When a person finds their roots, it’s like growing a vital breath from within their body. As long as this breath exists, Yan Sanhe felt she had inexhaustible energy.

She didn’t even need to sleep.

She pressed against Li Buyan’s body, her hand scratching at her waist.

“Buyan, keep me company and talk.”

“My young lady…”

Li Buyan forced herself to muster some energy.

“We’ve been working hard from morning till night, and it’s already the middle of the night. In another two hours it’ll be dawn. Can we talk tomorrow?”

But I have so many, many things in my heart.

I’m a person of the Zheng family.

The Zheng family was massacred in the eighth year of Yonghe;

Only I survived;

How did I survive?

One question after another flashed through her mind with increasing clarity. Yan Sanhe gave a start and sat up.

Li Buyan grabbed her and sat up as well.

“Yan Sanhe.”

Her voice betrayed her fatigue. “Whether we talk or not, I’ll stay with you. But you can’t be anxious. You must calm down.”

“I can’t calm down.”

As soon as Yan Sanhe thought about being from the Zheng family, she felt all the blood in her body burning.

“You sleep first. I’ll go sit in the study for a while.”

Li Buyan stared at her fixedly, then compromised. “Then don’t sit too long. Come back early.”

“Alright.”

Yan Sanhe stood up, stood dazed for a moment, then sat back down on the bed.

“Buyan, I want to stay—stay right here in the capital and unravel these mysteries one by one.”

“Then let’s buy this residence.”

Li Buyan yawned while her body fell backward. “The capital is your root. Let’s put down roots here first.”

…

In another courtyard.

Young Master Pei had one leg pressing on the quilt, one eye closed and one forcibly held open, saying weakly:

“Xie Fifty, Third Master Xie, Ancestor Xie, can you please sleep now?”

“No.”

The Xie Zhifei behind the bed kicked him with his foot. “Keep me company a bit longer.”

Brother, you’re putting me in a difficult position.

Young Master Pei pulled the quilt over his head. “How about this—consider me already dead.”

“Pei Mingting, even if you died and became a ghost, you’d still have to talk to me.”

Xie Zhifei kicked again. The corpse suddenly sprang to life, both eyes fixed on the person at the foot of the bed.

Xie Zhifei was startled by his stare. “What are you doing?”

What am I doing? Just suddenly remembered something.

“In the private room, when Yan Sanhe told you to pinch her, why did you slap yourself instead?”

He still remembered this little thing?

Xie Zhifei sneered coldly. “Me pinch her? Pinch where? Pinch too lightly, she wouldn’t feel it; pinch too hard, would you feel sorry for her or not?”

“Hey, I thought you couldn’t bear to do it!”

The corpse flopped back down.

“I couldn’t bear to on your behalf.”

“Of course I couldn’t bear to. She’s so delicate and tender—how could she withstand a pinch from a rough fellow like you?”

Young Master Pei’s voice grew lower and lower.

“Fifty, do you think with me hovering around her like this, she’s developed even a little affection for me?”

“Mm.”

“I think so too. The way she looks at me now is different. Once Jingchen’s heart demon is resolved, I need to work harder. It’s just that stirring stick Li Buyan is too much of an eyesore…”

Who the hell came here to listen to your rambling?

Xie Zhifei simply got up and put on an outer robe, walking out of the room.

Rain water slid down from the eaves—not so much dripping on the ground as dripping into his mind, reflecting Yan Sanhe’s face.

Slowly, that face transformed into Tang Mingyue’s.

“Master?”

Hearing the commotion, Zhu Qing emerged wearing an outer robe, rubbing his eyes. “Why aren’t you sleeping yet?”

Xie Zhifei glanced back at him, immediately making up his mind.

“Since you’re awake, let’s return to the residence.”

“At this hour?”

Zhu Qing looked at the sky—it was still pitch black!

Wait, there was still a sliver of light coming from the neighboring courtyard.

“Miss Yan hasn’t slept yet. I’ll go tell her.”

“No need. I’ll go myself.”

Xie Zhifei picked up the umbrella under the eaves and walked out of the courtyard, gently pushing open the door to the neighboring courtyard.

…

The vermillion door creaked open. Yan Sanhe frowned.

Who was coming to her courtyard at this late hour?

“It’s me, Yan Sanhe.”

That person spoke beneath the window. Yan Sanhe walked over and propped up the window, first seeing a black oiled paper umbrella. The umbrella lifted, revealing a face with sharp features.

She had to admit, this person’s appearance was truly excellent.

“Why isn’t Third Master sleeping at this late hour?”

“What about you?” He asked back.

Yan Sanhe averted her gaze. “Thinking about some things.”

“What things?”

“The Zheng family.”

The corner of Xie Zhifei’s mouth curved up, but his eyes held no trace of mirth.

“The case is right there. Whether it’s a day early or a day late, it won’t run away.”

“How is it that Third Master isn’t anxious anymore?”

“I am anxious, but I also know that keeping the green mountains ensures firewood remains. Don’t think you’re made of iron.”

Xie Zhifei looked at the red blood vessels in her eyes.

“Rest well for two days first. In two days I’ll come find you and bring the case files with me.”

Two days would be enough for him to find out Tang Mingyue’s birth date, and incidentally investigate this person.

If there were no special circumstances, it would just be a coincidence. He was probably overthinking it.

After half a day of sitting still, Yan Sanhe had already calmed down.

Li Buyan and he were both right.

The case was right there. After waiting all these years, there was no rush for this moment. She still had some preparatory work to do.

First, she needed to make another trip to Water Moon Convent to see someone and do something.

Second, she needed to see Han Xu and ask him to help gather information about the Zheng family from outside channels.

Finally, she wanted to visit that wasteland again.

Lost in thought, Yan Sanhe’s gaze became vacant, her lips pressed tight, her skin still that pale, revealing a rarely seen fragility.

No heroic spirit;

No sword-like brows;

No widow’s peak.

As Xie Zhifei traced this face with his gaze, he simultaneously recalled carefully in his mind the appearances of his father and mother.

Besides the sound of rain drops, the world was extremely quiet, as if only the two of them remained.

One stood inside the window, one outside.

Each lost in their own thoughts.

Yan Sanhe came back to herself and saw the man staring at her. “What is Third Master looking at?”

The words came without filtering through his brain.

“Looking at you.”

Yan Sanhe never expected him to throw a straight punch like that. “What are you looking at me for?”

“Wondering…”

Xie Zhifei: “Whether you look more like your mother or more like your father.”

I’d like to know too.

Yan Sanhe disliked being asked about her past. “Is Third Master overthinking things?”

Xie Zhifei suddenly smiled. “Yan Sanhe, how many couples in this world are like Lu Shi and Tang Zhiwei?”

“Why are you asking this?”

“I just find it incredible. It feels like listening to a play—after it’s over, the aftertaste lingers and I can’t forget it.”

His voice was very low, covered by the sound of rain, carrying a faint sadness.

This kind of Xie Zhifei was one Yan Sanhe couldn’t handle.

“Everyone has their own fate. Many things can’t be dwelt upon—dwelling on them chills the heart. Third Master should step out of the play.”

“Have you stepped out of it?”

Xie Zhifei lifted the umbrella a bit higher, half-smiling. “Awake in the dead of night—is it only for the Zheng family?”

“Yes!”

Yan Sanhe shut the window with a “pa.”

Trying to provoke her again?

Ptui!