Huo Liuxing wheeled in, and this early summer day inexplicably felt as if frost had fallen, chilling people to the bone.

Kongqing’s finger, which had been pointing straight at the inkstone, trembled disobediently and retracted into his sleeve. He stared wide-eyed and swallowed hard.

Jingmo nudged him with his elbow, indicating he should ask what was going on.

Kongqing wore a bitter expression, not daring to make a sound.

The two were accustomed to serving Huo Liuxing and knew his temperament was far from as gentle as others perceived. Seeing this posture, they surmised someone must have caused big trouble. Right now, neither was willing to rush forward seeking a scolding.

But seeing Huo Liuxing’s brows knit into the character for “river,” seemingly not only angry but also containing a trace of great bewilderment, the two couldn’t very well ignore it and not help their master solve his troubles.

After a fierce staring match lasting half an incense stick’s time of “you ask” “I’m not asking, you ask,” Kongqing gave a miserable dry laugh, hunching his back with a fawning expression: “Master, did this subordinate say something wrong just now?”

Huo Liuxing slowly turned his head, glanced at him without speaking, and continued furrowing his brow.

Kongqing couldn’t figure out his meaning and could only steel himself to begin a systematic analysis.

Starting with flattery: “Master, this subordinate knows you can discern the minute, perceive clearly, prepare for danger in times of peace, have far-reaching vision, are resourceful and wise, brilliant in strategy…”

Then gradually approaching the main point: “Therefore I’ve always believed that the young madam, sent to marry into the Huo mansion by order of His Majesty and the Grand Princess of Zhengguo, has ulterior motives and plots wickedness.”

Then a sudden shift: “But since you can discern the minute, perceive clearly, prepare for danger in times of peace, have far-reaching vision, are resourceful and wise, brilliant in strategy… these past days, have you discovered even the slightest slip from the young madam?”

“You haven’t!” Kongqing said righteously. “Then, if there’s an answer that can clearly explain all your current doubts, why do you still refuse to believe it? Even Jingmo has wavered. You shouldn’t overthink either. The young madam simply admires…”

“Shut up.” Huo Liuxing shot him a knife-like glance, interrupting him.

Worldly matters are sometimes just this marvelous. When a person stubbornly refuses to believe something, the more they look at it, the more it seems to be true. But when a person finally decides to believe it, it jumps out and gives them a blow to the head, telling them they were too presumptuous.

“If there’s another answer that can clearly explain all the doubts,” Huo Liuxing pointed at the inkstone on the desk, “will you eat it?”

Jingmo detected something amiss: “Master, did you hear something from the young madam?”

Huo Liuxing exhaled heavily and roughly recounted the story from Shen Lingzhen’s mouth about mistaking her savior.

Although this story sounded equally mystifying, this way, from Shen Lingzhen’s initial urgency when she called out “husband” through the gate outside Qingyang City, to her extraordinary observation and attention during the wedding ceremony, to her probing with “I find you somewhat familiar, as if I’ve seen you somewhere” on their wedding night, as well as her pulling at his collar, peeking at him bathing, her curious attitude toward his sword and scar, and finally her reckless jump into the river to save him—everything was confirmed and explained.

Huo Liuxing had to admit this answer was more convincing than the so-called “admiration.”

Precisely because of this, after hearing Shen Lingzhen’s fragmentary words earlier, he quickly pieced together the rough cause and effect, made a snap decision to assume the identity of this so-called “savior,” and decided to temporarily go along with the mistake to stabilize her.

Only this way, new problems arose.

Kongqing asked blankly: “But how could the young madam mistake someone based on your sword and scar? Could it be that the real savior has an identical sword and scar to yours? Isn’t that too coincidental!”

Huo Liuxing’s sword had been custom-made for him by an old master swordsmith from Hexi, naturally unique in the world. If an identical one appeared, it must have been deliberately replicated by someone.

But this sword, Huo Liuxing had only used to kill enemies on the battlefield and had never flaunted it in Bianjing. If anyone could precisely replicate it, it was most likely someone currently in the Huo mansion.

As for the scar below his collarbone, aside from the soldiers who had been with him in the Xiqiang prisoner camp that year, no one else should know the details. Yet at that time, only he had escaped from the prisoner camp.

In other words, only someone with the opportunity to get close to him could possibly replicate this scar.

Comparing the two, everything indicated there was a mole in the Huo mansion.

But the strange thing was, this mole went through such elaborate trouble to impersonate him, yet achieved a result that was entirely beneficial to him without a single harm, making Shen Lingzhen, whose position had been unclear, become one of his people.

Put this way, this mole was quite painstakingly devoted?

Looking at the clueless Huo Liuxing, then at the equally suspicious Jingmo, Kongqing sighed.

Since the young madam married in, they hadn’t done any proper work—every day they just focused on solving riddles.

Thinking of this, he suggested: “This subordinate feels that since the young madam saw that person with her own eyes, she should have more detailed information there. Why don’t you go inquire, master?”

——

This suggestion indeed hit the nail on the head.

But this so-called “inquiry” was easy to say but very difficult to do.

According to the current situation, Huo Liuxing’s best approach was to “never mention past valor.” Otherwise, the more he said, the more mistakes he’d make. With the slightest carelessness, this identity theft could be exposed.

At that time, Shen Lingzhen would have no need to repay gratitude and would hate him for shamelessly usurping another’s place, undoubtedly viewing him as an enemy.

His legs weren’t yet at the point where they could stand up. Before then, having an intimate bedside companion become a mortal enemy would be no small trouble for him.

Only, having usurped the magpie’s nest, he must naturally pay the corresponding price. Whether trouble came or not wasn’t entirely up to him.

Before retiring at night, Huo Liuxing sat at the desk reading scriptures as usual, acting completely nonchalant.

But for Shen Lingzhen, today was a major day when the two were honest and intimate with each other. After finishing her bath, she couldn’t help sidling up beside him, calling: “Husband…”

Seeing her appearance, Huo Liuxing guessed she wanted to mention the life-saving matter. His heart jumped, but his face remained pleasant: “It’s getting late. Aren’t you tired?”

She sincerely shook her head: “I want to talk with you.”

Huo Liuxing covered his mouth, producing half a yawn: “All right, then I’ll chat with you for a while.”

“Great.” Shen Lingzhen propped her chin in both hands, smiling as she leaned closer to him.

Huo Liuxing choked. This girl was skilled at reading people’s expressions—how could she not see he was tired now? She said she’d repay gratitude, yet didn’t even have this bit of consideration. What kind of repaying kindness was this?

“What do you want to talk about?”

Shen Lingzhen pondered for a moment, first opening the conversation with Xiqiang’s drought situation.

Huo Liuxing had used this as an excuse to leave during the day but in fact hadn’t received any news from the north at all, so he gave a perfunctory answer of “all is well.”

Sure enough, next she heard Shen Lingzhen’s real topic: “There are some things I’ve wanted to ask you for a long time, but there was never an opportunity before.”

He closed his eyes heavily in his heart, putting away the scripture: “Then ask.”

“How did you know that day I’d been kidnapped, and how did you find me?”

Huo Liuxing had previously learned about the Peach Blossom Valley incident. This question wasn’t too difficult to handle.

He said: “Baiying Cult followers cause trouble from time to time. The border area is also affected by this. I happened to be secretly investigating all the way to Peach Blossom Valley in Bianjing at that time.”

Shen Lingzhen suddenly understood, smiling: “You must conceal the secret of your legs from everyone in the world, yet still care about the common people and risk danger to punish evil for the people. I truly admire you.” She then remembered another matter. “Also, what about that handkerchief in your cloak? Mother worried that bringing the cloak and handkerchief here would cause misunderstandings, so she left them in Bianjing. Otherwise, I could have returned them to you.”

“…” No one told him there was a cloak and handkerchief subplot to this story.

Huo Liuxing furrowed his brow as if recalling: “Handkerchief? What kind of handkerchief do you mean?”

“Don’t you remember? That sky-blue silk handkerchief with a poem inscribed on each side. One side was my handwriting, the other I don’t know whose. The poem was written so incoherently that I really couldn’t understand it.”

He coughed lightly: “Oh, you mean that one…”

“Mm?”

“I obtained it while tracking Baiying Cult followers. I casually put it in the cloak.”

“So that’s how it was. Then the inscription on the other side—was that your handwriting?”

This was truly a good question.

Since the other party had already replicated his sword and scar, the handwriting was most likely also identical. Huo Liuxing reasonably and evidently thought he should take a gamble: “It’s my handwriting.”

“Then that’s strange. Why would the Baiying Cult fabricate such an outlandish romantic story for you and me?”

Huo Liuxing blinked: “I was focused on killing at the time and didn’t have a chance to read it carefully. If you still remember those two poems, write them down for me to see?”

Shen Lingzhen’s photographic memory came in handy. She immediately agreed with a “good.”

To appease her, Huo Liuxing personally ground ink for her at her side. When he saw her elegant plum blossom small script, he furrowed his brow slightly, reading character by character: “Better to be drunk forever in southern dreams, still treating death’s parting as separation in life—waking also Yinyin, dreaming also Yinyin?”

Shen Lingzhen nodded: “Yinyin is my childhood name.”

“Oh…” This poem portrayed him as quite devoted.

Shen Lingzhen set down her brush, propping her forehead: “What do you think this poem means?”

Her question was clearly asking what intentions the person who forged her and Huo Liuxing’s handwriting had, but where would Huo Liuxing have any clue? Seeing her one question after another of “why” “what” “what to do,” he could only deflect and divert her attention.

He smiled, extending one index finger to lightly scrape the tip of her nose: “How silly. The meaning is naturally saying I’m fond of you.”

Shen Lingzhen froze at his affectionate gaze and ambiguous tone, her heartbeat uncontrollably quickening: “Are you talking about the poem, or are you saying…”

Huo Liuxing smiled and leaned closer, softening his voice by her ear: “What do you think?”