Turning around to pour some tea, trying to calm his excitement, he said, “Miss, have a seat, don’t be afraid, I—I’m not a bad person. If you’re unwilling, I won’t force you. Not today, not tomorrow either, we can take it slow, I’ll come see you every day.” After all, he was well-educated; though William Sullivan was inexplicably excited, the thought of shamelessly getting intimate with a woman he’d just met still felt awkward.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his neck, but a refreshing fragrance lingered at the tip of his nose, soothing and pleasant.

“Don’t make a sound!” A soft, melodious Guilin accent whispered right by his ear, enchanting and soul-stirring, making his bones go weak.

But when he turned his head, William Sullivan was shocked to find a gleaming short sword pressed against his neck. Then, a sharp pain struck the back of his head. Instinctively, he tried to cry out, but his mouth was suddenly stuffed with a wad of cloth. Another stabbing pain hit the back of his head, his vision went black, and he passed out.

……

He had no idea how much time had passed when William Sullivan suddenly jolted awake and slowly opened his eyes. “Splash”—a basin of cold water was dumped right over his head, making William Sullivan choke and cough loudly.

“Let’s see if you can keep playing dead now!” A short, stocky man beside him slammed the wooden basin down next to William Sullivan with a bang.

William Sullivan felt sore all over. When he tried to move, he realized his hands were tied behind his back, and he was lying flat on the tiled floor. Looking around, he saw red lanterns lit in the hall, and shadowy figures on both sides—he couldn’t tell how many people there were. On the main seat directly facing him, he caught a glimpse of a touch of red peeking out from layered skirts—it looked like a pair of exquisite, elegant embroidered shoes. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Who are you people?” William Sullivan was furious. No matter what you’re up to, can’t you just talk it out? Knocking someone out like that—do you know how much that hurts?

“Shing”—a gleaming steel blade was pressed to his neck. The short, stocky man eyed William Sullivan maliciously and sneered, “Senior Sister, since he’s not the one we’re looking for, why not just kill this little Qing demon as a sacrifice?”

William Sullivan shuddered, suddenly remembering the era he was in. Forget about just knocking someone out—between the Qing army and the Taiping forces, things were far more brutal than a simple life-or-death struggle. Captured prisoners were often disemboweled or burned alive, and some were even executed by slow slicing—just thinking about it made his scalp tingle.

It looked like he’d fallen into the hands of an anti-Qing organization. But why had they captured him? Was it because he was a prince’s son? Then he recalled the short man saying they’d caught the wrong person. Huh? So the trap was set for Charles Bennett?

William Sullivan was quick-witted; in just a moment, he pieced together the cause and effect. He was furious—Charles Bennett, that brat, who knows whom he’d offended, and now the trouble had landed on him.

“Who exactly are you people?” William Sullivan felt utterly wronged and looked pitifully at the beautiful woman seated at the head. It seemed this young lady was in charge. Though she wore her hair up and was dressed as a stunning young matron, she really did seem quite young. The madam had said she was eighteen—was that true? Eighteen and already a bandit leader? He gave a bitter smile—he’d thought he was in for a romantic adventure, but disaster had struck instead.

Having lived two lives, this was the first time he’d ever had the thought of acting like a lecher, and he’d paid dearly for it. People, it seemed, should really behave themselves.

Seeing William Sullivan’s pitiful look, the beautiful woman who had been looking down at him from above couldn’t help but show a faint smile. “Don’t be afraid, I won’t kill you—not today.” Her voice was soft and gentle, indescribably pleasant. Apparently, the words William Sullivan had said when they first met had left her with little ill will toward him, and she was now teasing him with his own words.

William Sullivan’s face flushed with embarrassment—he wished he could crawl into a hole. Thinking back, just like in his previous life, he really was clumsy at coaxing girls. He wondered if, when she’d come to kidnap him, she’d been laughing her head off at his awkwardness.

“My name is Emily Smith, I’m from Guangxi.” The beautiful woman introduced herself.

William Sullivan was startled. Emily Smith? Guangxi? Could it be that Emily Smith from Wuzhou in western Guangxi?

“You’ve heard my name?” Emily Smith stared at William Sullivan. It sounded like a question, but she’d already drawn her conclusion.

William Sullivan was alarmed—what a formidable and clever woman! She hadn’t missed a single change in his expression. It would be nearly impossible to fool her and escape from her hands.

He didn’t know what she wanted with Charles Bennett, but his own status was much higher than Charles Bennett’s. If his identity was exposed, he’d be in real danger—wouldn’t these people just use him and then chop off his head?

Fortunately, the madam didn’t know who he was. He’d come with only Henry Foster, and Henry Foster had probably returned to the prince’s residence to cover for him. Even if he didn’t return for several days, Henry Foster would likely assume he was out having fun and would keep covering for him. Given how much the princess consort doted on him, she’d probably think he was out clearing his head and wouldn’t force him to come home.

In other words, even if these people took him out of Beijing, there was still time.

What were these people doing in the capital? Of course William Sullivan had heard of Emily Smith’s reputation. At present, the Hongmen societies of the two Guangs were rising up in response to the Taiping Rebellion, and “Ling Shiba of Eastern Guangdong and Emily Smith of Western Guangxi” were the two most powerful armed factions.