Chapter 67: Restoring Memories and Resistance
"We just walked in like this?"
Qi Chengming didn't ask in an annoyed tone until both feet were inside the fenced passageway, and he had walked a few more steps, so far that the constables could no longer hear their conversation.
After holding it in for a while, Bai Xuan almost immediately blurted out in agreement: "This is too... too easy!"
He calmed down and realized after a while that he was covered in a cold sweat.
I was on tenterhooks for so long, it was like playing house! The constables didn't react at all! It's both ridiculous and infuriating.
"Otherwise what?"
The Second Young Master Wen, who had been holding back his smile for so long, finally let it out. He laughed heartily, opened his folding fan, and waved it with a graceful movement, unlike anything an ordinary person would do, yet it was the gesture of a true young master. The turn of his wrist and the flick of his fan exuded an indescribable charm.
What do you think you'll encounter?
He countered with a question that was almost brimming with amusement: "First, they use a feint, one person goes to find a way to lure the constables away. The rest steal the keys from the sleeping constables' waists, and if anyone wakes up, they knock them unconscious, then quietly open the gate..."
"We've already wasted too much time on this step, we need to hurry up and find Yang Shou. We hadn't even exchanged a few words when the yamen runners returned. We had to rush to reach an agreement and then flee in a panic... The yamen runners chased after us, and in the heat of the moment, someone had to stay behind to cover our retreat. We wandered around in a terrible mess before finally shaking them off and escaping back to the courtyard. By then, it was almost dawn."
Young Master Wen had a thoroughly enjoyable simulation in one go.
"..." Qi Chengming's brows relaxed, his expression a mixture of helplessness and subtlety.
—Hey, how come you're so skilled at this?!
In the novels Qi Chengming had read in his previous life, things usually unfolded in this way.
If the plot is a bit more dramatic, the people covering the rear will be captured and their identities will be exposed. If it's a bit more satisfying, the constables will learn about their reasons for saving people and their noble cause, and after a good talk, they will bow down and be completely convinced.
He never expected things to develop so logically!
"Wen Er, did you bribe these yamen runners long ago?" Qi Chengming asked calmly, making the question sound like a statement.
He's really stupid.
The centurion and patrolmen in charge of the curfew were all bribed, allowing the few men to go out in the middle of the night without any problem. Why can't the officials in the government offices be bribed? This is ancient times, but the people in the government offices were also ordinary people, and besides, bribery should be the least risky method, right...?
"The old constable is unwilling to reveal it because he is afraid of the other party's power, and what I offered did not overcome that fear." A confident smile appeared on the face of the Second Young Master Wen. He twirled his folding fan in his palm and summarized in a casual manner, "So as long as we give them enough assurances, that will be fine—alright, Wuyou, don't waste time."
"Young master, we've found it." The attendant who came with Qi Chengming and the other two had already quietly and quickly searched the row of cells inside while they were chatting.
Most prisoners were sound asleep in the middle of the night, but some were awakened by noise and cried out for help in hushed tones, or acted frantically, pleaded, or wept.
"Help me! I'm innocent!" "Please—" "Sir, I'm very useful, please get me out of here. I'm the accountant! Sir!"
Qi Chengming glanced around and noticed that several of them remained silent, coldly huddled in a corner, watching the outside warily. Yang Shou was one of them; his face bore indelible, old scars that looked grotesque and menacing. He had lost several fingers on his right hand, so he gripped the iron chain on his wrist with his left, his gaze cold and vigilant.
This is because they noticed the people who came to investigate earlier and knew that these strangers had come for him in the middle of the night.
Wen Er skillfully calmed the prisoners, his tone a mix of gentleness and sternness: "Whether you are wronged or not, I will find out. Don't make a scene now—you can't get out."
It was common for him to uphold justice and fight bandits, and it was also commonplace for him to determine how many people in the government offices were unjustly imprisoned. Wen Er had his own ways of handling the aftermath; he usually made a scene along the way. Wen Zhongnan was genuinely grateful to his family for supporting his reckless behavior.
"Go ahead," Bai Xuan said softly, standing further inside the aisle.
He noticed that the prince stopped a few steps away from Yang Shou's cell, seemingly lost in thought, perhaps feeling a mix of emotions, like trepidation at the prospect of returning home.
Fortunately, because Hong Shengsu planned to kill someone to seize Fang, Yang Shou's cell was at the very back, so there was no need to worry about his privacy being overheard by other prisoners when they talked.
Qi Chengming took a deep breath and moved over anyway.
Indeed... at this point, he felt inexplicably nervous. Perhaps he was struggling with how to bring it up?
"you……"
However, after Qi Chengming walked over and met Yang Shou's gaze, the man's voice, hoarse from thirst, seemed somewhat dazed, his wariness and indifference turning into a blank stare.
Yang Shou stared intently at the extraordinary young man before him, his gaze fixed on that face, and he couldn't help but mutter that word again:
"You...you are..."
Qi Chengming: "?"
He sensed something keenly, and suddenly stepped forward, grabbing the railing and demanding, "What did you remember? You recognize me—my face?"
Yang Shou couldn't even bother to answer. He clutched his head in anguish, his jaw clenched so tightly that the veins on his forehead bulged, but no sound escaped his throat: "..."
The blank memories are like a new chapter in a poem, with a flood of complex emotions and images rushing in all at once.
The battlefield was a blurry mess, filled with chaos and corpses. A broad figure, perhaps for a fleeting moment, suddenly vanished into the crowd.
It was the back view of a kind and warm middle-aged man.
Yang Shou knew that his strong hands would be rough, and his chest would tremble when he laughed. He would often lift the child high in the air, showing none of the strictness or awkwardness typical of fathers and sons. At most, he would turn away in disappointment and silence.
He was a formidable figure on the battlefield, skilled in archery, horsemanship, spear, and sword. He led his troops in charges, his fierce shouts becoming the nightmare of many enemies, and a towering figure that children admired from a young age… His deep, earnest teachings accompanied Yang Shou throughout his childhood. The pungent odors, the sound of horses' hooves, wicked laughter, and the clanging of metal formed most of Yang Shou's impressions of him.
But this person, this familiar person... so abruptly and absurdly fell off the horse and never got up again.
He didn't have time to say another word to Yang Shou, to glance at him, or to smile at him before he was gone forever.
It's as if a piece of my heart is missing, something that can never be found again.
Isn't this absurd?
Following the stunned silence came a splash of blood right in front of them...
"Ahhh...!" Yang Shou clutched his head and finally cried out through gritted teeth.
A chaotic man's smile alternated with the youthful, inexperienced face of a boy. Who was he? Who were they? This unfamiliar memory—it was his past… He needed to remember more!
"What's going on?!" Bai Xuan had been standing guard a few steps away, turning his back to help keep watch—although he didn't know what the purpose of keeping watch was, he was shocked when he heard the commotion and turned around to see the helpless prince and the pained Yang Shou.
Bai Xuan paced anxiously for a moment, asking, "Is he... is he having a headache?"
"I need to find a doctor!" Qi Chengming didn't care how special the situation was. Wen Er guessed that his cousin had amnesia, and now, judging from the situation, he might recognize his face. He had been shocked, and his condition had suddenly become unstable. No one knew whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.
"No...don't..." Yang Shou suddenly squeezed out a half-spoken plea from his throat, no longer silent as before. He lunged forward, pressing himself against the fence, "Don't go!"
The man instinctively stretched his right hand, missing a finger, out from behind the fence, desperately and hopelessly trying to grab Qi Chengming's clothes.
Qi Chengming stopped in his tracks as he turned to leave.
In that instant, he suddenly remembered how complex the expression on Emperor Hongren's face had been when they finally met eyes in the palace—the very day he first transmigrated. A myriad of subtle emotional shifts flashed by and vanished in a mere few seconds. Any modern actor watching this would have exclaimed how brilliant it was.
So, what exactly happened to his face?
Qi Chengming raised his voice slightly and called Wen Er, who was still with the prisoners in the distance, over and asked him, "Do you think I look a lot like my cousin before he was disfigured?"
Even in his previous life, Wen Zhongnan had never seen the second young master of the Wang family before his face was disfigured, but since he had already told the lie, he could only brace himself and examine the two of them: "Hmm..."
Although Bai Xuan couldn't offer any real help, he was at a loss and kept staring intently at Qi Chengming's face, then at Yang Shou's, scrutinizing the two of them.
"No..." The one who spoke was actually Yang Shou.
His voice was rough, slightly panting, and a little dazed, but his tone had calmed considerably as he said, "Father... you look a lot like my father..."
Before tonight, Yang Shou was someone who didn't know his past.
As far back as he could remember, he had been floating in the water... He didn't know how long he had been floating, but when he was almost starving to death, he finally reached the shore. He struggled to crawl out and find something to eat, looking like a beggar, his body reeking of stench, his wounds festering, and his hair disheveled.
Everyone avoided him like the plague, and he couldn't even get a meal. Yang Shou also felt that his life was worthless, and with his injuries so severe, he was afraid he wouldn't survive.
But the Yang family was too kind, and Old Master Yang couldn't bear it, so he gave him a bite to eat as he leaned against the door. After being in a daze for so many days, he finally pulled through, his wounds treated with simple herbal bandages, and gradually healed. They had given him a life, and Yang Shou stayed to repay them.
But... Grandpa Yang asked him, "What's your name?"
At that moment, Yang Shou couldn't remember anything. He just stared blankly at the distant mountains and the high walls of the town, a surge of emotion welling up in his chest. What was it? He didn't know. He instinctively uttered a single word: "Shou..."
guard.
This was the first word that came to his mind.
This wasn't his original intention, but the words were familiar enough. Yang Shou thought, 'Perhaps this is my name.'
But he couldn't remember his surname, and no amount of searching could find any information about his past. Yang Shou didn't mind; the Yang family had practically given him a complete life, so from then on he would take the surname Yang and live his life as "Yang Shou" to repay their kindness.
...
But now, upon seeing the boy's face, the most painful floodgates in Yang Shou's mind were suddenly opened. The battlefield memories he had been unwilling to face, hidden deep within his memory, had awakened…
Yang Shou took a few more breaths to calm his wildly beating heart. He met the gaze of the young man before him and asked with certainty, "...Are you my aunt's son?"
The tone of his voice was completely different from before.
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Author's Note: Qi Chengming: ...The nephew is just like the uncle!
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