Li Du Mansion was already under martial law.

The city that had been filled with singing and dancing just the day before seemed swept by an evil wind, turning empty and desolate in an instant, leaving only the flower lanterns that couldn’t be removed in time swaying in the bleak wind.

No one dared to wander the streets carelessly, fearing they might run into searching Qi soldiers and be labeled as rebels, then dragged away for interrogation.

The pleasure boats had been withdrawn and returned. Qi soldiers searched the vessels inside and out, finding only the corpse of a dancing girl. The dancer had died from a throat-slashing sword wound, and the body clutched a sword tassel in its hand, seemingly torn off unintentionally from the killer’s sword. Gusha always felt that sword tassel looked familiar, but couldn’t remember whose it was for the moment.

Upon further investigation into the dancer’s identity, they learned this person should have been a songstress from Huachao Pavilion, but was wearing a layer of human skin mask. Guilai Hall said this was their planted agent on the ship.

The killer must certainly be someone from Bingzhu Division’s faction, but there were no immediate clues about the sword tassel’s owner, making it an unsolved case.

As for Xie Zhu, he had long vanished without a trace, and that Prince Ling’an who had stirred up the storm throughout the city was nowhere to be seen even in shadow.

That same night, another important figure died—Li Du Mansion’s Prefect Huang Yankun, assassinated in his own carriage.

The coachman committed suicide during interrogation. The killer was unknown, leaving not a single useful clue.

When investigating further, it was said that a soldier carrying the prefect’s token had entered the gate mechanism room, but at the time everyone was focused tensely on the commotion on the river, and no one paid attention to that soldier’s appearance, so the clues were severed again.

The city was also missing one person—Xie Queshan.

Xie Queshan was supposed to be on the pleasure boat at Sifang Bridge, but had boarded early at Yonggui Bridge ferry instead, then disappeared from the pleasure boat with no trace to be found.

Things became increasingly mysterious and confusing, leaving everyone in Li Du Mansion in a state of panic.

Gusha had lost both his wife and his soldiers. Afterward, he was like a mad dog, lashing out everywhere. Anyone who encountered his fury would lose a layer of skin.

Most infuriating was that he had invested heavily with Zhang Yuehui, only to have his efforts come to nothing, yet that cunning merchant had made it crystal clear beforehand that this information might not be true. Gusha had also promised confidently that whether true or false, it had nothing to do with him.

This rage had nowhere to be vented.

But the seemingly only winner, Zhang Yuehui, wasn’t as happy as one might imagine.

Huachao Pavilion was particularly quiet today. Without the supporting customers, only the occasional servants sweeping and cleaning moved about.

The sporadic sounds of qin music revealed a distracted state of mind.

After carelessly plucking a few notes, Zhang Yuehui stopped with little interest. He rarely immersed himself in this kind of contemplative expression, yet at this moment he was doing exactly that.

Luo Ci stood guard nearby, even more confused.

“Master, since you suspected Bingzhu Division’s plan was fraudulent from the beginning, why did you still let things develop…”

“Tell me, between Xie Zhu and Prince Ling’an, who is worth more?”

“Naturally Prince Ling’an.”

“I’m a merchant. I want to conduct the most valuable business. Suspicion is suspicion, but before having definite information, everything is possible. What I sold was the possibility that Prince Ling’an would board the ship. If we ourselves had verified that possibility as zero, wouldn’t that be cutting off our own financial path?”

Luo Ci didn’t understand. Since the master had calculated everything, what was there that he couldn’t figure out? Could it be because of losing the great general Chang Yan?

Chang Yan’s identity had already been discovered by Bingzhu Division, so she had no way out long ago. The master doing this was also to maximize benefits.

Zhang Yuehui sighed and said: “The opponent calculated correctly that even if I had suspicions, I wouldn’t stop it, because I’m a profit-seeking person… I was also part of his plan, even a key to his plan’s success.”

Only then did Luo Ci feel a chill down his spine—usually only the master calculated others, no one could calculate against the master.

Just what kind of person was the opponent?

Zhang Yuehui closed his eyes, his brow slightly furrowed: “The strangest thing is, why would Xie Queshan disappear? The plan had already succeeded, he had no reason to bring trouble upon himself at this time.”

“Oh right, Master, that Xie family widow you had us watch—yesterday she suddenly fell seriously ill and was moved to an estate outside.”

Zhang Yuehui gave a mocking laugh: “Looks like this person is no longer in Li Du Mansion either.”

“What exactly are they up to?” Luo Ci also felt increasingly confused.

After a long silence, Zhang Yuehui still had no leads. Xie Queshan and that Qin woman disappearing together was something others might not notice, but it was very strange indeed.

Just what was the background of this little widow, how could she be connected to everyone? Yet she couldn’t be killed several times over, truly troublesome.

“Keep an eye on Xie Six for now.” Zhang Yuehui rubbed away the worry between his brows and said slowly.

In Wangxue Manor, it had once again become territory under Qi rule, with Qi guards everywhere around, even more impenetrable than before.

Xie Sui’an sat peacefully in front of her vanity, looking at the young woman in the mirror, with long black hair flowing over her shoulders, her face without powder or rouge. She had completed everything she needed to do.

Sending away Third Uncle’s family and sister-in-law, killing the traitor Huang Yankun, helping Song Muchuan stabilize the situation in Li Du Mansion—next, she had only one most important thing left.

Xie Sui’an picked up the scissors at hand and quietly, resolutely cut her long hair short, inch by inch.

The news of Pang Yu’s death had already been delivered to Wangxue Manor by an urgent military report, and everyone knew. Her sorrow finally became justified and proper.

When Madam Gantang and Lu Jinxiu had just entered the courtyard, preparing to console Xie Sui’an, they saw the door of that boudoir slowly open, and Xie Sui’an walked out holding a memorial tablet.

Her now-shortened hair was simply pinned up behind her head. She wore plain white robes with a white flower pinned at her temple.

Lu Jinxiu was so shocked her legs went weak. She realized what was happening and sternly demanded: “Little Six! What are you doing?!”

Xie Sui’an firmly held Pang Yu’s memorial tablet and said: “My late husband has passed away. I wish to enter the Buddhist gate and spend my life accompanied by green lamps.”

“Are you insane?! I didn’t raise you this big just to watch you ruin your own future! You unfilial daughter! Let go—you weren’t even married, it doesn’t count!” Lu Jinxiu frantically tried to pull and tug at Xie Sui’an. She instantly lost her composure, pouncing like a shrew trying to snatch the tablet from her hands, but she stood motionless as a mountain, unmovable by others even slightly.

Madam Gantang, however, gazed at her younger sister. Everyone in the Xie family had their own rebellious streak and had to hit the wall themselves before they would listen.

“Is it worth it?” she asked.

“It’s worth it,” she answered.

Madam Gantang sighed and said: “If you’ve thought it through, then go ahead and do it.”

So under everyone’s gaze, Xie Sui’an entered the Buddhist hall in the back mountain. That was Xie Jun’s place of house arrest. Once she entered, she could never come out again.

But Madam Gantang knew she was using this resolute method to take over Pang Yu’s burden and protect that new master of the realm.

That brilliant flower belonging to Xie Sui’an was buried outside the vermillion door of the Buddhist hall before it could even bloom.

This also cut off those who tried to gain some clues from Xie Sui’an.

Xu Zhou looked at the young woman kneeling before the Buddha statue. All the brilliant colors she had when they first met had faded away, leaving only a dazzling white, like sunlight from the distant horizon.

“Your Highness, from now on I will protect you, until you successfully ascend the throne, until I die.” Facing the Buddha statue, she spoke word by word, as firm as making a vow.

Xu Zhou felt it was a pity: “Miss Xie Six, why be so impulsive?”

“Your Highness, I’m not acting impulsively,” Xie Sui’an smiled palely, “After coming out of the Buddhist hall last time, my loss of composure nearly exposed Your Highness’s hiding place. I realized my temperament isn’t suited for being a spy in complex environments. I might as well hide in the darkness and become a blade to protect Your Highness.”

“You could also distance yourself from all this and live the life of an ordinary woman. The Xie family would protect you for life.”

“But who else is there now to protect Your Highness?”

Xu Zhou was lost in thought for a long time. He looked up at the gods and Buddhas, but the gods and Buddhas remained silent.

——

When Nanyi woke up again, she felt in a trance as if she had returned to the starting point.

That snow-covered Tiger Kneel Mountain was where she had first begun her escape, and at this moment when she opened her eyes, it was still a desolate mountain path.

Her hands were tied behind her back, and her whole body was laid horizontally across a horse’s back, head down, only able to see the horse’s hooves and the path below.

This was a wild horse with rough coat, and its hooves had no horseshoes. The horse carried her toward some unknown destination. She tried to move but couldn’t turn over.

But she could feel that someone behind her was blocking the wind—there was another person on the horse’s back.

Was it him? He hadn’t killed her?

The horse’s hooves soon stopped in front of an abandoned hunting lodge.

Xie Queshan dismounted and walked to her front. Her view was upside down, so she could only see the bloodstains on his sleeves and his slow movements.

This indicated that the struggle on the ship had been real—she had injured him. After their masks were torn away, there should have been no room left between them. But he hadn’t killed her immediately. What was he bringing her here for?

She strained her neck to lift her head with difficulty, looking at him with full vigilance and hostility. They had both drawn blades against each other, so there was no need to pretend anymore. Playing pitiful, playing dumb, begging for mercy—none of it would work. They were naked enemies.

Only when facing him, what she feared most was never being able to guess what he wanted to do, like staring into a waveless abyss.

Without a word, he pulled her down from the horse and dragged her into the hunting lodge without explanation.

Tiger Kneel Mountain had many such hunting lodges where hunters temporarily rested. At this time of year, the weather in the mountains was harsh with few prey, so the hunting lodges were naturally abandoned and rarely visited.

To prevent wild beasts from crawling through the windows at night, the room’s only window had iron bars nailed across it.

Like a cage.

Before Nanyi could hesitate, Xie Queshan roughly pushed her toward the window. He was severely injured, his chest robes soaked through with blood, creating a shocking sight.

When a person is under extreme pain, they become a wild beast. He had lost patience with Nanyi, and every movement was merciless. He loosened a section of rope slightly to tie her to the bars, but she wasn’t one to be manipulated willingly. Feeling the restraints on her hands loosen, she immediately began to struggle.

His strength was still overwhelming. He immediately pressed against her movements with his body, one large hand firmly gripping both her wrists. From the corner of his eye, he saw her still instinctively protecting the jade bracelet on her right hand, and his eyes darkened.

This wasn’t Wangxue Manor where everyone maintained their dignity—any tiny emotion could be infinitely magnified and released at any time. He domineeringly lifted her arms above her head and, as if demonstrating, slammed her wrists against the iron bars.

The jade bracelet struck the iron bars with a clear, crisp “ding.”

The iron bars trembled, the lingering sound buzzing, reaching deep into her mind. Nanyi seemed frozen in an instant. Then the rope wound around, firmly binding her hands to the bars.

This was his silent warning. At this moment she was fish on the chopping block, at the mercy of others. She couldn’t even protect her own life, let alone this small jade bracelet.

“Xie Queshan—what exactly do you want to do? Why don’t you kill me!”

She roared at him in despair.

He shuddered.

This face he had looked at countless times now had a strange expression floating on it. For the first time, she called him by his full name directly, showing him fangs like a wild beast. This was her truest face, and he couldn’t deny that she was a small but powerful person.

What made his heart and spirit tremble had always been this side of her.

He actually felt a subtle desire to conquer rise within him. Watching her hands still struggling, unwilling to give up trying to break free from the ropes, he forcibly pried open her palm, his five fingers sliding between hers, insisting on interlocking their fingers, leaving her nowhere to escape.

Imprisonment and entanglement were two sides of the same coin.

He gasped, every movement pulling at his torn wounds—hurting the enemy a thousand while damaging himself eight hundred—but he didn’t move, his gaze unrestrained as he took in every subtle expression on her face.

Nanyi suddenly felt uneasy. He seemed to be slowly releasing a monster, one that had nearly broken through the ice in several past moments. She had never seen what it was, but she knew the feeling when it descended.

They were too close, close like two beasts entangled together, having abandoned humanity and dignity, leaving only claws and wounds.

Even they didn’t know whether the next second would bring killing or embracing.