It was a perfectly ordinary day.

At the third mark of the yin hour, Ling Zhiyan, Aide of the Court of Judicial Review, rose from bed.

After washing up, Ming Shu brought in his morning meal: a steamer of white sugar cakes.

The previous day, Deputy Chief Justice Zhang Huai of the Court of Judicial Review had held a hundredth-day banquet for his son, and had invited a few close friends — Ling Zhiyan among them. The gathering had been warm and pleasant, and after it was over, Zhang Huai had come running out the door after him and pressed a food container into his hands.

“Sixth Young Master, just look at yourself — Hua the Fourth has only been away from the capital three months, and you’ve already lost a whole size. In the future, if you’re too busy, don’t stand on ceremony — come eat at my home. My Zhang household’s cooking may not match the delicacies of the Hua estate, but it can at least fill a stomach.”

It must be said, speaking the truth plainly was genuinely a fine tradition of the Court of Judicial Review.

Deputy Chief Justice Zhang’s words had hit the nail on the head: filling a stomach was indeed the only merit Zhang’s household’s white sugar cakes had to offer. They were hard enough to knock a person out, and Ling Zhiyan gnawed painfully through two pieces, one of which nearly cracked his tooth.

Ming Shu silently brewed a large bowl of hundred-flower tea. Ling Zhiyan let out a sigh, broke the white sugar cakes into pieces and soaked them in the tea, and finally managed to finish them.

Starting the morning on a bad note — the mood of Chief Aide Ling was not particularly pleasant.

At the first mark of the yin hour coming to full, Ling Zhiyan picked up his document satchel and left the house punctually.

Ling Zhiyan lived in Dunhou Quarter — the golden residential district of the Eastern Capital, with convenient transport and many advantages.

For instance, it was within walking distance of his workplace, and he could be summoned for unexpected overtime at any time — though the disadvantages were equally obvious, namely that the rent was exorbitant.

The last case involving the Taiyuan Jiang Clan had earned him a reward of thirty thousand guan from the sovereign, which he had used entirely to support the junior members of his clan, leaving him with nothing but his modest Court of Judicial Review stipend to live carefully on.

If only one of these assignments would come with a reward of a property in the Eastern Capital, Ling Zhiyan thought — like Lin Niangzi had received — he could at least save on rent.

Unfortunately, the Sixth Young Master of the Xingyang Ling Clan was famously thin-skinned, and such a request really wasn’t something one could say directly to the sovereign. He could only make small hints, but the sovereign seemed to pretend not to understand, and moreover appeared to take great pleasure in watching him squirm in awkward embarrassment.

Honestly, Ling Zhiyan sometimes thought — the sovereign was also rather bored.

Ahem — that’s dangerously disrespectful, dangerously disrespectful!

Ling Zhiyan silently reproached himself, then fell in with the flow of officials from the Six Ministries and Nine Supervisorates, and at the first mark of the mao hour passed punctually through the gates of the Imperial City. Exchanging nods of greeting along the way, he entered the Court of Judicial Review and made straight for the records chamber — there were still a few volumes of case files from the day before left unread, which had to be finished before morning court ended.

The period from the first mark of mao to the end of chen was the immovable daily morning court session, attended by all officials of sixth rank and above within the Imperial City. This window of time was also the Court of Judicial Review’s rare quiet hour, with everyone tacitly using it to press ahead with work. Otherwise, once Chief Justice Chen Yanfan returned from court, there was no telling what chaos he would stir up next.

Ling Zhiyan had read through case files for more than an hour, until his eyes ached terribly. He stood up and paced around a few times, then drew out the small glass jar he always carried with him, took a sour plum from inside, and placed it in his mouth. The tartness flooded in at once, refreshing his mouth and bringing a sweet warmth to his heart — he felt much better.

These sour plums had been pickled by the Third Young Lady of the Hua family herself and sent by swift courier from Yidu. Ling Zhiyan still remembered the first time he had eaten one — Third Young Lady Hua Yi Meng had picked it up with her slender jade fingers and placed it into his mouth, along with the fragrance that clung to her person…

Ling Zhiyan’s ears burned. He hastily drew a deep breath and banished the ill-timed thoughts from his mind.

These plums had originally been prescribed to treat his nausea condition, but now that it was mostly cured, he had developed instead an acquired craving for sour things — each day without a few was enough to leave him feeling hollow.

Ming Feng, standing nearby, fidgeted and seemed on the verge of saying something.

Ling Zhiyan: “What is it?”

Ming Feng sighed. “Ling Gong, in the future, it might be best if you eat these sour plums away from prying eyes.”

“Why?”

“Last time when you were investigating a case, you had one of your nausea attacks, and then got better after eating a plum, and unfortunately some citizens were watching… The entire neighborhood is already gossiping like mad. They say the good-looking aide at the Court of Judicial Review is actually a woman disguised as a man — and with child…”

Ming Feng: “Pfft ha ha ha ha ha!”

The “good-looking” Chief Aide Ling wrestled with himself for several moments. “It’s not as though I look like a woman the way Hua the Fourth does — how could anyone think that?!”

Ming Feng laughed so hard he nearly doubled over. “Not so, not so — precisely because Hua the Fourth is more fragrant than any woman, he raises no suspicion, whereas you, Ling Gong, with your honest and upright manner, are actually more likely to attract that sort of attention.”

That was a rather strange thing to say, Ling Zhiyan thought — clearly Ming Feng had been spending too much time with Mu Xia and picking up bad habits.

While they spoke, a commotion erupted outside. Ling Zhiyan glanced at the sky — chen hour had ended, morning court must have concluded. He quickly walked to the main gate.

Even from a distance, he could hear Chief Justice Chen Yanfan’s thunderous voice. “Fang Feiguang, you — if you’ve got the nerve, let’s settle this one-on-one! What kind of man goes around throwing insinuations and veiled insults in court every single day?!”

Deputy Chief Justice Zhang Huai had both hands gripping Chen Yanfan’s arms, using the full force of his strength to drag him back inside, sweating so hard his forehead was drenched. Chen Yanfan not only refused to cooperate but, using Zhang’s grip as leverage, launched himself upward in a series of flying kicks at the air, roaring abuse.

The man outside, Fang Feiguang, was no better — braced under the arms of two Censorate surveillance inspectors, he was kicking even more enthusiastically and cursing even louder. “Chen Fanfan, you have the nerve to say anything? When are you going to investigate those impeachment cases from the御書台? They’ve been dragging on for months — babies have been born in the interim!”

“Not a scrap of evidence, and you want me to investigate — go bother your grandmother’s legs! Obviously it’s your lot of surveillance inspectors stirring up trouble out of boredom!”

“Chen Fanfan, that is dereliction of duty born of personal grudges!”

“I’ll derelict your grandfather!”

“I’ll spit on your grandfather!”

Ling Zhiyan rushed forward and helped Zhang Huai haul Chen Yanfan back inside. Reinforcements from the Censorate arrived and carted Fang Feiguang off flat on his back. Officials passing by didn’t even bat an eye.

The Court of Judicial Review’s peaceful morning thus came to an end.

Chen Yanfan had brought back one piece of good news and one piece of bad news.

The good news was that newly appointed Touring Censor Hua Yitang would be returning to the capital in a matter of days. The bad news was that he was bringing with him an entire load of case file scrolls, and the Court of Judicial Review was universally scheduled for overtime.

Chen Yanfan dabbed his balding scalp with a small hammer dipped in hair-growth tonic, tap tap tap. “Tell me, what kind of person is this Hua the Fourth? How is it that everywhere he goes, he finds injustices, everywhere he goes people are dying, as if every case in the entire Tang nation is destined to be encountered by him alone? And that Lin Sui’an — wherever she goes there are rivers-and-lakes bandits, mountain highwaymen, and — ah, just recently there was some sect raising private troops. Good grief, those two — truly extraordinary!”

Deputy Chief Justice Zhang sighed in admiration. “Destined people — their fate is singular and beyond what ordinary souls can fathom.”

“What destiny? The destiny of unlucky souls?”

“Pfft — ahem, Honorable Chen, you really mustn’t say such things aloud…”

Ling Zhiyan listened to the two of them, and felt a faint sense of disorientation.

He seemed to rather miss Mu Xia’s cooking, the Four Saints’ dry humor, Fangke’s perpetual coffin-face, Jin Ruo’s white sugar cakes — he even missed Yita’s hellishly pungent brewed tea.

Most of all, he missed…

Just as his thoughts drifted into the open sky, a female official arrived with an imperial decree: the sovereign had summoned Court of Judicial Review Aide Ling Zhiyan for an audience.

The Empress’s expression was grave. One hand propped against her cheek, the other tapping rhythmically on the imperial desk.

On the desk, memorials were stacked in towering piles.

Ling Zhiyan’s heart sank — some great new case must have arisen. He quickly came forward and bowed. “Your Majesty has urgently summoned this minister — what matter requires attention?!”

The Empress frowned. “All of these are memorials urging me to name an Imperial Consort!”

“Hm?”

“These old ministers go on and on day after day, droning about the legitimacy of the imperial line and the purity of the bloodline, insisting that the Imperial Consort must be selected from the finest young talents of the great noble houses.” The Empress sighed and looked up, her eyes soft and drifting as a pool of spring water. “When it comes to outstanding young men from those noble houses — well, Ling Aiqing, you—”

Ling Zhiyan’s scalp felt like it had exploded. He dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor. “This minister already has someone he holds dear in his heart, and intends to marry no one else his entire life — until death do us part!”

The Empress drew out a long “Oh,” stretched her neck forward, and her eyes lit up. “Ling Aiqing — is the person you hold dear the Third Young Lady of the Hua family, Hua Yi Meng?”

Ling Zhiyan’s throat worked several times. He gritted his teeth. “It is!”

“Wonderful! Wonderful!” The Empress was overjoyed. “Ling Aiqing, quickly rise, and recount in full the story of how you won Third Young Lady Hua’s heart!”

Ling Zhiyan was dumbfounded. “What?”

The Empress, from somewhere unknown, produced a small notebook and held up her writing brush, looking at Ling Zhiyan with hopeful eyes. “Go on.”

“What — what does this have to do with selecting the Imperial Consort?”

“They’re of the same family — their tastes and interests are sure to overlap. Ling Aiqing’s experience may well prove useful to me!”

Ling Zhiyan’s eyes stretched wider and wider. “Could it be — could it be that Your Majesty’s chosen candidate for the Imperial Consort is — is —”

“Ah, I’ll just say it plainly.” The Empress cleared her throat. “I have taken a liking to Hua Family Head Hua Yihuan.”

A bolt of lightning grazed his scalp and crackled past. Ling Zhiyan stiffened completely, his mind spinning furiously with a string of large, blazing characters:

This is the Forbidden Palace!

The person before you is the Sovereign!

You must not be disrespectful under any circumstances!

Hold yourself together — you must hold yourself together!

Ling Zhiyan did not hold himself together.

The Empress doubled over with laughter. “Hahaha, Sixth Young Master Ling — what sort of expression is that?! Hahaha!”

Ling Zhiyan knelt. “This minister begs forgiveness for his impudence!”

“Never mind, never mind,” the Empress waved her hand. “Hurry up and tell me your experience!”

Red-faced and on pins and needles, Ling Zhiyan haltingly recounted the key moments of how he and Hua Yi Meng had come to know each other. The Empress listened carefully, took detailed notes, and at last offered her summary: “I see — Sixth Young Master Ling employed three techniques: playing hard to get, rescuing the damsel in distress, and catering to her interests. The strategies may be a bit old-fashioned, but perhaps the Hua family members are exactly the sort to respond to them.”

Ling Zhiyan sat with his eyes closed, fists clenched, feeling as though he were slowly being cooked alive.

The Empress was far from satisfied, and proceeded to keep him in the palace for a meal, tea, and a musical performance, determined to thoroughly extract and absorb every last drop of Sixth Young Master Ling’s meager romantic experience. Only at dusk did she magnanimously consent to release him from the palace.

By the time he returned to the Court of Judicial Review, it was fully dark. Ling Zhiyan was exhausted in body and spirit, walking in a daze.

He had not even made it to the door when Wan Lin, Judicial Adviser of the Metropolitan Prefecture, came charging over, grabbed Ling Zhiyan by the arm, and dragged him away. “Young Brother Ling — there’s been a major case!”

Ling Zhiyan snapped back to alertness. “What case?!”

“An airborne thief has appeared in the Eastern Capital, stealing heirloom treasures from three wealthy merchants in succession. Today he sent a calling card, announcing that he intends to steal from a fourth — let’s hurry and catch him!”

Ling Zhiyan stared at the flower-patterned calling card before him, feeling an immediate sense of familiarity.

“Having long heard that your esteemed household possesses a treasured relic passed down through the generations, I find my heart drawn toward it. Tonight at the third mark of the zi hour, I shall arrive by moonlight, and humbly request a viewing of this treasure.”

The characters were perfectly horizontal and rigidly upright — unmistakably the “wooden-style calligraphy” of the Greatest Thief Under Heaven.

Ling Zhiyan pressed his hand to his forehead: “That’s Yun Zhong Yue.”

Wan Lin nearly fainted: “We’re finished!”

Yun Zhong Yue’s target was a Persian merchant who had settled in the Eastern Capital less than half a year ago. On receiving the calling card, far from being alarmed, the man was actually somewhat excited. Besides reporting to the authorities, he had also invited a renowned figure from the Eastern Capital’s martial world to assist.

The renowned figure was Ding Kun, one of the Ten Elders of the Pure Gate’s Eastern Capital branch, who arrived with twenty Pure Gate disciples, utterly self-assured.

“You two honored officials need not worry. Our Pure Gate has engaged Yun Zhong Yue in battle many times and has considerable experience. Today we have laid out a heaven-and-earth net — if Yun Zhong Yue doesn’t come, so be it, but if he dares show his face, we will make sure he can’t swallow what he’s bitten off!”

Before his words had even faded, a voice drifted in on the wind: “My, what big talk. In all the years I have wandered the rivers and lakes, the only person I have ever feared is the Master of Qian Jing from your Pure Gate. Beyond that — I have feared no one.”

A shadow drifted on the wind to the tip of a pointed upturned eave — black clothes, black boots, a silver mask. Behind him, an enormous full moon, and trailing from him, long hair shimmering with silver light.

The Persian merchant erupted in a volley of excited shouts, barely restraining himself from dashing up on the spot to shake hands and get an autograph.

Ling Zhiyan and Wan Lin exchanged a glance and simultaneously drew their blades, bounding up the wall and onto the roof, charging directly at Yun Zhong Yue.

The wind suddenly picked up. Behind Yun Zhong Yue, the moon’s halo blazed into sudden brilliance, transforming into a phantom of nine cascading lotus flowers. Layer upon layer of petals unfurled through the air and swept down like a canopy toward the two of them.

Is this the Lotus Step? How has it become so terrifying?

Ling Zhiyan was badly shaken. In confusion he raised his blade to meet it, but several strokes cut through nothing but air. Behind him, Wan Lin let out a yelp and tumbled off the roof. A surge of wind rushed in abruptly, and Ling Zhiyan found himself looking into a pair of smiling eyes behind a silver mask.

Quick as lightning could be described but not seen, a cry rang out from the courtyard: “Sixth Old Ling — get clear!”

It was Jin Ruo’s voice.

Ling Zhiyan moved with his instinct, unleashing a slash as he rapid-retreated. He heard three successive crashes above — five enormous nets spread open in the air and came whistling down toward Yun Zhong Yue. These were the “fish-catching nets,” a contraption the Bureau of Works Vice-Minister Lu Yingjie had been testing and refining for some time.

Yun Zhong Yue balanced on his tiptoes atop the roof tiles, spun in the air like a flowing breeze — light as though dancing — tucked his body airborne, and emerged from the encirclement of nets without a scratch. “Little Jin Ruo — I haven’t seen you in a few days, and you’ve grown wiser. A pity these crude toys are nowhere near enough to hold me.”

Quick as lightning, a metallic ring split the moonlight, and an eerie green lightning bolt tore through the darkness. A black-clad girl burst through the light like a tempest and surged toward Yun Zhong Yue.

At almost the same instant, a snowy white boot grazed the top of Yun Zhong Yue’s head and sailed past, and Hua Yitang’s booming voice rang through the night sky: “Eat filth — Yun Zhong Yue! You still dare show your face! Tired of living, are you?!”

Yun Zhong Yue had no time to answer Hua Yitang. The phantom of nine lotus flowers and the light of Qian Jing’s blade entwined and clashed in the moonlight, sparks flying everywhere — more brilliant than the lanterns of the Lantern Festival by three parts.

Ling Zhiyan was self-aware enough to know his limits. He turned and dropped off the roof — this was already a battle beyond his imagination, and he had better keep his distance.

The Persian merchant stared in disbelief. “I know! That is the Door Deity! The War Goddess!”

Gradually, Qian Jing’s blade-light grew more and more fierce, while Yun Zhong Yue’s lotus phantoms diminished one by one — from nine to eight, then from eight to six. When the fifth phantom was cut apart, Yun Zhong Yue suddenly cried out: “Lin Sui’an — don’t force me to use my ultimate technique!”

Lin Sui’an laughed coldly. “I told you long ago — don’t fall into my hands!”

With that, three strikes of the Blade Furnace Breaking Grief crashed forward. The lotus phantoms were all extinguished. Only a lone Yun Zhong Yue remained. With Qian Jing about to sweep across his throat, Yun Zhong Yue suddenly tore the silver mask from his face.

In the moonlight, that face was beauty beyond the mortal realm.

Lin Sui’an’s step faltered. Qian Jing’s blade swung wide.

Yun Zhong Yue burst out laughing and vanished on the wind — gone without a trace.

Hua Yitang was incandescent. “Yun Zhong Yue — have you no shame?!”

Yun Zhong Yue’s voice drifted back from the distance: “Of course I have it — I need this face to escape with my life — life — life—”

The Persian merchant grew anxious, and with his entourage gave chase: “Moon fairy of the heavens — don’t go! I’ll give you my treasure — come back—”

Lin Sui’an sighed, leapt down into the courtyard. “Yun Zhong Yue’s Lotus Step has grown more refined.”

Jin Ruo gritted his teeth. “We went the whole way together, and he stole the whole way together — he must have done it on purpose!”

Hua Yitang was puffed up with anger. “Lin Sui’an — you went easy on him again!”

“That face is General Qin’s face,” Lin Sui’an said helplessly. “I can’t bring myself to strike…”

Hua Yitang’s expression went black as a charred pot. He turned and walked away. Lin Sui’an followed, half-laughing, half-vexed, and poked Hua Yitang on the shoulder. Hua Yitang made a couple of disgruntled sounds and kept walking. Lin Sui’an tugged at Hua Yitang’s sleeve. Hua Yitang’s footsteps stopped. He grabbed Lin Sui’an’s hand and pulled her into his arms, one arm wrapping around her waist, every word dripping with sourness: “Next time — he absolutely cannot get away!”

“All right.”

“You are not permitted to stare at his face.”

“I’ll try.”

“A liar is a little dog!”

“…Woof…”

Jin Ruo and the assembled Pure Gate disciples wore expressions of utter despair. Wan Lin clicked his tongue. “This is too much — not treating any of us as outsiders at all. I’m blushing on their behalf.”

Ling Zhiyan: “…”

That thickness of face — truly worthy of Hua the Fourth.

Hua Yitang turned his head. “Sixth Young Master, why are you still standing there? Let’s go home for a late-night snack.”

Lin Sui’an: “All the most expensive things.”

Jin Ruo: “And turtle soup!”

Ling Zhiyan broke into a grin. “Coming.”

It was another ordinary day.

At the third mark of the yin hour, Court of Judicial Review Aide Ling Zhiyan rose from bed.

Ming Shu brought in the morning meal: steaming hot mutton noodle soup, just sent over from the Hua household.

Ling Zhiyan waved his hands.

He had eaten too much last night, and was still slightly queasy.

He took out a sour plum, placed it in his mouth — and felt considerably better.

Thinking about how Hua Yitang had mentioned last night that Third Young Lady Hua Yi Meng would be coming to the Eastern Capital for a stay next month, his heart felt even better.

At the first mark of mao, he entered the Imperial City and made his way to the Court of Judicial Review.

Passing by the morgue, he saw several newly arrived coroners come flying out the door and collapse to their knees outside, retching catastrophically.

The Court’s gold-medal coroner, Fangke, walked out with a dissection knife in his left hand and a blood-dripping length of intestine in his right, wearing an expression of intense disgust. “And you’re already sick? The standards for coroner examinations at the Court of Judicial Review get worse every year!”

Ming Shu and Ming Feng flattened themselves against the wall and bolted. Ling Zhiyan pretended not to know them, popped two sour plums in his mouth, and also fled.

At the third mark of chen, morning court ended. Chief Justice Chen Yanfan and Censorate Grand Master Fang Feiguang came to blows at the main entrance. The officials of the Court of Judicial Review and the Censorate groaned with suffering and, at the cost of nine bulls’ worth of effort, tore the two pillars of the court apart and hauled them back to their respective offices.

At the first mark of si, a female official delivered an imperial decree summoning Court of Judicial Review Aide Ling Zhiyan for an audience.

Ling Zhiyan steeled himself and went. Before he had even reached the Imperial Study, he could already hear the Empress’s voice: “Lin Aiqing — I’ll be direct with you. I have taken a liking to Hua Yihuan. You must tell me how you won Hua the Fourth’s heart, so I may use it as reference.”

Ling Zhiyan’s foot slipped and he nearly threw out his back.

Inside the Imperial Study, Lin Sui’an stood rigid, chin dropped, eyes bulging — not the slightest trace of the Master of Qian Jing’s usual commanding bearing.

Ling Zhiyan felt his soul find equilibrium. It seemed that even someone with an iron constitution like Lin Niangzi could not withstand this particular brand of shock.

Under the Empress’s combination of pressure and enticement, Lin Sui’an haltingly explained a few key points of how she had come to know Hua Yitang. The Empress wrote everything down rapidly, then offered her analysis: “Lin Aiqing’s approach was also rescuing the helpless hero! It seems the Hua family is particularly fond of this kind. Excellent! Covert Censor Ling Zhiyan, Lin Sui’an — hear my decree!”

Ling Zhiyan and Lin Sui’an dropped to their knees: “Your servants are here!”

“I hereby order the two of you to disguise yourselves as mountain bandits, travel to Yangdu, and abduct Hua Yihuan. Once I lead reinforcements to his rescue, all will be accomplished!” The Empress’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled. “What do you think of this plan?”

Ling Zhiyan was drenched in cold sweat. “This plan is deeply flawed!”

The Empress was taken aback. “In what way?”

In every possible way! Ling Zhiyan wailed inwardly — this is completely absurd. Have you no sense of decorum?

Lin Sui’an wiped the sweat from her brow. “Your Majesty, if this minister may speak — the Hua family head has navigated the world of commerce for many years and is exceptionally astute. This plan is too improvised. He would certainly see through it.”

Ling Zhiyan was overjoyed: Lin Niangzi — well said, keep going.

The Empress chewed her brush handle and thought it over. “What Lin Sui’an says makes sense. The two of you know Hua Yihuan too well — he’d certainly recognize you. In that case, have Wan Lin — along with the eighteen Wan Clan cavalry — play the bandits and abduct Hua Yihuan, while the two of you accompany me to rescue him. How does that sound?”

A mouthful of old blood lodged in Ling Zhiyan’s chest and nearly knocked him senseless.

Lin Sui’an swayed on her feet — she also looked close to her limit. The two exchanged a glance, and simultaneously reached a decision.

Ling Zhiyan: “Your Majesty, this minister humbly submits — no one knows a brother better than his own kin!”

Lin Sui’an: “This minister is only skilled in fighting. As for such underhanded — ahem, this minister means to say — Hua the Fourth is exceedingly clever and supremely skilled in precisely this sort of matter.”

The Empress’s eyes lit up with sudden enlightenment. “Both Aiqing make an excellent point. Someone — summon Censor Hua to the palace at once!”

Ling Zhiyan and Lin Sui’an exchanged a look of mutual suffering, and quietly retreated to the doorway.

Not long after, Hua Yitang came sweeping in. Seeing the expressions on their faces, a string of question marks formed above his head.

Lin Sui’an gave Hua Yitang a shove through the door to the Imperial Study. Ling Zhiyan pulled the hall doors shut. Then they heard Hua Yitang’s startled cry from within: “Wait — wait, wait, wait?!”

A short silence followed, then Hua Yitang and the Empress’s voices rose in tandem, chattering away in a lively back-and-forth — clearly getting quite absorbed in the discussion.

Lin Sui’an gave a dry cough. “Ahem — the weather is nice.”

Ling Zhiyan glanced upward. Fair breezes, a mild day, white clouds drifting in clusters. He smiled.

“Indeed, it is.”

Today was — truly, once again — an ordinary day.

At the same moment, in the grand Hua family estate in Yangdu.

Hua Yihuan sneezed three times in a row, and looked warily around him.

Why had he just felt a sudden chill? Who was plotting against him?!

You Have Money, I Have a Blade — Complete