In the capital of the north, where the chill of early spring had not yet fully lifted, a fast horse carrying a man in black robes galloped at speed through the busy market streets.

Zhou Qianli reined the horse to a stop at the rear gate of the Han residence, lifted a brocade box from the saddle, and slipped inside through the side entrance.

An incense stick’s time later, the head of the guard — his face drawn with urgency — received his summons and strode quickly into the Han residence, following a maidservant through the grounds until he arrived at the study in the rear courtyard.

“Excellency Han—”

The head of the guard went down on one knee, hand fisted in salute.

Han Fengnian’s expression was impassive. He lifted his chin toward Zhou Qianli, who stood at his side.

“Look at this — tell me whether that is Jia Ya.”

Zhou Qianli lifted the brocade box in his hands and, angled away from Han Fengnian, opened the lid before the head of the guard.

“This…” The head of the guard fixed his gaze on the head in the brocade box. A flash of startlement crossed his face.

After days of travel, despite the ice used to slow the decay, the head had begun to deteriorate slightly. Not wishing the degree of decomposition to cloud his judgment, the head of the guard looked again, studying the face intently.

“Is that him?” Han Fengnian’s voice turned cold.

After a moment, the head of the guard bowed his head low, not daring to look at the expressions of Han Fengnian or Zhou Qianli.

“…I report to Your Excellency — this person… is not Jia Ya.”

“How can that be?” Zhou Qianli was the first to speak.

The head of the guard looked at Zhou Qianli, whose brow was deeply furrowed in disbelief, and said with a pained expression, “This person… is indeed not the Jia Ya that I and Second Young Master Han saw that day.”

“But this is the very man on the wanted notice!” Zhou Qianli’s expression darkened. “If I found the wrong person, then the fault lies first with the portrait on your wanted notice!”

The head of the guard was just about to respond when a sharp command cut off his defense.

“Enough!”

Han Fengnian’s face was iron-grey as he shoved back from his desk and rose to his feet.

Zhou Qianli and the head of the guard both dropped to their knees.

“You cannot even manage one simple matter — what use are you to me?!” Han Fengnian snarled in a low, furious voice.

“Your Excellency — this subordinate deserves ten thousand deaths!” Cold sweat broke out across Zhou Qianli’s back, and icy dread crept up the back of his bowed neck. He spoke quickly: “Please grant this subordinate the chance to atone for this failure…”

“There is nothing more to be said! Have Ji Zichang proceed immediately to Yangzhou, Yongzhou, Huangzhou, and the surrounding prefectures, and conduct a thorough check of the household registers — I will scour the entire realm if I must, and I will find the one who murdered my blood kin—” Han Fengnian’s eyes were dark and vicious, his voice pressed through gritted teeth like shards of ice. “Since they refuse to bear sole responsibility for their own deeds, then do not blame me for sending their entire clan to the grave!”

“…As you command!”

……

“Achoo!” Shen Zhuxi sneezed.

Li Wu inside the carriage immediately fixed her with a look of reproach.

“You see? You see what happens? I told you to put on more layers, and you refused to listen — so now you have gone and caught a chill?!”

“But I’m not cold…”

The sneeze having left Shen Zhuxi somewhat sheepish, she put up little resistance when Li Wu pulled out an outer garment — one that clashed entirely with what she was wearing — and draped it over her shoulders.

“By the time you know you’re cold, it will be too late!” Li Wu said, his ill humor plain.

His grumbling worry reminded Shen Zhuxi of her own mother consort. On occasion, her mother consort would turn her attention to Shen Zhuxi herself — rather than to the role of the Princess of Yue and what might win the Emperor’s favor. She too would wear that expression of thinly veiled impatience, urging Shen Zhuxi to dress warmly before going out, to carry a parasol in the sun, to avoid cold and spicy foods — only then, she said, would her skin stay luminous as moonlight and her beauty endure.

“What are you smiling about?” Li Wu asked, brow furrowing.

“I was thinking of my mother consort,” Shen Zhuxi said.

Li Wu’s expression turned peculiar. “Are you calling me effeminate?”

What did one thing have to do with the other?

Shen Zhuxi had no choice but to explain patiently: “I mean that she used to fuss over me the very same way — telling me to bundle up and stay warm…”

Li Wu’s expression improved. He adjusted the collar of Shen Zhuxi’s outer garment, drew the two ties together, and tied a lopsided butterfly knot that was rather charmingly crooked.

“Was your mother good to you?”

Shen Zhuxi instinctively lowered her gaze, avoiding his clear, direct eyes, and said softly, “She was… she was quite good to me…”

Li Wu noticed her evasion but did not press further.

He deliberately reached over and ruffled the hair arrangement she had spent half an hour putting together. “Am I good to you?”

Shen Zhuxi hurried to protect her tottering hair from his marauding hand, and glared at him furiously. “What do you think?!”

Li Wu broke into a grin, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

“Naturally — the best in the world.”

The mood between them was light and easy. This was the right moment to bring up dissolving the false marriage.

The words made it all the way to the tip of her tongue, and then she found she could not say them. She looked at Li Wu’s unguarded, carefree expression, and something lodged sharply in her throat — like a fish bone — that she could neither swallow down nor cough up. Her opened mouth closed again, without a sound.

“What is it?” The insufferable man noticed her hesitation, and said, “You just went to relieve yourself, didn’t you? Did the cold get to your stomach — are you about to—”

“That’s enough out of you!” Shen Zhuxi cut him off before he could finish.

“Then why all the hemming and hawing?”

“I wanted to ask how much longer until we reach Xuzhou.”

Li Wu lounged against the carriage wall and kicked open the window behind Shen Zhuxi’s back with one foot. He looked out for a moment, then said, “People are appearing — there is a very good chance we have already crossed into Xuzhou territory. Are we, Li Kun?”

“Can we have offal for supper tonight?” Li Kun’s voice came from outside with delight.

“What in blazes are you daydreaming about?” Li Wu sat up sharply. “I asked you whether we have reached the Xuzhou border!”

“We have, we have — we passed the border marker just a moment ago,” Li Kun said.

“Are you certain you didn’t take a wrong turn?” Li Wu said with suspicion.

“I didn’t! Li Kun is… Li Kun is smart, you know!”

Even from the sound alone, Shen Zhuxi could picture Li Kun’s indignant expression.

Li Wu turned his head, and what he found was her unsuccessfully suppressed laughter. His brow had barely begun to lower before Shen Zhuxi said knowingly: “You matter most. You are the most important of all.”

Shen Zhuxi had thought this would be enough to survive the moment unscathed — but Li Wu took an entirely different route and immediately launched a new and searching line of inquiry:

“Well, well, Shen Zhuxi — you’ve become quite skilled at coaxing men. Who taught you that, and who do you plan to use it on?”

“Who else would I use it on, other than you?” Shen Zhuxi looked alarmed.

One Li Wu was already more than she could handle. If another Li Wu the Second were to appear beside her — one who spent every waking moment comparing himself to people, objects, and even a bowl of porridge — she might as well stop living.

“Shen Zhuxi—” Li Wu’s back peeled away from the carriage wall, and his face drew close to hers.

Shen Zhuxi instinctively leaned back, the heat rising in her face the nearer he came.

Li Wu looked at her steadily, a trace of seriousness surfacing in the depths of his eyes.

“When you see Emperor Yuanlong, remember what you just said.”

Shen Zhuxi thought of her own intentions, and the hand she had been pushing against his chest seemed to lose all its strength.

Li Wu took hold of the hand resting against his chest and closed it firmly inside his palm.

“Don’t be afraid. You hold fast to yourself. Everything else — leave it to me.” He said.

“Li Wu…” Shen Zhuxi gathered her courage and opened her mouth.

Li Wu looked at her. She struggled to find the words. “I…”

“We’re here! Big Brother, we’ve arrived! We can have offal! Big Brother’s offal down bel—”

Li Wu shot half-upright, reached out as Li Kun appeared in the doorway, and hooked an arm around his neck, saying through his teeth, “The sun is just right today — a fine day to give someone a beating—”

Li Kun, caught in Li Wu’s chokehold, flailed both arms wildly. “Hit Third Brother! Hit Third Brother! Hit Piggy! Hit Piggy! Not Li Kun! Not Li Kun!”

Shen Zhuxi, still inside the carriage, stuck her head out in agitation. “Stop making trouble — we are still on the road! What if the horses spook?”

For a moment, the carriage was in uproar.

The matter of her confession was naturally swept from Shen Zhuxi’s mind entirely.

After that small commotion subsided, both carriages pulled up at the city gate on the Xuzhou border. The carriage carrying Miss Wang was ahead. No one could see what she presented to the guards, but both carriages passed through without incident — the passengers and their belongings were not even checked.

Once they were through the Xuzhou gate, Shen Zhuxi immediately grew tense.

Would she manage to see Emperor Yuanlong without difficulty?

Once she returned to the imperial household, she would inevitably come face to face with Fu Xuanmiao as well. A year had passed. News of the Princess of Yue’s death had spread throughout the land. If he had already remarried, so much the better. She would not need to be given in marriage to him, and he would not need to accommodate the imperial family’s wishes while privately resenting the match.

…But would things go as she wished?

Three hours later, the two carriages passed through four towns and finally, as evening fell, arrived at Pengcheng County — the seat of Xuzhou’s prefectural government.

No sooner were they inside the city than Wang Shiyong, accompanied by her maidservant Chun Guo, came to take their leave. It seemed that the considerable influence Wang Shiyong had quietly demonstrated throughout the journey within Xuzhou had made an impression — Li Wu agreed to let her return home on her own, with the understanding that she would bring the agreed-upon “silence fee” in person when she came to express her gratitude.

After the two women departed, Li Wu began searching for a place to stay. They went to four inns in succession, only to find each of them without exception packed to capacity.

The fifth inn they tried was the last remaining one in Pengcheng County. Since the question of whether they would have a bed to sleep in that night was at stake, Shen Zhuxi climbed down from the carriage as well, wanting to hear the innkeeper’s answer the moment it came.

“…Nothing — even the stable has been let out. There is truly no space to be found.” The innkeeper spread his hands.

“Brother Innkeeper, do you know of any other inns in the city? We have already tried Ruigui, Jixiang, Longfeng, and Tai’an — this is the fifth inn we’ve come to,” Li Que said.

“Even if you searched the whole city, you would not find an inn with a room left.” The innkeeper waved his hand with complete certainty. “Come back in a couple of days and you’ll find vacancies everywhere. You just happened to arrive at an unfortunate time—”

“What unfortunate time?” Li Wu asked.

“What a time to arrive indeed!” the innkeeper said. “His Majesty just departed — most of those who came to join the Emperor’s forces are still lodging in the city. Come back two days from now, once they have moved on, and every inn in the city will have rooms to spare!”

“His Majesty has left?!” Shen Zhuxi’s face went pale. The words left her mouth before she could stop them.

“He departed just yesterday.” The innkeeper looked at them strangely. “Have you also come to join the Emperor’s forces? Bad timing, I’m afraid — His Majesty and the Chancellor left Xuzhou just yesterday.”

“Do you know where they have gone?” Shen Zhuxi asked urgently.

“How would someone like me know the whereabouts of His Majesty?” The innkeeper let out a helpless laugh.

“Sister-in-law…” Li Que began, then seemed to think better of it.

Shen Zhuxi understood his meaning. She forced down her disappointment and said nothing further, not wanting to arouse the innkeeper’s suspicions.

Beneath the cover of her sleeve, Li Wu’s hand slipped in and closed quietly around hers — a brief, gentle squeeze of comfort.

Shen Zhuxi was stricken, her thoughts adrift. Forgetting propriety, she let him hold on.

“How many days do you intend to stay in Xuzhou?” the innkeeper asked.

“Three to five at the shortest, half a month at most,” said Li Wu.

“If you cannot find an inn, I happen to know of a place I could suggest.”

“What sort of place?”

“Are you brave?” The innkeeper’s gaze swept across the four of them, his scrutinizing look settling especially on Shen Zhuxi.

“Whether we’re brave depends on whether the rent is low enough.” Li Wu said. “If you pay us to stay there, we’d sleep in a mass grave.”

Shen Zhuxi looked utterly horrified — she certainly would not!

Li Wu’s shameless remark made the innkeeper burst out laughing despite himself.

“…I can’t very well pay you, and I’ve never been to a mass grave myself. But there is indeed a place that could be rented to you at a low price for a temporary stay.” The innkeeper smiled. “Come along with me.”