As the lanterns were first lit, Bianjing’s night market was as bustling as daytime.

The wartime curfew previously imposed had been lifted, and this city of red lights, green wine, and intoxicating luxury had returned to its never-sleeping glory.

The lingering, melodious music drifting from Mingchao Hall drew countless passersby to stop and listen, yet those who could actually enter were few and far between.

The words “Mingchao” in “Mingchao Hall” were taken from the meaning “Tonight I listen to your song, one song lingering until tomorrow morning.” Unlike lower-class flower houses, this was a money pit for princes and nobles. What these distinguished guests spent their gold on wasn’t prostitutes, but the performances and songs of pure entertainers.

Of course, before gold, there weren’t that many pure entertainers who remained chaste to the end. When noble guests listened to songs until their feelings ran deep and their interest grew intense, with a wave of the hand and a thousand pieces of gold, they would truly fulfill that phrase “lingering until tomorrow morning” with these talented women.

Huo Liuxing was currently in a private room elegantly named “Common Guest” in Mingchao Hall.

“Common Guest” was another name for the pear blossom. Every private room here was named after a flower, with murals depicting flowers on the walls.

Meng Qufei had called two young ladies to play music—one with a pipa, one with a zither—and asked Huo Liuxing what he wanted to hear.

Huo Liuxing smiled frankly: “Don’t make things difficult for me.”

Whether in Hexi or Qingzhou, there were few such elegant entertainment venues. Huo Liuxing truly didn’t understand these things.

Meng Qufei shook his head, seeming to find the conversation incompatible and quite disappointing. After thinking for a moment, he had them play “Spring River in the Flower Moon Night.” Once the gentle, water-like music began, he said: “Let’s still discuss serious business.”

Huo Liuxing raised his eyebrows, his gaze indicating the two young ladies playing music.

“Don’t worry, both are planted informants.” Meng Qufei poured himself a cup of wine and handed Huo Liuxing tea instead. “If I couldn’t plant secret agents in this place, wouldn’t all my years of carousing in Bianjing have been wasted?”

Entertainment venues that catered mostly to the powerful were centers of information. These princes and nobles said they came for leisure, but many times they also conducted real business.

Huo Liuxing smiled: “Then tell me about what I asked you to investigate a year ago.”

“I’ve been investigating on and off all this year, but still no results.” Meng Qufei threw his head back and drained his wine in one gulp. “Either they don’t have scars on their waist and abdomen, or they can’t imitate your handwriting or voice, or their build is too different from yours, or their martial skills are far inferior to yours. I’ve searched everywhere but haven’t found anyone who matches all the criteria.”

Huo Liuxing frowned.

After receiving that silk handkerchief retrieved from the Duke’s mansion a year ago, he was actually no longer in a hurry to find Shen Lingzhen’s lifesaving benefactor.

Because that handwriting was so well imitated that even he couldn’t distinguish true from false. Someone capable of such skill, if they truly harbored hostility toward him, could completely do more valuable things rather than play such mysterious games.

Only, though not an enemy, this matter still nagged at his heart. Precisely because he was increasingly certain the other party was no simple character, after his subordinates had searched in circles without a clue, he had secretly entrusted this matter to Meng Qufei.

“What about the emblem on the cloak?” Huo Liuxing asked again.

Meng Qufei shook his head: “Don’t recognize it. No one recognizes it. I can’t say about all under heaven, but I guarantee that within Great Daqi, there truly isn’t any family that would dare use a winged tiger as their emblem.”

What was a tiger? The tiger was king of all beasts. The king of beasts with wings added—unless granted by the imperial family, what ordinary household would dare use such an emblem?

Meng Qufei pondered deeply: “I’m not being superstitious, but have you noticed—those two poems on the silk handkerchief seem like prophecies. At first we thought, Hexi has been lost for so many years, where would beacon fires come from? But look now, Hexi has been recovered, the beacon fires at Yusai and Yangguan can be lit again. And this talk of ‘general’…”

“Tomorrow ‘that person’ will grant you an official position. What do you think it will be? I guess it will mostly be something impressive-sounding but powerless, a nominal military rank without real authority. Counting them all, it can only be one of those honorary military positions at court.” He counted on his fingers. “Uncle is a Military Commissioner of the second rank upper grade. Your rank must be below his—that would be Champion General of the third rank proper grade, General of Restored Virtue of the third rank subordinate grade, Loyal and Martial General of the fourth rank proper grade… Ah well, the name doesn’t matter. Either way it’s a general position, which perfectly fits what the poem said, right?”

Huo Liuxing scoffed: “Superstitious nonsense.”

Meng Qufei clicked his tongue and shook his head: “You read all those classics to cultivate your character—how did you not develop any reverence for spirits and gods? Anyway, I think this matter is rather mysterious. Why don’t you go to a temple sometime and draw a divination stick, ask Heaven?”

Huo Liuxing sneered disdainfully, turning his head to glance at the sky outside the window: “It’s about time.”

“What’s the rush? I’ve barely said a few words to you. If you go back this early, can you even make her angry?”

“She might already be heartbroken—your cousin-in-law has a soft temperament.”

Meng Qufei shook his head: “I don’t mean to discourage you, but from what I see, she hasn’t reached that level of attachment to you yet. She’s originally a young girl whose romantic feelings haven’t fully blossomed. Just when there were some budding signs, they were forcibly interrupted for a whole year. If you don’t anger her greatly now, she definitely won’t feel hurt and will reasonably tell you something like ‘visiting the flower house must have been tiring.'”

Huo Liuxing was speechless. He wanted to refute but felt there was some logic to it, so he steadied himself and drank his tea.

Seeing him listless and unable to appreciate the music, Meng Qufei tapped on the table and leaned closer: “Then let me tell you some news you’d be interested in. I have a good idea who abducted cousin-in-law back then and who framed the Xue family for treason.”

——

Once serious business was discussed, Huo Liuxing did stay seated. An hour later, he and Meng Qufei finally parted ways.

Kongqing and Jingmo pushed Huo Liuxing out. Meng Qufei walked alongside waving a folding fan, and in full public view returned to being his wastrel young master self. Seeing a beauty approaching, he reached out his hand.

Huo Liuxing sighed: “Don’t you mind getting rouge and powder on your hands?”

“Well, you can’t demand everyone be like cousin-in-law with natural beauty, wearing no makeup. I’m not as fortunate as you. The concubines in my mansion, competing to outdo each other, paint their faces white as walls. I’m used to it.”

Meng Qufei looked at him with dissatisfaction, closed his fan, and looked around again at the beauties in the hall. This time, his gaze fell on a young man swaying unsteadily by the wooden stairs, his cheeks flushed red.

The youth appeared about eighteen or nineteen years old, wearing dark green brocade robes and dressed nobly, yet he looked quite dispirited. He stumbled and sat down on the wooden stairs, clutching a young lady’s skirt hem and mumbling indistinctly: “The flowers have nowhere to be sent… What else can I… can I give her?”

With singing voices all around, Meng Qufei couldn’t hear his words clearly.

There were inevitably disappointed and dejected people in flower houses—hurt in the outside world, they came seeking “advice” from the establishment’s ladies. He should have been used to it, yet this time he frowned and lightly nudged Huo Liuxing’s shoulder: “Hey, look who that is?”

Huo Liuxing turned his head, examined the youth for a few moments, and shook his head: “No impression.”

“That’s Xue Jie!” Meng Qufei said quietly. “Cousin-in-law’s childhood sweetheart, that maternal cousin.”

Oh, so that was Xue Jie. He’d heard the name for quite some time. But at such a young age coming to flower houses to drink and seek pleasure—he didn’t seem like any upstanding person.

Huo Liuxing curled his lips, completely lacking awareness that he himself was also currently in this very establishment. Just as he was about to smile and pass by, Xue Jie looked over, seemed to recognize him in his startled state, and stumbled through the crowd rushing toward them.

Jingmo stepped forward, blocking in front of Huo Liuxing, bowing his head: “Young Master Xue.”

Xue Jie acted as if he didn’t exist, his eyes fixed solely on Huo Liuxing: “It really is you… Your first day in the capital, instead of properly accompanying her, you come to this kind of place?”

Huo Liuxing sat in his wheelchair with a faint smile: “Young Master Xue is drunk and confused. Jingmo, go look nearby for servants from the Xue mansion.”

Xue Jie shoved Jingmo aside and reached to grab Huo Liuxing’s collar: “I’m not confused! If you don’t want her, give her back… give her back to me…”

Huo Liuxing’s expression darkened: “Young Master Xue, please conduct yourself with dignity.”

Xue Jie’s face flushed bright red. He bent down and grabbed a wine jar from the ground, violently hurling it over.

Just as Kongqing and Jingmo were about to protect their master, Huo Liuxing raised his hand and had already gripped Xue Jie’s wrist.

With a light, effortless motion, the wine jar suddenly fell from Xue Jie’s grip. Meng Qufei caught it just in time: “Aiya, young people have such hot tempers—don’t waste good wine!” He hooked Xue Jie’s neck and forcibly pulled him away, turning back to give Huo Liuxing a look, signaling him to leave first.

Huo Liuxing left Mingchao Hall with an iron-blue expression.

——

It was now approaching the hour of the dog. Shen Lingzhen was painting by lamplight in her chamber. Jianjia and Bailu attended at her side, looking at each other with wide eyes.

Earlier when Shen Lingzhen had asked what a flower house was, the Duke couldn’t bring himself to explain and made up a lie, saying a flower house was a building that sold flowers, coaxing her back to her room.

But what kind of flower-selling establishment would make a father so angry? No matter how naive Shen Lingzhen was, she guessed there must be something suspicious and quietly questioned Jianjia and Bailu again.

The two honestly told her it was a gentle haven where men indulged in wine and women, intimately seeking pleasure with unfamiliar women—doing, well, usually what husband and wife did in their marital chamber.

Then they watched Shen Lingzhen paint continuously until now.

After a few strokes, she asked them whether all men went to such places.

The two shouldn’t have hurt her feelings, but thinking of Kongqing’s strategy of fighting poison with poison, they decided to risk trying it. They embellished their account, telling her that those who went there for pleasure were men of deficient moral character.

Shen Lingzhen frowned and continued trying hard to paint calmly. After a while, she asked them whether the Duke had ever gone.

Young ladies often took their fathers as examples—if their father didn’t do something, they would naturally feel dissatisfied if their husband did.

So the two, not actually knowing whether the Duke had ever been to flower houses, solemnly told her that the Duke, in nearly twenty years of marriage to the Grand Princess, had never once set foot in such places of sensual pleasures.

Shen Lingzhen became somewhat restless. After painting a few more strokes, she asked them whether her husband might have some compelling reason.

Jianjia and Bailu uniformly shook their heads, saying no, the young master went quite happily, and she shouldn’t make excuses for him.

By the hour of the dog, looking at this messy, unbearable orchid painting under her brush, Shen Lingzhen finally gave up. She turned and asked: “So my husband doesn’t plan to return tonight?”

Jianjia said uncertainly: “Perhaps. Maybe he got so carried away playing that he’s staying there overnight. Miss, are you angry? You should be angry. In this situation, you should have a proper quarrel with the young master.”

Shen Lingzhen kept her head down with lowered eyes, saying nothing. After a while, she climbed onto the bed on her own and turned her back: “I’m not angry. I’m going to sleep now. You may leave.”

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Huo Liuxing had returned.

Jianjia and Bailu opened the door for him. Seeing his displeased expression, they immediately withdrew tactfully: “We’ll leave now, Miss.”

Huo Liuxing shot them a deadly look: “Miss? I, her husband, am not yet dead, and your young mistress has reverted to being ‘Miss’?”

Jianjia and Bailu had avoided using “young mistress” during the previous year, not wanting to sadden Shen Lingzhen by mentioning it. They’d grown accustomed to it and hadn’t corrected themselves yet. They quickly apologized to Huo Liuxing.

Huo Liuxing frowned and waved his hand, signaling them to close the doors and windows and withdraw. He wheeled himself to the bedside.

Shen Lingzhen had her back turned, clearly pretending to sleep.

Huo Liuxing should have approached to test her, but all the way back from Mingchao Hall, Xue Jie’s presumptuous ravings had echoed in his ears. Just now the servants’ use of “Miss” had angered him again. His mood was quite foul at the moment, so he said bluntly: “Shen Lingzhen, stop pretending to sleep. Get up and talk with me.”

Shen Lingzhen had long since caught the scent of rouge and powder. While pretending to sleep, she’d hoped he would gently say “I’m back.” Instead, as soon as he entered, he scolded her personal maids and commanded her so roughly. Naturally, all the excuses she’d worked hard to construct for him dissolved into smoke.

She climbed up unhappily: “What does my husband want me to say?”

Seeing her expression—clearly already angry yet still trying hard to suppress it—Huo Liuxing felt slightly more comfortable: “Anything. After a year apart, you must have private words to say to me.”

“My husband just spent time at the flower house—you should have heard people talk plenty there.”

Huo Liuxing stood up and sat on the bed edge, smiling as he leaned close to her: “Angry?”

She shook her head, averting her eyes.

“If you’re angry, say it. Why hide it? You don’t owe me anything.” Huo Liuxing observed her forbearing expression. “Go ahead and scold me a few times.”

Shen Lingzhen looked completely baffled: “I have no intention of scolding you, husband. Why are you eagerly inviting criticism?”

“After what I did, you still won’t scold me. Shen Lingzhen, do you not have me as your husband in your heart?”

Provoked by him, Shen Lingzhen straightened her back and said seriously: “Fine, then tell me, husband—what exactly did you do? Did you… did you consummate with someone!”

Huo Liuxing lowered his head, his shoulders shaking with laughter. He wanted to explain but also wanted to see more of her finally daring to be righteously angry with him, so he gave an ambiguous answer: “Between husband and wife it’s called consummation. What’s done in that kind of place isn’t called consummation.”

Unexpectedly, this went too far. Shen Lingzhen interpreted it herself as him indeed having marital relations with another woman. Suddenly both angry and annoyed, her chest heaving: “Then my husband can go be married to someone else!” She threw back the bedding, about to get down.

Huo Liuxing grabbed her: “Where are you going?”

Shen Lingzhen, not even wearing shoes or socks, pushed him away and rushed to the nearby cabinet, crouching down to retrieve a letter from the bottom layer: “To open this!”

Huo Liuxing looked down.

Oh, it was the divorce agreement he’d given her a year ago.

He said with a half-smile: “You really plan to open it?”

Shen Lingzhen, stared at by his smile until her hair stood on end, forced herself to maintain her momentum: “Yes, I’m going to open it.”

“Fine, then try it.”

Try it, then.

Shen Lingzhen tore open the seal, pulled out the letter, and unfolded it—only to freeze in place.

The letter was clean and bare except for one line of bold, flowing characters: “Shen Lingzhen, want a divorce? In your dreams.”

“You…” In her fury, Shen Lingzhen stared wide-eyed, pointing at Huo Liuxing. “You… this person…”

Huo Liuxing smiled openly, stepped forward to capture that disobedient index finger, bent down close to her, and touched his nose tip to hers: “What about this person of mine?”