After they had talked about enough, Zhou Weizhao turned around the screen and entered the inner chamber. Only then did Qing Ying tiptoe forward, crouch down by Song Chuyi’s ear to tell her about Ma San’s return, and look at her somewhat uneasily. “Miss, they specifically instructed Luo Gui to have us be sure to remind you not to tell His Highness the Crown Prince that they’ve returned.”

This request was indeed strange enough to make one uneasy—Zhou Weizhao was Song Chuyi’s husband, the person who would walk hand in hand with her for life. Before this, their people had all been shared. Having been by Song Chuyi’s side for so long, she had never discovered anything that Song Chuyi absolutely had to hide from Zhou Weizhao, and Zhou Weizhao was the same way.

Song Chuyi raised her eyebrows. Ma San wasn’t someone who spoke without reason. If he said this, there must be a reason for it. She turned her head to ask Qing Ying, “Did they say where to meet?”

Qing Ying hurriedly dismissed the chaotic thoughts in her mind, and still somewhat guiltily looked around her surroundings before saying in a low voice, “East Sixth Alley.”

East Sixth Alley, not the residence near the Yellow Immortal Temple.

Ma San had also specifically instructed that they must hide this from Zhou Weizhao. Song Chuyi lowered her eyes, then the corners of her mouth curved upward. Their return from the northwest was already surprising enough. Now it seemed that besides this surprise, they had perhaps brought back an even bigger secret.

After Ma San and Ma Wangkun returned to the residence, they did nothing. Upon returning home, they couldn’t even spare time to eat or drink. Supporting themselves, they washed and then collapsed on the bed, sleeping heavily. When they were called up again, Song Chuyi had already arrived.

They hurriedly rushed to the pavilion, looking at the lake surface that had already frozen into ice. A puff of hot breath came from their mouths as they rubbed their hands and stood before Song Chuyi, happily calling out “Miss.”

In their hearts, no matter when, Song Chuyi would always be their miss—the one who had pulled them up from the muddy ground and made them live again.

Song Chuyi smiled and nodded in acknowledgment, had them sit down, and watched as Qing Ying poured hot tea. Only then did she smile and say, “You’ve worked hard along the way.”

The journey must have involved sleeping in the open without proper meals, and they must have encountered countless difficulties and dangers. Now that the northwest was in such chaos, for them to return whole and intact was truly not easy.

Ma Wangkun was honest. He scratched his head and said, “Hard work is one thing, but we’re not afraid of just hard work. What’s hard to bear is the feeling in our hearts.” As he spoke, he sighed. “All along the way, there were so many starving corpses. Datong… Datong is in terrible shape now… Tatars are everywhere. The Tatars have now attacked all the way to Jingzhou. His Lordship is also having some difficulty managing, and I don’t know how things are now.”

Song Chuyi furrowed her brows, her eyes filled with undisguised disgust.

Whether it was the Tatars or Han Zhengqing, they all made her thoroughly disgusted.

Seeing her frown, Ma San quickly said, “Miss needn’t worry too much. His Lordship has many ways. He won’t suffer losses.”

After all, Cui Shaoting was someone who had guarded Fujian. The Japanese pirates who had left countless generals helpless could still be restrained in his hands—what more the Tatars? He had already been in the northwest for a full six years or more. These six years couldn’t have been spent in vain.

Song Chuyi hummed in acknowledgment and asked them, “Why can’t His Highness the Crown Prince know that you’ve returned?”

Although he knew this residence was already secretive enough, Ma San still swept his gaze around. His hands sitting in the pavilion also clenched into fists as he said in unison, “There’s a traitor close to His Highness.”

That there was a traitor near Zhou Weizhao, Song Chuyi had already known early on. But she had deduced it based on events from her past life and the scattered clues of this life. How would Ma San know?

Ma San lowered his voice to a level that only he and the people sitting beside him could hear. “Miss, didn’t you previously send a letter to Guyuan to His Lordship, telling him that to deal with Han Zhengqing, he could start from his sons?”

Yes, sowing discord and fanning the flames—she had learned this move from Han Zhi and Shen Qingrang in her past life. She really had to thank Shen Qingrang from her past life for doing well enough to become friends with Han Zhi.

As long as someone was human, they had weaknesses. Just like Han Zhengqing—he seemed to have nothing to fear, but actually that wasn’t entirely true. Even if he himself had no weaknesses, what about his sons? Could they really watch as Han Zhengqing, for the sake of another son who didn’t even have legitimate status, ignored these sons who had grown up by his side since childhood and regarded them coldly?

Song Chuyi’s face carried a smile. “Uncle achieved results?”

“Great ones.” Ma San also broke into a smile. “His Lordship had Marquis Dingyuan handle this matter. Marquis Dingyuan was also impressive—he contacted Han Yu, who was going to Hubei to find Prince Dongping, and also persuaded Han Yu to go find Han Yang in Taiyuan.”

Ma San tried to explain things as concisely and clearly as possible. “Han Yang told Marquis Dingyuan that Han Zhengqing sent him to find Prince Gong to give Prince Gong advice on how to make the court chaotic as well. Then, with the court facing troubles both internal and external, they could fish in troubled waters.”

The external troubles needn’t be mentioned—it was drawing the Tatars into the city.

What about the internal troubles? Song Chuyi’s eyelid twitched as she looked seriously at Ma San.

“Han Yang said that Han Zhengqing has someone close to the Crown Prince.” He scratched his head. “Who this person is, Han Zhengqing didn’t say. He only told him to rest assured and to have Prince Gong also send someone to notify his own confidants, telling them they could make their move.”

Make what move? Qing Ying listened with her heart pounding, about to ask when she heard Ma San say, “They want to use poison on Her Majesty the Empress, to make something happen to Her Majesty the Empress… Han Zhengqing also said that His Majesty’s dragon body has long been strong on the outside but weak within, and cannot last much longer…”

Like Han Zhi, Han Zhengqing always spoke with absolute certainty. This of course wasn’t because they could divine or calculate, but because they truly could accomplish it.

Song Chuyi’s right eyelid twitched violently again. Her entire being tensed up, truly taut like a drawn bow. She thought of Empress Lu’s illness in the palace.

No, that perhaps wasn’t illness. That wasn’t illness.

So the stone tablet at the imperial mausoleum, and the rumors throughout the city, were to be used here…

Rumors could melt metal, and accumulated slander could destroy bones.

She didn’t understand Han Zhengqing, but she understood Han Zhi very well. Han Zhi had been personally taught by Han Zhengqing. If she put herself in his position and substituted Han Zhi for Han Zhengqing, standing in Han Zhengqing’s position, what would Han Zhi do? There was no need to even say—given Han Zhi’s nature, it would definitely be a fight to the death, and he would never leave anyone any room at all.

These few sentences from Ma San had already made her understand what Han Zhengqing wanted to do. He didn’t just want these people in the capital who had forced Madam Fan to her death to die—he wanted them to suffer fates worse than death. These two surnamed Han were both people who wouldn’t leave others any room. Once they targeted their prey, they would toy with them until they were exhausted, keeping the prey constantly on edge. Finally exhausting them—this was their signature move.