“Senior Brother, exactly where did you and Master go? How could there be jiangshi in that place?” Qin Yao asked, pressing down her puzzlement.
A’Han rolled his eyes upward in thought, then said in his guileless way: “It’s just that small mountain to the west outside Chang’an city — what was it called… Oh, right — Five Oxen Mountain!”
Qin Yao nodded. Five Oxen Mountain…
Wait — Five Oxen Mountain?
She looked at A’Han with wide eyes. “It’s really Five Oxen Mountain?”
A’Han was taken aback. “Yes, Five Oxen Mountain.”
Qin Yao furrowed her brows in thought. If she remembered correctly, there were two small mountains outside Chang’an city — one to the east and one to the west, standing in symmetry, with Chang’an nestled between them. The one to the west was Five Oxen Mountain, while the one to the east was — Wuwei Mountain.
Ten years ago, Master had captured a fox spirit and suppressed it beneath Wuwei Mountain, keeping it sealed for a full decade. But not long ago, for reasons unknown, the fox had broken free of the seal Master had laid down back then and escaped into the sky, making its way back to the Duke of Lu’s estate to cause trouble.
Having barely managed to subdue the fox spirit — and now, Five Oxen Mountain had inexplicably turned up overrun with jiangshi…
She couldn’t help wondering whether these two things were connected in some way.
After thinking for a moment, Qin Yao continued her questions: “What kind of jiangshi? Were they old ones? Were they difficult to deal with?”
A’Han shook his head. “None of them were particularly old — only a few with green fur. The rest were recently deceased corpse spirits with weak spiritual power; they could barely be called jiangshi.”
“Then why were you stuck on the mountain for so long?” Qin Yao asked with a start.
A’Han scratched his head, working hard to put it into words. “First, there were quite a few jiangshi in the mountain. Master and I would catch one and another would run off — we chased them all over the mountain for quite some time before we caught every last one. Second, Master was worried there might be some other great evil lurking in the mountain, so he inspected every corner at length. Only after confirming there was truly nothing else unusual did he come down.”
Qin Yao nodded inwardly. Master must have been burned by the Luo Cha affair — in recent days, he had been taking every unusual movement in Chang’an very seriously, and seemed to want to take his compass and comb through the entire city, terrified of overlooking the slightest trace of any evil creature at work.
That was likely also why Master had refused to descend the mountain after subduing all the jiangshi — not until he had inspected the entire mountain from top to bottom did he finally rest.
“Did Master say why Five Oxen Mountain suddenly had jiangshi?”
A’Han nodded. “He said that heavy rains a few days ago caused a slope on Five Oxen Mountain to collapse, exposing several tombs that had been hidden inside — and that’s what unleashed the jiangshi.”
Lin Xiao sat quietly sipping his tea and listening to Qin Yao speak.
Watching her press her questions relentlessly until she had the full picture, he couldn’t help smiling wryly to himself. He could only hope she wouldn’t, in her curiosity, dash off to Qingyun Temple to interrogate her master — because if she did, he would likely have no chance at all to speak with her privately and present her with the hairpin.
But as it happened, a little while later, Qin Yao made no mention of going to find Qing Xuzi at Qingyun Temple. Instead, it was Chang Rong who came in to tell Lin Xiao that His Majesty urgently needed him and requested he return to the palace at once.
Seeing this, Qin Yao, worried about delaying Lin Xiao’s duties, quickly pulled A’Han up to take their leave.
With no choice, Lin Xiao instructed Wei Bo and the others to escort Qin Yao back to her family’s estate, while he himself hurried back to the palace.
On the way, he reflected: these days, he had the Dayin Temple case to investigate while also overseeing security arrangements for the Emperor’s outing — far too many things on his plate. It would be better to wait a few days until Qin Yao had settled into the academy, then find an opportunity to speak plainly with her and give her the hairpin.
Arriving at the palace, he found the Emperor in high spirits, holding open a register in his hands. The Crown Prince, Prince Wu, Mo Cheng, and others stood beside him, pointing at names on the register in a relaxed and casual manner.
Upon seeing Lin Xiao, the Emperor stroked his beard and smiled. “Weijin, Mo Cheng and the others have unanimously recommended your maternal aunt as the headmistress of Yunyin Academy. What do you think?”
He then called Lin Xiao closer and pointed out the register for him to see.
Lin Xiao saw that the register bore the heading “Yunyin Academy” at the top, with two rows of names carefully transcribed below in neat columns. Every name was familiar — either a noblewoman of great repute or a celebrated woman of talent in the present day — all evidently chosen by the Emperor himself to serve as instructors at Yunyin Academy.
The wife of the Duke of Lu’s name was at the very top of the list.
“The Duchess of Lu was born into a distinguished family from Yingchuan, with an upright family tradition and an exemplary personal character,” Wu Xingzhi said with a smile. “Moreover, she once accompanied the Duke of Lu in battlefield campaigns and traveled extensively across the land. Whether in breadth of experience or in strength of character, she is far beyond the reach of ordinary sheltered ladies. To have her serve as headmistress would be the most fitting choice imaginable.”
Lin Xiao glanced at Mo Cheng. No wonder this man had risen to the position of Grand Ceremonial Minister at such a young age and was so deeply trusted by the Emperor — he appeared forthright on the surface, but was in fact supremely adept at discerning the Emperor’s wishes. For the reopening of Yunyin Academy, the Emperor’s greatest concern was that Kangping would refuse to be managed and would turn the academy into chaos. What was urgently needed was someone who could keep Kangping in check as headmistress.
His maternal aunt had always commanded respect and admiration; her breadth of vision and understanding was comparable to that of a man’s, and she further possessed considerable martial ability, conducting herself with method and discipline. Even the consorts within the palace held her in reverent awe. Sending his aunt to deal with a wayward Kangping was naturally well within her capabilities.
Sure enough, the Emperor nodded in satisfaction. “Quite right — it’s only the Duchess of Lu who can keep that personality of Kangping’s in line. School begins in just a few days; there must be no further delay. Go promptly and convey Our words: regardless of their status, once a female student enters the academy, all are to be treated equally. Whoever violates the academy’s rules must be disciplined accordingly, with no exceptions.”
Having said this, he also ordered Mo Cheng to bring over the drafted academy regulations for review.
The Crown Prince and Prince Wu both noticed the line in the regulations reading “rise at the hour of Chen,” and couldn’t help laughing. “Kangping is in for a hard time now — just that one rule about ‘rising at the hour of Chen’ will be enough to set her complaining for half a day.”
“She wouldn’t dare!” The Emperor put on a stern expression. “I’m sending her to the academy to learn things and develop herself, not to indulge her princess temperament.”
Lin Xiao, however, had noticed the line reading “students are not permitted to go outside at night,” and froze slightly. How had he not thought of the curfew earlier? As Qing Xuzi’s prized student, Qin Yao regularly went out with her master at night to handle matters — if she were confined to the academy, how would she continue her work dealing with demons and evil? It seemed he would need to make arrangements for her in advance.
On the day the academy opened, Qin Yao was up early in the morning. She styled her hair in a simple, low-key double-bun, unadorned with any jewelry — only two ribbons of clear-water blue silk tied around each bun, with matching tassels hanging below, falling just to her ears and swaying lightly with her movements, vivid and graceful.
Qu Ziyu took special leave for half a day to personally escort his younger sister to the academy, with the Qu couple accompanying them along the way.
Since the academy regulations allowed each female student to bring only one maidservant, Qin Yao brought only Caiping. The two of them didn’t have many belongings, and one carriage was more than sufficient. Qu Enze, however, still felt that Qin Yao’s things were far too many and not nearly pared down enough. Though his temperament was gentle and warm, there was a particular stubbornness deep in his character — the kind specific to men of the scholar-official class — and he kept feeling that since his daughter was going to study at the academy, she ought to be plain and unassuming, with no need for so many personal items.
He went on about it the entire way, until the carriage pulled up outside the academy gate. When Qu Enze stepped out and saw the scale of the other female students’ arrivals, he finally pressed his lips shut and said no more.
For the gate was a throng of carriages — even the most modest student had brought at least four. Princess Kangping’s belongings amounted to no fewer than ten carriages, a magnificent procession that had the entrance thoroughly congested. By comparison, Qin Yao’s possessions were a pitiful few.
It was little wonder, really. Among all the officials whose daughters had been selected for the academy, Qu Enze held the lowest rank, and naturally could not match the splendid showing of the noble and marquis households.
Qin Yao paid no mind to any of this, and after stepping out of the carriage she looked around in all directions. She saw the academy’s bright vermillion gate, grey-tiled eaves, and white walls, the whole compound stretching out expansively — imposing, with a touch of solemn dignity. One could tell at a glance that it was the kind of place well-suited to quiet and dedicated study.
Qu Ziyu had alighted from the carriage by now too. He looked around, then turned to Qin Yao. “Once you’re inside, Father, Mother, and your brother won’t be with you. Remember not to cause trouble — but also don’t let yourself be pushed around.”
It was not an easy balance to strike, but he knew Qin Yao could manage it.
Qin Yao smiled and agreed. “Brother, don’t worry.”
Qu Ziyu thought for a moment, then unclasped a jade flute from his waist and held it out to Qin Yao. “This flute was made for you by Brother after seeking out Master Quyin. Your technique still needs refining, and this flute is finely crafted — it should help you some.”
At the mention of Master Quyin’s name, Qin Yao’s eyes lit up. She knew that Master Quyin was a great master of musical arts in the present age, skilled at crafting all manner of instruments, and that every instrument he made was an exquisite work of perfection whose tones lingered in the air long after playing. But Master Quyin was exceedingly proud and temperamental, and rather indolent — in a year, he produced no more than ten or so instruments, and every time one of his pieces appeared on the market, the world vied to acquire it.
She knew her brother’s salary was modest and that he always took care to spare their parents any financial burden — he could not possibly have spent a fortune simply to buy a flute. Most likely he had gone to considerable trouble to obtain it from Master Quyin directly.
She took the flute and smiled so widely that her eyes curved into crescent moons. “Thank you so much, Brother.”
Seeing Qin Yao so happy, Qu Ziyu smiled faintly, but still couldn’t help adding an admonition: “Practice whenever you can. I’ve heard that among the academy’s examination subjects, there is one in music and performance — if you want to graduate from the academy, there’s no getting around it.”
Qin Yao was still turning the flute over in her hands admiringly, nodding repeatedly. “I know, I know.”
Qu Chen Shi cupped Qin Yao’s face gently and smoothed out her daughter’s clothes — already perfectly smooth — with a tender touch, her eyes welling with tears. “Take care of yourself at the academy. Don’t forget to eat, and no picking at your food. If there’s anything you want to eat, just have Caiping send word to Mother, and no matter what it is, Mother will make it and bring it to you.” Qu Chen Shi’s greatest concern would always be her children’s meals — she was terrified that the academy’s food would not agree with Qin Yao’s tastes, and that after a year of not eating well, Qin Yao would waste away to nothing.
Qin Yao patted her chest and swore she would not let herself grow thin from hunger, upon which Qu Chen Shi reluctantly set her heart at ease.
The family spoke together a while longer, until Qu Ziyu saw that the hour was growing late and urged Qin Yao and Caiping to go inside. He also directed the coarse-work women servants who had come with them to carry Qin Yao’s luggage in.
The main arrangement for that day at the academy was helping the students settle in with their bedding and clothing; formal instruction had not yet begun.
As Qin Yao passed through the academy gates, she saw a middle-aged woman of an oval face and handsome features standing in the courtyard, holding a register of names and calling them out one by one. When each person answered, she would inform them of their assigned dormitory room.
Qin Yao listened for quite a while before finally hearing her own name — Room Twenty-Five.
Faced with the vast expanse of the academy, she was momentarily uncertain how to find her room, when a woman who appeared to be a stewardess stepped forward. “Looking for your dormitory? Please follow me.” She led Qin Yao off through corridors and around walls.
After walking for quite some time, Qin Yao finally found herself at the far back of the compound, where she came upon two rows of rooms in the northeast corner — ornately carved and painted, with an impressive air. The doors and windows had all been freshly whitewashed, evidently renovated specifically for the academy’s reopening.
Dormitory Room Twenty-Five was the northernmost room in the second row, with considerably less natural light than the rooms in the first row, and in a very secluded location. One glance told her it would be the kind of place that was cold in winter and hot in summer.
“Miss—” Caiping looked with dismay at the poorly lit room at the far end, unable to conceal her discontent.
Qin Yao, however, was not surprised. She looked up at the number Twenty-Five above the doorframe and nodded quietly to herself.
She had heard that each dormitory room housed two female students, and that the academy had fifty students in all — Room Twenty-Five was evidently the very last one. Her father currently served as Chamberlain, a rank of junior fourth grade, which was, compared to the assembled princes, nobles, and ministers, the lowest of the low. If rooms were assigned according to her father’s rank, it would have been strange if she hadn’t ended up with the last room.
The stewardess stood quietly to the side, watching Qin Yao the entire time, her gaze never leaving Qin Yao’s face — as if waiting to see how she would react.
Yet Qin Yao only paused briefly in silence before turning to the stewardess with a smile. “So this must be my dormitory. Thank you for showing me the way.”
The stewardess lowered her eyes to conceal the surprise in them, gave a cool nod, then turned and made her way back the way she had come.
Qin Yao stood still for a moment, then pushed open the door and went in. She had barely stepped inside when she heard someone complaining: “Miss, why have they put us in this godforsaken corner? Why not let me go speak to Master, have him find a better place for you?”
A voice tinged with laughter replied: “Qingier, do you know what rank my father currently holds at court?”
The sound of boxes being dragged across the floor followed — the one called Qingier seemed to be unpacking luggage, and with some effort, said: “This servant does know — Master is currently a Department Reviewing Official of the Ministry of Revenue. That’s a very important position.”
“Pfft—” The other person could no longer hold back a laugh. “Call you a fool and you always argue back with me. Never mind — even if I explain, you won’t understand. The point is, getting assigned to this last room is no surprise at all. From now on, you’re not to go around the academy making a fuss about how important your master’s position is. If you do, I’ll smack your bottom.”
Qin Yao raised an eyebrow. Interesting — she hadn’t expected her roommate to see things so clearly and with such acuity, and on top of that, to have such an amusing way of expressing it.
Thinking this, she deliberately made her footsteps heavier and said: “Caiping, this is it — have the women servants bring the luggage in.”
Once Caiping had gone outside, Qin Yao proceeded into the inner room.
She had barely stepped in when she saw a slender, delicately built young girl holding a scroll of a book, seated at the desk by the window, reading. At the sound of movement, the girl turned to look.
Qin Yao was momentarily taken aback. The girl was no more than fourteen or fifteen years old, with fair skin and a delicate face full of scholarly refinement. Her looks were not the most striking at first glance, but her eyes were remarkable — bright as stars, full of spirit and vivacity at every glance, lending her entire person a lively, luminous quality.
“Miss Qu?” the girl asked, looking Qin Yao up and down with a puzzled but confirmatory tone.
Qin Yao hadn’t expected her to already know her name. She was momentarily startled, then smiled. “That’s right. And you are?”
“Pei Min.” The girl set down her book, rose, and came forward to meet Qin Yao with a clever smile. “From now on, we’ll be roommates.”