Xia Yan accepted the flower ball back from him with a wooden expression and managed a stiff word of thanks.

The Duchess of Lu gave Jiang Sanlang a mild rebuke, then said: “All right — let these children play. Come with us to the outer courtyard.”

Once the Duchess had gone, the tension in the young women’s faces visibly relaxed, and they fell back into their lively game.

When the flower ball reached Qin Yao’s hands, she noticed that the subtle fragrance emanating from it had shifted in some hard-to-place way — it was no longer as strong as it had been before.

They were just getting into the full swing of the game when a young maidservant walked up to Qin Yao, and under the pretext of refilling the wine cup on the table beside her, quietly dropped a small paper ball at her feet without drawing any attention.

Qin Yao took advantage of a moment when no one was looking to pick up the paper ball. She gave it a quick, discreet glance and saw two lines written on it.

The first read: “Reverend Yuanzhen, it has been a long time since we parted at Mang Mountain — are you keeping well?”

The second contained only two characters: “Feign — faint.”

Qin Yao was jolted. Yuanzhen was her Daoist title. Mang Mountain was where she and Lin Xiao had first met. The two pieces of information together pointed to only one conclusion: this note was written by Lin Xiao — or at the very least, written under his direction.

Feign faint. Qin Yao turned the meaning of those words over in her mind quietly, and connecting them with what Jiang Sanlang had done earlier, she formed a hazy guess.

Lin Xiao never acted without purpose. If he was telling her to feign a faint, he certainly had his reasons. The best thing she could do was cooperate fully, so as not to disrupt whatever plan was in motion.

She worked herself into it for a moment, then pressed a hand to her forehead and put on the appearance of someone growing dizzy.

Xia Yan had been covertly watching Qin Yao from across the table all along. Seeing this, she immediately leaned forward with a look of concern. “Miss Qu, are you feeling unwell?”

Qin Yao closed her eyes as though the dizziness were severe. “I feel dreadful.”

Pei Min and the others were startled and quickly moved to steady her, peering at her face closely. “Could she be drunk?”

“It seems Miss Qu doesn’t hold her liquor well,” Kangping remarked, inserting herself into the conversation. “Bring her to one of the side rooms to rest for a while — have some sobering soup brought to her — and by the time everyone heads back to the academy together, she will probably have recovered.”

Without leaving room for anyone to say otherwise, she immediately had her attendants Snow Slave and Red Slave help Qin Yao away, and personally followed along herself.

Wang Yingning and the others dared not go against Princess Kangping, but worried for Qin Yao and could not bear to leave her behind, so they stayed close and accompanied her.

Feng Chuyue watched the retreating figures of Qin Yao and the others with a blank stare. Then her expression abruptly shifted to one of intense agitation. She clutched the fabric of her skirt at her knees, and after what seemed like an inward struggle, appeared to come to some manner of resolution. She picked up the wine cup from the table beside her and tilted it back, draining it in a single swallow.

Because Kangping was present, Qin Yao did not dare open her eyes. She was supported along for what felt like a great distance, and could tell that the path they were taking was quite secluded — very little noise from other guests reached her ears.

They stepped over a threshold, climbed a few stairs, and then the creak of a door sounded nearby as it was opened. A fragrant, delicate scent reached her nose.

Unable to help herself, Qin Yao let her eyes open the barest sliver — and saw beneath her feet that the bricks had given way to dark green jade floor tiles, the kind that noble households commonly used to pave bedchambers. Clearly, they had arrived at an inner room.

A moment more, and her knees met a solid, heavy piece of wood — then the world seemed to tilt, and she was lowered involuntarily into somewhere deeply soft, the surface beneath her smooth and slippery with brocade silk. She had been helped onto a bed.

Wang Yingning spoke carefully: “Your Highness, A’Yao has lost consciousness — I am afraid she might behave improperly once the wine takes fuller effect and cause offense to Your Highness. Perhaps it would be best for you to return to the banquet, and allow us to remain here and attend to her.”

Kangping said coolly: “This princess is also feeling rather tired. There is another resting couch over there — I intend to lie down for a while. The rest of you, return to the banquet.”

Pei Min could not help herself: “Your Highness, a person who has drunk too much requires constant attention — she may well be sick all over the floor. To avoid any such unpleasantness for Your Highness, please allow us to remain—”

She did not finish the sentence. Suddenly came two soft thumping sounds, and Pei Min’s voice cut off sharply. Qin Yao heard the sound and felt a silent shock — had they been struck at their pressure points?

She heard Kangping say: “Keep a close watch on those two. Do not let anything go wrong with our plan.”

Snow Slave and Red Slave answered in unison: “Yes.”

Then came a soft rustle of clothing and the sound of footsteps moving about the room, gradually growing more distant.

Qin Yao listened carefully. There was one set of footsteps — Kangping, evidently. Snow Slave and Red Slave were still in the room.

Not daring to make a move, she lay quietly with her breathing stilled. A long while passed. Then footsteps approached from outside the door — and by the sound of them, heading straight for this room.

Snow Slave and Red Slave quickly moved to the door, opened it, and were just about to call out sharply at the newcomers.

But all that followed was the sudden sound of blows being exchanged, as the people who had come attacked without so much as a word of warning.

Qin Yao lay with her ear tuned sharply to the sounds outside. Snow Slave and Red Slave were not weak fighters, and those who had come were also highly skilled. After a brief, intense struggle, quiet settled once more outside.

Qin Yao was inwardly alarmed, uncertain which side had prevailed — when she heard the door again, and someone new entered.

She quickly shut her eyes.

This person’s footsteps were extremely light. They padded softly to the side of the bed and observed Qin Yao for a moment, then spoke with a smile and in a low voice: “Miss Qu, our Third Young Master Jiang is waiting for you outside.”

Qin Yao could keep up the pretense no longer. She opened her eyes, and saw as she had expected: a tall-faced maidservant standing at the bedside.

Seeing Qin Yao looking at her with skepticism, the maid smiled and explained: “There is nothing to fear, Miss Qu. Once you step outside and meet Third Young Master Jiang, all will become clear.”

If this woman had meant to harm her, there would have been no need for any of this talking — she would have struck already. Qin Yao let down her guard and sat upright in one fluid motion.

She stood, smoothed her skirts, and turned to see Wang Yingning and the others sitting stiff as posts at the table, their faces creased with pain. Remembering what Snow Slave and Red Slave had done earlier, she quickly went to them and unsealed their pressure points one by one.

Liu Bingyu, the moment her body could move again, rubbed her sore and numbed arm with an indignant look. “What on earth was Princess Kangping trying to do?”

Pei Min and Wang Yingning were equally startled and furious.

Qin Yao pulled them to their feet. “Come. Let’s go outside and see.”

Once they were out, Qin Yao looked around and found herself in a quiet, secluded small courtyard — a row of side chambers running along the veranda, evidently somewhere in the rear quarters of the Duke’s residence. The room she had been lying in was one of those chambers.

Jiang Sanlang was indeed standing in the courtyard with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting. When he saw Qin Yao emerge, he stepped forward. “Miss Qu.”

Even as clever as Qin Yao was, she could not yet make sense of all the twists and turns of the evening, and could not help asking with more than a touch of bewilderment: “Third Young Master, what on earth has been going on?”

Jiang Sanlang’s expression was relaxed, and he smiled. “Before just now, I didn’t fully understand what Kangping and her companions were scheming either. But now it is all perfectly clear. Come with me, Miss Qu — I’ll take you to see quite a spectacle.”

Qin Yao and the others exchanged uncertain glances. Seeing that Jiang Sanlang had already turned and started walking, they hurried to follow.

Remembering what Jiang Sanlang had done with the flower ball, Qin Yao couldn’t help asking: “Third Young Master, was there something wrong with the flower ball?”

Jiang Sanlang glanced back at her. “Quite right. Something had been added to the flower ball — specifically to be used against you.”

Qin Yao was astonished. “Against me? But the ball passed through everyone’s hands several times during the game. If it were meant to harm someone, surely no one could have escaped — how could it target only me?”

Jiang Sanlang smiled with contempt. “That drug is a trick commonly used by the northern tribes. Let me ask you: before the game of flower-passing, had you all drunk wine?”

Qin Yao bowed her head, thinking, and answered: “We had drunk wine, yes — but I was afraid the wine might be tampered with, so I didn’t dare drink it, and took advantage of a moment when no one was looking to pour it all onto the ground.”

Then her voice halted abruptly. “Could it be — that not drinking the wine is precisely what would cause someone to be harmed?”

Her expression darkened. What a venomous scheme.

Jiang Sanlang fixed her with a steady look. “This person went to extraordinary lengths to target you. She anticipated that you would not drink the wine, so she specifically devised the flower-passing game as the next stage of the trap. Everyone who had drunk the wine would be unaffected — it was only the one who had not drunk it who would be poisoned.”

A blazing fury ignited in Qin Yao’s chest. She stood rooted to the spot, her face cold and still, saying nothing.

With Jiang Sanlang’s analysis laid out so plainly, the identity of the person behind the scheme to harm Qin Yao was now unmistakably clear.

Pei Min and Liu Bingyu both spat in contempt at the same time: “What a piece of work! And she calls herself a Princess! How utterly shameless!”

Even the usually gentle and composed face of Wang Yingning wore, for once, an expression of open disgust.

Xia Di moved to push open the tightly closed door before him, but just as he reached out, his hand stopped in mid-air. He hesitated a moment, then finally made up his mind and pushed the door open.

For fear of anything going awry, no lamp had been lit inside the room.

Xia Di walked slowly to the bedside and lifted the bed curtain. A girl’s sweet fragrance drifted to meet him — a distinctive, clean, cool scent that he immediately recognized as the plum blossom perfume Qin Yao habitually wore. His heartbeat at once quickened like a drumbeat.

He sat down along the edge of the bed and gazed at the figure lying there, lost in a kind of daze. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he gradually made out the dim outline of the person on the bed — though he could not see clearly, he could still vaguely discern that she had a face of delicate, fine-boned features.

His throat moved. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and touched the other person’s cheek, feeling beneath his fingertips a smoothness and softness beyond description, sending a ripple of tender feeling through the depths of his heart.

He leaned down toward her with longing, and kissed his way forward with careful, deliberate tenderness, until at last he found a pair of full, soft lips. A tingling warmth flooded through him from head to toe. He let out a low breath of contentment, and began to follow the pull of the most primal of desires, losing himself in lingering, fervent exploration.

His breathing grew heavy and labored, entirely beyond his control. As he kissed her, he pulled aside the silken covers wrapped around that delicate figure and drew himself over her, murmuring with tenderness and a faint thread of guilt: “A’Yao — forgive me. I will only take advantage of you this once. After this, I will treat you well for the rest of my life.”

A long time passed.

The storm spent itself, and silence returned to the room.

Xia Di, still reluctant to withdraw, turned away from that warm, soft figure and moved with gentle care, kissing her softly once more, then carefully drew the silken covers back over her to wrap her snugly. He then fumbled for his clothes, which had been tossed carelessly beneath the bed, and dressed himself.

Once everything was in order, a commotion of voices arose outside the door at precisely the right moment.

Footsteps drew closer, the doors flew open, and a crowd of people streamed in.

“What is the meaning of this?” The voice of the Duchess of Lu.

Xia Di smiled quietly to himself and waited at his ease for the lamps to be lit.

Light flooded the room. The crowd that had entered filled nearly half the space — at the front were the Duchess of Lu, Kangping, and Xia Yan, and even Princess Derong was among them.

“What in the world has happened here?” At the sight of the disorder on the bed, both Princess Derong and the Duchess of Lu were shaken, and both cried out at once.

Xia Di assumed an expression of bewildered headache, pressing a hand to his temples and looking out at them with a dazed air. “What is wrong?”

Xia Yan pressed her handkerchief to her mouth in a cry of shock and stared at the woman on the bed. “Brother — did you and Miss Qu just—”

She never finished the sentence. The person behind Xia Di on the bed began to weep, clutching the covers around herself as she sat up, head bowed, her voice full of bitter desolation: “I — I have no face left to live. I—” She dissolved into weeping.

At the sound of that voice, Xia Di’s expression changed. He turned around — and when he saw who was on the bed, his entire body lurched, and he nearly toppled from the edge of the bed entirely.

By now Xia Yan had also recognized that the person on the bed was Feng Chuyue. Her mind went utterly blank. Disbelief in her eyes, she turned to look at Kangping. After a moment’s stunned silence, she bit out through gritted teeth: “You? You actually—”

Kangping, who had at first not dared meet Xia Yan’s eyes, gradually gathered herself as her thoughts fell into place, and her expression recovered some of its confidence. Seeing Feng Chuyue weeping like a drenched ghost, she quickly stepped forward and gathered her into an embrace, then turned to shout at Xia Di, who had still not recovered from the shock: “Second Brother Xia, you behaved disgracefully under the influence of drink and ruined this young lady’s honor — you — you cannot escape responsibility for this!”