As early as the previous day, Xie Lanting had received word that Cheng Huaili had unlawfully mobilized troops from the patrol garrison, deploying them ahead of time to seal off every approach to the Temple of the Four Deities — inside and out.

At first, he’d assumed Cheng Huaili was simply afraid of death and wanted more men for protection.

But Yin Fengshi had said, “Guards are supposed to be visible — that’s what deters would-be attackers. Look at that old wretch: he’s hidden all his men out of sight. Isn’t he just setting the stage to catch a turtle in a jar?”

Xie Lanting thought that made sense and immediately sent someone to investigate covertly.

The men of the patrol garrison kept their lips tightly sealed — there was little to be gleaned directly. But the well-connected ladies of Chunfeng House had their own channels, and through them came the news: Cheng Huaili suspected that whoever had killed Lu Shouhuai bore a grudge against him as well, and so he intended to use himself as bait to avenge Lu Shouhuai.

— How convenient, Xie Lanting had thought, since he too wanted to know who had killed Lu Shouhuai.

So he’d brought Fengqing along and come.

No one else present seemed to know what was really going on — most had come simply to curry favor with Cheng Huaili or pay hollow respects. Xie Lanting had found himself a good vantage point well away from the crowd.

“From here, we have a clear view of Cheng Huaili’s meditation quarters.” Xie Lanting pointed. “The covered walkway, the pond, the rockery, and the stairwell beyond — all of them have hidden guards.”

Zhang Zhixu swept his gaze across the layout. “So afraid of dying — why not have someone impersonate him in that wheelchair?”

“Hard to say.” Xie Lanting mused. “Perhaps he thinks that wouldn’t fool whoever’s after him.”

Taking in the layout of the entire temple grounds, Zhang Zhixu said suddenly, “This place is cleverly arranged.”

A three-tiered meditation courtyard, curving around five shrines in a full circle, with only the main gate as entry and exit. Once a would-be assailant appeared, there would be no escape.

“Right.” Xie Lanting caught on, and gave a light clap of his hands. “He’s drawn up a snare and invited them to step in.”

Whether or not the person behind all this would take the bait was another question entirely.

Zhang Zhixu turned over in his mind those who might attempt a move here. His gaze drifted toward Ningsu.

The latter immediately clasped his hands in understanding and reported, “Magistrate Chen has not left home these past two days. She has eaten three pork knuckles, two whole chickens, and a bowl of tofu soup. This morning, she also had Han Xiao steam buns for her.”

Xie Lanting was stunned. “She ate that much?”

Zhang Zhixu pressed his lips together. “What do you know — she has a good appetite.”

“Even with a good appetite, you can’t just — well, all right, she can.” The words redirected themselves under the second young master of the Zhang family’s gaze, and Xie Lanting shook his head with a sigh. “I’ve never seen anyone indulge someone so much.”

Zhang Zhixu gave a light snort and declined to engage further, only instructing Ningsu to have someone report back every two hours and keep a written record — useful evidence should Xie Lanting ever again suspect Chen Baoxiang.

The auspicious hour arrived.

Pei Ruheng carried Lu Shouhuai’s memorial tablet on behalf of his uncle, proceeding from outside the main hall toward the interior.

The serving maids ahead scattered great fistfuls of spirit money. The attendants on all sides prostrated themselves with every step. Behind them followed a contingent of officials and soldiers from the household, weeping with such wrenching, lingering sorrow that the sound seemed to linger in the air long after.

The onlooking crowd outside was seething. Held back by the guards, they still hurled objects and shouted curses: “Shameless creatures!”

“How dare you bring someone like that in here to be honored — why hasn’t Heaven sent a thunderbolt to strike you dead?”

The jeers came from far away and were swallowed up by the sounds of weeping before they could reach the hall.

Cheng Huaili sat alone in the vast emptiness of the main hall, eyes half-narrowed, as though waiting for something.

The bell and singing bowl rang out. The enshrinement ceremony commenced.

Pei Ruheng entered the hall to pay respects to the abbot, then remained to listen to the chanting of the sutras.

The ceremony was long. Outside, the crowd pressed and jostled. Cheng Huaili’s position was close to the entrance — anyone with malicious intent could have broken through the guards and struck him with relative ease.

Yet he waited a long while, and nothing out of the ordinary occurred.

The burning of incense, the offering of coins, the ritual prostrations — every stage that might have given rise to trouble passed without incident. Once Lu Shouhuai’s tablet was placed on the long altar table before the guardian deity in the main shrine, everything would be settled.

For a fleeting moment, even Cheng Huaili began to wonder if he had been overthinking it. Who would want both Lu Shouhuai and him dead at the same time?

But that was precisely when the unexpected occurred.

The moment Pei Ruheng set the tablet onto the long altar table, a sharp smell of sulfur filled the air.

“Watch out!” Cheng Huaili barked.

Before Pei Ruheng could react, a hidden guard yanked him forcefully away. An instant later, the corner of the altar table where Lu Shouhuai’s tablet rested erupted with a thunderous blast. The entire long table split apart with a crack. The freshly offered tablet was instantly reduced to splinters, and the divine statue behind it shuddered from the shockwave.

“Assassin!” Cheng’an bellowed.

Hidden guards surged out from every corner, encircling the main hall in the span of a breath, sealing every exit.

Face darkening with fury, Cheng Huaili waved away the smoke billowing before him. He fixed his eyes on the shattered tablet and gritted out through clenched teeth, “Give chase.”

“Yes!”

In the distance, Xie Lanting laughed and clapped with delight. “What a satisfying commotion! Once word of this spreads among the people, it’ll become the tale of Lu Shouhuai inviting Heaven’s wrath upon himself for being placed in a station his virtue couldn’t support.”

Zhang Zhixu asked, “Did you see how the person escaped?”

Xie Lanting thought for a moment. “They must have hidden beneath the long altar table beforehand, lit the fuse, and slipped out through the rear door.”

“But the rear door is also guarded by patrol garrison soldiers.”

“That… I’m not sure.” Xie Lanting scratched his head. “Maybe the smoke was too thick and they simply didn’t see?”

Zhang Zhixu shook his head. “Clearly there’s a mole inside the patrol garrison.”

Without someone on the inside providing cover, no one could have escaped through that encirclement.

“Who on earth has that kind of reach?” Xie Lanting was shaken.

Zhang Zhixu was equally puzzled. To have planted an informant within the patrol garrison, this person would have to hold considerable rank and power — yet if they truly held such power, how could they only be seizing opportunities this small?

He continued to observe the main hall.

Cheng Huaili seemed to realize he’d overreacted. With a mixture of anger and embarrassment, he dismissed all the guards in full view of the assembled crowd.

With such an alarming turn of events, many of the officials present wanted to leave.

But Cheng’an came with men to block their way, smiling as he said, “With an assassin loose in the temple, it wouldn’t be safe for any of you to wander off. Please retire to the meditation quarters and rest — once we have sufficient men in place, we’ll escort each party home in turn.”

“Much obliged.” The assembled officials returned the courtesy with strained bows.

Zhang Zhixu followed them as they were ushered to the meditation quarters. Whether by intention or coincidence, Cheng’an had placed him and Xie Lanting in the two rooms closest to where Cheng Huaili was staying.

“What does this mean?” Xie Lanting raised an eyebrow. “Does he suspect us?”

“We’re not on good terms, and I happened to be here — suspecting me is entirely reasonable.” Zhang Zhixu pushed open the window, pulled over a stool, and settled himself into it with unhurried ease. “Though I’m hardly foolish enough to walk into a known trap.”

He had no shortage of opportunities to see Cheng Huaili. Even if the man usually refused to leave his estate, he’d still have to attend palace banquets — the Emperor’s birthday every year, the Princess Imperial’s birthday, the Crown Prince’s birthday — there was no end of occasions. Why bother striking at a moment when Cheng Huaili was so thoroughly prepared?

Xie Lanting agreed with the logic, pulled over his own stool, and settled in beside him to keep watching.

The chaotic crowd of mixed attendees had been mostly cleared away. The remaining officials and their families were all people of name and standing. A young monk knocked on each door in turn to inform them that at the hour of the rooster, everyone would be gathered to hear the abbot deliver a dharma lecture.

Zhang Zhixu watched in languid indifference as the nearby rooms saw a constant stream of people coming and going — one person suddenly claiming a stomach ailment, another insisting they’d glimpsed the assassin.

The hidden guards who had been so carefully positioned before were, piece by piece, flushed into the open by all this commotion.