Some days earlier, one of the rebel Cao Sheng’s trusted men had been captured in Yizhou. Under severe interrogation, certain crucial details had been extracted.

Beyond matters of military intelligence in the north, the most important revelation was that the mastermind who had come to rescue Cao Sheng was a person of noble rank from the capital.

The man had caught only an inadvertent glimpse of this figure from behind. Though he had not seen the face clearly, he had noticed that the man, while changing clothes, had removed from his waist a distinctive gold-thread-clasped jade ruyi pendant — an impression that had stuck firmly in his memory.

That person had then directed the trusted men and Cao Sheng’s followers from behind a covered face, leading the operation that threw the scene into chaos and allowed Cao Sheng to escape from danger. However, the person appeared to have suffered severe injuries, and afterward Cao Sheng had gone so far as to purchase tonics and send them as gifts.

As for this person’s identity, that trusted man did not know. But Cao Sheng and this individual seemed to share an exceptionally close bond, and the rebel army’s previous grain requisitions — including winter provisions — had all been smoothly resolved thanks to this person’s assistance.

By the time the interrogation reached this point, beads of cold sweat had broken out across the Sixth Prince’s forehead.

When Great Wei had suffered defeat in years past and lost twenty provinces of ancestral territory, the court had negotiated a peace settlement. Yet within the court, calls to wage war and recover the lost lands had never ceased.

The late Emperor had gone to great lengths to suppress the war faction in order to consolidate the dynasty’s stability — and it was only because of this that Great Wei had enjoyed several decades of peace.

If what this traitor said was true, then there was someone within the court secretly propping up the rebel Cao Sheng. Once Cao Sheng’s forces grew strong enough, they would inevitably shake the very foundations of Great Wei.

There was no time to lose. Only by rooting out the hidden traitor who was supporting Cao Sheng could they sever Cao Sheng’s right arm and left hand.

Unfortunately, the trusted man had not seen the noble figure’s face. After repeated rounds of questioning, the gold-thread ruyi pendant was the single key piece of evidence.

When the Sixth Prince looked at the rough sketch the man had drawn from memory, a flash of insight struck him. He produced a pendant for the man to identify — and indeed it matched the one the man was describing exactly.

It was unmistakably one of the prayer ruyi pendants the Emperor had distributed to the assembled ministers at the imperial birthday celebration two years ago — a style specially crafted by the Bureau of Internal Affairs, entirely absent from the civilian world.

At the time, the Emperor had been plagued by frequent nightmares and a restless spirit. A venerable monk had enlightened him that by weaving gold thread through jade and distributing the pendants among the ministers, the collective yang energy of the court could dispel the Emperor’s obsessive anxieties.

Such esoteric practices were not universally believed, but the principle of sharing the Emperor’s burdens was understood by all. For an entire year thereafter, every prince and minister who had received one of these pendants wore it daily and never let it leave his person.

The Sixth Prince acted without hesitation. He ordered his men to draw up a list — first compiling all those who had received the imperially bestowed ruyi pendants, then cross-referencing that list to identify which of those individuals had happened to be absent from the capital when Cao Sheng was broken out of prison.

Having worked through the list one by one, he eliminated the elderly and infirm, leaving only the middle-aged and youthful men who were physically capable of committing such an act.

Today, he had invited everyone on the list, using the pretext of bathing to have them remove their upper garments so he could check their shoulders for scars.

The only complication was that on the day of Cao Sheng’s prison break, a group of idle young heirs from the capital had been out on the nearby lake with celebrated courtesans and singing girls — and all of them were on the list. As a result, today’s hot spring pool was uncomfortably crowded, looking rather like a pot of boiling dumplings.

The Sixth Prince turned to the trusted aide at his side and asked: “Have you looked them all over? Were there any with new wounds on their shoulders?”

The aide answered quietly: “Two of the generals have some scarring on their shoulders, but both could produce credible accounts — they are all old wounds with known histories.”

The Sixth Prince raised an eyebrow. “And everyone on the list has arrived?”

The aide replied at once: “A few have not come yet. Young Lord Guo of the Prince of Yong’an’s household broke his leg and is still bedridden. General Lu’s son, Lu Kang, and the Shizi of Beizhen both drank heavily at Swallow Lake last night and had to be tracked down this morning. By the time, they should both be arriving shortly.”

Han Shen’zhi had been brimming with hope, but upon hearing that the only three yet to appear were these misfit stragglers, a wave of disappointment crashed over him.

Even lumped together, these three hardly seemed the caliber of men capable of orchestrating a prison break… Had his list been incomplete? Were there people he had overlooked?

In any case, there was nothing to do but wait for Lu Kang and Han Linfeng to arrive, have them remove their garments, and examine them.

The Sixth Prince thought this through, drew a slow deep breath, and looked down from the high platform at the hot spring pool of “dumplings” below, thinking to himself: just which scoundrel was the noble person helping Cao Sheng?

* * *

As for Su Luoyun — once the group of noble ladies had moved on, she took Xiangcao’s arm and stepped back onto the path, preparing to return to the Temple of Literature and join the queue for talismans.

But she had gone only a short distance when she came face to face with the late-arriving Han Linfeng and Young Lord Lu, who were making their way up to the gathering.

Since the two neighbors had grown somewhat distant of late, and in any case Su Luoyun had no need to observe social pleasantries in front of others, she simply stepped aside to make way after Xiangcao quietly alerted her.

Han Linfeng said nothing either. He simply gave Lu Kang a nudge and continued walking forward at a brisk pace — the fellow had caught sight of a beauty upon the mountain path and had come to a complete standstill, quite unable to move his feet.

Yet as he passed by Su Luoyun, Han Linfeng deliberately slowed his steps. He glanced without expression at the young woman with her head lowered, and asked quietly: “What brings you here?”

As he spoke, the mingled smell of wine and cosmetic powder drifted from him.

Su Luoyun was hit by the smell and could not help but sneeze. She then murmured her reason for coming.

Watching the faint wrinkling of Su Luoyun’s nose, Han Linfeng immediately understood that his own scent had offended her. He paused and said: “Last night’s banquet was windy and the windows were never opened. My smell is not particularly pleasant, I suppose?”

Though he knew perfectly well he should not court trouble with her, and that she had no desire to ingratiate herself with someone of his rank, chancing upon her so suddenly, Han Linfeng simply could not resist striking up a conversation.

Su Luoyun, knowing he must have had quite an enjoyable night of it, and thinking of those noble ladies’ remarks that Han Shizi ought to be eating dog kidneys to replenish himself, merely smiled faintly. “The hot spring on the far side of the mountain has a fine reputation. Why not have a proper soak later, Shizi? It will do nicely to wash away the fatigue.”

With that, she took Xiangcao’s arm and made to leave.

But Han Linfeng, who had walked a few steps forward, slowly came to a stop.

Just now, while the two of them had been speaking in low voices, Lu Kang had already walked some distance ahead. Turning back, he found Han Linfeng twisting around to watch the back of the beautiful young woman.

Lu Kang called out: “Shizi, have you forgotten we still have to attend Hengshan Wang’s banquet?”

Han Linfeng turned to him. “Please go on ahead, Brother.”

Young Lord Lu appraised the beauty’s retreating figure, then glanced at the quiet grove of trees nearby, and felt he understood perfectly.

It seemed the Shizi was in quite a romantic mood — planning to dally with the blind girl right here, a wild tryst among the trees?

Thinking this, he flashed a knowing smile and said lightly: “Take it easy, Shizi — don’t be too late getting to Hengshan Wang.”

With that, he led his servants away, still chuckling as he went.

Once Lu Kang was well out of sight, Han Linfeng caught up to Su Luoyun again. At the same time he turned to one of his guards and said: “Take Miss Su’s maidservant off to one side and fetch some mountain spring water to boil — Miss Su is thirsty!”

The guard obeyed before Xiangcao could protest, seized the little maid by the arm and marched her off in another direction.

Now that they were alone, he pressed her: what had she meant just now by “have a proper soak”?

Su Luoyun could not understand why he had sent Xiangcao away to interrogate her on this point. She repeated what she had inadvertently overheard from the Crown Princess, then asked at the end: “What is it? Is something wrong?”

Perhaps anyone else hearing it would have thought nothing of it. At gatherings among the nobility, it was not unheard of for people to strip off and plunge into a lake when the drinking grew lively.

But Hengshan Wang was not the type of man Lu Kang or Guo Yan was. As an imperial prince with his eye on the position of Crown Prince, he had always been cautious and restrained in speech and conduct, and had no taste for wine and feasting.

Yet today’s banquet had appeared out of nowhere. Han Linfeng had only received the invitation that very morning, and had initially tried to beg off with the excuse of nursing a hangover — but the messenger sent by Hengshan Wang had insisted all guests must attend, permitting no refusals. And yet nothing had been said about coming up a mountain for a morning bath.

If what Su Luoyun said was true… then Hengshan Wang’s sudden whim to arrange this bathing banquet held a very significant purpose indeed…

Han Linfeng’s mind raced. He thought of Yuan Xi’s secret report.

The one currently overseeing the suppression of the rebellion in the north was none other than the Sixth Prince. He had also learned that the captured trusted man was apparently being held in the Office of Justice.

That man had likely been unable to withstand the torture and had let slip things he should not have. Now, hearing Su Luoyun say that before the banquet even started, the Sixth Prince had led the guests into a mountain hot spring, Han Linfeng’s instincts told him something was very off.

The last time he had chatted casually with the Sixth Prince at a princess’s banquet, the Sixth Prince had mentioned something about a scar on an assassin’s shoulder…

In a flash, Han Linfeng understood. The Sixth Prince’s true purpose had nothing to do with drinking.

This mountain — he could not go up.

The moment he went up, he would inevitably have to disrobe with the others. The scar on his shoulder would be plainly visible, and the Sixth Prince would be able to identify him as Cao Sheng’s inside man without a doubt.

Su Luoyun could not see that Han Linfeng’s expression had grown grave, but hearing him fall into prolonged silence, she could sense that something was wrong.

She pressed her lips together and ventured: “Shizi, what is the matter?”

Han Linfeng said quietly: “Miss, have you considered that bathing requires one to disrobe?”

Su Luoyun turned this over carefully in her mind, and in an instant she saw the crux of it. She asked cautiously: “You… is there something on your person that cannot be seen?”

At this point Han Linfeng no longer concealed it from her. He told her that the Sixth Prince was apparently searching for someone with a scar on the shoulder — and that, as unfortunate chance would have it, he had precisely such a scar on his own shoulder.

Su Luoyun drew a sharp breath. She knew perfectly well where that scar had come from, and she understood that if Han Linfeng went up the mountain now, he would be stepping with one foot into the gates of death.

She said urgently: “Shizi, this mountain — you cannot go up!”

Han Linfeng’s expression was heavy. “…If I now try to find an excuse not to go up, I still cannot extricate myself from suspicion. Hengshan Wang has traced things this far — he will not let a single person slip through.”

Han Linfeng understood that this calamity would not be easy to survive. He needed to think.

If there was no other way, he had no choice but to flee straight to the northern territories — but that would inevitably implicate everyone in the Wang household. And so if he truly had no other option, he could only stay and bear the full weight of the charges himself…

He raised his eyes to look at the young woman before him. Han Linfeng slowly lifted his hand toward her cheek — then slowly lowered it again.

In the end, he only said quietly: “This matter is none of your concern… Go home.”

Su Luoyun curtseyed in silence, dimly understanding that this was most likely the last time she would ever speak with Han Linfeng.

He was walking toward a hopeless, inescapable trap.

She took a few steps forward, her heart heavy with reluctance.

She owed him far too much. It seemed she would have no chance to repay it in this lifetime… The scene from that deep night — him holding her hand, gently tracing the mountains and rivers of the twenty northern provinces — rose again in Su Luoyun’s mind.

Such an unbending pillar of Great Wei’s imperial blood — was he truly to be lost in the prime of his years? If only the scar were not on his shoulder…

At that thought, Su Luoyun suddenly stopped in her tracks.

In a flash, a thought had cut through her mind: if the Shizi were to be wounded again, and that new wound happened to cover the scar, would that not suffice?

But he was an idle young lord with no pressing duties. If he claimed to have been suddenly set upon and injured here at the foot of the mountain, no one would believe it.

After all, this was the foot of the Son of Heaven’s very capital, and on a day thronging with incense-seekers, no matter how brazen a mountain bandit might be, he would never choose a time like this to commit such a crime. To fabricate such a story would only draw more suspicion — like the man who protested his innocence only to reveal the silver buried beneath him.

Just then, another thought flashed through Su Luoyun’s mind. But it too was dismissed almost at once. This approach was not a sound plan, and the sacrifice it demanded of her was far too great.

She pressed her lips together and quickened her pace.

When she drew level with the guard Qingyu, he suddenly murmured: “Miss, the Shizi… has always treated you very well. He helped you on several occasions before. Even when Guo Yan intended to do you harm, it was the Shizi who devised a scheme and made him fall from his horse…”

Qingyu’s sudden words had a reason behind them. He had heard every word of the exchange just now, and of course he had also seen the Shizi’s gesture — at the moment of bidding farewell to Miss Su, the Shizi’s hand had lifted and lifted again, as though he wished to stroke her face, but had in the end restrained himself.

Only now did Qingyu fully understand — his young master had after all grown attached to her. But the Shizi carried too many burdens and could not act freely. And the one person he had at last found who stirred his heart was about to be lost to imprisonment.

His heart ached with a bittersweet sorrow. He could not help but want to leave some small impression of the Shizi in Miss Su’s heart.

“Qingyu…” Han Linfeng seemed unwilling to have Qingyu say more, and cut in at once to silence him.

But Su Luoyun’s heart gave a sudden lurch.

She certainly remembered Guo Yan. Previously she had assumed it was the Prince Consort who had displayed his authority and caused Guo Yan’s injury — it had never occurred to her that Han Linfeng’s hand was in it as well.

The help he had extended to her was, it turned out, more than she had ever realized…

Thinking this, Su Luoyun’s forward steps faltered. She wanted to turn back, yet hesitated. At last she steeled herself and slowly spoke: “Shizi, I actually… have an idea. Only, this idea…”

Before she could finish, Han Linfeng had already said: “Only, this idea would do considerable damage to your reputation.”

Su Luoyun suddenly smiled. So he had already thought of it as well — and had simply not said a word. Or perhaps he had been waiting for her to be the one to say it.

This man, though crafty and calculating, upheld the gentleman’s principle of not forcing others against their will — and that, in the end, was what made Su Luoyun’s decision.

“Since the Shizi has already thought it through, there is no harm in trying. I have long been in your debt — repaying it all at once is actually a relief.”

On this point Han Linfeng had long since made up his mind. He fixed his gaze on her and said: “If there is no other way, and only if you are willing — matters of reputation will all be my responsibility…”

Su Luoyun could not help but want to press her hand to her forehead. He was clutching at any remedy in desperation, what nonsense was he talking?

But Han Linfeng once again took hold of her wrist, and said slowly, word by word: “You must think this through carefully. Once you have become entangled with me, you will find it impossible to disentangle yourself…”

His words seemed to carry some deeper meaning, yet to Su Luoyun they meant nothing more than his fear that she had not fully thought things through and might back out at the last moment.

Su Luoyun could only laugh bitterly at herself. She knew perfectly well that Han Linfeng was a star of misfortune. But one must repay a single drop of kindness with a gushing spring. If she simply watched him walk to his death and did nothing, her conscience would give her no peace for the rest of her life.

The Su family’s earlier mountain of criminal charges had all been cleared away thanks to the Shizi. Repaying him now was only right and proper.

Just then, not far away on the small path, someone could be heard calling out loudly: “Where is Han Shizi? You are the only one yet to come — Hengshan Wang bids you hurry up and join the festivities!”

Su Luoyun understood with perfect clarity: those calls rang out like the summons of a death-bringing demon!

They were summoning not only the lives of Han Linfeng and his entire household — but hers as well.

After all, Han Linfeng had once hidden on her boat. The moment his secret came to light, the trail would inevitably be traced back to his having concealed himself aboard a Su family vessel — which would inexorably draw out her own failure to report what she knew.

From the moment she had learned his secret, she had been aboard the same sinking, leaking boat as him. And she truly owed him far, far too much…

Weighed against all that, damage to her reputation was not even a great matter. After all… she had no intention of marrying anyway!

Between two sharp-minded people, there are times when words need not be spoken to their end. In this moment, he and she understood each other perfectly, without a word.

As the calling voices drew nearer, Su Luoyun raised her hand and pulled the hairpin from her hair. She drew a quiet breath and asked: “You do it, or shall I?”

Han Linfeng took the hairpin from her hand and, without a moment’s hesitation, drew it across his own shoulder…

* * *

That day, the far side of Cuiwei Mountain was exceedingly eventful.

The Sixth Prince’s carefully prepared banquet was not eaten in any peace.

The reason was simple: the Shizi of Beizhen, Han Linfeng, drunk and without virtue, had caught sight of a blind girl alone on the mountainside path and been seized on the spot by a base impulse. He had his guards send her maidservant away, then dragged the blind girl into the trees.

The blind girl proved to be of fierce and unyielding character. She fought back with everything she had, and in the end wrenched out her own hairpin and slashed at the advancing Han Linfeng in a frenzy.

When two of the Sixth Prince’s guards, drawn by the sounds of commotion in the undergrowth, rushed over with blades drawn, they were both stopped short by the scene before them.

The usually dashing and carefree Shizi was in a wretched state. The front of his embroidered peony-pattern brocade robe was soaked through with blood.

His shoulder, his arm, and his chest were all covered in stab wounds.

The young woman he had pinned down also had disheveled hair, her sightless eyes staring blankly at nothing, one hand clutching the hairpin, still swinging it wildly — and in a matter of seconds, she added another gash to the Shizi’s handsome face.

When Hengshan Wang received the guard’s report, he was so furious he nearly toppled backward into the hot spring behind him.

The Emperor set great store by the private conduct of crown prince candidates. Several of the princes above him had been cast from the Emperor’s favor precisely for indulging in dissolute behavior.

Hengshan Wang had his eye on the position of heir apparent and had always comported himself with understated propriety, never sinking into wine and excess.

He had arranged this entire gathering specifically to investigate the rebel faction — only to have some lecherous fool generate a case of a drunken noble assaulting a commoner girl on the mountain road.

Word was that the young woman’s cries for help had already drawn quite a number of incense-seekers and talisman-hunters to the scene, all talking amongst themselves about how some nobleman’s guests, drunk from a banquet, had disgraced themselves by defiling a common girl.

The onlooking visitors buzzed with speculation. Some had even mentioned the Sixth Prince’s banquet by name, saying they had seen the Princess of Hengshan leading people to burn incense — so the gathering behind the mountain must be Hengshan Wang and his noble guests.

Everyone assumed the Sixth Prince would side with the powerful. The young woman was out of luck — her purity would likely be forfeit, and she would have to swallow her blood and broken teeth in silence.

The sterling reputation Han Linfeng had spent a lifetime carefully tending — the Sixth Prince had managed to preserve all these years — had been ruined in an instant by that scoundrel.

Even if he went before the Emperor afterward to explain that he had come here on legitimate business, the Emperor would find it hard to believe!

Of course, when word reached Han Shen’zhi that Han Linfeng had been injured, he could not help but feel a momentary flicker of suspicion — it was all too convenient a coincidence.

But this entire scheme had been a closely guarded secret. Apart from himself, he had not breathed a word to anyone; the guests who had come had no idea that bathing was on the agenda.

Han Linfeng, too, had only been tracked down from Swallow Lake that very morning — he knew only that Hengshan Wang was hosting a banquet. There was absolutely no way he could have known what awaited on the mountain.

If he had managed to arrange this whole scene on the spot, that would be nothing short of supernatural.

And Lu Kang, who had returned with him, was quite certain: their encounter with the young woman had been a purely accidental meeting on the mountain path. The young lady had apparently come to seek a talisman for her younger brother. Though she was gentle and delicate and completely blind, she was strikingly beautiful — enough that Han Shizi had found himself unable to walk past.

Lu Kang had not imagined things would escalate to this degree. Had he known the girl was of such fierce spirit, he would have stayed to lend a hand — at least then Han Linfeng would not have made such a spectacle of himself.

By the time Hengshan Wang came down the mountain in person to survey the situation, Han Linfeng’s guards were trying to apply medicine and bind his wounds — but the Shizi was complaining about the pain, howling that they should not sprinkle the medicinal powder, choking back sobs and glaring as he cursed at them.

As for the young woman, word was that she had been escorted down the mountain by Han Linfeng’s guards and was to be held at the Shizi’s residence.

The Sixth Prince’s own guards had stood watch throughout. It was said that the young woman, feeling deeply shamed, had pulled a handkerchief over her head and face at the earliest opportunity. Before the onlooking visitors could press in around her, she had already been sobbing and wailing as she was half-dragged away.

The Sixth Prince at this point had no attention to spare for this petty civilian matter. He crouched down and peered carefully at the wounds exposed on Han Linfeng’s body.

The young woman was reportedly quite slight and frail — yet her strikes had been savagely effective. Not only the shoulder, but the arm and chest as well were covered in deep, flesh-parting gashes, bloody and chaotic all over, a sight so gruesome it was difficult to look at for long. There was certainly no way to distinguish any older scars amid such carnage.

Pitiful Han Shizi — his body covered entirely in blood, his face already pale enough without face powder, its cut-marked surface drained of all color. Upon catching sight of the Sixth Prince, he began clamoring for the Prince to avenge him.

The sight was too grim to dwell on.

Han Shen’zhi had half a mind to give him a tongue-lashing, but listening to Han Linfeng’s howling and wailing proved too much to endure. He simply ordered in exasperation that the man be carried back to his residence — out of sight, out of mind.

A good-for-nothing like this, who couldn’t even hold down one frail blind woman and had let her reduce him to this state — how could he possibly be capable of leading men on a thousand-li raid to commit a prison break of such magnitude?

Still, since the incident had taken place at his banquet, he could not simply ignore it. He dispatched the Princess of Hengshan’s personal attendant matron to follow along to the Shizi’s residence and ascertain the young woman’s background.

The matron received her orders. Understanding that the Sixth Prince had sent her to smooth over the scandal, she went to the young woman and, with a mixture of coaxing and subtle intimidation, had her recount what had happened.

The full story, as it turned out, was this: the young woman lived next door to Han Shizi, and he had long been pestering her. She had been exhausted from evading his pursuit. On this day she had come up the mountain to seek a talisman for her younger brother, only to encounter the Shizi reeking of wine. He had seized her and dragged her into the trees, filling her ears with sweet and honeyed flattery. She had fought back with every ounce of strength, and only just managed to preserve her purity.

Now that she had been seized by that profligate and locked in his residence — if he intended to force her into becoming his concubine, she would rather hang herself than allow that scoundrel to have his way!

The Hengshan Wang household’s matron had no desire to deal with a death on top of everything else, and so soothed the young woman with gentle words before returning to make her report to the Sixth Prince.

By this time the Sixth Prince had also had people look into Su Luoyun’s background: a blind incense and spice merchant girl from the capital, from a plain, law-abiding merchant family — nothing remarkable whatsoever.