At noon, a sudden commotion erupted along the riverbank.
Xia Xiuyan sat by the window and was the first to notice the disturbance at the riverside. In the distance, crowds of people surged and pressed together—those outside trying to push toward the shore while those at the water’s edge attempted to escape inland. The voices grew louder as they approached, until finally even the guests seated in the Drunken Spring Tower could hear the commotion.
At the elegant banquet, a scholar had been reciting poetry, but halfway through his verse, no one in the room was listening anymore. Li Hanfeng also looked out the window, recalling the divination Qiu Xinran had performed for the Ministry of Rites earlier, and an ominous premonition rose in his heart. Sure enough, before long, cries of people falling into the water came from the shore—
First one person fell into the river, then as the crowd surged, people began falling in succession—some pushed in by the crush of bodies, others forced to jump in themselves. After a while, horrified shouts of “Murder!” rang out. The area around Qujiang Pavilion instantly descended into chaos, the wooden bridge creaking ominously. Those watching from a distance felt their hearts leap with fear—if the bridge collapsed, the consequences would be unthinkable. Men’s angry curses and the wails of women and children carried from afar.
Li Hanfeng rose from his seat and immediately ordered the guards at his side to investigate the situation at the river. Sun Jue also hastily dispatched people downstairs to gather information, while offering reassurance: “No need to worry. To prevent incidents, the Jingzhao Prefecture stationed many extra hands along the river today. They should be able to restore order soon.”
His words were truthful. Though the Qujiang banquet had been postponed, the local patrols had indeed increased their forces, intending to guard against any mishaps—never expecting such an incident would actually occur. The Prefect of Jingzhao would likely submit a memorial of apology even before the censors could impeach him.
Before long, imperial guards patrolling both banks arrived. Those who could swim dove into the river to rescue people, while the rest dispersed the crowds on shore. After some time, the riverside chaos gradually subsided. But Xia Xiuyan noticed that the Jingzhao Prefecture’s men had not withdrawn—they still stood guard near Qujiang Pavilion, and a vague sense of unease stirred in his heart.
Soon the guard sent to investigate returned to the wine house and reported a situation similar to what they’d observed from the second floor. Before anyone could breathe a sigh of relief, the guard leaned close to whisper in Li Hanfeng’s ear. Everyone watched his expression change dramatically, his face turning ashen as he stood up. He raised his cup to the assembled guests, his features showing regret: “A matter has arisen at my residence requiring my immediate departure. I cannot stay longer today—I hope you will all understand.” Though the others didn’t know what had happened, seeing his reaction, they returned his courtesy and made no attempt to detain him.
Xia Xiuyan followed him out of the Drunken Spring Tower, where servants had already prepared a carriage waiting outside. Li Hanfeng planned to send him back to the Princess’s residence first, but unexpectedly, the other man stood solemnly beside the carriage and asked: “What happened at the river?”
Li Hanfeng hesitated briefly before leaning close to whisper: “Minister Wei was attacked.”
“Commander Wei Yi of the Yulin Guards?”
“Yes, him.”
“What happened?”
Li Hanfeng shook his head. “I heard that Minister Wei and others had chartered a boat for a lake excursion today when they were suddenly attacked by assassins. The specific details are unknown.” He paused slightly, then leaned closer to speak in a low voice to Xia Xiuyan: “But a few days ago, news came from Qiongzhou that Zhang Yong’s youngest son Zhang Rong escaped en route. The officials responsible for the escort were afraid to report it and delayed, so the news only just reached the capital. Few people know about it yet.”
Xia Xiuyan’s expression grew grave. “You suspect the assassin is him?”
“The secret correspondence between Zhang Yong and the Dieyue people was discovered by men Wei Yi sent. After Zhang Yong’s death, Wei Yi naturally succeeded him as Commander of the Yulin Guards. Who do you think Zhang Rong would most want to kill upon his return?”
Xia Xiuyan remained silent. Li Hanfeng glanced at him and continued: “This matter concerns you as well. If Zhang Rong isn’t captured today, there will be endless trouble ahead.”
The son of a criminal fugitive, a court official attacked, commoners falling into the water on the Shangsi Festival along the riverbank—and all this might still be entangled with the old case of collusion with the Dieyue people… Each matter was enough to give the court a headache.
After a moment of silence, Xia Xiuyan suddenly said: “I’m going to the riverside to take a look.”
Li Hanfeng was greatly alarmed. “Now is not the time for sightseeing!”
Xia Xiuyan replied calmly: “I know what I’m doing. I won’t feel at ease unless I go see for myself.”
Seeing that his expression didn’t suggest he was joking, Li Hanfeng looked at him uneasily for a moment before finally saying: “Xiuyan, are you angry with me?”
Xia Xiuyan paused slightly but didn’t respond immediately. Li Hanfeng sighed inwardly and apologized: “I was wrong this time.”
“You were too hasty,” Xia Xiuyan said slowly after a moment of silence. “His Majesty is extremely suspicious. Your private interactions with the examination candidates will likely displease him.”
Li Hanfeng’s expression darkened, but he then smiled bitterly. “I’ve considered these things. You must also be careful in all matters.”
Xia Xiuyan nodded. After watching Li Hanfeng’s carriage depart, he called Gao Yang aside and instructed him to go to the riverside first to investigate the situation—he would follow shortly after. Since he’d come out during the day, other guards were also discreetly following him. Gao Yang nodded and immediately left to carry out his orders.
After he departed, Xia Xiuyan also turned toward the riverside.
Having just experienced the incident of people falling into the water, the crowds that had packed the riverbank had dispersed considerably. Xia Xiuyan walked along the shore, passing scattered vendors—tea stalls, pancake stands, and the like—all originally hoping to do extra business during the Shangsi Festival. After this disturbance, many hung their heads dejectedly, preparing to pack up.
Official soldiers stood strict guard near Qujiang Pavilion, allowing no one to approach. Xia Xiuyan walked to the vicinity but went no further. Along the way, he heard passersby discussing what had just happened. He leaned briefly against a riverside willow, gazing at the shimmering waters of Qujiang, then turned to head back.
“Would the young master like a divination reading?”
After just a few steps, he suddenly heard an inquiry from nearby. The voice sounded somewhat familiar, carrying a subtle teasing tone that made him involuntarily pause.
Xia Xiuyan turned his head and finally noticed a crude fortune-telling stall set up nearby. Looking at the fortune-teller seated behind it: she wore a pale yellow long dress with a bright yellow flower ornament in her hair. Her face was covered with a thin veil hiding half her features, revealing only a pair of peach-blossom eyes curved in a smile—at first glance, she appeared to be a graceful young maiden in her bloom.
Xia Xiuyan slowly walked over to her. “How do you read fortunes?” A small stool sat before the stall; he casually lifted his robe hem and sat down.
“What would the customer like to divine? Perhaps test your fortune and misfortune?” Qiu Xinran licked her lips. Behind her veil, she wondered whether he’d recognized her.
Xia Xiuyan glanced at her. “I didn’t bring any silver.”
“Oh.” Even through the veil, disappointment showed in her eyes and brows. “What unfortunate timing.”
Xia Xiuyan looked at her with apparent amusement, then removed a jade pendant from his waist and placed it on her divination table. “Will this serve as temporary payment?”
The jade pendant was translucent, carved with a small phoenix so lifelike it was clearly valuable. Qiu Xinran stared wide-eyed, uncertain: “You truly intend to use this as payment?”
Xia Xiuyan ignored this question, merely tapping the table with a finger. “Tell me what happened at the river just now.”
Afraid he might change his mind, Qiu Xinran tucked the jade pendant into her sleeve, her eyes and brows curving with delight. “Then you’ve asked exactly the right person!”
She recalled carefully: “Just now, a pleasure boat from one of the music houses passed along the river, with female entertainers playing instruments on board. People crowded forward to watch, and soon someone fell into the water. Before anyone fell in, someone in the crowd shouted ‘Thief!’ Everyone panicked, checking their money pouches and stepping away from those pressed close beside them. Shortly after, arguments broke out in the crowd—nothing more than petty shoving and jostling. Just then, the pleasure boat approached the shore, but we heard cries of people falling into the water. Not long after, women’s screams and the sound of weapons being drawn came from the boat—there must have been an assassin. Fortunately, the imperial guards arrived quickly and soon quelled the disturbance. After the crowds dispersed, I saw someone being helped off the pleasure boat into a carriage. Based on the markings on the carriage, it should belong to some high official in the capital—perhaps someone was injured.”
Her deductions were fairly close to the truth. Xia Xiuyan glanced at her. “Where were you at the time?”
Qiu Xinran smiled. “Sitting right here. I didn’t move an inch.”
Xia Xiuyan studied her for a moment, then rose to leave. Suddenly he heard her call out again: “The young master’s payment was generous—I can give you one more piece of information.” Qiu Xinran licked her lips, revealing a trace of imperceptible nervousness. “Just now, though several who fell into the water were pulled out, the spring flood’s current is swift—inevitably a few were swept downstream. Along the river, there’s a dilapidated Temple of the God of Wealth with three willow trees planted before it. If the young master shows some kindness, you might reach the person you’re looking for before the searching soldiers do.”
Xia Xiuyan found her words interesting. “Whom am I looking for?”
“Though I don’t know who the young master seeks, I’ve calculated that this person will certainly be useful to you.”
Xia Xiuyan was silent for a while, seeming to weigh the meaning of her words. Qiu Xinran didn’t press him. After some time, the man before her stood up and walked away without a word.
The veiled young woman at the stall watched his figure disappear into the crowd before finally relaxing her shoulders with a sigh of relief, uncertain whether he’d believed what she’d said. There was movement at her feet. Qiu Xinran discreetly lifted a corner of the tablecloth covering the table, allowing the person underneath to get some air.
Hidden beneath the divination stall was a young man in black, his features haggard and bearing serious injuries. When he’d been chased to Qiu Xinran’s stall, she’d nearly failed to recognize him. When Zhang Rong reached her location wounded, he’d been nearly desperate—especially seeing it was just a fortune-teller’s stall, his heart filled with desolation, feeling even Heaven itself was telling him to accept his fate. A flash of ruthlessness crossed his mind—if forced to it, he’d planned to take this fortune-teller hostage to buy himself time.
When the two collided, a flicker of surprise showed in her eyes. Just as he grabbed her neck, she seized his wrist and pushed him under the table: “Get in, don’t make a sound!”
Zhang Rong hadn’t expected this reaction. Seriously wounded, he actually stumbled as she pushed him under the table. He’d barely concealed himself when he heard approaching footsteps nearby.
The common people had all run to the riverside to watch the excitement—few remained on this path. Hiding under the table, one hand pressed against the sword at his waist, he heard the young woman casually lie and misdirect the pursuers in another direction, actually not betraying him at all. Once the footsteps faded and he was certain only the two of them remained, he collapsed beneath the table, breathing heavily.
“Why is Young Master Zhang here?” After the pursuers left, Qiu Xinran quietly lifted the cloth to glance at him, asking with a frown. Having just received her help, the young man showed no gratitude whatsoever, still gripping his sword and watching her guardedly: “You recognize me? Who are you?”
“I knew Minister Zhang.” Qiu Xinran kept herself guarded, ultimately not telling him who she was, only vaguely urging: “Alright, you should leave quickly now. If you’re caught again, it’ll be your own life at stake.”
“Wait!” The black-clad youth grabbed her hand. He was clearly desperate. After a moment’s hesitation, gritting his teeth, he suddenly pleaded: “Since you’re willing to help me for my father’s sake, could you help me once more?”
Qiu Xinran was amused by his presumptuous request. “Young Master Zhang misunderstands. I had no relationship with your late father. Had you not tried to take me hostage just now, I wouldn’t have helped you. That I’m not turning you in is already the utmost benevolence. If you have other matters, you’d better find your own way to escape first.”
Hearing this, the light in Zhang Rong’s eyes gradually dimmed. Thinking of the hardships he’d endured fleeing back to the capital and the people still waiting for him, he shifted and knelt beneath the table, pressing his forehead to her foot: “If you’ll help me, I’ll repay this debt with my life, even if I must hold grass in my mouth or weave rings in my next life.”
Qiu Xinran was startled by this display. Earlier, when he’d rushed at her with murderous intent, knife to her throat, she hadn’t been so flustered. But now, seeing him kneeling at her feet, she thought of the youth she’d bumped into in the palace—the one who’d scrambled up without even an apology.
That day, when he’d first gotten up, he’d probably thought to help her, but upon seeing her clothing and appearance clearly, he’d withdrawn his half-extended hand, showing a trace of disdain in his eyes before turning and walking away with a cold snort. Qiu Xinran had gotten up on her own and dusted herself off. Though she’d gained an official position through the art of hexagrams, her reputation outside wasn’t particularly good—but those who showed her such open contempt like Li Hanyi were still relatively few. She’d thought at the time: This young man has an upright character—I wonder which family’s son he is.
But now, that youth who’d looked down on everyone knelt on the ground covered in blood, that bamboo-segmented spine finally bending into a bridge. His forehead pressed against her foot, trembling slightly. The person behind the divination stall remained silent for a long time. Zhang Rong’s heart was drowning in despair when he suddenly heard her sigh: “What do you want me to help you with?”