Huang Zixia stared at the little red fish and let out a long sigh, murmuring, “Of all the cases I’ve encountered so far, none have had more leads, more tangled clues, or been more difficult to approach than this one.”

“That’s not all. If you continue investigating, you’ll discover even more terrifying undercurrents behind this case,” Li Shubai placed the crystal cup back on the small table, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. “This case will affect the rise and fall of the Empress’s power in both the imperial court and harem, the glory and shame of the entire Lang Ya Wang family, the survival of Prince Yi’s lineage, the remnants of the rebel Pang Jun, and even…”

At this point, he stopped speaking, only looking at the small redfish. Though his face showed its usual calm composure, Huang Zixia felt an inexplicable tightness in her chest, as if an invisible pressure made it slightly difficult to breathe.

She gazed at his indifferent profile, wondering in her heart: what was that “even”? What could be above the great noble families, imperial relatives, and rebel remnants he had listed? What kind of existence could be so unattainably high?

Looking at the small red fish before her that seemed so fragile it could be crushed between two fingers, she recalled what Li Shubai had said during their first meeting when she discussed the redfish—

“Do you know that even the current Emperor has explicitly stated he cannot intervene in this matter, yet you dare to take it upon yourself, saying you can handle this case?”

Huang Zixia stared intently at this unknowing, unaware little red fish. What was the background of this redfish that Li Shubai always kept with him, and what secrets did it involve?

Sunlight filtered through the carriage curtains, illuminating Li Shubai’s features. His exceptionally clear and clean profile wasn’t diminished by the light like the crystal cup had been. Against the backlight, his usually elegant and noble countenance instead appeared extraordinarily vivid and striking, almost painfully bright to look at.

She quietly watched Li Shubai, and in the slightly jolting carriage, suddenly felt the bewilderment of Heaven’s inscrutable ways.

At Prince Kui’s mansion, in the Yu Bing Pavilion.

Li Shubai and Huang Zixia had a piece of paper seven chi long and one chi eight cun widespread before them, covered in dense, tiny characters.

“These should be almost all the clues for this case,” Huang Zixia said.

Li Shubai stood before the desk, reviewing each point:

Wang Ru’s identity: A young lady from a prestigious family, yet escorted to the capital by a Yun Shao Yuan musician, and learned common entertainment songs from marketplace women since childhood.

Feng Yiniang’s death: Who was her acquaintance, why did she die among Youzhou refugees, and did Wang Ru know about it?

Xianyou Temple prophecy: How did that man move freely through heavy security, what was his identity, what was Wang Ru’s unknown past that he hinted at, and why did the arrow that killed Pang Jun appear?

Yong Shun Hall: Who openly attempted to assassinate Wang Ru in the palace, how did Wang Ru disappear under everyone’s watch, what was the origin and purpose of the half-silver ingot that suddenly appeared under the teacup?

Death of the capital’s beggars: Was it related to this case? Why did they die at the same time as the female corpse in Yong Shun Hall, from the same poison?

The fake female corpse: The corpse’s true identity, the poisoned wound and strange condition of the palm, how she appeared when Wang Ru disappeared, who wanted to use her to fake Wang Ru’s corpse.

Li Shubai reviewed it once, placed the paper in the incense burner to burn, then sat back down in his chair and said, “Let’s sort through the people with motives and suspicions.”

Huang Zixia hesitated, then said: “On the surface, the first should be Princess Qi Le. She has a motive—her admiration for you is well-known throughout the capital—and she had the opportunity, being in the palace the day Wang Ru disappeared.”

Li Shubai dismissed this with a smile: “Who else?”

“Second, Prince E. Whether it was him learning tricks in the West Market is unknown, and while his motive for sheltering Chen Nianniang makes sense, it seems a bit too coincidental.”

“Others?”

“Third, remnants of the rebel Pang Jun’s faction, taking this opportunity for revenge against the Prince.”

“More?”

Huang Zixia hesitated for a long while before saying: “Those in court who oppose the Prince’s political views or intend to suppress the Wang family.”

“Speaking of that, there would be quite a list of candidates.” Li Shubai’s face showed that somewhat mocking expression again as he asked casually, “No others?”

“There are a few possibilities with low probability, such as Wang Ru’s enemies from Lang Ya, or from Yangzhou where Feng Yiniang was from.”

“But don’t the signs still point more toward me being the target?”

“Yes,” Huang Zixia nodded. “So it’s unlikely that people they had previous grudges with followed them to the capital, let alone have the means to act within the imperial palace.”

“Regarding the truth of the case, there’s one possibility you haven’t mentioned.” Li Shubai leaned back in his chair, looking at her with slightly upturned lips.

Huang Zixia went through the case details in her mind again with surprise, saying: “What have I… overlooked?”

“The supernatural explanation that everyone in the capital believes,” Li Shubai crossed his arms as he leaned back, that cold smile becoming more evident on his face. “Isn’t it that Pang Jun, whom I shot dead, must fulfill the curse written on that talisman against me? That’s why he first left the arrow as a warning at Xianyou Temple, then took my intended princess bride from among heavy guard, and finally returned the tragically dead princess’s body to the original spot.”

“Indeed, explaining it this way ties together the motive, method, and process perfectly,” Huang Zixia said.

“If you truly can’t figure it out, then let the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review close the case like this.”

Huang Zixia slowly shook her head, saying: “I will uncover the truth. This killer not only murdered Wang Ru but also implicated Feng Yiniang and four innocent beggars. Even if just for Chen Nianniang, even if just for the beggars that no one cares about, I must bring the killer to justice. Moreover—”

Li Shubai watched her, seeing her resolute expression and eyes showing no hesitation as she gazed at him intensely, her voice carrying both weary hoarseness and firm determination.

“If I can’t help you solve this case, how could I return to Shu to clear my parents’ and family’s wrongful charges?”

Li Shubai naturally remembered her promise to him, so he remained silent. He gazed at the young woman before him while her eyes were fixed on the distant horizon outside the window.

As if remembering something, she suddenly turned to look at him and asked: “By the way, how is that talisman of yours now?”

“Care to guess?” He stood up and retrieved a small square box from the cabinet behind him.

The box had no visible lock, only eighty-one squares arranged on the lid with eighty character blocks, each bearing scattered characters.

Huang Zixia knew this was a nine-palace lock—only when all eighty characters were in their exact positions could the box be opened; otherwise, the box would have to be destroyed to access its contents.

She turned her head away, naturally avoiding looking at how the characters were arranged in Li Shubai’s box. When the box opened, Li Shubai reached inside and took out an oval-shaped small ball. The ball was hemispherical, sitting steadily on the table. The upper hemisphere had fine cracks, like an egg carved into a lotus flower pattern, while the bottom base was circular with three rings, each bearing subtle protrusions.

“On these three rings of keys, there are twenty-four small protrusions on each, all of which can be rotated left or right. Only when they’re all aligned in the correct position can this round box be opened. Otherwise, the contents inside will be shredded the moment the round box is opened,” Li Shubai explained while adjusting the hidden points.

Li Shubai had indeed hidden that talisman very well.

As the three bottom rings rotated into their correct positions, Li Shubai placed the round box on the table and pressed down on the round top. The lotus-like round box, pulled by mechanical pins, suddenly split open petal by petal, like a wooden carved lotus instantaneously blooming before them.

In the center of the lotus petals lay that talisman, perfectly still.

The talisman’s paper was thick and slightly yellow, two cun wide and eight cun long. Above the strange background pattern, the six characters for “widowed, disabled, orphaned, alone, waste, illness” remained as clear as if just written.

On the character for “alone,” the blood-red circle was still vivid and dripping. But above the character for “Widowed,” what was once a bright red circle had faded, leaving only a faint red trace, just like the character for “Disabled” before it, its predestined blood-red mark having faded away.

Huang Zixia looked up at Li Shubai in astonishment.

His hands lightly brushed the blooming round box, and like before, the petals closed one by one, returning to their half-oval shape.

“This marriage has dissipated into nothing—it seems I’ve escaped another cursed disaster.”

Li Shubai seemed completely unconcerned as he returned the round box to the square box, scrambled the nine-palace lock, and stored it back in the cabinet, his movements as relaxed as before.

Huang Zixia quietly asked: “You’ve kept this talisman safely stored here all along?”

“I don’t know if it’s been safe enough, but I’ve rarely shown it to anyone,” he slowly raised his eyes to look at her, saying, “Perhaps I could say that since leaving Xuzhou, you’re the only person besides myself who has seen it.”

Huang Zixia felt an unusual surge of emotion in her heart. She looked up to meet his gaze, remote and profound. He seemed to be looking at her, yet not. He was looking at something distant and illusory, or perhaps at something within reach yet forever unattainable.

Huang Zixia unconsciously turned her face away, avoiding his eyes, and escaping toward the window outside.

In the Yu Bing Pavilion, only the sound of their breathing echoed softly. Among the bird calls outside the window came one or two cicada songs, suddenly making one realize that late spring had ended, and early summer had arrived.