Jiang Ling also wanted a look inside. He pushed forward with great force, but Ming Huazhang, trained in both civil and martial arts, stood with a firm, well-rooted stance and did not budge no matter how hard Jiang Ling shoved. Ming Huashang, however, was another matter entirely.
She only felt a sudden impact, her footing went unstable, and she was on the verge of pitching forward — when a pair of slender hands caught her arm in time and pulled her gently back.
Ming Huashang tumbled into a broad, upright chest, and a rush of crisp, cold fragrance hit her nose. Her fingers instinctively clutched the clothing of the person in front of her, and Ming Huazhang pressed his hand to her shoulder, drawing her protectively in front of him.
Ming Huashang was slightly dazed — this was the first time she had such a direct, visceral sense of just how tall Ming Huazhang had grown. Ming Huazhang cast a cold look at Jiang Ling. He said not a single word, but the warning in that look was enough to make Jiang Ling freeze on the spot.
Ming Huazhang shepherded Ming Huashang back out of the room. Once they were steady, he released her without fanfare, stepped back to put some distance between them, and said, “Princess Taiping does not like outside interference. Entering would cause us no trouble, but these maidservants would certainly be punished. Do not make things difficult for them. Let us go.”
Jiang Ling was reluctant to leave and dawdled, intending to slip inside once Ming Huazhang walked away. But Ming Huazhang saw through his intention at a glance. Without any visible exertion, he gripped Jiang Ling by the collar and simply dragged him out of the doorway.
Jiang Ling felt himself hoisted by some tremendous force. He let out a flurry of blustering protests, but the hand pressed to the back of his neck was cold and merciless as an iron clamp, and he had the distinct impression he had been physically lowered down the steps. Ming Huazhang showed no expression whatsoever. “Er Niang, close the door.”
Ming Huashang answered crisply and locked Wei Zi’s door with clean, decisive efficiency, even securing it with the copper lock hanging nearby. Ren Yao looked on coolly at the figure being dragged out like a dead pig. “How utterly embarrassing.”
More embarrassing still: once Ming Huazhang released him, Jiang Ling stumbled upright and dared not even lash out. He straightened his collar with great force and put on a fierce expression, hurling threats: “Just you wait — I’ll make you regret this one day!”
Ming Huazhang brushed his sleeve off with one hand, still radiating that same cold, aloof, untouchable air. He could not even be bothered to glance at him.
Jiang Ling gave a disgruntled snort and muttered, “I didn’t want to look anyway. A room some ghost lived in — who’d even want to see it. Hmph, boring. This young master is going back to play with Baobao.”
Jiang Ling swaggered off, moving with the strutting gait of a crab. Ming Huashang watched the retreating figure of this particular quail putting on the airs of a fighting cock, then asked, “Second Elder Brother, what do we do now?”
The maidservants crouched in the shadows with their eyes riveted to the floor, practically spelling it out: please leave. There was no use questioning them in this state. Ming Huazhang let out a quiet breath. “Let us go first.”
Ming Huazhang led the way out. Ming Huashang followed close behind. Ren Yao exhaled a long breath of relief and hurried after them.
Ming Huazhang had very much wanted to systematically trace those who had encountered Wei Zi, but now everyone in the villa was in a state of mutual vigilance and no one was willing to open their door to answer questions. In the blink of an eye, it was the Hour of Monkey, and the sky had grown dim, yet they had turned up nothing.
The shadows of dusk made Mount Mang look especially cold and forbidding. Ming Huazhang knew that pressing on further would only be a waste of time. He also noticed Ming Huashang quietly breathing warm air onto her hands, and knew she had not eaten properly since morning and that her body must be struggling. “We have been to every place we could,” he said. “Let us go back.”
Feihong Garden was tense as a drawn bowstring. Needless to say, sharing quarters again tonight would be the safer option. The four of them returned to the guest courtyard in subdued silence.
Ming Huashang once again found herself grateful that she was such a dedicated eater. She had brought none of the useless finery — the fine clothes and jewelry, the poetry collections — that others might have packed for a mountain trip. She had brought food instead.
Though Feihong Garden had stored ample provisions, the villa was in turmoil now, and Princess Taiping had enough trouble of her own to manage without remembering to prepare meals for her guests.
Ming Huashang’s food basket once again proved invaluable. The food inside was cold, but it was clean, safe, and filling — which in a moment like this was worth more than anything else.
All four of them came from marquis or duke households. Even Ren Yao, who seemed the most unconstrained, had cultivated her table manners from childhood. The four of them ate in quiet and efficient silence. When Ming Huashang saw the tension in everyone’s manner ease ever so slightly, she had Zhao Cai put away the basket and asked, “Zhao Cai, is the snow I asked you to collect this morning still there?”
“Still there.”
“Good. Go and fetch the flower dew and the red clay brazier. The freshly fallen snow is clean and crisp — perfect for brewing tea. Remember to bring the lily flower dew.”
Zhao Cai had long since grown accustomed to Ming Huashang’s whims and answered without a second thought. Ming Huashang turned back to the group, eyes bright. “Traveling up the mountain doesn’t allow for much luggage, so I only brought one small clay brazier — barely enough for flower tea. My technique is nothing special, but the snow here on Mount Mang is fresh. Would Second Elder Brother, Xie Jiejie, and Ren Jiejie honor me by having a cup?”
Ren Yao frowned. She rarely spent time with other young women, but did the ladies of Chang’an and Luoyang these days all carry their own clay braziers when they went out? Xie Jichuan asked with curiosity, “Second younger sister — can you see the future? How did you manage to bring all of this?”
Ming Huashang looked expressionless as she replied flatly, “If I could see the future, I wouldn’t have come up the mountain two days ago.”
Xie Jichuan nodded, with deep sincerity. “True enough. I deeply regret it myself — why, when I received the invitation, couldn’t I have set aside my pride and declined?”
Ren Yao lost her patience. “People are dying outside one after another, and none of you are frightened?”
“Whether one is frightened or not, a person still must eat and drink.” Ming Huashang beckoned for Zhao Cai to set the tea things down nearby, and began arranging the utensils with practiced ease. “A day spent in joy is still just a day. A day spent in misery is still just a day. Why not make things easier for yourself? Do any of you have things you cannot eat?”
Ren Yao was startled by the words. In her world, being idle was essentially a sin. Training in martial arts, studying — whatever it was, she simply could not be without something to do.
But Ming Huashang was her perfect opposite. Even here, in this tense, ghost-haunted mountain villa, she could produce a clay brazier and go through elaborate preparations just to boil water for tea.
She seemed to find happiness with remarkable ease.
Xie Jichuan propped his chin on one hand and watched Ming Huashang arrange the tea things in silence. He always wore a trace of a smile, but now, in a rare moment, he set it aside and said earnestly, “When disaster is at hand and there is no time for idle talk — I think second younger sister embodies the spirit of the Xie family better than I do.”
Those words were far too generous. Ming Huashang quickly deflected, “Xie Jiejie flatters me too much. I am an ordinary young woman — I would not dare bring dishonor to the Xie name. Zhao Cai, watch the fire. Ruyi, go fetch the snow.”
Ruyi answered readily. Xie Jichuan heard the name and glanced back at her, joking, “Her name is Zhao Cai. I assumed your name must be Jin Bao.”
Ruyi answered with perfect seriousness: “There is a Jin Bao — she simply did not come this time.”
Xie Jichuan had meant it as a joke and had not expected it to be true. He covered his eyes, laughing so hard he nearly doubled over. “Second younger sister — you are genuinely delightful.”
Ming Huazhang sighed faintly and said to Ming Huashang, “You — if only you would spare even three parts of the thought you give to food and drink for your studies, Father would not have worried so much.”
Ming Huashang shook her head with a pitiful expression. “But they are different. I am very happy when it comes to eating and drinking, but I feel no happiness at all when learning the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Besides — is Second Elder Brother not here for that?”
Ming Huashang had this approach down to an art. Ming Huazhang met her gaze — equal parts sulky and plaintive — and paused.
Xie Jichuan glanced at Ming Huazhang with an enigmatic half-smile. “Second younger sister, the water is boiling.”
Ming Huashang quickly looked down. Sure enough, the water had come to a full boil. With practiced hands she ground the tea, poured in the boiling water, and added the flower dew — a sequence of movements that seemed as if she had done it countless times before.
Lily flowers are sweet and slightly bitter in flavor, calming to the heart and soothing to the spirit — perfectly suited to the occasion. She skimmed off the foam, poured out the first cup, and offered it to Ming Huazhang first. “The first cup is for Second Elder Brother. I am unskilled and have achieved nothing of value — I ask that Second Elder Brother continue to be patient with me in the days ahead.”
Ren Yao had no siblings of her own and could not bear such saccharine scenes. She hissed through her teeth, feeling her own teeth go sour: “Is this how you two talk to each other at home?”
Ming Huashang kept her gentle smile steady, watching Ming Huazhang with quiet anticipation. Ming Huazhang slowly raised his hand and accepted the cup. Ming Huashang poured another bowl and held it out to Ren Yao. “Ren Jiejie has also helped me greatly these past two days. This cup is for Ren Jiejie.”
Ming Huashang did not answer Ren Yao’s question. If they had been true siblings, there would be no need for such formality. But she was not. Right now, she only hoped to cultivate a good relationship with Ming Huazhang, so that when the true young miss of the family returned, he might at least see fit to spare her.
Ren Yao had just been remarking on others’ sentimentality, and now found herself on the receiving end — she felt suddenly embarrassed. Her fingers curled slightly, and she accepted the cup with a show of indifference. “All right, all right. It was nothing. No need for all this fuss.”
Finally, Ming Huashang poured a cup with deliberate ceremony and, under Xie Jichuan’s teasing gaze, held it out to him: “This cup is for Xie Jiejie.”
Xie Jichuan asked on purpose, “I’m last?”
“Fine wine is worth the wait, and light gifts carry deep feelings.” Though she knew Xie Jichuan was mocking her, Ming Huashang answered in full earnest: “I have long heard of Xie Jiejie’s fine reputation, but only today have I had the honor of meeting him in person. He truly has the bearing of jade amid orchids. Not having met Xie Jiejie sooner has been a great loss to me — I hope Xie Jiejie will look upon my immense loss with mercy and not hold it against me.”
Ming Huashang had taken the words this far, and for Xie Jichuan to refuse at this point would be the height of cold-heartedness. He sighed and accepted the tea she offered with both hands. “Second younger sister is extraordinarily skilled at conversation. I find myself almost envying whoever will one day become your husband.”
Ming Huazhang took a quiet sip of his tea. At those words, a blade of a glance shot sideways, and the wisps of steam rising before his brows and eyes only deepened the impression of cold brilliance and jade-fine perfection.
Xie Jichuan felt thoroughly aggrieved at being on the receiving end of that look. “Second younger sister will have to be married eventually,” he said, putting his case. “I was only stating a fact. Do you dislike hearing even that?”
Ming Huashang, sensing trouble, hurriedly cut in: “All right, all right — I am still young, and I have never given marriage any thought. Second Elder Brother — do you truly believe these past few days have been the work of the snake ghost?”
Night had fallen and going out was inadvisable. It was also too early for bed. It was precisely for this moment that Ming Huashang had prepared the soothing tea — so they could brew tea and exchange information at the same time.
Ren Yao had nearly finished her entire cup of tea when she suddenly heard the word “ghost” and went rigid. She looked tensely at Ming Huazhang, not sure whether she wanted to hear a yes or a no.
Ming Huazhang was quiet for a moment. “When a person dies, their light goes out. If ghosts could kill, how would there be so many wrongful deaths in this world? I rather think someone has a guilty conscience, and is using talk of ghosts and spirits to manipulate people’s minds.”
Ren Yao hesitated. “But this morning, everyone saw it — Wei Zi’s blood-written words, the black brambles that do not grow near the capital. If it is not a supernatural being, how did those things come to appear?”
“That is precisely where the flaw lies.” Ming Huazhang said, “If we truly follow the logic of finding a scapegoat — that it was Chi Lan’s ghost that killed Wei Zi — then how would Chi Lan, a maidservant who had never left Luoyang, know what black brambles were, let alone go out of her way to use them to bind someone?”
Ren Yao felt understanding begin to dawn. “You mean… the other party did this deliberately?”
“Obviously.” Ming Huazhang gave a sharp, extremely cold sound of contempt. The young man stood with his neck long and slender, his bearing all ice and jade, his natural arrogance perfectly matter-of-fact. “There are so many ghost legends in the common world. Only one person had died, yet rather than inventing a mountain ghost or a snow ghost, the story circulated was of a snake ghost from thousands of li away. If no one were deliberately guiding this narrative, how could it have spread throughout the villa in a single night? Black brambles may indeed be a specialty of the Jiangnan West Circuit, but that circuit is vast — why did the rumor point directly to Fangzhou?”
It was as if someone was urgently anxious to make everyone in the villa believe: there is a ghost from Fangzhou.
What was so special about Fangzhou that it was worth sacrificing two lives and going to all this elaborate trouble?
Xie Jichuan kept his gaze lowered, fixed on the tea, and said nothing for a long while. Ming Huashang was not especially familiar with the geography of the Great Zhou empire, nor could she tell the difference between black brambles and ordinary thorns — but what she had seen that day occupied her mind intensely. “According to the maidservant who discovered the body and those who shared a courtyard with Wei Zi, the time of death was between the fourth watch and the second quarter of the Hour of the Dragon. I remember when I saw Wei Zi yesterday, she was wearing a blue outer robe with a pine-green skirt. When we looked at her room today, the colors inside leaned mostly cool-toned as well. So why, when she was found dead, was she wearing bright red?”
Ren Yao could not see why this mattered. “It is only clothing. Perhaps the killer changed it for her. What is so significant about that?”
But Ming Huashang fell silent, biting her lip, as though she had sunk into an enigmatic inner world. There, she was no longer Ming Huashang — she was a faceless, genderless killer.
What had been going through their mind, to make them change Wei Zi’s clothes?
Ren Yao did not dwell on these small details. She said regretfully, “It is a pity that after the incident last night, Princess Taiping had someone wash away Chi Lan’s writing and blood at the scene. If we could directly compare the handwriting, we might have another lead.”
At this, Ming Huazhang’s brow moved slightly and he looked toward Xie Jichuan. Xie Jichuan pretended not to understand, but he was no match for Ming Huazhang’s searing gaze. Feigning death was useless, so he resigned himself with a reluctant sigh: “What terrible luck. Can the moments when you think of me ever involve something good?”
Ming Huazhang did not budge. “He has had the name of a child prodigy since childhood — with a memory so perfect that a single glance allows him to reproduce anyone’s handwriting flawlessly. Shu Li, bring paper and brush.”
Ren Yao was astonished — she had not imagined that a gift existing only in books could actually be found in a real person. “Truly?”
Xie Jichuan wrinkled his brow in distaste, wishing it were not true. Ming Huazhang always carried writing supplies, just as Ming Huashang always carried food. Shu Li quickly brought out the paper. Xie Jichuan resigned himself to his fate and moistened the brush. “The price of poor taste in friends. Truly, the price of poor taste in friends.”
Xie Jichuan had just touched brush to paper when something that sounded like a collision outside the courtyard carried faintly through the air. The sound was slight, buried under the wind — but Ming Huazhang’s ear caught it, and his eyes turned razor-sharp in an instant. “Who is there?”
Ming Huashang was jolted out of that strange inner state. Before she could grasp what was happening, a rush of air swept past her nose — then a gust of wind and snow poured in at her back, and Ming Huazhang’s figure had already plunged into the curtain of falling snow.
Ren Yao also stood, grinding her teeth, snatched up her spear and charged out: “Which petty scoundrel is out there playing ghost and frightening this aunt into a sleepless night? You wretch — come give your life!”
Ren Yao stormed out as well. Ming Huashang stood there in a daze and asked, “What is happening?”
Xie Jichuan rose to his feet and said, “Perhaps we’ve caught our ghost. Come — let’s go and see.”