“Then this servant will—wait, Wangfu?” Shuang Jiang looked rather blank. “Can Wangfu fight off assassins?”
“No.”
“…”
“But he’s alert. If a thief breaks in, he can wake us up.” Huayue said. “As long as we’re awake, then it doesn’t matter who comes—we won’t be afraid.”
Li Yun listened, quite astonished, looking around and thinking that this cold, quiet little courtyard actually had guards hidden within it after all. But how could this young mistress be so confident—what if the assassins coming were even more skilled than whoever was hidden in the courtyard? What would they do then?
This question found its answer half a month later.
Half a month of continuous lung-damaging paste had not achieved the slightest effect, and someone grew impatient, bringing several highly skilled assassins over the wall under cover of a moonless, windy night.
They had scouted ahead—the household kept a dog, but these men were confident that with their skill, they wouldn’t wake it.
As a result, the moment several figures landed with a soft thud, the sleeping Wangfu still let out a sharp bark.
“What happened?” one of the men said angrily. “Who made a sound?”
The assassin beside him silently looked down at the dog’s tail he was standing on, and let out a long sigh.
The dog’s barking woke the three people sleeping in the main room. Li Yun sprang up like a carp flipping over. “My lady, don’t be afraid, this one—”
Before she finished speaking, her hand was suddenly gripped tight—Huayue pulled her and Shuang Jiang along and, without another word, jumped into the secret passage hidden beneath the tooth-pulling bed. It was only after the group had stumbled their way through the passage all the way to the Capital Governor’s office that Li Yun finally understood what “it doesn’t matter who comes, we won’t be afraid” actually meant.
Who could possibly catch up to them like this?
The Capital Governor’s office was empty in the middle of the night, only a few clerks on duty guarding the hall. Zhaofeng, having received word, rushed over and settled them in the office’s side rooms, having them watched over while they slept soundly.
After this whole ordeal, though it had ended without serious harm, Huayue’s body still wasn’t quite comfortable. Li Yun couldn’t help urging her, “Wouldn’t it be better to go back to the General’s residence? At least there are more guards there, no need to keep fleeing like this.”
Wanting to say more, Li Yun fell silent instead.
She had once asked her teacher why the young mistress, despite being pregnant, had instead fallen out of favor. Her teacher told her that the young mistress hadn’t fallen out of favor—she simply didn’t want to be favored at all. If she were only willing to give the Third Young Master a way to step down gracefully, the two of them wouldn’t have come to this point.
Which was to say, if she would only go and ask the Third Young Master, she could return to the General’s residence.
But looking at those faint traces of desolate indifference in her eyes, Li Yun shook her head.
The young mistress wouldn’t go ask. Even if there hadn’t been that secret passage today, she would still choose to stay in that small courtyard.
Zhaofeng chatted with Huayue for a while, then left—not in a hurry to return to the residence herself, but because Liu Chenghe was still out drinking with others at Qifeng Tower, and she needed to go fetch him.
Qifeng Tower was brightly lit, with Li Jingyun seated in the place of honor, everyone else around him already slumped and disheveled from drink. She’d left partway through, and Su Miao, seeing her return, immediately looked up. “What happened, why are you rushing back in such a hurry?”
“Nothing, just went to the Capital Governor’s office.” Sitting down beside her, Zhaofeng glanced toward the seat of honor, not daring to speak too loudly.
Everyone in their group understood—lately, Third Young Master and that Madam Yin were on particularly poor terms, and no one was permitted to even mention her. Before, whenever someone tried to offer him a beautiful companion, he’d give them a stern look for it—but now, even with a singing girl seated in his lap, he showed not the slightest resistance. If it weren’t for still being in mourning for Madam Zhuang, the General’s residence might well be adding another celebration soon.
Wary of upsetting the Third Young Master, Zhaofeng thought it best to stay quiet.
But Su Miao had always been intensely curious, hating most of all when people only told her half a story. She immediately pouted, tugging at her sleeve insistently. “Come on, that Capital Governor’s office—what’s there to go to? Young Master Liu’s sitting right here without moving, why did it have to be you who went? Sister Zhaofeng, are you thinking I’m too drunk to notice and trying to fool me?”
“No.” Zhaofeng lowered her head, trying to signal her to stop. “The young lady’s had too much to drink, better rest a while.”
Su Miao, her eyes hazy with drink, couldn’t see the hint at all, and pressed on relentlessly. “Quick, tell me. All this poetry and prose they’re going on about is boring to death—I’m counting on you to bring back something interesting.”
Unable to resist her, Zhaofeng glanced at Li Jingyun, then leaned in carefully, lowering her voice. “Something happened with Huayue, she went to the Capital Governor’s office—I went over to help settle things.”
“Little sister-in-law?” Su Miao raised her eyebrows, her voice not lowered in the slightest.
The originally lively banquet suddenly fell silent.
Li Jingyun’s hand, gripping his wine cup, stiffened for a moment, his cold ink-dark eyes sweeping over toward them, carrying a chill like the autumn night wind.
Shivering, Zhaofeng covered Su Miao’s mouth, forcing an apologetic smile. “The young lady’s had too much to drink, Third Young Master, please don’t mind her.”
“The young lady really does drink more than us grown men here.” Liu Chenghe spoke up. “You’ve got something weighing on your heart, and the more you drink, the more it’ll hurt. Better set that wine down and go rest in a room for a while.”
“Yes, drinking this much really isn’t good for your health either.”
Everyone chimed in together, helping to smooth things over. Zhaofeng took the opportunity to help Su Miao up, hurrying to leave the banquet as though fleeing.
Li Jingyun didn’t look at them again, acting as though nothing had happened, taking up the conversation Liu Chenghe offered, chatting idly along.
Liu Chenghe felt somewhat uneasy, worried this lord might blame Zhaofeng for it, but after chatting for a good while, Li Jingyun never brought up the earlier incident again. Liu Chenghe relaxed, glancing at the singing girl in his lap, unable to help feeling a touch of wistfulness.
So it was true, romantic feelings really were fleeting as clouds—Third Young Master just wanted someone by his side, and who exactly that person was hardly seemed to matter.
“Chenghe.” The man in the seat of honor suddenly called out to him.
Liu Chenghe came back to himself, smiling as he asked, “What instructions does Third Young Master have?”
“There have been some promising talents at the training grounds lately with nowhere to go yet.” Li Jingyun said flatly. “Go arrange for them—have them start out guarding some households for now, and once they’ve settled down, they can be sent into the palace. Don’t pick a peaceful, quiet household—find something more precarious, so they’ll have a chance to prove themselves useful.”
Given such a sudden assignment, Liu Chenghe was somewhat confused, but agreed nonetheless.
Li Jingyun lowered his eyes, continuing to drink. The singing girl in his arms obligingly offered up a cup to him. He stared at it for a moment, his eyes showing no particular emotion, yet still lowered his head and drank it down.
The next morning, Zhaofeng personally escorted Huayue back to the small courtyard. Looking over the two scrawny guards stationed there, she truly couldn’t feel at ease, and went to ask Liu Chenghe to spare a few more people to help.
Liu Chenghe, worrying over how to arrange the assignment the Third Young Master had given him, was delighted to hear that the small courtyard had been attacked, and immediately sent over the men Li Jingyun had assigned him.
He didn’t dare tell the Third Young Master where he’d sent the men, and the Third Young Master didn’t ask either. On Madam Yin’s side, it was explained as a favor from Zhaofeng—both sides kept comfortably in the dark, sparing him the trouble.
Liu Chenghe couldn’t help but feel quite pleased with his own cleverness.
With more people at the small courtyard now, Huayue no longer had to sleep with one ear listening for Wangfu’s barking. Her complexion improved considerably, her waist beginning to round out too. Half-reclined on the soft couch reading letters, she looked, from the side, like a languid cat.
She was reading the divination Shen Zhiluo had sent her, saying strange omens had appeared beside the Crown Prince’s star of fortune, suggesting something else might be encroaching on its glory.
Zhou Heshuo had naturally seen this too. Given how his relationship with Shen Zhiluo had grown somewhat distant lately, Shen Zhiluo couldn’t be sure whether he still put stock in such things.
Huayue smiled slightly, picking up her brush to write two letters, one of them addressed to Zhou Hemin.
Zhou Hemin had nearly been bored to death shut up in his princely estate. As an idle prince with nothing else to do, he spent his days listening to advisors and subordinates discuss government affairs, reading documents, walking his birds—a fine young man living a life like an old man’s, leaving him thoroughly depressed.
Receiving Huayue’s letter, he rarely brightened, agreeing to the meeting without a second thought.
The two of them arranged to meet at Qifeng Tower. It was the end of the eighth month, and the tower had acrobatic performances from the martial world, as well as beauties from the Western Regions—the whole place bustling with life. To avoid suspicion, Huayue didn’t sit with him, the two of them seated separately, east and west, each at their own table screened by flowers and beaded curtains, watching the same performance from a distance.
Zhou Hemin had only wanted to come out and enjoy the liveliness with her. Given their difference in status, the two of them couldn’t talk the way they used to, and he understood that well enough. Only, he hadn’t been sitting long before he spotted Li Jingyun.
Commander Li had been extremely busy lately, and it was difficult for anyone requesting an audience to actually see him. Zhou Hemin happened to have some business to discuss with him too, so he went over to exchange pleasantries, and the two of them ended up sitting together in a private booth, speaking quietly.
It was purely coincidental. Though some people did happen to notice, they were only curious about what the two of them might be discussing there, and it didn’t cause any stir.
But unfortunately, following this private meeting, the Crown Prince knelt before the Emperor in the imperial study, requesting authority over the palace’s security patrols. The Emperor didn’t grant it, and after keeping Li Jingyun and others back to discuss the matter, ended up handing this prized assignment to the Fifth Prince instead.
This had actually been the suggestion of Feng Zixi and several senior cabinet ministers, and had nothing to do with Li Jingyun at all. But the Crown Prince had no way of knowing what had happened in the imperial study—the assignment hadn’t gone to him, Li Jingyun had been present, and on top of that, someone had sent word accusing him of being overly close with the Fifth Prince, with witnesses claiming to have seen the two of them together at Qifeng Tower.
Zhou Heshuo was displeased. When Li Jingyun later requested an audience, he claimed illness and turned him away.
This time, it wasn’t even a matter of his suspicious nature being excessive—the coincidences had simply piled up too thoroughly to explain away. After all, he could hardly have guessed that someone would know Li Jingyun would be settling accounts at Qifeng Tower at the end of the month, and would deliberately time their visit to coincide with it.
Well aware of Qifeng Tower’s account-settling schedule, Yin Huayue looked silently at her own reflection in the mirror, feeling as though the word “disaster” was practically carved into her own forehead.
It wasn’t that she meant any harm to the Fifth Prince or Li Jingyun—if the two of them grew close, the Crown Prince would have no way to move against either. It was only that if Li Jingyun kept leaning toward the Crown Prince’s side, then no matter how vast Shen Zhiluo’s abilities were, he’d never find an opening against Zhou Heshuo.
Only if Li Jingyun and Zhou Heshuo gradually grew apart would their opportunity finally arrive.
Sitting in the front courtyard, Shen Zhiluo spoke quietly with her, coughing now and then. His face was pale and colorless, and it troubled Huayue to see it. “Falling ill and not seeing a physician about it?”
“I’m not ill.” Covering his mouth with a handkerchief through a bout of coughing, Shen Zhiluo lowered his eyes. “It’s just windy outside.”
That wasn’t ill? He looked practically at the end of his rope. Huayue found it rather puzzling. “It seems like ever since we reunited, your health hasn’t been very good.”
A strange look flickered through his eyes. Shen Zhiluo turned aside to avoid her gaze, changing the subject. “Has Su Miao come to see you recently?”