The Emperor’s order to arrange a marriage alliance between Ilina and Fu Yunxi now seemed filled with suspicious points. What could have compelled an Emperor to risk losing trust by changing his word? Han Yan’s mind drifted to one person – the Empress Dowager.

Could it be that the long-disappeared Seventh Prince was the one who spread the news about her relationship with Zhuo Qi?

Just as she was pondering this, she suddenly felt a gust of wind behind her. The next moment, a familiar figure appeared before her. Zhuo Qi looked at her with a grin, “Little girl, why did you come back?”

Han Yan responded coldly, “To make room for your sister to become the Princess Consort of Xuanqing, how else could she take the position if I didn’t leave?”

Zhuo Qi seemed used to Han Yan’s sarcasm and shrugged indifferently. “Thank you for yesterday,” he said, referring to when Han Yan had brought him to the inn for medical treatment after he was injured. Zhuo Qi remembered waking up to find Han Yan asleep at the table. He had expected her to leave immediately, as he could tell Han Yan was someone who acted with clear purpose. She could typically determine the advantages and disadvantages of a situation in the shortest time possible, and saving him held no benefit for her, either publicly or privately. It would have been normal for her not to save him, yet she had brought him back.

In Zhuo Qi’s life, he had suffered many injuries – on the battlefield and off it, from enemies and friends alike. He would usually just grit his teeth and endure until it passed. People didn’t notice the scars on his body; the world always focused on appearances, but even the most brilliant exterior couldn’t hide all wounds. When Han Yan stayed by his side, Zhuo Qi suddenly felt a warmth he hadn’t experienced since his father’s death. Despite Han Yan’s small and delicate frame, she gave him a sense of security.

It was something Zhuo Qi had come to cherish, something he didn’t want to let go of anymore.

“Did you spread the word about yesterday’s events throughout the capital?” Han Yan asked directly, dispensing with pleasantries.

“No, I didn’t,” Zhuo Qi answered promptly.

Han Yan studied his expression, and seeing no signs of deception, nodded thoughtfully. “Strange indeed, that news spread so quickly that very day.”

Zhuo Qi asked, “So that’s why you moved out of the Prince’s mansion?”

“Not entirely,” Han Yan shook her head while looking at him. “There were many reasons. However, this incident did start because of you. I’ve saved you twice now, so you owe me two favors.”

“No, just one,” Zhuo Qi smiled as he met Han Yan’s gaze. “I’ve already repaid one favor.”

“When?” Han Yan asked.

“During the last Spring Festival ceremony, when you were cornered at the cliff’s edge. I was the one who helped you then. That counts as repaying one favor, doesn’t it?” Zhuo Qi smiled at Han Yan.

Han Yan was startled, silently realizing it had been him. She had sensed someone helping her from the shadows back then but had wondered why they wouldn’t reveal themselves. Now it made sense – at that time, Western Rong and Da Zong were bitter enemies. As someone from an enemy nation, Zhuo Qi couldn’t risk being discovered in Da Zong. If he had shown himself, it would have implicated her as well, with people suspecting Han Yan of colluding with Western Rong.

Han Yan looked at him and considered briefly: “Even so, you still owe me one favor, don’t you?”

Zhuo Qi’s jade-colored eyes flickered. “How should I repay you? Offer myself in marriage?” Zhuo Qi wasn’t foolish; Han Yan’s words indicated she wanted him to do something. Realizing that Han Yan had saved him with ulterior motives made him somewhat uncomfortable. However, the fact that she had come to him rather than his confidants suggested this matter required his involvement. At least she trusted him more than seeking help from Fu Yunxi.

Han Yan smiled slightly. “Let’s skip the marriage proposal. I want you to investigate someone for me.”

“Who?” Zhuo Qi fixed his gaze on Han Yan.

“Someone with the character ‘Qiao’ in their name, connected to the Tang Clan,” she said.

Zhuo Qi pondered for a moment before asking, “The Tang Clan is a martial arts sect? Why are you investigating this?”

Han Yan smiled faintly. “You don’t need to know that. Will you help or not?”

Zhuo Qi grinned. “Of course, I will, but how will you thank me if I succeed?”

“You’re quite interesting,” Han Yan said. “Even if you succeed, it would only repay the favor you owe me, making us even. How could you ask for thanks?”

Zhuo Qi watched her every expression, saying with a half-smile, “You know very well in your heart whether it’s just one favor being repaid, don’t you?” His voice suddenly softened. “No need for special thanks. We’ve helped each other before, so we can be considered friends now. Helping a friend is natural, don’t you think?”

His tone was sincere, stripped of his identity as the Western Rong prince – he appeared simply as an ordinary person seeking acceptance. Han Yan suddenly remembered how Zhuo Qi had held her hand while unconscious the previous night, how vulnerable he had looked. How difficult must it be to live alone in the world? She nodded.

Zhuo Qi burst into laughter. “You’re my first friend in Da Zong, and you’ll be the last.”

Han Yan frowned, but before she could respond, Zhuo Qi continued, “I must go now. Whether I find anything or not, I’ll return in two days.” After a pause, he added, “Take care of yourself, and don’t mind what others say.”

Han Yan was taken aback, but he had already disappeared into the courtyard with a leap. He truly treated the Zhuang mansion like his own backyard, coming and going as he pleased.

Shu Hong asked puzzledly, “Young Miss, why did you entrust him with this task? Do you want to be his friend?”

“What’s wrong with being friends?” It was Ji Lan who answered. “He’s a prince of Western Rong, yet he’s not arrogant. He’s tall and handsome, gentle and considerate. If it weren’t for his help during the Spring Festival ceremony, who knows what might have happened to our Young Miss.”

Han Yan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at Ji Lan’s excessive praise of Zhuo Qi. She sighed and said, “I was deceiving him.”

Han Yan had her reasons for asking Zhuo Qi to investigate. Being in Da Zong limited his activities in many ways, and to keep track of various situations, he must have arranged numerous informants throughout the region. While she didn’t know the exact nature of Zhuo Qi’s network, his composed handling of various situations suggested these informants’ power shouldn’t be underestimated. Having Zhuo Qi investigate might yield better results than asking Fu Yunxi.

Though Zhuo Qi’s vulnerability might evoke sympathy, not everything in this world can be handled through compassion alone. While sympathy played a part, more importantly, Zhuo Qi was useful. As for friendship, becoming friends with someone like him carried too much risk. Whether Zhuo Qi’s words were sincere or not, in Han Yan’s life, friendship required time to prove itself, and she had known Zhuo Qi for far too short a time. At most, she could only view him as a not-too-disagreeable stranger.