Qin Yao heard her master’s voice and hastily swept away the few vengeful ghosts before her in quick succession, then turned and ran to the corner of the wall, asking, “Master?”

Qing Xuzi could no longer make a scene, so he held his tongue and let Lin Xiao lead him into the academy.

With that, there was no way for Lin Xiao to avoid alerting Madam Lu Guogong.

Madam Lu Guogong soon received word from a servant and came out leaning on a maid’s arm. Fortunately, she had only just returned from Kang Ping’s wedding feast and had not yet gone to bed. At the sight of Qing Xuzi, she was startled, and quickly asked, “Weijin, what’s happened?”

Lin Xiao stepped forward and explained a few words in a low voice.

Because of the fox-spirit incident, Madam Lu Guogong had dealt with Qing Xuzi several times before and had great faith in his Daoist skill. Hearing that there was yin energy inside the academy, she could not help frowning inwardly — no wonder so many students had lately grown listless about their meals, and some had even gone home claiming illness. She had simply assumed it was the changing of the seasons unsettling the children’s qi and blood, never imagining it was actually the work of wandering spirits.

“Then I must trouble you, Daoist Master.” Madam Lu Guogong stepped down from the stairs and, smiling, bowed to Qing Xuzi.

She then ordered several female officials behind her to go pass word through the dormitories, telling the students to stay in their rooms and not come out without permission.

The female officials received the order and went to deliver the message.

Walking at the very back was none other than Female Official Lu, the one who had given Qin Yao trouble before. As she passed by Lin Xiao, whether from guilt or fear, she kept her head bowed low against her chest, as if afraid he might recognize her.

Since most of the wandering spirits roaming the grounds had only weak spiritual power, and the rare one or two that had lingered for many years were still not difficult to handle, by the time Qing Xuzi came in, A’Han and Qin Yao had already cleared out the whole lot of wandering souls in the academy.

“Master.” Having finished the work, the two fellow disciples ran up to their master, one after the other.

Liu Bingyu had been following A’Han closely, never leaving his side, but the moment A’Han saw his master, he forgot about her entirely.

Liu Bingyu was left standing there alone. She watched A’Han’s retreating back with a wronged expression, and seeing he had no intention of turning to look at her, while Pei Min over there had already begun eyeing her with a teasing look, she felt too embarrassed to keep standing there and reluctantly shuffled over to stand beside Wang Yingning and Pei Min.

On the other side, Qin Yao asked her master curiously, “Why did you come too?”

Qing Xuzi had no time to answer Qin Yao’s question; he hurried instead to sweep the garden once more left and right, and only after confirming no evil thing had been missed did he reply, “Your senior brother and I were passing by and noticed something was off, so we thought we’d come in and have a look.”

Hearing this, A’Han showed a flicker of surprise, as if about to argue, but Qing Xuzi shot him a fierce glare that cut him off cold.

Qin Yao and Lin Xiao, being as sharp as they were, exchanged a quick glance — judging from their master’s manner, he was most likely lying. But both of them knew Qing Xuzi’s temper too well to press him further, and so they pretended not to notice.

Qing Xuzi stroked his beard and looked around for a moment, then turned and spotted a towering old tree in the courtyard. All at once he gathered his qi and leapt up onto it, standing at the very top of the branches to look down over the whole academy.

Qin Yao found this even stranger and could not help tilting her head back to ask, “Master, is there something wrong with the academy itself?”

Qing Xuzi did not linger long on the tree. After walking a circle along the branches, he leapt back down and asked Lin Xiao, “Young Master, this humble Daoist has heard that twenty years ago the late Emperor ordered Yunyin Academy closed. Do you happen to know the reason why?”

Twenty years ago? Qin Yao looked over at Lin Xiao — twenty years ago he had not even been born yet. Even if he knew something about it, it must have been something he’d heard from others afterward, and he had never liked chasing rumors or spreading hearsay; on uncertain matters he generally said little.

Sure enough, Lin Xiao said, “All I know is that my Imperial Grandfather suddenly issued an edict closing the academy, and the students were dismissed overnight. The exact reason, I don’t know either.”

Qing Xuzi nodded, stood for a moment, then turned and strode off across the garden once more. Qin Yao paid close attention to her master’s footwork and noticed he walked three steps east, paused one step, then turned sideways and walked three steps west, paused one step.

In less than the time it takes for half a stick of incense to burn, he had already walked through all eight positions — Li, Dui, Zhen, Xun, Qian, Kun, Gen, and Kan.

Qin Yao watched closely; her master did not miss a single step — what he was using was precisely the forward-and-reverse Four Symbols step.

She looked around the academy in astonishment. Could it be that the academy’s feng shui had been altered for some reason, drawing in all these vengeful spirits?

Qing Xuzi finished the circuit, the confusion on his face not lessening in the least. He stopped where he was, pondered blankly for a while, then suddenly thought of something and turned back to ask Lin Xiao, “Young Master, do you remember which year it was that the late Emperor ordered Nanyuan Marsh to be built?”

Nanyuan Marsh? This time Qin Yao could not follow her master’s train of thought at all. Wasn’t Nanyuan Marsh the very waterway through which the corpses under the Jade Corpse’s command had once swum into Chang’an from the Canghen River on Wuniu Mountain? She remembered that her senior brother had also been taken by the Jade Corpse at Nanyuan Marsh. But what did that have to do with the academy?

Lin Xiao thought for a moment before answering, “If I remember correctly, it should have been the twenty-third year of the Yuanfeng era.”

“So that would be twenty years ago?” Qing Xuzi counted on his fingers, and his old face suddenly lit up.

“Yes.” Although Lin Xiao had no idea what Qing Xuzi was getting at, he still gave a definite answer.

Qin Yao finally could not bear being ignored by her master any longer and could not help walking up beside him, looking at him as she asked, “Master, what is really going on?”

Qing Xuzi turned his head and saw Qin Yao looking at him with a face full of confusion. He kept his expression stern and said, “It’s not that I’m trying to be mysterious — I myself haven’t figured it out yet. Even if I told you now, I couldn’t make heads or tails of it for you.”

Qin Yao asked suspiciously, “Is that really so? Then why did you suddenly use the Four Symbols step just now? Did you find something in the academy?”

Embarrassed and angered, Qing Xuzi raised his hand and gave Qin Yao a sharp knock on the head. “How dare a disciple question her master’s words? When I say I don’t know, I don’t know!”

Qin Yao’s snow-white forehead immediately turned red. Lin Xiao watched, his heart aching for her, but a master disciplining a disciple was only natural, and he truly had no standing to criticize Qing Xuzi. All he could do was step forward and pull Qin Yao behind him, so she wouldn’t be scolded again.

Qing Xuzi knew he was in the wrong. With a sweep of his eyes, he saw Qin Yao hiding behind Lin Xiao, lips pouting high, her whole face full of grievance, rubbing the sore spot on her head without pause. He gave a heavy harrumph and softened his tone. “You and your senior brother set up a Six Harmonies Array around the academy right now, to keep any more wandering spirits from drifting in.”

Qin Yao murmured a quick “mm” — not daring to sulk at her master — and hurried out from behind Lin Xiao, took out talismans, and began drawing them along the academy’s outer perimeter.

By the time the array was set, the Hour of Zi had already passed.

Qing Xuzi led his two disciples on another sweep through every corner of the academy, and finding indeed nothing had slipped through, he hesitated a moment before suddenly saying to Lin Xiao, “Young Master, the academy has now been thoroughly cleared, but there’s no guarantee some deeper-cultivated malevolent ghost won’t yet break through the Six Harmonies Array. This humble Daoist may need to come back in the days ahead to investigate further. I wonder, will the Young Master’s men treat us as intruders again, as they did tonight?”

Qin Yao was mildly surprised — was her master roundaboutly asking Lin Xiao to issue them a “pass”?

Sure enough, Lin Xiao did not answer right away. Although Yunyin Academy was, in name, no different from any other academy in Chang’an, since most of its students were daughters of princes and high officials — even several imperial princesses and commandery princesses — its security had always been tight, and outsiders were not easily let in.

Now that evil spirits had gotten into the academy, dealing with them was certainly possible, but it would need to be someone personally appointed by his Imperial Uncle to perform the rites — someone like the Imperial Preceptor Yuan Jue — rather than a common Daoist volunteering himself.

Qin Yao understood this reasoning too. Seeing Lin Xiao stay silent for so long, she had assumed he would flatly refuse, but to her surprise he nodded and said, “Very well, I’ll give the order right away.”

Qing Xuzi had been watching Lin Xiao intently, and on hearing this he secretly let out a breath of relief. “In that case, we’ll come back in a day or two. If nothing is amiss, we won’t trouble the Young Master again after that.”

Lin Xiao said, “There’s no need for such courtesy, Daoist Master.”

On the way back, Qin Yao asked Lin Xiao, “What Master asked just now wasn’t really reasonable — you didn’t have to agree. What if someone exaggerates the story and it reaches the Emperor’s ears? Wouldn’t it be better if I just came to the academy every day to check, and dealt with any evil spirits myself?”

Lin Xiao pulled her into his arms and felt at the red mark on her forehead. Finding it hadn’t swollen, only reddened a little, he relaxed and said, “I’ll go into the palace first thing tomorrow morning and let the Emperor know a little about this — to make sure everything is brought into the open, so there’s no chance for anyone to find fault with it later. Besides, the Daoist Master has been like a dragon showing only glimpses of himself lately — now that he’s finally taken an interest in the academy, it wouldn’t be right for us juniors to go against him. Better to go along with it and lend the old man a hand. This way, even if there’s something off about what the Daoist Master is up to, you won’t be the last to find out.”

Qin Yao thought it over carefully, following Lin Xiao’s words, and understood: on the surface he spoke as if planning on their master’s behalf, but in fact he had grown suspicious of what their master was doing, and meant to probe around it some other way. She gave him a sidelong glance and said, “You’re really wicked. Master may have a fierce temper, but he’s certainly not foolish — he might not let you find out what he’s investigating at all, and could just as easily drop the whole matter halfway through. We’d offend him for nothing, and on top of that bring a scolding down on ourselves.”

Lin Xiao sighed. “This wife of mine is good in every way — except she’s too clever. There’s no hiding anything from her.”

Qin Yao burst out laughing and pinched him at the waist. “Now is that a compliment or a complaint?”

After laughing for a moment, Lin Xiao caught her hand again and said seriously, “What you said to me the other day made sense. Too many strange things have happened in Chang’an over the past year, and if we leave it unchecked, it might turn into real disaster — better to take precautions early. It’s just that the man I sent to look into Yuan Jue’s background still hasn’t returned to Chang’an. Seeing that the Daoist Master seems to be an old acquaintance of his, I thought I’d start from that angle instead, hoping it might turn up something about Yuan Jue’s past.”

Qin Yao blinked, then asked, “What have you found out so far?”

Lin Xiao shook his head. “For now, all I know is that Yuan Jue entered Dayin Temple at the age of twenty, becoming a disciple of the former abbot Huishen. Because he showed remarkable insight, he stood out among the other disciples and won Huishen’s deep regard. When Huishen passed away, he left the abbot’s mantle to him. Some years later, when a plague was raging, my Imperial Uncle went out of the city to inspect the distribution of porridge to the disaster victims. Since he traveled incognito with only a small escort, he was ambushed just after leaving the city — and as it happened, Yuan Jue was nearby handing out porridge and threw himself in the way of an arrow meant for my Imperial Uncle. After my Imperial Uncle was safely out of danger, seeing that Yuan Jue had risked his life for the realm and was, moreover, strikingly impressive in bearing, he took it upon himself to elevate Dayin Temple. Yuan Jue, for his part, was extremely skilled at winning favor, and soon moved as easily as a fish in water among Chang’an’s powerful and noble circles. Dayin Temple’s fortunes grew ever more prosperous as a result, until it became the foremost temple in Chang’an today.”

Qin Yao asked, puzzled, “Then is Yuan Jue’s life before those twenty years simply a blank?”

Lin Xiao said, “On the surface, there are records, of course. Yuan Jue claims to be from Qingzhou. Both the records of the Qingzhou prefecture and his own account agree that he was once a poor scholar from a humble household with no family of his own, and that after repeatedly failing the imperial examinations and having no way to support himself, he took refuge in monastic life. The Qingzhou prefecture’s records of his several examination attempts can all be found, clear and exact, and would be extremely hard to falsify. That’s exactly why the man I sent still hasn’t reported back — it seems uncovering the truth of Yuan Jue’s past will take no small effort.”

Qin Yao frowned as she listened, as though a thick fog had suddenly risen before her — and just when she finally managed to part one layer of it, she found there were still ranges upon ranges behind it, the truth forever out of sight beyond the mist.

Seeing Qin Yao’s expression turn unhappy, Lin Xiao comforted her. “At least now we’re no longer as completely in the dark as before. Going forward, we’ll always have a step ahead of others.”

Qin Yao nodded, knowing that many things in this world could not be solved in a single stroke and required patience to wait out, because time not only brought the truth, but also the answers to solving problems.

She leaned back against Lin Xiao’s chest, breathing in the faint scent of wine on him, and suddenly remembered the pair of shoes he had shown her earlier. She couldn’t help asking, “Oh, that reminds me — I forgot to ask you earlier. On Shouhuai Mountain that day, besides Chen Yuqi, two other people changed their shoes. You found one of those pairs — what about the other one?”

“It hasn’t been found.” Lin Xiao’s face darkened. After a moment of silence, he said, “As you said, it hadn’t rained that day on Shouhuai Mountain. Whoever’s shoes got muddy enough to need changing very likely went up to the cliff that night. As for why only one person discarded her shoes along the way, it’s most likely because that person had some reason she had no choice but to do so, while the other one may have had more freedom of movement — or perhaps simply didn’t think anyone would suspect her, and so saw no need to.”

At the Residence of the Duke Wei

Night had grown late, and since Xia Yuan had always been sensitive to cold, the underfloor heating had been lit early.

Coming out of the bathing room, Xia Yuan went straight to bed. Her maid Leng Xiang tucked the bedding in around her and said with a smile, “The Princess’s wedding today made for such a lively day at the Consort’s residence.”

Seeing that Xia Yuan’s expression seemed calm enough, she lowered her voice further. “I heard from Fu Sheng that the Young Master drank several pots of wine at the table with the Crown Prince and His Highness Prince Wu. Fu Sheng said the Young Master looked in unusually high spirits, drinking cup after cup — I just don’t understand why Consort Feng marrying the Princess would make the Young Master so happy.”

Xia Yuan’s gaze stilled for an instant, and the hand resting outside the covers tightened without her noticing. She still did not respond.

Leng Xiang, reading her expression, dared not say more and was about to slip quietly away when Nuan Xiang came in carrying a small bundle. She opened it to reveal a pair of pink satin peony-embroidered shoes with upturned toes, thoroughly caked in mud, each adorned with large jade beads. Looking utterly puzzled, she asked Xia Yuan, “Commandery Princess, this pair of shoes was sent over earlier by Old Madam Gongsun from the laundry room. She said that if these shoes are to be thrown away, the shoes themselves are no great loss, but it would be a pity to waste the jade beads, and she asked me to come ask you — should the beads be taken off?”

Xia Yuan turned her head to look at the shoes in Nuan Xiang’s hands. Her gaze lingered on them for a moment, as if some pleasant thought had occurred to her, and the corners of her mouth lifted slightly. She said gently, “You’re right, it would be a pity to throw them out. Why don’t I just give them to you instead.”

Nuan Xiang had not expected this at all, and was so delighted that she thanked her again and again — after all, even noble ladies in the palace might wear shoes of such craftsmanship only a few times a year, let alone ones with jade beads on top. She might not wear them in ordinary times, but when she married one day, she would surely have the chance to wear them at least once.