Xia Xiuyan sat leaning against a large tree, watching the woman not far away return from the water’s edge. Holding an armful of dead branches, she bustled about, and after expending considerable effort, finally managed to light a fire. The fire crackled and popped, bringing some warmth to the cold night of mid-spring.

Qiu Xinran let out a long breath, picked up a piece of firewood, and sat down beside him. The man had already removed his mask, revealing the handsome face beneath. He looked somewhat weary, his tightly pressed thin lips also devoid of color, as if enduring the discomfort brought by injury. Compared to the Marquis Dingbei after his return to the capital, Qiu Xinran discovered she was more accustomed to his current appearance—this was the Xia Xiuyan she had known seven years ago, a weak and sickly princely heir.

“Just now when I went to gather firewood, I discovered there’s a pond not far away. It looks like the one Yashu mentioned to me. Should we go down and look to see if that box is underneath?”

“Wait until daylight when Gao Yang and the others find us, then send someone down. Even if we dove into the water now, we wouldn’t be able to see clearly.”

Qiu Xinran felt his words made sense but still couldn’t help worrying: “What if Guard Gao thinks we were also buried inside?”

“The cave in front has been blocked. It won’t be easy to clear it in a short time. After daybreak, he should send people to search the mountain looking for other exits.” Xia Xiuyan glanced at her, thinking she was still worried about the Dayue people. “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to return safely tomorrow morning.”

Qiu Xinran wasn’t very afraid anymore at this point. Thinking about how just now she had almost dared to grab Xia Xiuyan’s collar and demand an explanation, she felt belatedly somewhat embarrassed. She scratched her face: “I didn’t expect the Marquis would come personally.”

Xia Xiuyan glanced at her sideways: “If I didn’t come personally, wouldn’t you curse me behind my back again?”

Qiu Xinran firmly refused to admit it: “The Marquis is joking. I’ve never thought such a thing.”

“Is that so,” the man said coolly. “Last time, I don’t know who was indirectly criticizing and showing displeasure because of Mei Que’s matter. This time if I didn’t come to rescue you, you’d be understanding about it?”

Qiu Xinran hadn’t expected he still remembered the unpleasant parting at Fangchi Garden last time. She couldn’t help finding it amusing in her heart, but considering he had rescued her today, she coaxed him appeasingly: “How could the Marquis be such a person in my heart? Even last time, I was merely worried that Mei Que, being alone, would find it difficult to protect herself, and hoped the Marquis could look after her more.”

Honeyed words and flattery! Xia Xiuyan inwardly snorted, determined not to fall for her tricks, yet his expression unconsciously softened. Observing his expression, Qiu Xinran seized the opportunity to ask: “However, since the Marquis has taken her in, do you have other plans for the next step?”

Xia Xiuyan glanced at her sideways and suddenly asked: “You said before that the Ninth Princess gave you a white jade ring?”

Qiu Xinran didn’t know why he suddenly brought this up but still nodded. Xia Xiuyan asked again: “What did that ring look like?”

“Nothing particularly special,” Qiu Xinran tried hard to recall. “The surface was carved with an orchid plant, and there were traces of wear on the inside.”

Xia Xiuyan pondered for a while and didn’t speak for a long time. After quite some time, he asked: “Do you still have that ring?”

Qiu Xinran nodded, then suddenly seemed to realize something and looked up at him sharply: “You want to…”

“Do you still remember what I said to you that night at Qinglong Temple?”

“You told me not to tell anyone about the ring, and not to think about using it to make an issue. Qiu Xinran murmured. “You said it wasn’t the right time yet.”

“Now is the right time.” The man said indifferently, yet beneath his exceptionally calm tone seemed to carry a trace of cold, decisive ruthlessness. “I said someone must seek justice for us. Will you join me?”

His casual invitation sounded as if he were asking her whether she wanted to come to the residence for a simple meal in the afternoon, so much so that for a moment Qiu Xinran could only stare at him blankly and ask: “What do you mean?”

“To topple Wu Guangda, I must eliminate the power of Consort Shu behind him.” Xia Xiuyan glanced at her sideways. “You want to comfort the Ninth Princess’s spirit in heaven? Then you must expose Li Hantai’s true face before His Majesty.”

“You said before that I was hiding behind those false mazes I deliberately set up, biding my time and waiting to play my final killing move.” Xia Xiuyan shook his head self-deprecatingly. “But from beginning to end, the person I wanted to hide behind the maze was actually you.” He looked up at her, speaking each word clearly: “You are the blade I’ve kept for last, the one that strikes true with a single blow.”

Qiu Xinran’s eyes widened as she looked at him: “You…”

Xia Xiuyan asked her with certainty: “Do you want to join me?”

Qiu Xinran stared blankly, thinking that not long ago she had been wondering how to persuade Mei Que to give up revenge. Now someone was asking her: Do you want to become the blade that pierces into your enemy’s heart at the very end?

Do I want to? She asked herself this question. Buddhism teaches the cycle of cause and effect; Daoism speaks of karmic retribution for good and evil. In this moment, she discovered she truly was a fake Daoist, because when Xia Xiuyan asked her this, she immediately wanted to nod. She wanted to!

She thought of the tablet without characters at Qinglong Temple, thought of that box of rouge that had never been opened by anyone, thought of the tearful accusation before the Guanyin Hall… That was an unwillingness that even reciting the Rebirth Sutra a hundred times could not calm.

“But I… can I?” Qiu Xinran murmured. Daoism teaches following the natural way. From the day she began learning divination, her master had constantly admonished her that each person has their own fate. Those who divine hexagrams merely clear away the fog for others—they cannot make decisions arbitrarily or insist on defying heaven’s will.

“That day you said the emperor’s wrath results in millions of corpses and rivers of blood for thousands of miles, while an ant’s rage can only be like a moth flying into flame, harming only itself.” As if seeing through her confusion, Xia Xiuyan suddenly blinked and smiled. “Even if you truly are a moth, I can let you burn down all of Chang’an with a single fire.”

These words were far too incendiary. Qiu Xinran thought that seven years ago on the back mountain of Qinglong Temple, she had received a promise from Xia Xiuyan. Seven years later, she had received another.

In the forest at night, insects chirped. The man sat under the tree, using a branch to stir the nearly extinguished fire. With a glance, he saw the little Daoist beside him sitting cross-legged under the tree. Her neck seemed to be supporting a head weighing a thousand pounds, gradually drooping bit by bit until it touched bottom, then suddenly jerking upright again. Drowsily opening her eyes, she forced herself to yawn. Before long, her eyelids stuck together again.

This ability to fall asleep anywhere was truly enviable. The moon hung in mid-sky. There were still several hours until daybreak. The wound on his back ached faintly. He had broken out in a thin layer of perspiration, and when the night wind blew, it brought some chill, tormenting him until he had no drowsiness at all. Looking again at the woman who had completely given up struggling against her instincts, her head tilted as she leaned against the tree trunk in deep sleep, Xia Xiuyan narrowed his eyes, feeling somewhat disgruntled.

He shifted his position, moved closer to the person beside him, and reached out to poke her. Seeing her open her eyes drowsily, looking completely out of it and gazing at him in confusion.

“Shouldn’t one of us keep watch?” The man adopted an entirely serious tone.

Qiu Xinran’s mind wasn’t very clear yet. She rubbed her eyes and after quite a while finally reacted a beat late: “Oh.” She responded dryly, then her gaze fell upon him. She looked extremely easy to bully like this, completely lacking the clever, ingratiating energy she had during the day. Xia Xiuyan found it amusing in his heart. He cleared his throat and was about to say something when he suddenly saw her lean toward him, then place one hand on his face.

Xia Xiuyan’s whole body stiffened, stunned by her sudden action. He actually remained motionless and let her touch his face once, then place her hand on his forehead: “Do you have a high fever?” The woman murmured to herself, not knowing if she was asking him.

Qiu Xinran raised her other hand and placed it on her own forehead. After comparing for quite some time, she seriously reached a conclusion: “You have a fever.”

Xia Xiuyan himself hadn’t realized he had a fever. Hearing her say this, he only then noticed that his body was indeed alternating between hot and cold. It should be from drinking alcohol combined with inflammation from the wound. At this moment, his limbs were sore and weak, lacking strength. At first, he had thought it was because of the intoxicating drug in the cave. It had been too long since he’d been sick—he had almost forgotten what being ill felt like.

Qiu Xinran seemed to have become somewhat more awake. She rubbed her face and, supporting herself against the tree trunk behind her, stood up with considerable difficulty. Xia Xiuyan sat in place looking up at her: “What are you doing?” She seemed somewhat dazed and didn’t seem to hear him as she walked toward the woods. When she returned from the woods after a while, water droplets clung to her face, as if she had gone to wash her face at the pond’s edge. Her gaze was completely clear now, and she held an additional wet handkerchief in her hand.

Qiu Xinran walked back under the large tree where they had been. Xia Xiuyan looked at the handkerchief in her hand. He seemed very unaccustomed to being cared for, his gaze rather complex. But she very naturally handed him the handkerchief. Seeing his gaze, she seemed to have misunderstood his meaning. After thinking about it, she added: “It’s clean. I always carry it with me.”

The man stared at that white silk handkerchief for quite a while before finally reaching out to take it, obediently placing it on his forehead. Qiu Xinran seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, showing a happy smile. She sat down cross-legged, this time taking the initiative to sit beside him: “Marquis, sleep for a while. I’ll keep watch.”

At first, Xia Xiuyan had woken her deliberately to cause trouble. Now seeing her voluntarily offer to keep watch, his heart felt awkward again, so he said indifferently: “There’s no real danger now. It’s fine if you sleep for a while. In any case, I can’t sleep. It’s not impossible for me to watch over you for a bit.” As if completely forgetting who had just suggested keeping watch.

Qiu Xinran yawned. Not only did she fail to grasp the meaning in his words, she even caught the wrong point: “You can’t sleep?” She frowned and pondered for a while. “Then shall I recite a sutra for you?”

“…”

He’d heard of people singing songs or telling stories to lull others to sleep, but this was the first time he’d heard of reciting sutras before bed. Qiu Xinran noticed his expression and earnestly assured him: “Really, in the past when I couldn’t sleep, I would recite a sutra in my mind and immediately fall asleep.”

Xia Xiuyan made no sound. Qiu Xinran took this as tacit agreement with her proposal, so she sat up straight and cleared her throat: “I’ll recite the Scripture of Great Peace for you.” She muttered quietly, “This one is the most boring. You’ll definitely fall asleep listening to it.”

Xia Xiuyan silently curved the corners of his mouth, then heard her recite: “The Supreme Golden Tower, Imperial Morning, Latter Saint Emperor, Lord Teacher Assistant, Calendar Chronicle Year Sequence, Level Energy Coming and Going, Omens and Signs, Virtuous Sages, Meritorious Deeds Cultivating the People, Establishing Law and Origin…” On this spring night, the woman’s voice was clear and pleasant, rising and falling rhythmically. Combined with the insect sounds among the grass and trees, it actually had a somewhat melodious cadence.

When she was young studying the arts in the mountains, her master would recite one line and she would follow along reciting one line below, bobbing her head, completely unaware of what she was chanting. Back then, she had thought this scripture was truly so long—she probably could never memorize it all in her lifetime, much less understand the profound meanings within. But now, she could recite countless sutras, yet the profound meanings within them still remained incomprehensible.

“Not fully understanding is nothing to worry about,” Daoist Baoyu had once told her, stroking her head. “Those are paths the ancient sages walked. You must walk your own path.” “Then why do I spend all day reciting these?” At that time, Qiu Xinran had looked up at her master, asking in confusion. Daoist Baoyu smiled gently: “Perhaps one day they will have their use.”

“…In the forty-third year of King Ping’s reign, the year of Guichou in the sexagenary cycle, on the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth month, he expounded the five thousand words for Prefect Yin Xi.” Qiu Xinran finished reciting the last line and slowly opened her eyes, turning her head to look at the man sitting beside her. She saw his arms crossed over his chest, his head tilted against the tree, eyes tightly closed, eyelashes trembling lightly, breathing calm and steady. At some point, he had fallen into deep sleep.