But examining Wen Niang’s body again was anything but simple. To ask Lin Xiao for help again? To trouble Feng Boyu again? Neither option was one Qin Yao wished to pursue, yet she could think of no third way. She had no choice but to set the matter aside for now.

After that day, Qin Yao continued studying under Old Master Fu, while waiting for Feng Boyu to bring her the latest news on the case. But Feng Boyu seemed to have vanished into thin air and came to the Qu residence no more. Occasionally Qu Ziyu would bring back word that Feng Boyu was so busy lately he barely had time to eat and sleep — let alone spare attention for anything else. Qu Ziyu urged Qin Yao to stop thinking about the Dali Court case. Though disappointed, Qin Yao had no alternative, and so she buried herself in her studies as some consolation.

Several more days passed in this way. Then Wang Yingning unexpectedly sent an invitation to Qin Yao, asking her out for a spring excursion. Qin Yao had been cooped up at home for so long that the chance to go out felt like a breath of fresh air. She was so thrilled she had no mind for her lessons anymore, took half a day’s leave from Old Master Fu, and went back to her room to write her acceptance of Wang Yingning’s invitation.

The invitation stated that Miss Wang intended to go to the Great Hidden Temple in the Western Quarter for the outing, and that several young ladies they had met that night at the Wei Duke’s estate would be joining.

On the day itself, Qin Yao rose early and dressed, then set out with her maid Caiping. The two of them, mistress and servant, boarded the carriage and headed straight for the Great Hidden Temple.

Qin Yao had long been curious about the Great Hidden Temple. She knew it had been founded in the same year as Qingyun Temple, and that its abbot, Venerable Yuan Jue, had only just passed the age of forty — and that in his youth he had some connection to her Master. But her Master avoided the subject carefully; whenever Qin Yao tried to ask about their past, he either evaded or flew into a rage. Over time, Qin Yao had learned not to ask anymore.

Thanks to Venerable Yuan Jue’s capable management, the Great Hidden Temple was now the most thriving Buddhist temple in Chang’an. It not only regularly hosted great imperial ceremonies of sacrifice, but had more or less become the venue of choice for the daily prayers and rituals of Chang’an’s noble ladies and gentlewomen. The unmarried young ladies praying for good matches, the newly-wed young wives praying for sons and heirs, the long-aggrieved wives seeking guidance on managing their husbands, and even the hidden, unmentionable secrets of deep inner chambers — all manner of such matters, without exception, came here.

And so each spring, many daughters of the nobility made excursions to the Great Hidden Temple together. Between the pleasures of enjoying the spring scenery, they would stop to make their girlish wishes before the reputedly very efficacious Bodhisattva.

When Qin Yao and Caiping arrived at the Great Hidden Temple, a few richly dressed women were just stepping down from their carriage outside the gates. Seeing Qin Yao, someone called out: “Miss Qu.” The voice was like the sound of clear, sparkling water — pleasant to the ear in a way that stood out.

Qin Yao looked up and saw an extremely delicate, graceful beauty smiling gently at her while leaning on the arm of a woman beside her. It was none other than Miss Ji from the Wei Duke’s estate.

The lady beside her Qin Yao had seen last time at the Wei Duke’s estate as well — her bearing was elegant and distinguished, her manner calm and composed; there was a grandeur about her that set her apart from ordinary women.

Qin Yao quickly stepped forward and made her bow. “Greetings to Her Highness the Princess, and greetings to Her Highness the Commandery Princess.”

Though Princess Derong’s face wore a smile, the warmth of it seemed to stop at the surface — as if settling on her face from a great height rather than reaching her eyes. She looked Qin Yao over briefly, then bade her rise.

“Miss Qu, did you also come at Miss Wang’s invitation?” Xia Yan smiled as she asked. “My mother and my maternal aunt also wanted to come and offer incense at the temple, so I came along with them.”

Before she could finish, another carriage drew up and a second lady stepped down. This woman was considerably younger than Princess Derong — no more than eighteen or nineteen — and her dress and adornments were even more exquisite and elaborate than Xia Yan’s mother and daughter.

The moment Qin Yao recognized who had arrived, she hastily lowered her head in something that almost resembled concealment, her heart thumping. Who would have thought she would run into Prince Lan’s consort here?

Last time, she had helped Lin Xiao deal with Zhu Qi’er inside Prince Lan’s estate, and in the process had exposed the consort’s schemes. Judging by how shocked and furious Prince Lan had been at the time, he would surely have punished this consort afterward.

Knowing this woman as she did, Qin Yao knew that if the consort failed to recognize her, it would all pass quietly. But once she was recognized, there would most certainly be another round of harsh and humiliating treatment. Qin Yao had always made a point of downplaying her identity as a Daoist for as long as possible. Unless there was absolutely no alternative, she had no desire to make it publicly known, and even less desire to be stamped with a label that marked her as different from everyone else. Moreover, the gulf between this woman’s standing and her own was enormous. If this woman had it in her mind to make trouble, Qin Yao would be powerless to resist. Why bring grief upon herself?

And so she kept her head low and made her bow in a subdued voice: “Greetings, my Lady Consort.” Caiping standing beside her found this peculiar — her mistress had been perfectly fine a moment ago; why had she suddenly become so timid and restrained?

Lady Cui, however, greatly enjoyed watching others cower submissively before her. Her face relaxed into a smile and she said pleasantly: “Mm, at least you know your manners. What’s your name? Whose child are you?”

Qin Yao groaned inwardly. She had intended to bow and slip by unnoticed, but instead had aroused this Lady Consort’s interest. There was nothing for it. She had no choice but to steel herself and answer: “To reply to my Lady Consort — I am the daughter of Grand Astrologer Qu Enze.”

By now, Xia Yan had also noticed that something was off. She had seen Miss Qu only once before, and she had always been free and composed — when had she ever been this meek and small?

Lady Cui nodded, beckoned Qin Yao to come nearer, and smiled: “Come closer and let me look at you.” The Nanny Li beside her also chimed in cheerfully: “Don’t be afraid — our Lady Consort is the most gracious and approachable person there is.”

Qin Yao’s mind was working at full speed, thinking of some way to redirect Lady Consort’s attention, when from not far away came the sound of horse hooves — “clomp, clomp, clomp” — heading straight for the temple gates.

Everyone turned to look, and they saw Princess Kangping riding a flame-red horse out in front, with a retinue of servants in barbarian garb surrounding her on all sides. In the blink of an eye they had arrived right before Qin Yao and the others.

Kangping dismounted in one nimble, practiced motion, tossed the reins to a servant, and said with a smile to Xia Yan and Princess Derong: “Almost late — let’s go in.”

She didn’t spare Lady Cui so much as a glance.

Lady Cui’s expression turned rather unpleasant. Princess Derong saw this, gave a quiet sigh, and pulled Kangping to her to dab the sweat from her brow. “Always so careless and reckless! The weather may look fine, but there’s still a chill in the shade. You’ve worked yourself into a sweat just now — you’ll catch a chill. Have them change your clothes for you in a little while.”

Then she smiled at Lady Cui and said: “Young people — they never know how to look after themselves. I noticed little Minglang was looking well when I saw him the other day — he’s filled out more since the last time I saw him. You must have put in no small effort as his mother.”

The implicit message was clear: as the elder here, there was no need for Lady Cui to bother herself over a young person who didn’t know any better.

Lady Cui had no choice but to soften her expression and say in a gentle tone: “When Minglang first came into the world, he was often ill. This past half year, after changing his wet nurses twice, his little body has finally been toughened up.” The women exchanged a few more words as they walked toward the temple entrance.

In an instant, Qin Yao’s crisis was resolved. She quietly breathed a sigh of relief and, for the first time, found that Princess Kangping wasn’t quite so unpleasant after all.

After they had walked for a bit, Princess Derong smiled at Xia Yan and Kangping: “This is your young people’s gathering — we older ones won’t tag along and get in the way. You go on ahead and enjoy yourselves. Your maternal aunt and I will go to the main hall to offer incense.”

Xia Yan and the others laughingly agreed and went to find Wang Yingning.

Wang Yingning was in a meditation chamber listening to a recitation of sutras with several young ladies who had arrived earlier. When Qin Yao and the others arrived, the large meditation chamber was entirely quiet; occasionally the voice of a middle-aged man would drift through in a measured, unhurried recitation — a voice steady and unhurried, undisturbed by anything in the outer world, carrying with it a strange power to soothe the heart and settle the mind.

Qin Yao entered the meditation chamber and looked up. Seated in the place of honor in the center was a middle-aged monk, his face as still and tranquil as water. As he spoke, his eyes were slightly downcast, not a hair out of place.

So this was Venerable Yuan Jue. Qin Yao couldn’t help taking a longer look. Perhaps owing to years of comfortable, undisturbed living, Yuan Jue appeared considerably younger than her Master, and his appearance might almost be called refined — he looked less like a man who had left the world and more like a scholar steeped in books.

The recitation broke off abruptly. Wang Yingning and the others, who had been listening with absorption, looked up in surprise. Venerable Yuan Jue was known for never being disturbed by external factors — once he began reciting, he would continue without interruption until he reached the end, and never stopped partway through.

Puzzled, they looked up to the front and saw Yuan Jue staring with heavy-lidded, intensely complex eyes at Qin Yao, who had just entered. His expression was so murky and difficult to read — utterly unlike the composed, serene man he had been a moment before, as if they were two different people.

Yet in only the span of a breath, Yuan Jue returned to his usual manner. He closed the sutra scroll, addressed the young ladies present, and said: “That will be all for today. Young patron ladies, please enjoy yourselves.” He rose and pressed his hands together in a slight bow to the young ladies listening to the sutras, then shook out his robe and walked unhurriedly toward the door.

Passing Qin Yao, Yuan Jue paused. Without looking at her, he tilted his head up to gaze at the deep blue, crystalline sky outside the courtyard.

After a long silence, he let out a sigh full of implication, then lifted his step and moved on.

Everyone exchanged puzzled glances.

Kangping shot Qin Yao a malicious look. “No matter where you show up, people just don’t take to you! Look — the moment you came in, even the abbot stopped reciting sutras.”

Qin Yao paid Kangping’s words about as much mind as one pays passing wind, but the incident did leave her genuinely puzzled.

Wang Yingning came over to smooth things over: “As it happens, today’s recitation was just finished. Princess Kangping, Commandery Princess Yishu, Miss Qu — the three of you arrived late. If we weren’t in the eyes of the Bodhisattva right now, I’d be obliged to have you all drink a penalty cup.”

Xia Yan smiled. “Just saying those words here is already an offense.”

Chen Yuqi strolled over and joined in: “No — in front of the Bodhisattva, not only should you not say it or do it, but even thinking it is improper.”

Kangping stood listening on the side, completely lost amid their wordplay, and said impatiently: “How dull! Didn’t they say there’s a peach blossom grove in bloom in the temple? Let’s not stand here talking — let’s all go and view the flowers.”

And so a young novice monk led Wang Yingning and the others toward the peach blossom grove within the temple grounds.

Qin Yao fell behind the group. Before long, a timid voice sounded beside her: “Miss Qu.”

Qin Yao turned her head to look — it was Miss Qin Yuan, who at the night banquet had sat beside her and barely dared to raise her voice. She nodded: “Miss Qin.”

Miss Qin Yuan smiled warmly at Qin Yao. The two walked side by side for a while, and then Qin Yuan seemed to gather her courage and said: “In a little while, I’m hosting a gathering of some friends at home, and I would very much like to ask if Miss Qu would kindly honor us with her presence.” When she finished, her face had gone crimson enough to drip blood, and the hand gripping her handkerchief was trembling faintly.

Qin Yao smiled warmly at once and took her hand in a gesture of encouragement. “Gladly — I’d be very happy to come.”

The relief was visibly written all over Qin Yuan’s face, and she gave Qin Yao a shy, grateful smile.

The peach blossoms at the Great Hidden Temple were a marvel. Every spring, the hundreds of peach trees in the temple would bloom together in unison, looking from a distance like a drifting cloud of pink mist — shimmering and ethereal, beautiful beyond all imagination.

When they arrived there, Princess Derong and the Lady Consort were already seated on long benches beneath the trees enjoying the view. Seeing Xia Yan and the others approaching, Derong called from a distance with a smile: “I’m truly sorry — these old bones of mine gave out after only a little walking, and I simply wanted to rest. I haven’t come here to interrupt your fun on purpose — please don’t hold it against me.” Xia Yan went over with a pout and nestled against her mother, refusing to let go in a show of girlish coquetry.

Derong patted her daughter’s face with loving affection. “Still acting like a child in front of your mother even at this age — how are you going to get married next year?”

At this, everyone smiled knowingly. From the look of things, Commandery Princess Yishu’s marriage had most likely already been settled — though no one yet knew which fortunate young man had won the right to bring home such a woman of both beauty and talent.

Lady Consort’s expression flickered and went stiff for a moment. A flash of venom crossed her eyes, though she concealed it quickly by looking down.

Qin Yao saw this and was quietly baffled — why did the Lady Consort seem to harbor considerable resentment toward Xia Yan? Were there tensions between them? She pondered it for a while, then decided it wasn’t her concern. The hidden sword-play between great noble families was far beyond the reckoning of an outsider like her.

The young ladies each paid their respects to Princess Derong and the Lady Consort in turn. Qin Yao was the last, as usual. After carefully completing her bow, she was inwardly afraid the Lady Consort would study her face again, but the Lady Consort appeared distracted and listless today and had no energy left to entertain anyone else.

The novice monks served tea, and everyone sat drinking tea and enjoying the flowers.

The scenery was beautiful, the company graceful and refined, the peach blossoms mirrored in their faces — altogether quite a picture.

While conversation flowed around her, Qin Yao suddenly felt the wind fall completely still against her ear. Every hair on her body stood on end.

A loud alarm rang in her heart. She leaped to her feet and shouted: “Who’s there?!”

Princess Derong looked up in bewilderment. “What is it—?” Before she could finish, several figures in dark robes came walking slowly out of the depths of the peach grove. Every face was masked. Each of them held a gleaming weapon and headed straight toward Qin Yao and the others.

The crowd stared in shock, unable to react for a long moment. Chen Yuqi forced a laugh: “What’s going on?”

Princess Derong’s face changed entirely. She grabbed Xia Yan with one hand and began running. She called out in a panicked voice: “Assassins! Quick — someone, come quickly!”

The rest of the group finally came to their senses. They all gasped and scattered in terror, running in all directions.

But Princess Derong and Kangping’s guards were all posted at the main gate of the temple. These assassins had clearly vaulted in over the back wall of the peach grove — even if Derong’s cries for help could be heard, which they couldn’t just yet, the guards couldn’t have reached them in time anyway.

Qin Yuan was delicate and weak. She fell behind all the others in an instant. Desperate, she ran with everything she had, but in her panic she caught her skirt and fell heavily to the ground.

The sound of the assassins’ footsteps bore down on her from behind. In the next instant she would be snatched up like a small chicken. Her face went pale as ash. She squeezed her eyes shut and flailed her hands wildly, crying: “Father! Father, save me!”

A figure flew in from the side, kicked away the arm the assassin had been reaching toward Qin Yuan’s back. Qin Yuan looked back in a panic, and her face went slack with relief. “Miss Qu!” she cried.

Qin Yao strained to deflect the slashing blade of the assassin. In a forced voice she shouted at Qin Yuan: “Run!”

Even as she spoke, she feigned an opening, drawing the assassin forward into a lunge, then — with all her strength — drove her fist into his temple, knocking him unconscious.

Without pausing, she grabbed the crumpled Qin Yuan from the ground, hauled her to her feet, and ran.

The assassins were numerous. Qin Yao had no desire to linger and fight; all she could do was protect herself. There was little more she could manage.

One of the assassins noticed the situation on this side, but only hesitated for a brief moment before ignoring them entirely and heading straight for Princess Derong and her daughter.

Dragging Qin Yuan, Qin Yao slowed considerably. They had barely cleared the grove when a sharp, piercing cry rang out from ahead: “Let me go!”

Two assassins had seized Xia Yan. One hoisted her onto his shoulder while the other guarded his back, and together they sprinted at speed back along the small path through the grove toward where they had come in.

“No! They’re escaping!” Kangping was furious and frightened at once. She stamped her feet and yelled: “Someone come quickly! Xuenu, Hongnu! Where have you all gone and died?!”

So Xia Yan was their true target all along! Qin Yao was startled. She released Qin Yuan’s hand, gathering her energy to leap forward and gave chase.

But as she closed in, these two men proved far more skilled than the earlier assassin. After only a few exchanges, both turned and struck simultaneously — one palm crashing into Qin Yao’s shoulder, sending her flying back half a zhang.

Qin Yao felt the blood and energy in her chest surge and churn. After struggling for a long moment, she forced herself to rise through the sharp agony in her shoulder, and called out after the retreating figures: “Bullying the weak is no achievement — if you have any real ability, fight me properly before you leave! Running away like this without a fair contest — it’s truly contemptible!” She knew she was most likely no match for them, so she chose to use words to provoke and delay them, buying time for the guards at the main gate to come rushing to the rescue.

The assassins, however, were deaf to it all. Carrying Xia Yan, they ran until they reached the perimeter wall and were about to vault over — when several young men appeared silently atop the wall. Without any visible technique, the two assassins gave a muffled grunt and crumpled softly to the ground.

Qin Yao found the arrivals oddly familiar. After a moment she recognized them — were these not Lin Xiao’s guards?

These men were rare, exceptional fighters; dispatching such lowly thugs was clearly well within their means. Qin Yao finally felt a wave of relief wash over her. She collapsed in exhaustion onto the ground. After catching her breath for a bit, she turned her head to look at the spot where she had been hit, and felt sharp pain both in her shoulder and in her chest. She wasn’t sure whether any bones had been broken.

Chang Rong and the others moved decisively. It took them about half a stick of incense to wrestle all the assassins into submission, one by one. To prevent them from biting off their tongues and killing themselves, they dislocated every man’s jaw, then bound them all securely with five-flower ties, to await their master’s judgment.

Princess Derong rushed to Xia Yan’s side and pulled her into her arms, weeping: “My child — don’t frighten Mother — exactly who is so heartless and rotten that they would use such underhanded methods against us!”

Xia Yan was only shaken, and had taken some surface scrapes when she fell off the assassin’s shoulder, but was otherwise not seriously hurt. She looked up at her mother with listless eyes. “Mother, I’m all right.”

Wang Yingning and the others, having escaped from the jaws of death, felt as if everything before them was unreal — like a different world. Beyond the relief of survival came the creeping of belated fear, and one by one they couldn’t help pressing their sleeves to their eyes and weeping quietly. For a time the peach grove was full of muffled sobs and the sound of quiet crying.

Then a flurry of hurried footsteps came from outside the grove, and someone pronounced the Buddha’s name upon entering: “Amitabha, this is a sin — what on earth has happened here?” It was Venerable Yuan Jue, who had finally come with people to the scene.

“What happened?” Kangping stepped forward and confronted him directly. “Your great temple had intruders and you didn’t even know — and you still have the face to ask us what happened?”

Yuan Jue lowered his eyes and pressed his palms together. “Today’s events were entirely beyond this humble monk’s anticipation, and I bear full responsibility! But our Great Hidden Temple has always maintained strict security — every gate, front and back, has guards posted. How exactly did these intruders gain entry?” He said that no one from outside could easily get in.

“There! They climbed in over this very perimeter wall through the back of this peach grove!” Kangping pointed at the wall, furious.

“All right, enough — stop reproaching the abbot. Everyone here has had quite a fright today. We should notify the households to come and collect the young ladies and leave the rest for the authorities to handle.” The Lady Consort, who had been silent for some time, suddenly spoke up. Her expression was deeply unwell — she looked as though she still had not recovered from her shock.

“Young Lord!” Chang Rong behind Qin Yao suddenly called out.

Qin Yao looked up. From outside the peach grove, a group of people came walking in from a distance. Among them was Lin Xiao — and beside him, a middle-aged man dressed in fine, formal clothing.

The moment Qin Yuan saw that middle-aged man, she burst into tears: “Father—” It was the Marquis of Jinghai.

The Marquis of Jinghai took one look at his daughter and walked in long strides to her side. In a husky voice he said: “Father is here, don’t be afraid!” He pulled Qin Yuan into his arms and patted her head gently for a moment. Once Qin Yuan’s emotions had settled somewhat, his eyes swept over the bound assassins with a cold, steely glare.

Lin Xiao’s gaze fell on Qin Yao. He swept his eyes over her quickly, and saw that she had one hand clutching her shoulder and appeared to have been injured. His expression changed for a moment, and he walked in long strides toward the assassins, using his sword to lift one’s chin.

When he looked at the assassin’s face, Lin Xiao’s gaze went cold. He asked Chang Rong: “They’re all dead, so what’s the point of keeping them tied up?”

Chang Rong was alarmed. He bent down swiftly to check the assassins — and sure enough, every face was sallow, each of them having been dead for some time already.

“They must have taken poison before they came!” Chang Rong exclaimed.

Qin Yao was inwardly shaken. The mastermind behind this had truly left nothing to chance. Regardless of whether the mission succeeded or failed, these people clearly had no way out but death.

“Search them thoroughly — don’t miss anything.” Lin Xiao turned and walked, seemingly without intention, in Qin Yao’s direction, stopping for a moment before her. In a low voice he asked: “Who else was injured?”

Qin Yao was looking down, and could see only the hem of his royal blue robe embroidered with qilin — barely half a chi from her. But at this moment her chest was still aching intermittently, and her body felt so drained she had no strength even to speak.

Lin Xiao was silent for a moment. His gaze rested on the hand Qin Yao was pressing to her shoulder. Just as he was about to crouch down to examine her injury, Princess Derong let out a sharp cry: “A’Yan! A’Yan! Weixie, come quickly and look at A’Yan!”

Qin Yao looked up at the sound, and saw Xia Yan lying limply in Derong’s arms, her face white as a sheet, breathing faintly. No matter how loudly her mother cried and called, her eyes remained tightly shut with no response.

Lin Xiao had no choice but to rise and walk to Derong’s side. “Was A’Yan injured just now?”

Princess Derong burst into tears. “Weixie, who is so vile and despicable as to have plotted against A’Yan with such deliberate malice? If anything happens to A’Yan, your aunt might as well not live either!” She clutched Lin Xiao’s sleeve and wept bitterly, leaving Lin Xiao at a complete loss for words.

Lin Xiao gently tried to console her: “Aunt, the most pressing matter right now is to have a physician attend to A’Yan as quickly as possible.”

He then instructed Chang Rong and the others: “Go quickly and bring several sedan chairs here. Carry the young ladies who were injured back to their residences without delay — it must not interfere with their treatment.”

Chang Rong and the others accepted the order and went to make arrangements.

Before long, several men came carrying a sedan chair and set it down beside the unconscious Xia Yan.

Derong quickly turned to her attendant maids to try to lift Xia Yan, but it was all going wrong — they either grabbed her arm at the wrong angle or let her legs slip — and no matter how they tried, they could not get Xia Yan up properly. Derong was so frantic her face had gone white, and she turned to Lin Xiao with tears in her eyes: “Weixie, help quickly.”

Lin Xiao had in fact been watching Qin Yao’s movements with full concentration. Seeing this, he frowned inwardly and instructed Chang Rong and the others to go and find several more serving women to lift Xia Yan.

But Princess Derong saw that Lin Xiao was still hesitating to approach Xia Yan himself, and wept all the harder, stamping her foot: “Weixie!”

Fortunately, Chang Rong very quickly found several stout serving women. These women were tremendously strong, and with clean, efficient movements they lifted Xia Yan — just as easily as lifting a small chicken — and placed her on the sedan chair with crisp practicality.

As the women raised the sedan chair, Qin Yao happened to glimpse what appeared to be Xia Yan’s hand — below the edge of her sleeve — clenching into a fist. Qin Yao thought she had imagined it. She looked again sharply — and sure enough, she saw Xia Yan’s fist clench, and then slowly unclench, resuming the appearance of a weak, limp hand.