Song Chuyi hadn’t expected to see Song Chumi again the next day, especially not in the restaurant where she was about to meet Zhang Run—she had thought that after yesterday’s incident, Song Chumi should be at home crying and wailing right now, but although Song Chumi looked somewhat haggard and stiff, there seemed to be nothing else unusual about her.

She knew Song Chumi was rather brainless and incompetent, but sometimes brainless people had the ability to put you in dangerous situations. Glancing at the room Song Chumi had entered, Song Chuyi turned her head and instructed Qing Tao: “Be clever and go ask the innkeeper who reserved this private room and who she’s meeting with inside.”

Qing Tao was also worried this perpetually confused Fourth Miss would cause some trouble again. She nodded and went out with quick steps.

Song Chuyi followed the waiter to the private room she had originally reserved. She had barely sat down when she heard the door being knocked very lightly. She nodded at Qing Ying, who opened the door and welcomed the person in.

This was Zhou Weizhao’s establishment. She had deliberately chosen this place to prevent any trickery. Although she had already sent Ma Changjiang and the others to search according to the address in the letter beforehand, and they had indeed found Zhang Run in a villa on the outskirts of the capital.

Zhang Run knew this Sixth Miss Song was young, but when he actually saw her, he couldn’t help but be startled. She was truly too young—she looked like nothing more than a naive young maiden in her early teens. When not speaking, she resembled a jade-carved dragon maiden seated beneath the Guanyin statue; when she smiled, her two eyes curved, making people not dare to look directly at her.

Such a wonderful girl had actually managed to force the utterly depraved Han Zhi into continuous retreat? Making him suffer losses repeatedly? For a moment, Zhang Run didn’t even know how to deliver his prepared opening. He hastily averted his gaze.

Song Chuyi held the teapot and poured him a cup of tea, gesturing for him to sit. She revealed a smile that was neither fake nor overly cold, just perfectly appropriate: “Master Zhang, would you like some tea?”

Zhang Run felt momentarily dazed. It had been a long time since anyone had addressed him this way. He had already changed his name; the name on his household registration was Yang Rui’an. Changing his name and surname—from now on, he couldn’t even openly worship his own ancestors. He wondered whether his father’s eyes remained open in death when he reached the underworld.

He dared not continue this train of thought. Ever since hearing the news of Zhang Yuan’s death, he had spent night after night unable to close his eyes.

How could he dare to sleep? Every time he closed his eyes, it was his mother’s panicked cries and his sister’s desperate expression. Now, there was one more person to add to his dreams—his biological father, the father who had raised and taught him since childhood.

His closest relatives had all died indirectly at his hands, but in the end, he hadn’t even been able to save his own father. He had pathetically become the bargaining chip Han Zhi used to threaten his father and hasten his journey to the underworld.

“Sixth Miss Song, shall we make a deal?” He sat down across from Song Chuyi, cautiously turning his eyes away to avoid looking directly at her face. His head lowered, his voice hoarse: “Han Zhi has ruined me and destroyed my family. I want him to pay the price. I know you also have grievances with him.”

He instinctively felt he shouldn’t play mind games with Song Chuyi. With someone this perceptive and formidable, if he truly wanted to cooperate with her, being honest would do no harm. After a pause, he continued: “He currently has a child he’s using to threaten you. You also know him… his relationship with me. He needs a wife to serve as a front. He thinks the most suitable candidate is you.”

This point made him feel ridiculous, while once again chilling his heart at Han Zhi’s cold-bloodedness. Han Zhi had always only known about equivalent exchange or using leverage to threaten people, never understanding that the human heart was the hardest thing to suppress and buy off. Just like how his entire family had died because of Han Zhi, yet Han Zhi could still feel assured that he would willingly spend a lifetime with him, becoming a rootless, nameless secret companion.

Song Chuyi didn’t answer immediately. She glanced at Zhang Run, unsurprised to see the overwhelming hatred in his bloodshot eyes that he couldn’t conceal. Indeed, this was the manifestation of hating Han Zhi to the bone.

She thought for a moment, then suddenly raised her chin at him and asked: “He permits you to come and go freely?”

Given Han Zhi’s cautious and careful nature, he shouldn’t make such a mistake. Zhang Yuan had previously been a Bureau Director in the Ministry of Finance, then was transferred and promoted to the Yangzhou Weaving and Dyeing Bureau. He had quite a network in the capital. If Han Zhi allowed Zhang Run to move about in the capital, wasn’t he afraid someone might see and recognize him?

Zhang Run shook his head: “The watch is very tight. To come out this time, I’ve waited for over a month already.”

In other words, from the time she was at the hunting grounds, Zhang Run had already planned everything for after she agreed to meet. This person seemed clearheaded—most importantly, he was a normal person with flesh and blood.

Han Zhi couldn’t see his hatred, but Song Chuyi could.

She smiled slightly, the two bracelets on her hand making a crisp tinkling sound. She thought for a while before asking him: “If I need to contact you in the future, where should I find you?”

To reassure Song Chuyi enough to come out and meet him, Zhang Run had already revealed his current residence in the letter. However, Han Zhi’s people surely guarded this place very strictly with eyes everywhere—it definitely wasn’t a convenient place for contact.

She had already discovered that Zhang Run was indeed a good blade—this person had completely lost any desire to live and was single-mindedly focused on revenge. Zhang Yuan’s death this time had further strengthened his determination for vengeance.

But now wasn’t the time to push him out yet. If she pushed Zhang Run out now, Han Zhi would certainly face charges of harboring criminals, forgery, and document falsification, but these charges could be major or minor when it came down to it. Fan Shi and Zhou Weiqi in the Eastern Palace, plus Han Zhengqing stationed in Datong—if these people were willing, there were plenty of ways to let Han Zhi escape unscathed.

She needed to think carefully about how to maximize Zhang Run’s usefulness. Of course, Song Chuyi didn’t hide from him the price he would pay to complete his revenge plan: “Before Master Zhang answers me, you must think carefully—once you release the arrow, there’s no turning back. You may very well lose your life when the time comes.”

Zhang Run understood this point better than she did. During that period when he had rushed about like a headless fly, he had considered going to the Shuntian Prefecture, the Court of Judicial Review, or even the Imperial Guard to file a formal accusation. But ultimately, having been raised in an official family, he knew that even if he had gone at that time, Han Zhi and Han Zhengqing would only suffer minor inconveniences—nothing serious would happen to them at all.

Now that someone could maximize his usefulness, he was naturally pleased. Although one’s body, hair, and skin were received from parents and shouldn’t be damaged, his parents had already departed for the underworld because of his poor judgment in people. If he as their son couldn’t avenge them, what use was keeping this life anyway?