“Hiding here?”

Qi Fan looked up in astonishment at the gaudy signboard reading “Qihua Residence” on the distant gatehouse, and those two characteristic lanterns painted with pink pipa, shaking his head with bitter laughter as he spoke to the subordinate tracking expert from Huang Meng beside him: “It’s really here?”

The other nodded solemnly, indicating there was absolutely no deception.

“Keep watching,” Qi Fan ordered. “Find out which whore these people are visiting, who they are, we can’t alert them prematurely.”

“Yes!”

On his way back to the small courtyard, Qi Fan suddenly saw someone selling poria cakes by the roadside. Thinking that Baozi loved eating them, he went to buy a pound. Carrying the paper bag of cakes, he was walking back when he suddenly collided head-on with someone.

Without looking up, Qi Fan very skillfully and quickly said: “Sorry, excuse me.” He lifted his leg to leave.

But the other person suddenly grabbed his clothing, voice trembling with excitement.

“Young Master!”

The rear window of the side room in the small courtyard faced the peach trees outside the alley. At this time of year, all the peach blossoms had already fallen, and that kind of breathtakingly beautiful crimson enchantment had faded away, leaving only a few late-blooming scattered remnant flowers, creating a dimpled smile of adornment in the moonlight.

Chu Feihuan sat alone beneath the window, in the pale moonlight filtered through emerald gauze, carefully examining a remnant peach petal that had fallen into his palm. He thought of that year, under the moon by the bridge, sparse stars and cloud shadows, wind stirring the peach grove with countless falling flowers, and the woman of peerless grace who handed him that belated peach blossom with her slender hand. At that moment, her gaze connected with the stars and Milky Way, vast and boundless, while he no longer knew whether he was intoxicated by this particularly beautiful yet melancholy peach blossom, or by the flowing glances from her eyes.

This intoxication lasted a lifetime.

Now it was but a remnant life.

Beautiful dreams were always hard to retain, incomplete poems impossible to continue. Those full trees of blossoms would fall and bloom again, magnificent scenes repeating year after year in cycles, but the past could ultimately only become memories, pressed between the pages of memory’s books, turned daily with familiar fragrance, yet too fragile to gather. The lost time was lush and joyful, making the present mood seem even more desolate by comparison.

There was a kind of indulgence, silent yet soul-stirring.

Just like flowers falling soundlessly.

…In the darkness without lamp or fire, a tall, upright figure appeared, leaning casually against the doorframe, gazing intently at his silhouette.

“You want to leave, don’t you?”

The man who spoke had a clear, bright voice, though he spoke slowly. From his voice alone, one could tell he was the type whose nature was heroic and forthright, but who had developed a composed and steady demeanor from long dwelling in high position.

His upturned brows revealed a trace of surprise—he had expected Su Xuan to come, but unexpectedly it was him.

Chu Feihuan turned back to look at Xiao Jue. In the darkness, Xiao Jue’s eyes shone bright as cat’s eye stones, brilliant and radiant. There was a type of person in this world who was never tainted by dust, forever high-spirited, whose very sorrow was bright and intense, pressing layer upon layer before one’s eyes.

Born to rule the world, with unparalleled dominance, an undefeated war god in golden flames, his upturned brows like an eagle’s flying feathers, like blade edges always ready to burst from their sheaths.

Such a person, so vivid and brilliant, could not be ignored by anyone, could they? Even she was the same, wasn’t she?

Chu Feihuan’s expression remained leisurely and indifferent. To Xiao Jue’s earlier question, he only responded with a faint “Hmm?”

His tone was noncommittal, yet his heart was not without surprise. He understood Xiao Jue well enough—a man so violent and forthright would most easily exhibit the flaw of insufficient delicacy, finding it difficult to comprehend others’ thoughts. He hadn’t expected that these years of being emperor had truly changed him considerably. At the very least now, apart from Chang Ge, probably only he could see through his own thoughts.

Could he see through them because, in his heart, he only regarded himself as a “romantic rival,” and was therefore especially guarded?

He couldn’t help but smile faintly, then quickly concealed his smile. Chu Feihuan thought with some melancholy—indeed, his body was failing. Though not yet old, his thoughts could no longer concentrate, always preferring to reminisce about the past, always thinking about trivial matters. How ridiculous.

While he was lost in thought, Xiao Jue was not as calm as he, always staring at him intently. After a long while, he said: “You’ve lost your martial arts and are physically disabled. You know you’re finished, so you want to leave Chang Ge.”

He spoke with extreme certainty. Chu Feihuan finally turned to look at him and replied: “If it were you, what would you do?”

Xiao Jue fell silent. After a long time, in the heavy dark shadows, he said hoarsely: “I can’t imagine… I truly don’t know what I would do in such circumstances. Regarding some things I value most, I feel I sometimes lack such courage. Just like how I once felt that if Chang Ge left me, it would truly be an unimaginably terrifying thing. Yet she really did leave me, and even now I haven’t been able to truly bring her back—but I also lived through those years somehow. Now, however, I can’t remember how I got through them.”

He spoke very simply, even somewhat incoherently due to emotional turmoil, yet Chu Feihuan was slightly moved. After a long while, he said: “I understand. For some things, one never knows their true nature without experiencing them personally. Others’ so-called consolations are really just scratching an itch through one’s boot.”

Staring at Chu Feihuan’s tranquil countenance, Xiao Jue suddenly realized that the man before him was also Chang Ge’s admirer. In that great fire at Changle, he had lost his beloved wife, while this man had also lost the woman he loved. At the same time, he had also lost his martial arts and healthy limbs. The world was truly cruel, with no boundaries or limits.

In the spring cold, amid the fierce wind, Chu Feihuan said quietly: “My sister is looking for me. The Flying Shark Guards have appeared in Yingdu—I’m sure you already know about this.”

“Yes. Are you—planning to return with them?” Xiao Jue looked toward that direction east of the great sea. “Princess Jianxi is a heroine among women with great ambitions. Her search for you surely isn’t meant to harm you. After all, you are the one among the princes of the Li Kingdom who has inherited the most of your ancestors’ deep sea dragon clan bloodline. It’s just unfortunate that you have the additional ability to read minds, which attracts jealousy.”

“They all fear this ability. Why do you think Feng Yao doesn’t fear it?” Chu Feihuan’s gaze was as transparent as deep sea crystal, reflecting mysterious light. “Moreover, I am male and she is female. She seeks to usurp power and plot for the throne—wouldn’t she worry about being overthrown someday?”

“You know your own sister,” Xiao Jue smiled with certainty. “If it were an ordinary woman, she would fear it. But if it’s Chu Feng Yao, would she fear it?”

After a moment of silence, Chu Feihuan seemed to acknowledge his judgment, but said: “No, I won’t return.”

“Then you—” Xiao Jue was startled, then understood. “You will leave, but not return to Li Kingdom?”

But Chu Feihuan had already turned his head away, letting the intermittent wind sounds answer for him.

Simply walking around to sit in front of Chu Feihuan, staring into his eyes, Xiao Jue said: “What do you need? I’ll have people send it from the palace. If there’s none available, I’ll have it found for you. I heard Chang Ge mention several medicines that can bring the dead back to life. I’ll issue proclamations throughout the realm to find them for you.”

This time it was Chu Feihuan who was astonished, staring at Xiao Jue in surprise: “What are you doing?”

Slumping backward, Xiao Jue said: “Hoping you’ll recover. If you get better, Chang Ge won’t carry the heavy burden of conscience either…”

Immediately understanding his meaning, Chu Feihuan shook his head: “You’re wrong. Chang Ge isn’t the type to mistake sympathy for love, confusing the two. She’s even less likely to use herself to repay emotional debts. When she chooses, it will always be the person in her heart, unrelated to favors or sacrifices.”

“Chang Ge wouldn’t, but I can’t,” Xiao Jue said helplessly. “I can no longer pursue her without any scruples…”

His gaze flashed, and a faint smile rippled like water waves. Chu Feihuan looked at Xiao Jue with benevolent mockery: “Your Majesty, after being emperor for so many years, how do you still retain some kindness? Aren’t you afraid that if I recover, I’ll compete with you for Chang Ge, or even compete with you for the empire?”

“That would be best!” Xiao Jue’s brows lifted, and pride and dominance immediately soared through his features. “If you recover, whether you return to Li Kingdom or stay here, I can compete fairly with you for Chang Ge’s heart, no longer having to consider anything else. I don’t like the feeling of bullying the weak.”

With a bitter sigh, he said: “By rights, Chang Ge is my wife—why should I have to compete with you for her? She was mine to begin with, but fate has turned everything upside down. She’s no longer considered mine, and with this reversal, I feel I’m at a disadvantage compared to you. Chang Ge won’t use herself to repay favors, but who can guarantee that in her heart, due to your many sacrifices, she won’t look after you more? Over time, won’t caring feelings possibly turn into romantic feelings? No one can guarantee this. I’ve thought it over—if you can stand up and we can compete fairly, that would be best. Chang Ge would be freed from the shackles on her heart and could more clearly decide her own feelings. Don’t you think so?”

“Your Majesty possesses heroic and forthright character, yet is quite delicate in matters of love,” Chu Feihuan coughed lightly, raising his sleeve to catch a peach petal floating into the window, pinching it between his fingers where it stained crimson like blood. “If it could be so, why wouldn’t it be good? But does Your Majesty know what prescription could cure me?”

“Nothing is difficult if one has the will,” Xiao Jue smiled with complete confidence, standing up to leave. “It’s late, I must return to the palace. Another day I’ll have Chang Ge copy the prescription for me. I don’t believe that with Xi Liang’s wealth and the full power of the nation, I can’t cure you.”

Could it be cured?

The wind stirred by his departure slightly lifted fine, smooth hair. In the darkness, a peach blossom fell to the ground with tragic grace, yet that countenance more beautiful than peach blossoms had not diminished a fraction of its deep, quiet elegance due to this destruction. He only remained silent amid the crisscrossing moon shadows on the ground, gazing at the falling peach blossom with cherishing expression. The flower’s faint fragrance lingered on his fingertips, evoking long-dwelling memories… The scenery in memory was beautiful as April roses in bloom, yet at this moment he felt only loneliness like water, drowning him.

On the peach petals, on the plain sleeves, there was something faintly redder than the flower’s color…

Time waits for none, long winds hasten aging…

In the darkness where the door stood half-open, starlight from the small courtyard fell unobstructed on a silently standing figure. That figure had maintained the same posture and expression throughout the earlier conversation, silently listening. That expression was like looking at a scene of life’s meaning through misty clouds of the mortal world—possessing extraordinary grace and elevated charm, yet every stroke was tangled, making it impossible to distinguish beginning from end.

For a long time, she looked up. The starlight filling the sky poured into her eyes, then transformed into pervasive mist. A few traces of melancholy appeared at her brow—however long the wind, it could never dispel it.

The character for love was nothing more than a simple few strokes, yet written by different people, each possessed profound strength, carved into the heart. Each dot and stroke carried deep meaning.

His wild cursive, your elegant standard script—phoenix dance and dragon flight, but whose heart do they depict?

Today, do not ask about love—asking about it only creates knots in the heart…

Qi Fan returned to the small courtyard somewhat later than expected. Upon entering, he immediately noticed Qin Chang Ge lost in thought in the courtyard. It was rare for him to see Qin Chang Ge in such a state. He walked around her in circles, looking her up and down, earning himself an annoyed glare from Qin Chang Ge.

In the hazy night, Qi Fan’s eyes weren’t entirely clear, but his tone was light: “What’s wrong? On such a night with such stars, for whom do you stand exposed to wind and dew at midnight?”

“For you…” Qin Chang Ge had returned to normal, looking over indifferently. “Why were you gone so long? Any results?”

“Hearing your first sentence, I thought I was going to be in trouble,” Qi Fan laughed. “Fortunately, your object of spring yearning isn’t me—mm, I waited there for a while and got their exact location before returning. By the way, how did you know the Flying Shark Guards would disguise themselves as spectators and mix in? You deliberately put something on the celebration money so they’d change color upon touching it?”

“This was Feihuan’s strategy,” Qin Chang Ge glanced at the dark house, something strange in her gaze as she slowly said: “These past few days, someone has been snooping around nearby. Feihuan was suspicious then. The Flying Shark Guards are skilled—they actually tracked us here. Feihuan said that those who can enter the Flying Shark Guards are all skilled in water. After joining, their training is harsh and special—they practice martial arts among deep sea reefs. To avoid long-term immersion in deep seas damaging their skin, they constantly apply oil made from deep sea monster fish membranes. Over time, this penetrates deep into their skin and never disappears. When Feihuan was very young, he discovered this oil causes certain specific substances to change color—like the juice of three-tooth grass… Since it’s really them, it’s easy to handle. Li Kingdom has infiltrated Xi Liang, searching for Feihuan while probably also trying to locate the Empress’s whereabouts. Chu Feng Yao has long reach but is also a clear-headed person. I need to give her a warning—behave yourself in your sea kingdom and don’t meddle in so many affairs.”

Qi Fan nodded, looking around in surprise: “Where’s Gang Leader Su?”

“He left earlier,” Qin Chang Ge said. “He has something on his mind.”

“Oh?”

But Qin Chang Ge had already changed the subject, asking: “Where are they staying?”

“A brothel.” Qi Fan frowned. “They really know how to think—hiding in plain sight in a building? That kind of place has many people and eyes everywhere. The madam and procurers might all be their people. Whether attacking openly or secretly, catching one or two wouldn’t be difficult, but wanting to net them all isn’t easy.”

“What’s so difficult about it?” Qin Chang Ge asked about the brothel’s layout and terrain, dismissively saying: “Come, I’ll teach you a trick and give you a free supporting actor.”

Places like “Qihua Residence” became spirited at night. Though it was a third-rate brothel, shrimp had their paths and crabs had theirs. Low-class prostitutes had their own economical clients, mostly idle riffraff or hard laborers, plus some honest neighbors who carried a few coins and wanted to experience life. The prostitutes welcomed all customers, though they’d laugh behind the backs of the last type, making remarks about how such fierce tigresses at home couldn’t control their husbands.

Tonight there were also several men with sweaty noses sneaking into the courtyard. Before the prostitutes could roll their mocking words on their tongues, they heard women crying and wailing chaotically at the front door.

Faintly, someone seemed to have been slapped, with crisp sounds amid crying and cursing, and a child’s shrill voice shouting: “My father was bewitched by a fox spirit and doesn’t want me anymore! My mother brought me to commit suicide! Who dares to stop us? Whoever stops us, we’ll drag you along to die! If I jump from a building, you’ll cushion my fall! If I slit my throat, you’ll block the blade! Stop me! Why aren’t you stopping me anymore?”

In the commotion, the voices drew nearer.

On the second floor of the courtyard, a row of small rooms had doors decorated with flowers representing the prostitutes’ names. A door painted with roses suddenly opened, and the prostitute Rose poked her head out, asking neighboring Apricot Blossom, whose room faced the courtyard entrance: “Hey, what’s happening? The noise is killing me—Young Master Xue’s sweet dreams were interrupted, and he’s quite displeased.”

Apricot Blossom’s lips moved up and down nimbly, spitting out melon seed shells as she said lazily: “Isn’t it just someone’s backyard catching fire? Tsk tsk, whose wife is so fierce? And this family’s kid is even more remarkable. Just because his father visits brothels, he keeps saying he’ll kill anyone who interferes—kill one who comes, kill a pair if two come, and drag someone down even in death. Is this catching adultery or patricide?”

Before she finished speaking, they saw a woman in pomegranate-red skirt with the hem tucked into her waist, wearing vulgar green floral pants with large red peonies. Behind her followed a dark-skinned child of five or six, dressed even more gaudily—deep purple with orange-yellow, and embroidered with a tigress smelling roses. The colors made people want to faint. The two rushed up frantically, followed by a crowd of people dressed as neighbors, pulling, coaxing, and persuading.

“Sister-in-law Liu, don’t make trouble! If you cause such a scene, how can Liu’s fourth son face people anymore?”

“Oh dear, we’ll help you drag fourth son back. When you get home, make him kneel on a washboard and balance an abacus on his head! Calm down first and wait at home, alright?”

“Liu’s fourth son ate a leopard’s heart and dared come to such a filthy place. Auntie, I’ll definitely help you teach him a lesson!”

…

The woman refused to listen, disheveled and shouting about finding that damned man. The child was even worse, grabbing anyone he saw and rushing into every room: “You stole my father? No? Then you? You? You—oh, you’re male, I was wrong. Move aside, don’t block my path—then you? Which of you is more beautiful than my mother? My father is really blind!”

Everyone in the brothel stood aside with smiles, cracking melon seeds and watching the excitement. Seeing the child’s “beautiful mother” crying desperately, having seen such scenes often, what more could happen beyond this commotion? Could they really argue with a shrew and child? Having nothing else to do, it was fine to watch for entertainment—even those brawny fighters hiding in the shadows and mysterious figures with shifty gazes carelessly moved aside.

Sister-in-law Liu cried and made noise, barging into rooms to find her husband. The neighbors trying to mediate immediately followed like a whirlwind. When she emerged without finding her husband, the neighbors also swept out like a whirlwind. Those leaving last didn’t forget to apologize to the people inside and carefully close the doors.

Every time the child rushed into a room, he loudly cursed: “Why didn’t you find someone prettier? How can you stand looking at someone so ugly? You call this a courtesan? This is a ghost!”

They swept through downstairs… then upstairs.

The spectators finally began to sense something was wrong.

The rooms they’d burst into—why was there never any sound from within? Why hadn’t even the girls emerged? The closed doors were silent as death. Where were the people inside?

Also, these people moved so fast! Even that child had swift footsteps.

Where did they seem like common folk?

Just as they hesitated, they saw a crowd surge out from the last room, dragging a fat man in their midst. The shrew held the man’s ear with one hand, crying loudly: “Damn you, you really were here whoring! Let’s go home and settle accounts!”

The child cried even louder: “That woman was so ugly—father, don’t make an ugly little brother to humiliate me…”

The surrounding neighbors continued chattering advice. Seeing there really was such a person, everyone immediately relaxed, exchanging glances and smiling casually.

Watching them sweep away again like a whirlwind, leaving behind overturned stools and chairs, people lazily went to move the furniture. Suddenly someone said: “Eh, where are Master Luo and Master Xue? The troublemakers have left—why haven’t they come out yet?”

The madam was naturally not a real madam. Only now did she sense something wrong. With a meaningful look, someone immediately rushed to kick open a room.

The prostitute lay limp on the floor while the room stood empty.

Horrified, the madam shouted: “Terrible!”

Rushing to check room by room, aside from the acupoint-struck prostitutes, where was anyone left? All the rear windows were open. Behind this courtyard was a pond—they’d thought no one could approach. The madams had considered themselves safe and hidden, not knowing the opponents had probably prepared boats early. Rushing in, they immediately struck the prostitutes’ acupoints, threw the men in the rooms out the rear windows where boats naturally waited to receive them.

These people even pretended to apologize when leaving, giving the brothel people the illusion that “someone was still inside.” How cunning.

The madam’s face turned iron-blue, legs trembling as she checked room by room. The more she saw, the more frightened she became. Finally, she said hoarsely: “Master Luo and Master Xue had such high martial arts—how were they taken without even struggling?”

But someone exclaimed in alarm: “The man who was dragged out at the end—wasn’t that Master Luo? They subdued him together, changed his clothes, and disguised him as a client to drag him away!”

Before the words ended, everyone’s faces turned ashen.

“Today’s performance was so satisfying!” Baozi held his belly, transformed into a wolf, howling triumphantly at the moon.

“Smack!” The wolf’s rear end received an unceremonious slap from a certain unscrupulous mother who never took the wolf-natured crown prince seriously.

“I said you could act, but where did you find such disgusting clothes?” Qin Chang Ge frowned at his outfit. “This color combination is so horrifying that anyone who sees it would retreat three steps. Even pigs would prefer to be slaughtered rather than look at it.”

“This was Youtiao’er’s birthday gift to me,” Baozi shook his clothing. “Bold colors, unique styling, designed to seize attention with jumping aesthetics, extremely displaying the explosive feel of our era. It shows that in this glorious age of nations paying tribute with abundant information and surging currents, when heroes emerge in multitudes, the epic is about to be sung. Two hundred years after the founding of Yuan, on the battlefield of Chihe River, the legions of Eastern Yan, Northern Wei, Central Chuan, and Southern Min are destined to be crushed under Xi Liang’s iron hooves. A century-long tragic legendary ballad of a family will be personally written by me—Xiao Rong…”

“Write your head off!” Qin Chang Ge could no longer endure. “You recite ‘Purple River’ so smoothly! You’ve infringed on Old Pig’s intellectual property—be careful of pig fans crossing over to beat you up!”

“And that Youtiao’er of yours,” Qin Chang Ge narrowed her eyes, “who is he?”

“The little eunuch who serves me,” Baozi smiled happily. “I took a liking to him. You Tao—such an ordinary, boring name. Youtiao’er—so cute and appetizing.”

Qin Chang Ge sighed at her son who was the reincarnation of the god of hunger. After a long while: “Stop with the eating. Son, come here—Mother has an important task for you.”

“Hmm?”