Chapter Thirty: The Mysterious Little Jade

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Exalted Grandmother of Su! The thought flashed through Kaimei’s mind, and she failed to notice that she had already begun moving toward her. After only a few steps, a strong arm seized her; Ji whispered, “Don’t go over there!”

She turned to him, confused. His eyes watched the crowd of women, but his words were for her: “Too abrupt.”

Yes, it would indeed be too abrupt to rush forward like that. Even if she reached the old lady, what could she say? Offer comfort? Cry? What this woman needed was not the pity of strangers. Kaimei stared dumbly at the Grandmother, whose gaze was steady, lips pressed tight, her features bearing a certain resemblance to Su. At her side, a delicate young lady in a pale dress followed closely—perhaps the fiancée Ji had mentioned.

Kaimei watched, dazed, as Grandmother and the female relatives boarded a carriage, its wheels creaking as it rolled away, raising dust in its wake. The crowd at the gate dispersed.

The chance glimpse of Su’s Grandmother left Kaimei in even lower spirits. Her mind muddled, she kept thinking of the woman in the white dress, and returned home in silence. Xiaobi’s appearance irked Ji; he too kept silent, making the atmosphere even heavier. The bustling marketplace, streams of people weaving like rivulets around them, yet the two could not blend in at all.

When they arrived at the teahouse, Ji went in to call for the stable boy to fetch the horses. Kaimei lingered at the door, when suddenly a clamor burst forth ahead—a disturbance seemed to be unfolding. She watched as the crowd parted, forming a narrow path that stretched all the way to where she stood.

Her body was forcefully struck by something, nearly knocking her off her feet. She snapped out of her reverie, startled to see that the culprit was a person—a small, wiry man—rushing past her like the wind. Before she could recover, another person followed, shouting loudly, “Catch the thief!” Dashing past in hot pursuit.

Catching sight of the second figure, Kaimei’s mouth gaped in surprise: “Xiaobi?!” To meet again so soon—it was fate, wasn’t it?

Driven by some impulse, she barely hesitated before breaking into a run after them. Long skirts were a nuisance, hindering her speed, so she gathered the hem in her arms to keep pace.

The thief, nimble and familiar with the alleys, darted here and there. Even with some skill, Xiaobi could not quite catch him; several times the thief barely escaped. The chase carried them across several streets. Kaimei was gasping for breath—what was so important that Xiaobi had to recover it at all costs? Money lost to a thief was hardly worth such exertion; at this rate, she would collapse before catching him.

“Here! Over here!” Xiaobi stopped, placing his fingers to his mouth and letting out a sharp whistle. Kaimei, trained by her soldier’s instincts, sensed an abrupt shift in the surroundings. At the sound, dark shapes began to flicker atop the nearby roofs—like cats accustomed to prowling the eaves. With barely a whisper, they moved across the tiles, silent as shadows.

The shadows multiplied, growing denser, converging toward the place where Xiaobi pursued the thief. Kaimei was intrigued—what had Xiaobi summoned?

Naturally, a thief would run toward crowded places. After being chased through several streets, he ended up at a dead end. Gritting his teeth, he sprinted into a secluded alley, thinking, “This is my turf. Once I reach the cul-de-sac, I’ll pull off my trick—make myself disappear. Let’s see how you catch me now.”

He was smug, but failed to notice that, in this deserted spot, the rooftop shadows moved with even greater ease, needing no concealment, their pace swift.

Kaimei, running and glancing at the rooftop shadows, realized they were not cats, but people—humans. Had Xiaobi summoned all these?

The thief halted—before him, a thick wall blocked the way. He glanced at the approaching Xiaobi, chuckled slyly, and dug open a dog hole at the base of the right wall, wriggling to crawl through.

His head and shoulders made it through, but his lower body stuck—not because the hole was too small, but because something gripped his ankles, dragging him back.

He cried out in alarm, seeing his captors: two masked figures in blue clothes. Their attire was unremarkable, but their eyes were sharp as blades. They flung him to the ground, addressing Xiaobi, who had caught up: “Is this the one?”

Xiaobi nodded slightly. One of the blue-clad men raised his hand, poised to strike. Kaimei arrived just in time, yelling desperately from behind, “Xiaobi, did you catch him?”

Xiaobi’s expression shifted; he signaled to the two men with his eyes, and they understood instantly, leaping onto the roof and waving, prompting all the shadows to scatter like startled birds and beasts.

Xiaobi stood with his back to her; from outside, Kaimei could not see the two men, but their swift departure did not escape her notice—especially as the rooftop shadows vanished with uncanny speed, making her even more suspicious.

Xiaobi turned, his face bright with innocent cheer: “Sister, we meet again.”

“Yes,” she replied absentmindedly, peering behind him. “Was it that man?”

“What?” He raised his brows.

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“The one who stole from you—the thief you chased through the streets!” Kaimei strode forward, grabbing the cowering thief. “What did you steal? Hand it over!”

Cursing his bad luck, the thief pulled a scented pouch from his chest and threw it to her: “Just this!”

Kaimei weighed it in her palm; it was surprisingly heavy.

Xiaobi snorted coldly, “There’s more!”

“That’s all. Just money—what else do you want?” The thief was shameless, feigning ignorance.

Xiaobi pointed to his own waist, “When you slashed me here with your blade, it wasn’t just silver you took, was it? There was a token, too.”

“Token? I don’t know any token!” The thief rolled his eyes, playing the scoundrel.

Xiaobi seized his collar, lifting him off the ground, his face darkening, “If you only stole money, I could let it go. But if you took that token, you’re finished!”

“I didn’t! I swear! Search me if you don’t believe it!” He acted like a dead pig unafraid of boiling water.

Such boldness surprised Xiaobi a little, but he scoffed and dropped the thief, swiftly patting him down from head to toe—no token, not even a bean.

Xiaobi was stunned, “I saw you take it from me.”

The thief, emboldened, straightened his clothes and sneered, “I told you, I don’t have it. Falsely accusing people is a crime.”

“Crime? You seem to forget who the scented pouch came from!” Kaimei slapped the back of his head, silencing him.

Xiaobi’s brows knitted with anxiety—it seemed that token was something extraordinary, and losing it unsettled him greatly.

“A common trick among thieves is to transfer stolen goods to others.” A voice spoke calmly from the alley entrance, and a figure approached—it was Ji, the palace guard, his gaze indifferent. Ji had followed, and Kaimei suddenly recalled that she’d left him behind in her rush after Xiaobi.

She clasped her hands together, grinning apologetically, earning only a moderate eye roll from Ji.

Prompted by the reminder, Xiaobi quickly searched his own clothes, but found nothing. As if struck by a thought, he looked at Kaimei.

Noticing his gaze, she protested instinctively, “Impossible—how could it be on me?” Yet her hand automatically searched her own pockets. At her waist, she felt a cold, hard object, and pulled it out: “What’s this?”

The golden object gleamed—before she could see clearly, Xiaobi shouted, “Give it here!” lunging to snatch it.

Ji, anticipating the move, calmly blocked Xiaobi’s hand, smiling faintly, “Little brother, don’t be so hasty—let us have a look, and it will be returned.”

“Who’s your little brother! You can’t look! What’s so interesting about it?” Xiaobi flushed and stamped his foot, looking exactly like a child whose favorite toy had been snatched.

Kaimei found his reaction amusing, and, feeling mischievous, tucked the shining object back into her belt, “I’ll keep it for now. When I’ve had enough fun, I’ll return it.”

“No! You can’t keep it!” Xiaobi was desperate, quick as a flash, engaging Ji in combat. The thief on the ground seized the opportunity, crawling back through the dog hole and vanishing.

While the scuffle heated up, Kaimei crossed her arms and watched, entertained. Xiaobi, though young and innocent in appearance, was no slouch—he matched the palace guard blow for blow. Ji’s face showed a hint of surprise.

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Just as she was enjoying herself, a rush of wind whooshed by her ear. Kaimei instinctively ducked, and with a crash, the wall behind her was punched through, leaving a gaping hole. She slid to the ground in shock—had someone attacked her?

The wind did not abate; a white blur flashed past where she had stood, heading straight for Ji.

Ji quickly disengaged from Xiaobi, dodging the sneak attack.

The white figure exchanged a move, then landed next to Xiaobi, asking anxiously, “Are you all right?”

Xiaobi nodded, whispering, “Keep this man occupied.”

The white figure asked no questions, only nodded slightly.

Ji scrutinized the newcomer—a white-robed youth, gentle in appearance, dressed as a young master. His robe’s hem trailed behind him, but his feet wore soft boots.

Ji smiled, “And who might you be?”

“My master,” Xiaobi answered briskly, “He’s very skilled. If you don’t believe it, try him—he’ll have you flat on the ground in a single move.”

Ji only laughed coldly. Kaimei, still shaken, glanced at the wall behind her—there was a footprint, powerful enough to collapse the bricks. Had that kick struck her, the consequences would have been dire. She patted her chest in relief.

“Your master, is he?” Ji’s gaze lingered on the youth, “I wonder who is servant and who is master here.”

“What are you saying?” Xiaobi retorted, “Are you blind? What master dresses like me?” The white-robed youth remained silent, only sizing Ji up with his eyes.

“What I say, you know well enough.” Ji reached for Xiaobi again, but the white-robed youth blocked him, launching an attack without a word.

Xiaobi deftly avoided their blows, twisting over to Kaimei’s side and urging, “Give it to me, quick!”

“What thing?” she teased, relishing his anxious expression.

“The token! The golden token!” he blurted, then quickly covered his mouth, annoyed at his slip.

“Golden, is it? All the more reason not to return it,” Kaimei drawled, grinning at him, “Such a valuable item can’t just be handed back.”

“What do you want, then?” Xiaobi stamped his foot, teeth clenched, “Name your price—whatever it is, I’ll pay!”

Kaimei considered—the thief had stubbornly denied everything, probably because the item was valuable. Xiaobi seemed like a servant, but was so generous—could he be a hidden rich man? How could she make the best of this opportunity and squeeze something out of him?

She was still scheming when Ji feinted and leapt to grab her wrist, “Let’s go!”

“But wait, the money’s not—” The white-robed youth caught up, slapping Ji’s hand away, and another fight broke out.

Xiaobi glared at her, “This isn’t the place. Come with me!”