Huayue thought Li Jingyun had probably misunderstood something. She was only afraid of being noticed by the Princess Imperial again — nothing good ever came of that — but this man clearly hadn’t considered such a thing. Not only had he hoisted her onto a small mule, he was personally holding the reins.

“Young Master.” She forced a smile. “Do you think there’s a chance this servant is capable of riding a mule herself?”

Li Jingyun said coldly, “Steward Yin is capable of everything — naturally I wouldn’t dare underestimate you. But I’m happy to lead it myself. Is that any concern of yours?”

…Not someone to provoke.

Huayue reached up and pressed her own mouth shut, obediently following behind him with the fishing net on her back.

“Third Young Master.”

Xu Changyi and Liu Chenghe caught up not long after. Huayue assumed they meant to join the hunt together, to help corner the prey — but instead the two of them came up and said, “That side gave us this, meaning we should stay away from the east.”

Two red envelopes, heavy with what were probably banknotes.

Huayue was a bit stunned. Bribery, even for a hunt?

But on second thought, it made sense — among the wealthy and noble at play, whoever won first place would gain favor from those above and the regard of the ladies. Working an angle in such matters was understandable.

But — why give it to Li Jingyun?

Li Jingyun was in a poor mood, his eyes listless. “Every year they pull this. How tiresome.”

Xu Changyi laughed. “Whoever manages to come to this place, who doesn’t want to keep living? Just do it as a favor to me and turn a blind eye.”

Pressing his lips together, Li Jingyun continued up the mountain without taking it.

Xu Changyi looked a little awkward, scratched the side of his face, and turned to smile at Huayue instead. “Steward Yin, why don’t you take it? It’d buy a few nice outfits.”

Huayue smiled back and shook her head.

“Hey, don’t be scared.” Xu Changyi glanced ahead, then rode up beside her and said quietly, “It’s fine for you to accept it.”

If even the master didn’t dare accept it, was it really fine for her to? Huayue looked at this rather handsome young man in front of her and thought — this wasn’t how one went about tricking someone.

Then Li Jingyun said flatly, “Take it if you want it.”

Huayue had no particular greed for banknotes, but since he had spoken, she accepted it and casually tore it open to look.

“…” She snapped the red paper shut at once, eyes wide.

Behind her, Liu Chenghe had already expected this reaction and laughed, leaning on his horse’s back. “Is the Steward satisfied?”

Was satisfaction even the question here? Huayue’s face had gone green. It was just a spring hunt — she’d assumed the bribe would be a few hundred taels at most. Instead, inside was a thick stack of five-hundred-tael notes.

A general’s yearly salary wasn’t even this much.

She reached out to stuff the red envelope back, but Xu Changyi immediately dodged away, gripping his reins and laughing. “Third Young Master, your maid really hasn’t seen the world. Or maybe it’s you who’s unfair, never bringing her out to play.”

Li Jingyun glanced sideways at him, smiling without warmth. “How would you like to play?”

“…” Sensing something was off, Xu Changyi tensed and straightened up at once. “Now’s not the time for playing. Liu-xiong and I will go check the west side first. Third Young Master, you go on ahead.”

“Farewell.”

With a flick of their horses’ tails, the two rode off at speed. Before Huayue could react, she reached toward them with the red envelope still in hand. “Hey…”

Li Jingyun pulled the reins and drew her mule back.

“Never seen a banknote before?” He glanced at her.

Huayue turned, her brows knitting into a knot. “If someone reports this, it’ll implicate the entire General’s Manor.”

“Do you want to report it?”

“No.” She gestured with her hands. “But we have no reason to keep this money.”

Li Jingyun didn’t bother explaining, only asked her, “Didn’t you want that hairpin from Baolai Pavilion? With these two red envelopes, you could buy a whole pile for your mistress.”

At those words, her eyes lit up instantly, gleaming bright in the light. But in just a moment, she calmed herself and said with solemn righteousness, “Still, one shouldn’t take such dirty money.”

“Then throw it away.” He turned his head indifferently and continued forward, leading her mule.

Several thousand taels of silver — to this lord it seemed to be nothing at all. Huayue’s expression was very serious; she didn’t dare actually throw it away, but holding onto it burned her hands too.

She struggled with it the whole way, thinking she’d wait and find Xu Changyi and the others later to return it, when suddenly a sharp whistling sound cut through the air ahead.

A fierce arrow pierced through branches and leaves, striking into a tree trunk with a thwack. In the distance came a person’s wailing cry: “Help — !”

Huayue tensed, steering her small mule in front of Li Jingyun, saying warily, “Young Master, be careful — there may be some beast ahead.”

Li Jingyun blinked, lowering his eyes to look at the person in front of him. His gloomy expression suddenly cleared a little. “What’s there to fear? Isn’t hunting beasts why we came here?”

Right, Huayue nodded — but then she was even more puzzled. “Then why is the person ahead so panicked? If they saw a large beast, shouldn’t they be calling for people to hunt it together?”

Li Jingyun gave a soft snort, pulling the reins to drag her small mule back two steps. “People don’t panic when they meet beasts. People panic when they meet people.”

Huayue didn’t understand, but somehow, she felt a chill down her back.

The person ahead was running closer, and seeing there were people this way, screamed as if gone mad: “Help! Save me!”

Huayue looked toward the man on the horse beside her, about to ask if he wanted to help — when suddenly everything before her eyes turned red.

A flying arrow pierced the man from behind; blood sprayed far. The fleeing man’s body suddenly stiffened, then collapsed heavily into the mud. His face carried extreme terror and unwillingness, eyes wide with burst blood vessels, staring stubbornly in their direction.

Huayue’s face turned pale in an instant.

Several people scrambled out of the bushes behind and hastily dragged the corpse away. One of them saw Li Jingyun and bowed with an apologetic smile.

Li Jingyun waved a hand as if this were nothing unusual, and the man quickly disappeared with the others through the foliage.

“Steward Yin has seen much of the world — this little thing surely won’t frighten you.” He turned her mule in a different direction, saying leisurely, “Hunting on this mountain, there are things you’ll see that you’d best pretend you didn’t.”

The person beside him said nothing. Li Jingyun raised an eyebrow and turned, mocking, “What, are you actually afraid—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. His expression changed.

Yin Huayue was staring straight ahead, her face rigid, faintly tinged with a pale blue-green, the vivid red of her lips fading, her whole body as if possessed by some spell.

“Hey.” He frowned, reaching out to pull her onto his horse, pinching the point beneath her nose, then striking her back.

Huayue coughed and began breathing in great gasps.

“What’s wrong with you?” He looked at her with distaste. “Someone who’s survived from Great Wei to Great Liang, and you’ve never seen a corpse before?”

Of course she had — she had even seen the exact same manner of death before, only that face had belonged to her closest kin, and the spraying blood had splashed all over her own face.

Huayue steadied herself, and the tension in her body gradually eased. After a moment of silence, she said self-deprecatingly, “This servant’s courage is so poor — following the Young Master like this, isn’t it a bit embarrassing?”

Li Jingyun eyed her with displeasure and reached out to feel her forehead. “Whatever else you can’t bear, just say it all at once, so you don’t keep having these fits and annoying people.”

“Nothing.” She lowered her head with a faint smile. “Don’t all girls fear such things? Having seen it once, this servant won’t be like this again.”

She climbed down from his horse, back onto her own small mule, and looked around warily. “Young Master, this servant thinks this place isn’t quite safe. Why don’t we head back today, so as not to be accidentally hurt?”

Li Jingyun flicked the reins, asking with amusement, “In your opinion, what does this lord use those red envelopes for?”

“To let people win first place.” Huayue thought about it. “Or to share some of the catch with others?”

Li Jingyun shook his head, tugging the mule forward with a kick to his horse’s belly. “That’s what they use to buy their lives.”

Yin Huayue: “…”

She thought he was joking. It sounded a bit frightening at first, but on reflection, she thought he was simply being overly arrogant. So many noble young masters had come hunting on this mountain today, including many of higher standing than the General’s Manor — saying such things against the grain, wasn’t he afraid of biting his own tongue?

Shaking her head, she tucked away the red envelope, still intending to return it.

Li Jingyun wandered the southern slopes, occasionally drawing his bow. Wherever the arrows fell, there was always prey — though only small rabbits and pheasants. Huayue rode her mule cheerfully to collect them, and along the way encountered two more incidents of others being “accidentally hurt.” She watched from a distance and shrank her neck.

Passing by a small hillside, Huayue’s eyes flickered.

“Young Master, there’s too much to carry. This servant will find a place to hide it and come back for it later,” she said with a smile. “Carrying such a large basket is nothing for this servant, but this mule is suffering.”

Li Jingyun was raising his bow, aiming at a patch of grass, and only gave an “mm” in response.

Huayue picked up the basket and rode off on her mule at a trot.

The map Shen Zhiluo had given her — she had studied it carefully the night before and had basically confirmed the location. Though she wouldn’t trust him entirely, she thought a detour to take a look wouldn’t hurt.

Li Jingyun rode off chasing a white deer, and Huayue hurriedly followed the map to find a large pit.

Just as Shen Zhiluo had said, the pine tree that had originally stood there had been dug up and removed, leaving behind a dirt pit and weeds. Beside it lay a rock, fairly flat, with no markings on it. If one didn’t know what lay beneath, one would think the rock quite ordinary.

Huayue climbed down and used a handkerchief to wipe away the dirt and dust on it.

The First Prince, once so brilliant and unrestrained, couldn’t even have a gravestone in death. Knowing Ninghuai’s temperament, he was probably raising quite a fuss down in the underworld.

She lowered her head, looking at it, and his face rose in her mind.

Yin Ninghuai had never treated her particularly well. From the moment they met, he had snatched things from her and teased her, even taking her out of the forbidden palace before she was five and dumping her outside, telling her to get lost.

She called him First Prince; he only ever called her the Little Mistress of the Western Palace. The two of them had fought so much they’d bloodied each other’s heads more than once.

But — the day the Liang army crossed the border, pressing straight toward Guanshan, Yin Ninghuai hadn’t handed her over. Even to the very end, Zhou Heshuo never knew that the Great Wei royal family was one short.

A lump caught in her throat. Huayue lowered her eyes and dug a handful of dirt away. “Weren’t you supposed to hate me most? Wouldn’t it have been fine to just take me with you?”

The wind stirred, weeds rustling.

“Want to curse at me?” She gave a small snort. “You can’t hear me curse back now.”

Her hands worked cleanly and efficiently, quickly digging out a pit. She looked down at it and laughed again. “What did you used to curse me with, again? That a wild bastard didn’t deserve to live in the forbidden palace, didn’t deserve to enter the imperial mausoleum. That if I were buried beside Father, you’d take a shovel and dig up my tomb.”

“Well, First Prince, look at this — you never got to dig up mine, but here I am, doing the digging myself.”

Their childhood bickering had ended with her on top, and Huayue laughed with delight — but as she kept laughing, her vision blurred.

Her fingers dug into the mud, dirt packed under her nails. She looked at them with distaste and complained, “Why did it have to be a place like this, so filthy and desolate, with nothing here at all…”

Her voice trailed off in her throat. Gritting her teeth, she pulled out the small crossbow hidden in her basket and used its head to pry open the harder soil beneath.

The pit had already been deep; she hadn’t dug more than a few feet before she truly struck a wooden box, its underside already fused with the earth, impossible to pull free. She steeled herself and pried the lid open.

A white porcelain jar, beside it a bundle wrapped in yellow brocade. She shook the cloth open and several seals and two carved jade pendants fell out.

These were all Yin Ninghuai’s personal tokens. Huayue, without even looking closely, tucked them into her robe and reached to pick up the porcelain jar.

“Bold servant, what are you hiding?”

A sudden clap of thunder cracked beside her; Huayue’s hand trembled, and instinctively she covered the porcelain jar with dirt, then looked up.

A man in snow-white brocade stood at the edge of the pit, looking down at her. He held a bow, and without a word, drew it and aimed at the space between her brows.

Huayue froze, then hastily said, “This servant belongs to the General’s Manor.”

“The General’s Manor…” His gaze swept to the edge of the yellow brocade visible in her robe, and he narrowed his eyes. “What is that? Take it out and let me see.”

Huayue was in a bind, glancing sideways — no sign of Li Jingyun anywhere.

“What are you stalling for? If you don’t take it out, this arrow won’t have eyes.” He drew the bow another half inch.

Stiffly, Huayue raised her hands and pulled out the item from her robe, placing it at the edge of the pit.

Yellow brocade had always been something only the imperial family could use; if it wrapped a seal or jade pendant, that would be no small matter. This man clearly knew his goods — one glance and his expression changed, the bow in his hand not loosening at all, killing intent even rising in his eyes.

Sensing something was very wrong, Huayue grabbed the bundle and tried to run, but the man was far too close — close enough that she could clearly hear the bowstring snap.

Hnng—

A feathered arrow came flying through the air. Huayue’s mind held only two words: it’s over.

The people of Liang were skilled riders and archers; anyone who could come hunting here was no easy mark. This arrow’s aim was excellent — there was no time to dodge.

The sharp arrowhead slowed before her eyes; Huayue could even see the reflection of the sky and grass folded upon it, distant tree shadows swaying, and even Li Jingyun’s face appeared within it.

So it was true, as they said — before death, one sees everything one thinks of.

She felt a little sad, even wanting to reach out and touch that reflection of him on the arrowhead.

But the next instant, a red-tailed arrow flew in from the side. With a clang, its head pierced through the shaft of the arrow before her, the wood splitting apart, splinters scattering as it was deflected off its course entirely, carried along and lodged into a fir post behind her, feathered tail drooping, motionless.

Huayue was stunned. She turned in shock and saw Li Jingyun, standing in his stirrups, drawing a second arrow against the light.

The cold arrowhead gleamed with sunlight; the red tail feathers were pulled taut against the bowstring. His brows and eyes were clear and cold as he gazed down the arrow’s line, his long robe flying fiercely, killing intent surrounding him.

For a moment, Huayue felt dazed, as if surrounded by a yellow dirt training ground. She looked up and saw him still wearing that fox-fur robe, red tassels in hand.

The shadow shifted, red tassel turning into red feather, the long arrow tearing through the air, striking somewhere, drawing a muffled thud.

Her pupils contracted; Huayue snapped back to herself and turned to look — but a horse suddenly cut across in front of her.

“Where’s your mule?” He pulled the reins to block her, asking.

Huayue looked up at him, the sunlight somewhat blinding, able to make out only the outline of his figure. She felt a little dazed, her heart still pounding fiercely. “It’s… tied up nearby.”

Li Jingyun waved a hand. “Go get on it.”

Obediently, she turned to find her mule again, then obediently returned to hand him the reins. Huayue steadied herself, still wanting to look toward that man from before, but he pulled her mule in the opposite direction instead.

“You already know this place isn’t entirely safe, and you still dare stray this far from me?”

She felt a little wronged. “How was this servant supposed to know the people here would kill without blinking?”

“On a hunting ground, blades have no eyes. It’s no surprise who dies.”

“But…” Huayue clutched at the reins, saying nervously, “That person you just struck down — from his attire, he seemed to have quite some status.”

Li Jingyun glanced sideways at her, laughing softly. “If we’re comparing status, could it compare to the status of the thing in your robe?”

Her expression froze; Huayue instinctively pressed the yellow brocade bundle closer to herself, but then realized this action was rather foolish — since he had already seen it, it made no difference now even if she swallowed it whole.

Hesitantly pulling out the yellow brocade bundle, Huayue said guiltily, “This servant was hiding prey and accidentally dug it up — didn’t even know what it was.”

“You dare pick up things you don’t even know what they are.” Li Jingyun took it and glanced over, a flicker of ink-dark emotion in his eyes. “Bold indeed.”

“Wrapped in yellow brocade — that’s worth some silver at least, isn’t it?”

He gathered the item into his own robe and gave a laugh. “Some things are worth silver. Some things are worth a life.”

So he didn’t plan to give it back? Huayue grew a little anxious. “Young Master, this servant found that.”

“Want it?” He glanced sideways.

“…Not particularly,” she said, tilting her head up with a placating smile, “but with your status, would something picked up off the ground really be so precious to you? Why not just gift it to this servant?”

Li Jingyun reined in his horse; her mule stopped as well. A mountain breeze had risen, blowing against the thin spring robes — still a bit chilly.

Huayue’s heart was uneasy; gripping the other end of the reins, she looked away, not daring to meet his eyes.

Her instinct told her Li Jingyun was suspicious, but for some reason he didn’t ask, only paused a moment before continuing on.

She didn’t dare bring up the bundle again, only watching him with longing eyes.

By noon, everyone was roasting meat where they stood. Xu Changyi and Liu Chenghe ran over, holding two rabbits, laughing at her. “Steward Yin, can you roast rabbit meat?”

Huayue had things on her mind and answered rather listlessly, “More or less.”

“Then we’ll trouble you.” The two stuffed the spices and rabbits into her arms and ran off happily to find Li Jingyun.

Huayue sighed, picked up the rabbits, and went to the riverside to clean them.

Li Jingyun sat under an old tree, holding a carved jade pendant, looking at it quietly. There was confusion in his eyes, and some faint unease.

“Third Young Master.” Xu Changyi sat down and laughed. “You wouldn’t believe it — the east side was a bloodbath. That fair-faced man the Princess Imperial has doted on lately got shot by one of the Crown Prince’s retainers, and the two sides immediately started fighting. Ha, not the least bit of courtesy spared.”

Putting away the jade pendant without a trace, Li Jingyun asked, “The two of you just stood there and watched?”

“How could we? The Princess Imperial’s side did pay us, after all — how could we just stand by with folded arms?” Liu Chenghe said seriously, then broke into a grin. “We stole two rabbits amid the chaos and gave them to your maid — she’ll have a full meal later.”

Li Jingyun glanced over and saw Huayue crouched not far off by the river, sleeves rolled up, skinning a rabbit. She couldn’t bear the sight of a corpse, but a dead rabbit she handled cleanly and efficiently, movements like a butcher’s, though her frame was slender. Her black hair was like clouds, her waist barely a handful, a pale green sash wound twice around it with a long tail still trailing over the pebbles by the river.

Unlike other servants, she always kept her back straight, even when bending to work — her bearing was better than that of ordinary maids.

He considered a moment, then turned and said, “Chenghe, I recall you went into the palace five years ago to catalog the former dynasty’s royal texts.”

“Why bring that up all of a sudden?” Liu Chenghe, gnawing on some fruit he’d picked from who-knows-where, thought about it while looking at the sky. “Yes, I did catalog them.”

“Do you remember how many royal heirs the former dynasty had?”

“Need I remember that?” Liu Chenghe waved a hand. “The former dynasty had only one First Prince, and he died at the hands of our own Crown Prince before he could even take the position of Crown Prince himself.”

Li Jingyun frowned, fingers rubbing the jade pendant inside his wide sleeve, saying hesitantly, “Was he the only one on the genealogy record too?”

“Yes, just him alone.” Liu Chenghe found this amusing. “Third Young Master, if there were any remnants of the former dynasty left, given our Crown Prince’s temperament, could he have slept soundly all these years? He’d have turned the whole capital upside down long ago.”

He took a bite of the fruit, wiping the juice carelessly on his sleeve, saying vaguely, “Never mind the Crown Prince — even the Princess Imperial wouldn’t sit idle. The two of them are fighting like mad right now; if there really were remnants of the former dynasty still around, our Great Liang would be quite lively indeed.”

“I see…” Li Jingyun lowered his eyes, brows still knit, still deep in thought.

Xu Changyi looked at him curiously. “What’s on your mind, Third Young Master? Did something happen?”

“Nothing.” Li Jingyun said. “I was just thinking of that farce at Yewei Lodge. If there really weren’t any heirs of the former dynasty left, why would this group risk their lives to assassinate the Eastern Palace? What would they even be trying to gain?”

“Revenge, of course. After all, our Crown Prince slaughtered their entire royal family back then, and showed no mercy to the common people of Great Wei either.” Xu Changyi sighed a little at this. “He won’t make much of a wise ruler in the future either.”

“Watch your mouth!” Liu Chenghe cut him off sharply, glancing around, angry. “If you want to die, don’t drag me and the Third Young Master down with you.”

Xu Changyi, a bit flustered, coughed twice and turned to call out, “Steward Yin, are the rabbits done yet?”

Huayue had just set the cleaned rabbits over the fire; hearing this, she said, half laughing, half exasperated, “Do you gentlemen want to eat raw meat?”

“That’s not it — take your time.” Xu Changyi laughed. “Mind your hands, don’t burn yourself.”

Li Jingyun looked up, his gaze cold and distant as he glanced toward him.

Liu Chenghe: “…”

He thought Xu Changyi would have been better off cursing the Crown Prince — the way he was carrying on, he clearly didn’t want to live either.

After the midday meal, the two of them followed Li Jingyun off, and the three of them hunted together and gathered quite a haul. By the time the sun set and they were heading down the mountain, Huayue, along with several other servants, carried large baskets on their backs and led a white deer and pheasants by hand.

“This deer’s beautiful — and remarkably, not a single wound on its body,” Xu Changyi marveled. “How did you catch it, Third Young Master?”

Without turning his head, Li Jingyun pointed at Huayue. “She caught it.”

Xu Changyi looked over; Huayue startled and shook her head quickly. “This servant knows nothing of the matter.”

“You wove the net that caught it — how is that not you catching it?” Li Jingyun gave a soft snort. “I’ll have it kept at the General’s Manor when we’re back, so you stop saying you’ve never seen one and need to come hunting yourself.”

Xu Changyi drew out a meaningful “Oh—”. “So that’s why the Third Young Master came along to join the fun this year. There’s a story here after all.”

Liu Chenghe joined in the teasing. “Never expected our Third Young Master to bow before beauty.”

Huayue felt a little embarrassed. She glanced sideways and saw Li Jingyun perfectly composed, saying expressionlessly, “I’ve seen little of the world, unlike you two gentlemen — with beautiful wives at home, you’ve grown used to beauty and naturally aren’t so easily swayed.”

At the mention of this, both men’s faces stiffened. Xu Changyi clutched dramatically at his chest, saying in pain, “Third Young Master, we’re brothers here — don’t stab a man in the heart like that. My wife, does she even have beauty to speak of?”

Liu Chenghe shook his head too, recalling something, his face turning pale. “Beauty, hah… who knows what kind of scene awaits me when I get back.”

Huayue was startled, then laughed. These two gentlemen seemed carefree on the surface, yet apparently had troubles waiting at home. Better not to bring it up — once mentioned, their faces stayed green the rest of the way, all the way back to the temporary palace, still not recovered.

Li Jingyun watched them off to their rooms with sympathy, then turned around and said earnestly, “Do you know why I don’t want to marry?”

Huayue smiled sweetly and shook her head at him. “This servant doesn’t know.”

“…”

Li Jingyun wished he could roast her over the fire too.

Sensing the killing intent, Huayue smiled placatingly and grabbed his bow and quiver, making a quick escape. The red phoenix-feather arrow swayed inside the quiver, its tail feathers looking especially beautiful.

In the main hall of the temporary palace, Zhou Heshuo was holding an arrow.

He examined the fiery red phoenix feather by candlelight, his eyes dark and terrifying.

Shen Zhiluo stood beside him, turning the compass in his hands twice before saying, “This man harbors no treachery.”

“He harbors no treachery.” Zhou Heshuo laughed lightly, turning the red-feathered arrow, pointing its tip at him, looking up. “No treachery, and yet he kills my man?”

A brocade-robed official lay covered by white cloth at the foot of the main hall’s steps. Several servants knelt to the side, trembling.

Zhou Heshuo truly couldn’t understand it. “Did this man offend him?”

“Reporting to Your Highness,” someone said from the side, “the official had no dealings whatsoever with young master Li.”

“No dealings, and yet he was shot dead with that man’s own unique arrow, straight through the skull.” Zhou Heshuo lowered his eyes. “Isn’t that a clear enough insult to me?”

“The reasons behind it, this official cannot say. But there is one thing Your Highness might consider.” Shen Zhiluo swept his sleeve. “Since ancient times, heroes have found it hard to escape the beauty’s snare. The Princess Imperial already knows to form a marriage alliance with him — how can Your Highness show no gesture at all?”

Zhou Heshuo seemed to understand at once, the corner of his eye sweeping to the side, a smile suddenly curling at his lips. “That, then, is easily arranged.”

Huayue was drawing water from the well in the back courtyard. She had just pulled up a bucket, hadn’t even poured it into the basin yet, when several servants came around another corner.

If it had just been servants, nothing much to see — but among them was a woman as beautiful as an immortal, skirts fluttering, long hair flowing like a waterfall, moving swiftly past through the corridor.

She found this novel, and holding up her water basin, ran back to tell Li Jingyun there was apparently a fairy in this temporary palace.

But when she entered, she found the fairy sitting beside Li Jingyun.

Huayue: “…”

Li Jingyun looked to be in a good mood, waving a hand at her. “Leave the water, you may go.”

Huayue pursed her lips but didn’t move. It wasn’t for any other reason — her mistress had specifically ordered her to help pair Miss Han with this Young Master. There was no reason to let someone else take advantage of the opportunity. It was already deep into the night, just the two of them alone — if she left, what then?

“Young Master.” Hesitating, she spoke up. “It’s getting late. If there’s a guest, perhaps it would be better to meet tomorrow?”

His dark eyes swept unhurriedly over her face. Li Jingyun gave a soft laugh. “You also know it’s late — but a guest who comes at this hour, once here, can she really just leave?”

Quite frank, not the least bit reserved. Huayue looked up and saw the fairy already flushed in both cheeks, her beautiful eyes glancing about tenderly, brimming with affection.

With the firewood and flame both ready, it seemed a bit inappropriate for her to pour a basin of cold water on things. Huayue thought about it and obediently said, “Then this servant will take her leave.”

Li Jingyun said nothing, watching her leave, pressing his lips together slightly.

Sishui, beside him, watching him, hadn’t paid the least attention to what the maid was saying.

At the Crown Prince’s side she could only ever be an entertainer, but here it would be different. The General’s Manor’s young master was young, promising, and full of vigor — if she could win his favor, she might secure herself a place as a side consort and enjoy a life of glory and wealth.

So her eyes fixed on him, waiting for that door to close so she might fly up to the branch and become a phoenix.

But then, the young master who had been smiling suddenly darkened his expression the instant the door shut, kicking aside the low stool by his feet and tugging at his collar, looking rather agitated.

“Are you hot, Young Master?” Sishui hurriedly rose, smiling as she moved to help loosen his robes.

“No need.” He stopped her hand, saying listlessly, “There’s something I can’t quite figure out.”

Getting straight to business like that seemed to lack any romance. Sishui withdrew her hand, smiling coyly. “If even someone as accomplished as you, Young Master, can’t figure it out, then surely this humble one won’t be able to either.”

He glanced at her, seeming a bit put off. Startled, Sishui hastily said, “But this humble one can listen. Please, go ahead, Young Master.”

“You women — if you had someone in your heart, would you be willing to hand that person over to someone else?” he asked.

Sishui was taken aback, not expecting this question. Blinking, she said, “If it’s truly someone kept close to the heart, then naturally there’s no giving them up. Never mind giving up — if anyone else so much as touched the one this humble one cared for, this humble one would sulk over it too.”

“But this heart of mine isn’t suited to being the primary wife of a great household. Those who become primary wives in such families don’t feel jealousy or envy — they devote themselves entirely to helping their husband’s line flourish.”

Li Jingyun was silent a moment, then grew even more annoyed. “She isn’t even the primary wife, so why doesn’t she show any jealousy at all?”

“Who?” Sishui didn’t understand.

He didn’t answer again, rising to light the incense in the room, then standing by the window to wait.

Sishui grew uneasy, not understanding why the young master wouldn’t look at her anymore. She glanced down at herself, then rose, wanting to speak with him more.

But as the smoke drifted past, she felt her legs weaken, unable to stand properly, and before long she began to feel drowsy.

“Young Master…” Hazily, she saw the figure by the window walking toward her, reaching out a hand gently.

Her heart lifted with joy, and Sishui reached out to grasp it — but before her fingers could touch his, everything went black before her eyes.

Huayue didn’t return to the servants’ quarters, but instead went to the back garden.

Moonlight lay silent. Shen Zhiluo stood beneath a tree in the courtyard, his robe blending with the night, only his face visible.

He heard the sound and turned back, smiling at her. “Found it?”

Huayue nodded, looking at him with difficulty.

“Found it, and yet you still make that face.” Shen Zhiluo laughed softly, reaching out to touch her hair bun. “Thinking of Ninghuai?”

“I wouldn’t think of him.” Huayue wrinkled her nose. “I have other matters.”

The Little Mistress of the Western Palace rarely showed goodwill toward anyone easily — her mouth could say anything except soft words. Shen Zhiluo sighed and shook his head, twirling the silver hairpin in her hair, and asked, “What other matters?”

Swallowing, Huayue said uneasily, “If the items buried with him fell into someone else’s hands… what would happen?”

His expression changed; Shen Zhiluo trembled slightly, the compass in his hand shifting, spinning with a clatter in a different direction.

He looked down, rubbing his forehead helplessly. “Whose hands did it fall into?”

“No one in particular.” She mumbled vaguely. “Just — the young master of the Li family.”

“Li Jingyun?” Shen Zhiluo laughed in exasperation. “You certainly know how to pick people to give things to.”

“I didn’t give it to him.” She was a little annoyed. “Something happened, and he found it — took it and won’t give it back. I didn’t even get a proper look at what was inside.”

Shen Zhiluo pressed his lips together, was silent for a while, then let out a breath. “Those items are of no use in his hands. Only in yours would they serve any purpose.”

Huayue’s eyes brightened.

“But don’t be too pleased. If it stays in his hands and the Crown Prince finds out somehow, your entire General’s Manor won’t be able to keep a single soul alive.”

Her heart lurched. She looked up at the person before her and found he wasn’t joking in the least — she couldn’t help but feel troubled.

She had to find a way to get it back.

Tonight was impossible — the young master had a beauty in his arms and would surely have a wonderful night ahead, unlikely to rest. Huayue suppressed her impatience and decided to find a way to retrieve it the following night.

As it turned out, by the next morning, the small courtyard was in an uproar.

No one knew who had leaked the news, but word spread that Li Jingyun had taken a favorite of a courtesan into his bed. Early that morning, Han Shuang came storming over, weeping and making a scene at Li Jingyun. The Princess Imperial arrived soon after, smoothing things over with a laugh, then casually ordered the courtesan dragged out and beheaded.

The courtesan certainly wasn’t willing to accept that — she cried out that she was a woman the Crown Prince had promised to Young Master Li. Before long, the Crown Prince himself arrived, saying the two made a fitting match and that Li Jingyun should take her as a concubine.

Han Shuang immediately fainted from crying. The Princess Imperial’s face turned livid, insisting on having the woman killed, while the Crown Prince refused. The two of them remained locked in a standoff in the main room, not even attending the next day’s hunt.

Huayue found it all rather absurd; she thought people always said beauty brought disaster upon men, but here was proof that handsome men brought disaster upon women too — this whole affair with Li Jingyun wasn’t much different from the tales of Baosi and Daji.

“Steward Yin.” Wen Guzhi appeared from somewhere, pulling her aside to offer comfort. “As for men, it’s inevitable they’ll have several wives and concubines. Someone like the Third Young Master certainly won’t have just one woman by his side.”

Huayue looked at him, baffled, then glanced at Han Shuang inside, still being revived with pressure points, and asked with a dry laugh, “Have you got the wrong person?”

Shouldn’t these words of comfort be meant for the Han family’s young lady?

Wen Guzhi froze, blinking as he looked her over. “You’re not upset?”

“Upset about what?” Huayue pulled at her own grey squirrel-fur robe to show him. “Is there anything here for this servant to be upset about? No one’s pressing my philtrum to wake me up when I faint, either.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Wen Guzhi couldn’t quite make sense of it. “You and the Third Young Master do seem quite fond of each other — with someone suddenly coming between you like this, don’t you feel anything at all?”

Fond of each other… She lowered her eyes and gave a mocking laugh. “How do you not understand? The young master is the master, and this servant is a servant. Even if we spend every day together, there’s no such thing as being fond of each other between us. He looks down on me, and I don’t necessarily care for him either.”

Wen Guzhi shook his head, still about to argue, but his peripheral vision caught someone approaching from behind her.

Li Jingyun stood in the doorway, still holding half a bag of preserved fruit. He tilted his head to look over, catching a perfect view of Yin Huayue’s small face tightened in earnest concentration.

Her eyes were as calm as ever, yet her bearing had turned exceptionally gentle, like a magnolia bathed in spring light, soft and deferential as she curtsied toward Wen Guzhi. “As long as the Young Master’s betrothal goes smoothly, it makes no difference to this servant who he takes a liking to.”

Something in his chest seemed to sink abruptly, heavily.