Jiang Yinyue carried wine as she wandered freely through the picturesque mountains, taking in the misty scenery and blooming flowers. It felt utterly delightful. She hugged the “wine jar” and smiled, her laughter ringing out like silver bells striking jade in the dim twilight where the hazy moon hung from the branches.
A touch of naive charm.
But in the next instant, her lightly closed eyelids slowly lifted. The drunken haze in her eyes cleared to crystal clarity as her own laughter woke her from the stupor.
The hangover hit her. She uncomfortably rubbed her stomach but suddenly let go of something and looked down at the large hand resting on her chest.
“Um…?”
Enveloped by the familiar scent of green bamboo mixed with soapberry, she turned her head, and her nose bumped into something hard.
It was Wei Qin’s chest.
Realizing she was lying sideways in Wei Qin’s arms, Jiang Yinyue’s mind went blank. She froze there, not daring to move. After adjusting her breathing a few times, she carefully removed Wei Qin’s hand and quietly sat up.
Her disheveled long hair draped over her front and back. She casually smoothed it and checked her clothes.
Her garments were intact, the collar slightly askew but still presentable.
As long as she hadn’t lost composure in her drunken state, it was fine.
She breathed a sigh of relief, her guilt vanishing. In the pitch-black night without lamps, she gazed at the man on the bed.
The man lay sideways fully clothed, one arm stretched out straight, which she had used as a pillow.
Didn’t it go numb?
Jiang Yinyue slipped back under the covers, rested on her own pillow, and gently massaged Wei Qin’s arm for him.
Her touch was as light as a feather.
Wei Qin did not wake, either sleeping too deeply or unwilling to stir.
Meanwhile, in a county town thirty li outside Yangzhou, Manager Xie leaned against a fence in the horse ranch, sighing into the night breeze alone.
An hour earlier, a pitch-black, sturdy sweat-blooded steed had broken free of its reins, leaped over the fence, and fled like a shooting star amid the pursuit of the ranch owner and the stable hands.
It was precisely the farewell gift that the Crown Prince had sent to Yan Zhuyu.
Though it was an old horse, its pure bloodline had led it to be resold among various ranches multiple times. Manager Xie had spent the entire day tracking its whereabouts.
Yet he was still one step too late.
Manager Xie’s heart was filled with anxiety, hoping that fellow Yan Yi could intercept the horse on the road.
But within a thirty-li radius, the paths crisscrossed in a maze. The chance of interception was minuscule.
“I hope I’m just overthinking it!”
An old horse might not know the way home…
On the nearest city wall to this county town, a dozing gate guard suddenly snapped awake. He gripped the battlements and peered into the deep, shadowy night.
The powerful clop of hooves rang out rhythmically, kicking up waves of dust.
“A horse!”
“General, a horse is charging from ahead!”
The city guard commander adjusted his helmet and rushed to the battlements. Observing the horse’s frame, it was no inferior to a warhorse—in fact, superior to the mounts of ordinary cavalry. Extremely rare.
“It’s an imperial steed.”
The commander recognized this sweat-blooded steed as the very horse led by that man and woman he had ordered released the other day.
“Quickly, go to the post station and report to His Highness the Crown Prince!”
Some time later, the sweat-blooded steed galloping down the long street was intercepted by a shadow that suddenly darted out.
The horse reared and neighed.
The black-clad figure moved with agile grace, leaping onto the horse. With one hand gripping its long mane, a few swift actions subdued the powerful beast.
The black-clad rider astride the horse scanned the surroundings, squeezed its flanks, and vanished with it into the empty street, slipping into a nearby alley.
“Where should I take you?”
He needed to hide the horse’s tracks and prevent it from heading to the post station.
The black-clad man, his mouth, nose, and cheek scar covered, pondered how to vanish quietly through the labyrinth of alleys when a white-feathered arrow suddenly shot toward him. Instinctively, he raised his hand to block his heart, and the arrow struck his palm dead center.
“Hiss!”
In the instant pain surged, the black-clad man kicked off the horse’s back and leaped into the air, traversing rooftops and walls through the alleys.
Torches converged into the alleys, illuminating them like daylight and shining on the bow-wielding man.
Wei Xichen, hidden in a high vantage point, lowered his bow and signaled his guards to pursue.
He approached the sweat-blooded steed, stroking its neck to calm it. His amber eyes took on a chilling glint under the cold moonlight.
When the gate guard reported the sighting, he had ordered witnesses to keep silent and allowed the horse into the city as part of a ploy—to see if anyone would intercept it midway.
Da’an had endured three years of war. Imperial steeds in the palace stood ready at all times to be sent to the borders in place of warhorses. Over those three years, under his personal supervision, most had been trained to know the way home, so that one day they could carry wounded or fallen soldiers back to their hometowns.
This old horse was one of them.
Fortunately, the Divine Machine Camp’s commander had improved firearms, coordinating with border troops to repel the enemy and end the war.
“Capture alive.”
“Yes!”
A large contingent of accompanying guards chased after the fleeing black-clad man, their nimble figures weaving through the inky night.
Wei Xichen led the horse back toward the post station, his thoughts racing. There were only two possibilities for the horse to return: either Yan Zhuyu had sold it for silver, or she had encountered danger.
He leaned toward the second and had thus set this trap to lure the enemy in. Now it confirmed that possibility.
“Summon Han Jian to see This Prince.”
On the night he entrusted Han Jian to take Yan Zhuyu away, he had learned of Han Jian’s choice.
Master and servant parted ways completely, strangers from then on. Yan Zhuyu, left alone, had no one to rely on…
Fu Zhongcai, following behind, immediately acknowledged and sent someone to summon Han Jian, who had been freed from servitude.
As dawn barely broke, the pursuing guards cornered the black-clad man in a marketplace.
The Deputy Guard Commander gritted his teeth and ordered a surround, allowing no mishaps.
For a group of elite palace guards to fail in capturing a single “prey” would be dereliction of duty.
“Search separately!”
“Check over there.”
At the third quarter of the yin hour, the Deputy Guard Commander ran into the alley by the Wei Family’s main gate and bumped straight into Wei Qin, who was heading to the yamen.
“Transport Judge Wei, did you see a black-clad man? Eight chi tall, lean and lanky.”
Wei Qin shooed Qi Bao, which had chased him out the door, back inside, then turned and replied, “I saw no one. What is Deputy Commander Qi tracking?”
“Sorry, it’s confidential.”
Wei Qin nodded and stepped aside to let them pass.
The deputy commander led his men to continue searching, checking every household without causing a major disturbance. They either peeked through door cracks or scaled walls discreetly.
One guard whispered, “Boss, we skipped the Wei Family.”
The deputy commander paid it no mind, poking his rear out to peek at the Wei Family’s neighbor. “The watchdog didn’t even bark. No intruder.”
“That’s His Highness the Crown Prince’s beloved dog…”
The deputy commander lost patience and smacked the guard’s head repeatedly. “Yours truly doesn’t know Qi Bao? But Qi Bao’s still a dog—born to guard the door.”
The guard rubbed his head. “Lesson learned, lesson learned.”
Wei Qin watched the guards depart, his mild features unchanging. He stepped into the morning light on the verge of breaking.
When the morning sun reached the windows, the disheveled guards returned to the post station and knelt to beg forgiveness.
Wei Xichen’s expression wasn’t poor, but it carried a chill. “Withdraw.”
He continued his breakfast, eating without relish.
The group that meddled with Mr. Gong and Yan Zhuyu—were they the same?
If so, what was their goal?
Doubts swirled in his mind, causing the young Heir Apparent to set down his porcelain spoon and signal the imperial chefs to clear the meal.
Fu Zhongcai stepped forward and whispered, “Ever since Gong Fei was intercepted, this slave has kept watch on the County Princess Mansion. Logically, it shouldn’t be at the County Princess’s behest.”
The Cui Clan had reason to oppose the Crown Prince. Fu Zhongcai wanted to ease his lord’s worries and steeled himself to remind him.
Wei Xichen sipped his tea without dismissing Cui Shihan’s suspicion, but he wouldn’t mobilize forces to interrogate her and risk harming the innocent.
Those “black-clad men” lurked in the shadows while he was in the open; he needed to plan carefully.
For now, he had to send men to find Yan Zhuyu.
When the guards fetched Han Jian, flour still dusted his sleeves.
The man had shed his swordsman garb for the ordinary look of a smokescreen alley denizen.
“This commoner pays respects to Your Highness the Crown Prince.”
Wei Xichen sized him up and chuckled. “Making a living with your craft now?”
“In reply to Your Highness, this commoner bought a noodle shop and runs it with his two sisters.”
It was an old established shop. The elderly owner was heading to Jiangning to join his brother and transferred the shop to the Han siblings. With no heirs, he feared the craft would be lost and taught it all to the three.
Seeing Han Jian again felt like a lifetime had passed. Perhaps releasing his burdens brought rebirth—the burly swordsman before him seemed like a new man.
“Take a seat.”
Han Jian hesitated. “This commoner…”
“Sit. This Prince has questions for you.”
Han Jian knew what the Crown Prince wanted to ask. He hid nothing, recounting the full process of severing his master-servant bond with Yan Zhuyu, then waited quietly for questions.
Wei Xichen asked no more. He only felt Han Jian had handled it with dignity, ending the relationship properly. And himself? Not only had he failed to give Jiang Yinyue dignity, he had humiliated her deeply.
Times had changed; the guilty party had no right to peace.
What he thought was release was mere self-deception.
When the sun was high, Jiang Yinyue woke from her second sleep, the hangover finally gone.
After washing up, she stared at herself in the mirror, feeling something off.
Her lips were unusually red.
She paid it no mind, opened the door, and saw her mother-in-law grooming Qi Bao in the courtyard.
“You’re awake. Mother had Du Juan brew some mushroom soup to soothe your stomach.”
Jiang Yinyue scratched her nose and walked over, a bit embarrassed. Yesterday, in a fit of bravado, she had matched drinks with the little county princess who called herself a lonely traveler, without gauging her own tolerance.
Lady Gu pulled a wedding invitation from her sleeve. “A woman named Han Yan delivered it.”
Jiang Yinyue opened it and smiled.
The Han siblings had taken over a nearby noodle shop and invited her to sample it when free.
No time like the present.
Her stomach was empty; she was just hungry.
Jiang Yinyue downed a bowl of mushroom soup and headed to the noodle shop with Du Juan.
The gold-lettered signboard of the old establishment belonged to the now-departed owner. Without him, business had cooled considerably.
Only two or three tables of customers.
Jiang Yinyue found a corner seat, cupped her fists, and cleared her throat. “Shopkeeper, two steamers of shaomai, please.”
Han Yan emerged from the kitchen and stood dumbfounded. She hadn’t expected Jiang Yinyue to show up so soon—invitation just sent, guest already here.
Jiang Yinyue came not for the sisters but for her slight acquaintance with Han Jian.
“Will two steamers fill us?”
“Yes, yes, coming right up.”
Jiang Yinyue caught the guilt on Han Yan’s face, sighed, and shook her head. She hoped the cut-string puppet would no longer be controlled, no longer abet evil.
After the shaomai arrived, she pushed one steamer to Du Juan and asked in a low voice, “You’re a native Yangzhou girl. Taste this—does it differ from before?”
Du Juan picked one up, blew on it, took a big bite, and teared up from the heat. Covering her mouth, she replied, “It’s a bit off.”
As the pair muttered, Han Jian led two people toward the door.
Jiang Yinyue’s bright eyes suddenly dimmed.
Enemies on a narrow path.
Wei Xichen’s steps faltered upon unexpectedly seeing Jiang Yinyue in the shop, then proceeded normally across the threshold, past a few tables, and sat at the four-immortals table next to the pair.
Han Jian hadn’t expected Jiang Yinyue today either. He greeted her and casually asked, “How’s the taste?”
Jiang Yinyue hesitated. “Not bad…”
“I want the truth.”
“A bit salty, and a tad greasy.”
Han Jian nodded. “The old owner left me the secret recipe. I’ll tweak it later.”
Jiang Yinyue sized up the burly swordsman in turn, a mix of lament and relief, but with someone present, she said no more.
Fu Zhongcai ordered four steamers of shaomai and, as habit before the Crown Prince sat, pulled out a brocade cloth to wipe the table and chairs.
Wei Xichen caught Jiang Yinyue’s lip twitch from the corner of his eye and raised a hand to stop him. “No need.”
In their youth, they too had sought street food in the Capital City’s nooks. Jiang Yinyue always insisted attendants wipe the seats— that spoiled air he once saw as arrogance. Now he realized she had accommodated his germaphobia; she herself didn’t care about such details.
After quickly finishing the shaomai, Jiang Yinyue left some copper coins and was about to leave when Fu Zhongcai smilingly blocked her path.
“Let’s settle the bill together.”
Han Jian stepped forward. “No need…”
Fu Zhongcai knew that all things were hardest at the start. “Of course, of course.”
The old eunuch waved Han Jian off while picking up the copper coins to return them to Jiang Yinyue, but she refused.
With outsiders present, Jiang Yinyue did not reveal the man’s identity. Her tone was faint. “Strangers settle clear accounts.”
She pulled Du Juan toward the door but heard a voice even fainter than hers, unhurried yet nitpicking every copper.
“Since we’re settling clear accounts, please return Qi Bao, Lady Jiang.”
On the matter of Qi Bao, even though Jiang Yinyue wanted no further entanglement, she still intended to argue her case. “Does that mean we should also respect Qi Bao’s choice?”
Wei Xichen lost all interest in tasting anything. He walked up to the mistress and her servant, his gaze locked on Jiang Yinyue’s face. “Fine.”
The two groups walked one after the other through the bustling streets toward the Wei Residence. Jiang Yinyue was unsure if Qi Bao would abandon Wei Xichen, who had accompanied it longer, and choose her instead.
The woman walked and stopped along the way, buying quite a few little trinkets that Qi Bao would like.
She might never see it again after today.
A sudden sadness welled up in her.
Watching Jiang Yinyue dart in and out of several shops, Wei Xichen followed at a distance that was neither too close nor too far. He felt no impatience; instead, he wanted to stretch out this brief journey, the longer the better.
A dull ache throbbed in his chest from an old wound, and the jade-like face of the man gradually lost its color.
Exhausted from the Yan Hongchang case, sleepless the previous night over the sweat-blooded steed, and barely touching breakfast or lunch, he suddenly felt a wave of weakness.
Yet he showed nothing, not even discomfort.
The young Heir Apparent, warned from childhood by His Majesty and his maternal grandfather never to show vulnerability before others, pressed his throbbing temple.
The misty sky before the rain blurred his vision, but that scarlet figure weaving through the shops lacked the frail delicacy of a willow in the wind. Vibrant and lively, it became a gentle glow amid the haze.
The four arrived at the main gate of the Wei Family. Jiang Yinyue’s hands, clutching bags large and small, grew ice-cold as she instructed Du Juan to bring Qi Bao out.
“We agreed: after today, no more disputes over Qi Bao. A noble’s promise is worth a thousand gold.”
Wei Xichen did not reply. When he saw Qi Bao come bounding out with its mouth open in a grin, when he saw it excitedly reach out its paws forward, a sharp pain stabbed his chest.
He had thought that by not choosing, it could live carefree by their side.
“Keep it. Take good care of it.”
Jiang Yinyue blurted out, “Really?”
Had he suddenly decided to do a good deed? Would he be so generous?
Wei Xichen watched Qi Bao approach him, wagging its tail nonstop, and smiled mildly. He turned abruptly, but after taking a few steps, he collapsed with a thud.
Fu Zhongcai cried in alarm, “Your Highness!”
The hidden guards appeared in a rush and hurried over.
After a moment of stunned silence, Jiang Yinyue ran toward the fallen Wei Xichen.
A flurry of urgent calls pulled back the sliver of consciousness in Wei Xichen. He lifted his thin eyelids, which felt as heavy as a thousand catties.
Before blacking out, Jiang Yinyue’s silhouette became the last sight before his eyes.
“Niannian.”
Jiang Yinyue’s childhood name was Niannian.
Never forgotten, there would be an echo.
But even as he fully lost consciousness, Niannian made not a sound. She merely stared at him in a daze.