WCPR 33

Chapter 33

Another Child Is Missing!

Cold sweat broke out all over Yang Linyuan’s body, his whole frame stiff with shock. But as the son of a military family, he at least had the reflexes for crisis. He immediately ordered his men to surround Huicui Tower—a grand restaurant—tight as an iron wall. The tall, muscular guards sealed it completely; not a single person was allowed to leave.

Huicui Tower was one of the capital’s most famous establishments, frequented by nobles, high-ranking officials, and wealthy merchants. Being suddenly confined sparked outrage among them, but when they saw the bloodshot, ferocious eyes of Yang Linyuan, they all swallowed their complaints.

Everyone knew that the Marquis of Weiyuan had only one precious son, cherished like the apple of his eye. For that child to vanish—especially with all his attendants incapacitated—was clearly not a simple case of wandering off. Someone had taken him.

Those sensitive to the situation could not help but gasp. Who could possibly be so audacious as to steal the only son of the Marquis of Weiyuan? The capital was about to be thrown into chaos.

Despite the quick lockdown, sealing Huicui Tower so tightly not even water could seep through, Yang Linyuan found no trace of his young cousin. His panic consumed him—when he realized he couldn’t handle this alone, he immediately contacted his reclusive second uncle, who rarely left the family estate.

When the second uncle arrived, his face was so dark and menacing he looked like a demon crawling out of hell. Yang Linyuan felt he’d have nightmares for days.

Yet the uncle didn’t order a chaotic search. After hearing the details, he made a decisive choice—to head straight to the Imperial Palace.

“I swear, I was only gone for a short while. When I came back, everyone was unconscious. The doors and windows were shut, and Huicui Tower was surrounded. No one could have left—but the boy was gone…”

Seeing the pale, distraught Yang Linyuan, Emperor Jingtai refrained from rebuking him. Taking one’s cousin out for a meal and losing him—because he went off to watch some commotion—was beyond careless.

But now wasn’t the time for blame. The priority was finding the child.

“Summon the Minister of Justice, both Vice Ministers, the Chief and Deputy of the Dali Temple, and the Commander of the City Patrol…”

Soon, the officials of law and order rushed before the emperor. After hearing the full story, their expressions darkened. From Yang Linyuan’s description, the private room had been an airtight, flawless chamber—a veritable locked room.

The Marquis’s son was five years old—not a small animal one could slip away unnoticed. And given the Marquis’s own background as a former military intelligence officer, even his keen eyes had found no clues. This was…

But faced with the Marquis’s bloodshot glare and the emperor’s icy stare, none dared to voice doubt. Moments later, the entire capital was in a frenzy. Major streets were blocked, city patrols marched in groups, and every suspicious person was thrown into jail. No one cared about mistakes—better to wrong a hundred than to let one culprit escape.

While the city was under martial law, Jiuque was wandering the streets. Everything seemed normal—until a burst of shouting reached her ears. A few panicked, grief-stricken people were running toward her, faces familiar.

Weren’t those Old Mu and the other neighbors from Tonghua Alley? Why did they look so frantic?

“The children! The children are gone!”

“My grandson—my Mingde! I just turned my head for a moment, and he disappeared! Have you seen him? He’s about this tall, with a red mole on his left ear the size of a bean! Such a bright boy—you’ve seen him before, haven’t you? Has anyone seen him?”

“And my daughter! My little girl is gone too! She’s only four, with two little topknots, wearing a bright red dress—please, someone, give my daughter back!”

Jiuque quickened her pace, hearing the cries and pleas. Her brows furrowed tightly as she reached out to steady Madam Lin, who could barely stand. The old woman, once full of vigor, now looked broken—her hair much whiter, her face filled with despair and panic. Her helpless eyes were painful to look at.

“Madam Lin! What happened? Your grandson is missing? When did it happen? What was he wearing? Where did he go missing?”

Through tears, Madam Lin recognized Officer Ying Jiuque, her familiar face giving her the strength to speak.

“It—it happened right on this street. Here.”

She pointed around weakly, clutching Jiuque’s hand, guilt flooding her face.

“He was wearing a sky-blue little robe, with his name embroidered inside—Lin Mingde. About a stick of incense ago, I brought him here to buy sewing thread. He was standing right next to me. I just turned around for a second—and he was gone! It’s all my fault! I never should have let go of his hand…”

“Where’s the thread vendor?”

“Him! Right there!”

The thread seller was a man in his twenties, drenched in sweat. The child had vanished right at his stall—if word got out, people might think he’d helped kidnap him! Seeing Jiuque’s official uniform, he stammered desperately:

“Officer, I swear I didn’t see when the child disappeared! The other vendors can testify—I had plenty of customers then, I was busy! I’m no kidnapper, I’d never do something so heartless!”

Jiuque turned to the surrounding merchants, who all looked equally alarmed.

“This young man’s been selling here for days. He’s honest, never cheats on weight. Folks around here like buying from him. But there were too many people just now—so many parents with children—we didn’t notice a thing…”

“Yeah, it was packed earlier. Lots of customers, but strangely, none came to our stalls. I even looked around a few times but didn’t see when Mingde vanished.”

After questioning everyone nearby, Jiuque received nearly identical answers. She fell silent for a moment, scanning the scene carefully.

The boy hadn’t gone home—he disappeared right here on this street. If this was a kidnapping, the next half-hour was the critical window for finding him. Miss it, and recovery would be almost impossible.

The street was filled with cries of grief, anger, and confusion. Jiuque pressed her temple, her eyes catching the glint of light on rippling water—the steady sound of a river nearby.

Her gaze sharpened as she turned toward the slow-flowing river behind the thread vendor’s stall.