Chapter 103: The Honey Trap

While ordinary people might be oblivious to the hidden workings of this world, the father and son, having traveled far and wide, were well aware of them. Setting aside their own experiences in the martial arts underworld, even the Prince of Runan’s estate was known to harbor many eccentric masters.

Could this man be a cultivator as well?

Jiang Cheng was equally shaken to her core. Forgetting to face Shen Shi, she rushed to the side of the boat, retrieved the petal embedded in the hull, and muttered to herself, "This soft petal cut through my hair and earring and even pierced the hull. How did he do it? Could I do the same?"

"Father, let’s go," Shen Shi said to Shen Liang.

"Stop! You think you can just leave? Have you asked them for permission?"

The string of failures had pushed Zhao Zongyong beyond the point of maintaining his charade. With a wave of his hand, a squad of crossbowmen appeared, their weapons gleaming coldly as they leveled them at the father and son.

"Your Highness, what is the meaning of this?" Shen Shi asked, his eyes narrowing.

There are people one has never met who can become friends, and then there are those who, even if one knows their brother is destined for the throne, could never be friends. It seemed Shen Shi’s instincts had been correct.

"What is the meaning of this? I simply wish for you to hand over what you stole from the estate," Zhao Zongyong declared righteously.

As a member of a family that lived by theatricality, his display of moral indignation was convincing enough that no one suspected a ruse. Some even began to whisper.

"So they stole something from the estate. No wonder the Prince is so angry."
"How bold! To dare steal from a Prince’s estate."

Hearing this baseless slander, Shen Liang trembled with rage, but Shen Shi calmly replied, "My father and I have been right here since we arrived. What exactly do you claim we stole?"

Indeed! They hadn't moved; it was impossible for them to have stolen anything. Many people suddenly realized this—they hadn't budged, and they certainly couldn't have stolen something in plain sight. Such a thing was impossible in this setting.

"And besides..."

While Shen Shi was busy proving his innocence and sparking doubt in the crowd, he suddenly made his move. He swiped at a decorative peony, sending petals flying through the air. It was a beautiful sight, yet one possessed of lethal force.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

The crossbows were shattered by the petals.

"And besides, I am a civil official. The Great Song does not execute civil officials, so it would be best if you didn't point these weapons at me!"

Having destroyed the crossbows, the moral high ground remained firmly with Shen Shi. The mud flung at him failed to stick.

"You... very well!" Zhao Zongyong was trembling with fury. He had been denied his dignity.

"If that is how you want it, very well! Daoist Wang." Since things were not going according to plan, Zhao Zongyong played his final trump card.

Dressed in Daoist robes and accompanied by two acolytes, Daoist Wang Daoling stepped forward.

"Greetings to Your Highness," he said, bowing with great respect.

"Hmm." Zhao Zongyong was pleased.

What of cultivators? He was a Prince—a true Prince. Even a cultivator should fear him. When a cultivator met him, they should bow. If nothing else, even the leader of the cultivators, the Old Ancestor Chen Tuan, had relied on trickery to secure Mount Hua back in the day. Cultivators were nothing special.

Wang Daoling’s deference boosted Zhao Zongyong’s confidence. He pointed to the scroll in the acolyte’s hand and asked, "Do you know what this is?"

There was a faint aura about the scroll, but it lacked the resonance of the natural world’s energy. Shen Shi took a glance and said, "Just a common antique."

"Ha ha..." Shen Shi’s response made Zhao Zongyong roar with laughter, further looking down upon this so-called "cultivator."

"This is a secret treasure known as the 'Ten Thousand Horses Painting.' It can contain ten thousand horses!"

A triumphant Zhao Zongyong signaled for Wang Daoling to open it. Wang Daoling proudly broke the seal, and as it opened, the sound of thundering hooves and neighing filled the air. Before their eyes, the scene of ten thousand horses charging appeared.

"This... are there really horses inside?"
"Why are they in a painting?"

Everyone was stunned by the sight.

"What an incredible scroll. Is this a magical artifact?" Shen’s father was also amazed.

"No. It is merely a mental illusion," Shen Shi replied, shaking his head. In his eyes, there was only psychic energy; there was no scene of charging horses.

Wang Daoling’s techniques originated from the Ren Sect, and upon hearing Shen Shi see through his ruse, he immediately initiated a second phase. A horse, followed by dozens of others, leaped out from the scroll.

"Ha! Everyone, be careful! The horses have escaped; don't get trampled!"

From the moment they leaped from the scroll, the horses grew until they were the size of real animals.

The deck of the riverboat was only so large. With dozens of horses suddenly appearing, there was no room left, and people scrambled to get out of the way. Shen’s father moved to dodge, but Shen Shi grabbed him. "Father, no need to dodge. Those aren't real horses."

*Hm? Has he really seen through it, or is he faking? I shall test him again.*

Wang Daoling’s mustache twitched as he directed the horses to charge toward the father and son as if they were desperate to flee the boat. Shen Shi remained unmoved, facing the herd head-on.

"They're going to crash! They're going to crash!"

To the onlookers, it seemed the father and son were paralyzed with fear and would surely be trampled.

"Damn it!"

Wang Daoling knew the truth; they weren't real, just illusions, and could not actually hit anyone. He formed a hand seal, and the crowd saw a flash before their eyes. The horses somehow vanished from the deck.

"Oh no! The Prince’s horses have run off!"

Regardless of whether they understood it was an illusion, everyone shouted that the horses had escaped. The soldiers on the boat immediately rushed off to pursue them. Zhao Zongyong and Wang Daoling smiled and followed.

The horses seemed to be deliberately leading the crowd, always appearing just within their line of sight. No matter how fast or slow the pursuers moved, the horses always remained in view.

On the road, they encountered the late-arriving Bao Zheng. As the local magistrate, he should not have been this late, but he had been busy dealing with the aftermath of the dozens of bandit corpses.

"What has happened here? Why are horses running about?"

Strangely, even the oblivious Bao Zheng could see the horses.

"Magistrate Bao, you can see them too?"

Bao Zheng had stepped out of his sedan chair to pay his respects to Zhao Zongyong, but the Prince ignored him. Unable to return to his chair, he had to walk. Shen Shi leaned in and whispered to him.

"Why wouldn't I be able to see them?" Bao Zheng asked curiously, adding, "What kind of horses are these? Are they the ones we keep?"

"What? Magistrate Bao, what did you say?" A sudden clarity dawned on Shen Shi, and he understood everything.

"I asked, what kind of horses are these? Are they the ones we keep?" Bao Zheng repeated, thinking Shen Shi hadn't heard him.

"Magistrate Bao, whether these are our horses or not is no longer important. This is a con game."