Now that Qin Yao knew everything Senior Brother had borne for no reason all these years, looking again at his innocent, worldly-unaware smile filled her with very different feelings — a heavy, aching sorrow.
Noticing that Qin Yao simply kept watching him in silence, saying nothing for a long while, her eyes still somewhat reddened, A’Han made a sound of surprise. “A’Yao, are you feeling unwell?”
Only then did Qin Yao realize she’d let her composure slip. She quickly shook her head and forced a smile. “Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?”
A’Han had never been able to resist good food, and on hearing this his instinct was to nod, but remembering that Yuan Jue had made him a bowl of noodles himself on the way here, and fearing his master would scold him for being gluttonous, he gave a sheepish grin instead. “I’m not hungry.”
Qin Yao could hardly fail to guess Senior Brother’s little thoughts. With a pang of tenderness, she smiled at him and instructed the maids to prepare some pastries.
Once Senior Brother had eagerly settled down to eat his pastries, she walked over to Yuan Jue and bowed deeply to him. “Abbot.”
In recognition of all the hardship and difficulty he and her master had endured over the years, this bow was given with a solemnity she had never shown before.
Yuan Jue had been watching A’Han nearby with a gentle gaze; seeing Qin Yao so solemn, he was moved as well, and rose to press his palms together with a grave expression. “My lady.”
His robes remained as clean and neatly pressed as ever, but his complexion was ashen and his face haggard — clearly, over these past two days, he had not had a proper rest, all for A’Han’s sake.
Recalling how she and Lin Xiao had once mistakenly thought Yuan Jue a scheming villain, Qin Yao couldn’t help feeling a quiet pang of guilt. Somewhat awkwardly, she sat down across from him, and glancing outside the courtyard, found the sky already darkening. Unsure how long she had slept, she turned to the maid standing behind her and asked, “What time is it?”
The maid said, “My lady, it is already the hour of You.”
Qin Yao was startled — she had never imagined she’d slept clear through to evening. Worried her master must be famished, she quickly had some vegetarian dishes brought up.
Qing Xuzi, for his part, had not slept well earlier. Lying in bed, he had worried first that Consort Yi’s people might trace things back to Yuan Jue and discover A’Han’s hiding place, then worried that they might fail to topple Consort Yi in one stroke and instead drag Qin Yao and Lin Xiao down with them. Consumed with anxiety, tossing and turning, how could he possibly sleep?
After dozing for only a short while, he had gotten up early, only to find Qin Yao sleeping so deeply that he had no one even to talk to. Knowing how exhausted she must be, he hadn’t the heart to wake her. After sitting restlessly in the room for a while, he went out and wandered the courtyard, finding this hideout secure and well-hidden, yet nearly cut off from the outside world, making it difficult to gather any news. This only deepened his agitation.
Fortunately, Lin Xiao had moved with great speed, and soon had Yuan Jue and A’Han brought safely to the hideout. He hurried to ask Yuan Jue about the situation outside, and learned that Consort Yi had not yet suspected Dayin Temple, and that all was calm both within and beyond the palace. Far from feeling relieved, this only worried him further. “That poisonous woman has spent all these years cultivating her own power. When the flaw in the academy’s array surfaced last time, how swiftly she reacted — sending men to the academy to kill that very night. Clearly her decisiveness is no less than any man’s, and she must have no shortage of capable schemers working beneath her.”
As they spoke, the meal was served. Aside from A’Han, everyone else — their minds heavy with worry — had little appetite, and after forcing down a few bites, set down their chopsticks one by one.
Only A’Han remained entirely unaffected by all of this, eating with his head down and great delight.
Following on from what Qing Xuzi had just said, Qin Yao mulled it over and suddenly spoke. “I keep thinking about who that Daoist helping Consort Yi lay the array could be. I heard from the young master that, years ago, Celestial Master Li had spoken ill of Consort Hui in subtle, indirect ways before the Late Emperor, which led the Late Emperor to despise her deeply. When the Emperor learned of this, he came to resent Celestial Master Li greatly, and ever since ascending the throne, has deliberately suppressed Daoism and elevated Buddhism. Because of this, in nearly twenty years, no Daoist has been heard rising to fame in Chang’an, nor has anyone been able to move freely in and out of the palace as Celestial Master Li once did. This means that for whoever it is to make contact with Consort Yi, it could never be through open, legitimate means — only in secret. But Consort Yi is, after all, someone confined deep within the palace. What identity could this person possibly be using, to go unnoticed while serving at her command?”
Qing Xuzi said, “When a disciple of the Dao serves at the beck and call of the powerful, what they seek is nothing more than power or wealth. This person has been in collusion with Consort Yi since twenty years ago, and over these years has likely done no small amount of work on her behalf — otherwise, after the incident at Yunyin Academy last time, there’s no way they could have re-stabilized the array so quickly. As I see it, this person has clearly been hiding in Chang’an all along, and quite possibly is hiding right beside Consort Yi herself.”
As he spoke, he turned to Yuan Jue and asked sharply, “That woman may often stay deep within the palace, but you’ve been getting along quite well in the Emperor’s favor these years — surely you’ve had the chance to cross paths with that poisonous woman more than once. Have you really never noticed anything off about the people around her?”
Yuan Jue frowned and glanced at him, but before he could speak, Qin Yao suddenly felt something stir in her mind, recalling an incident. “Last time, at Mount Shouhuai, when the scorpion demon summoned mountain spirits to swarm the whole mountainside and the camp fell into chaos, the young master rescued me up from the cliff, but we couldn’t find any trace of the Emperor anywhere. Fearing he’d been harmed by the mountain spirits, we finally found a small hillside behind the camp, where we discovered the Emperor and Consort Yi standing there perfectly fine, without a single mountain spirit anywhere near them. I thought it strange at the time, but since it never occurred to me that Consort Yi might be the problem, I didn’t think any further on it.”
“Oh? There was such an incident?” Qing Xuzi said. “With so many mountain spirits on the mountain at the time — even if their cultivation wasn’t high, without Daoist arts, there’s no way they could have been cleared away so thoroughly. That person must have set an invisible warding array around that hillside. A’Yao, do you remember who else was near the Emperor and Consort Yi at the time?”
“I only remember the Crown Prince was there,” Qin Yao said, thinking back. “But the hillside was too chaotic at the time — the scorpion demon revealed its true form from underground very quickly, and soldiers protecting the Emperor came pouring in from every direction below the hillside. We were busy dealing with the scorpion demon, and had no time to pay attention to anyone else.”
The Crown Prince? Qing Xuzi and Yuan Jue exchanged a glance. Twenty years ago, the Crown Prince had been nothing more than an infant in swaddling clothes — there was no way he could have laid the formation within a formation at the academy.
“As I see it, this person must have been among those who accompanied the Emperor and Consort Yi up Mount Shouhuai that day,” Yuan Jue’s slow, deep voice came. “And with this person’s level of cultivation, there’s no way they could have failed to sense the evil presence on the mountain, yet they made no effort to stop the Emperor from going up. All of this leaves little room for anything but deep suspicion.”
“Could it be this person actually meant to use the chaos to kill that wretched Emperor?” Qing Xuzi let out a surprised laugh. “That takes real nerve. Could it be that poisonous woman has grown weary of watching the Emperor’s moods all these years, and wants to be rid of him sooner rather than later, so her fake Crown Prince son can take the throne?”
Yuan Jue did not refute Qing Xuzi’s suggestion. “For this person to have abandoned the true principles of the Dao and helped Consort Yi commit so many heaven-defying atrocities shows just how ambitious they are — what they seek is no simple matter of fame or fortune. Unfortunately, because of what happened back then, this person has had to live in secrecy for twenty years, unable to make a name for themselves, unable to openly enjoy their wealth and status. How many twenty-year spans does a person get in this life? They must surely have grown impatient with waiting by now.”
Qin Yao pressed her lips together, saying nothing. Supposing this person really was Celestial Master Li’s mute disciple from back then — when Celestial Master Li had gone to examine the academy’s geomancy twenty years ago, he had most likely brought this disciple along with him. And before they had married the Emperor, both Consort Yi and Consort Hui had once been students at the academy. Could it have been then that Consort Yi first met this mute disciple, and that their collusion began?
She just didn’t know whether this person had killed Celestial Master Li and stolen the array manual before meeting Consort Yi, or after.
And what method had Consort Yi used to tempt this mute disciple into willingly working for her?
After discussing for a long while, everyone fell silent once more. Though seated indoors, they kept their attention fixed on any sound from beyond the courtyard, both hoping for Lin Xiao’s arrival and dreading that he might bring bad news.
Seeing everyone fall silent, A’Han, not understanding what was going on, sat quietly for a while before he began to grow restless. Qin Yao had a maid bring over a set of brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, and asked Senior Brother to help draw some talismans.
“Why have him draw talismans for no reason?” Qing Xuzi asked, puzzled, glancing at Qin Yao.
Qin Yao gazed worriedly out the window at the ink-black night and said to her master, “I’m worried that the corpse Consort Yi used as the array’s eye at the academy might transform into the final demon star of the Dipper constellation — the Maiden Star. I tried several times before to go investigate the academy myself, but with Consort Yi stirring up trouble, I was never able to make the trip. Now that we finally know there truly is a corpse buried at the academy, one that’s accumulated twenty years of resentment, and that it just so happens to be buried at the array eye corresponding to the Maiden Star — it’s clear the conditions of timing, place, and circumstance have all aligned for the Maiden Star’s manifestation. All it needs now is the right trigger, and it could very well emerge to wreak havoc on the world. Unfortunately, Consort Yi already knows Senior Brother is the true Crown Prince from years ago, and has long since cast an inescapable net — we can’t even get back into Chang’an, let alone go to the academy to find a way to suppress the Maiden Star ahead of time. All I can hope now is that I’m wrong, and that the Maiden Star’s location doesn’t correspond to the academy. Otherwise, Chang’an may very soon face a great calamity.”
Qing Xuzi had heard Qin Yao mention this theory before, but moved by what had happened with A’Han and Liu Bingyu, he had spent more of his energy these days on how to break the Spirit-Veiling Array at Yunyin Academy, hoping to find the array eye of the Seven Killers Infant-Binding Array as soon as possible and break it, so that A’Han’s mind could be restored to clarity.
If he could fortunately come through this unscathed, he would take A’Han and leave Chang’an at once, away from this treacherous place, so that A’Han could marry, have children, and live an ordinary life like other young men.
And if he failed, unable to escape with his life, he would not let Consort Yi go on tormenting A’Han — even with his very last breath, he would find a way to break that formation before he died.
Once he had made up his mind, he had sent A’Han to Yuan Jue to be hidden away, but before he could take action, Consort Yi’s people had already caught wind of it and come for them.
Hearing Qin Yao say this now, he inwardly cursed at the bad timing, rose, and strode swiftly to the door, pushing it open and stepping out. Yuan Jue, too, sensed the gravity of the situation and followed close behind him out of the room.
The two of them looked up at the night sky, and caught, just at that moment, the sight of Sirius falling from its place as Venus rose slowly, the stars arranging themselves at strange angles into an ominous, baleful sign — the demon star was already stirring, ready to emerge.
“Consort Yi hasn’t suspected me yet — I need to return to Chang’an as soon as possible,” Yuan Jue said, his expression darkening, as he hurried to the well beneath the large tree in the courtyard, preparing to return to Chang’an the way they had come. “If that person is still using the Spirit-Veiling Array to conceal the academy’s malevolent energy, I’m afraid we won’t notice anything wrong until the Maiden Star has already manifested, and we’ll be left watching helplessly as she brings ruin upon the people of Chang’an.”
Qing Xuzi spat out in furious frustration, “Celestial Master Li was truly senile back then, slandering A’Ling as a star of misfortune for no reason at all. As far as I’m concerned, it’s Consort Yi and that wretched creature too cowardly to show its face who are the true calamity stars, bringing ruin to the nation and suffering to its people! Setting up this formation within a formation purely for their own selfish desires, destroying the feng shui of the Five Elements, turning a place of yin mountains and yin omens into a breeding ground for the Maiden Star — and now with the demon star about to emerge, if Chang’an ends up drowning in blood because of it, those two wretches could die ten thousand times over and never wash the sin from their souls!”
The Residence of Prince Wu
In a courtyard that had been pitch dark, a light suddenly flickered on. Side Consort Kang helped Prince Wu into his robes, seeing him out with eyes still heavy from sleep.
Her cloud-like hair was tousled, her fragrant cheeks flushed, lending her an even more enchanting beauty, but for once Prince Wu did not linger to flirt and laugh with her as he usually did. His face full of worry, he took the heavy cloak a servant handed him, threw it over his shoulders, and hurried out of the residence.
When Xia Yuan heard the news, she threw on a robe and sat up in bed, asking Nanny Liao suspiciously, “The prince just went out?”
“Yes, it looks like he means to head into the palace,” Nanny Liao said. “It seems someone from the palace sent word — I don’t know what’s happened, but the prince had only just settled down for the night at that little vixen’s courtyard when he got up again.”
Xia Yuan sat in dark, brooding silence for a moment, then gave an order. “Send word to my father and mother at once — tell them something has happened with the prince, though I don’t know what, and have them keep watch on the palace. If there’s any news, have them send word back to me right away.”
Sensing this was no ordinary matter, Nanny Liao hurried off to comply.
Prince Wu took only ten guards with him, riding straight for the palace the moment he left the residence. Before he had even cleared the main road in front of the residence, he suddenly remembered something and said to the guard beside him, “Go to the Garrison Command and find Pei Shao. Tell him to gather every soldier currently stationed in Chang’an and await my orders.”
“Yes, sir.”
Prince Wu shook the reins and spurred his horse forward, but he hadn’t gone far before a column of troops came marching toward him, blocking his path completely.
One of his guards was just about to shout a warning, but upon recognizing the riders, fell silent at once.
Leading the column was a man with hair white as snow, yet lean and vigorous, carrying an authority that needed no anger to command respect — none other than the dynasty’s renowned general, Duke Lu. Beside him rode a young general, who was none other than Jiang Sanlang.
“Your Grace?” Prince Wu said in astonishment. Even as an honored imperial prince, faced with such a loyal pillar of the state, he could not help but show a measure of deference.