◎ Morning Farewell ◎

It took Li Hongyu calling her name several times before Qu You came back to herself. Looking up, she saw the slender figure standing behind the screen.

Pressing down the enormous bewilderment welling in her chest, she rose to her feet, only to find her legs numb from crouching too long, and stumbled a step.

Zhou Tan quickly crossed over and caught her arm. Qu You held onto him and limped out of the back hall.

Once she’d managed to settle her scattered thoughts, she asked, “What did you find?”

“Three servants at the Du residence have died recently,” Zhou Tan answered succinctly. “All senior maids of Madam Liu’s. Two were implicated in that guard’s theft case and died in the Capital Prefecture’s prison; the third supposedly went mad, was sent to the woodshed, and was dead within two days.”

“So there really is something suspicious going on at the Du residence—that’s a guilty conscience if I ever saw one.”

“Madam Liu had four senior maids. Though the Du household has suppressed the news, we’ve still traced one of them, a girl called Zhen’er, who fled as a runaway servant. The Du household is currently searching for her too.”

Qu You sighed. “And the body?”

Zhou Tan said quietly, “You guessed right. It’s likely Du Gaojun tortured her to death.”

“The Capital Prefecture had kept the body in a cold cellar—thankfully I got there in time, or they might have quietly had it cremated along with others. The coroner did a preliminary examination and found a number of old wounds all over her body. The fatal wound was strangulation marks on the neck, but the coroner says it’s also possible she drowned. Further examination is set for this afternoon; we don’t have results yet.”

Qu You nodded. “I was planning to head to North Street this afternoon myself. Now that we know there’s a runaway servant, that should make the search go faster.”

“Mm,” Zhou Tan said, his hand brushing over the documents on the desk, then suddenly reaching up to remove his official cap. “I mentioned before I wanted to go thank Boss Ai in person. Since we need his help again now anyway, it’s a good chance to combine the two. Come with me.”

Last time, Qu You and Bo Ying hadn’t even managed to see Boss Ai’s face. This time, Zhou Tan skipped the formality of announcing themselves entirely, and led her directly to an out-of-the-way alley off Bianhe Avenue.

Qu You climbed down from the deliberately unremarkable carriage and followed Zhou Tan through the alley. After walking for quite some time, they finally came upon a small, plainly-built courtyard.

The courtyard was enclosed by a crude bamboo fence, and inside were scattered all manner of wooden objects in strange and varied shapes—clearly the owner had a real love for woodworking. A fat cat lay sleeping on a wooden table; seeing people arrive, it didn’t stir, only narrowed its eyes to size them up, letting out a drawn-out “meow.”

As if summoned by the cat’s cry, a boy who looked no more than fifteen or sixteen came running out of the house. He scolded the cat, then came over to open the bamboo gate—his indifferent expression suddenly turned to something almost incredulous the moment he saw Zhou Tan, his thin lips parting as he called out, “T-Teacher…”

Was this actually Zhou Tan’s student?

Zhou Tan gave a soft acknowledging sound and asked him, “Is your Mr. Ai in?”

The boy answered, “He’s napping. But Mr. Su is in the main hall.”

Zhou Tan followed him inside, then paused mid-step. “When did you get a cat?”

The boy glanced at him, an uneasy, apprehensive look crossing his face. “It jumped into the courtyard a few days ago. Mr. Su won’t let me keep it—if you also… I’ll get rid of it.”

“No need,” Zhou Tan sighed, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “Since Boss Ai’s still napping, I’ll go see your Mr. Su.”

Qu You didn’t know who this “Mr. Su” was that he’d mentioned, but seeing Zhou Tan’s grave expression, she didn’t follow him in. As Zhou Tan walked off, she took the boy over to the cat and reached out to stroke its glossy, sleek fur. “So cute. Does it have a name?”

Seeing that she didn’t mind the cat, and in fact seemed rather interested, the boy’s tense expression eased. He reached out to pet it too, saying carefully, “I haven’t named it yet. It’s a Chi Yu Xiao Fei Lian—it really deserves an elegant name.”

They’d barely exchanged a few more words when Zhou Tan came back out of the house with another man, dressed in the deep blue scholar’s robe typical of students. The boy immediately straightened his back and bowed formally, addressing the man: “Sir, I’ve reviewed today’s lessons.”

Something about this man struck Qu You as strangely familiar, though try as she might, she couldn’t recall ever having met him. Just as she was puzzling over it, Zhou Tan spoke first, addressing the man: “This is my wife.”

The man immediately raised his hand and bowed slightly to her in the old formal manner. He carried far more of a scholar’s air than Zhou Tan did, his expression a touch aloof, yet every word and gesture extremely courteous. “Greetings, my lady.”

Seeing this, Qu You lifted the hem of her skirt and returned the bow, casting a curious glance toward Zhou Tan. Zhou Tan, eyes lowered, introduced him: “This is Brother Su, a classmate of mine from the imperial examinations.”

The man added, “My courtesy name is Chaoci. There’s no need to stand on ceremony, my lady.”

The smile on Qu You’s lips froze. She even took an unconscious step back.

Zhou Tan seemed to notice her startled reaction, glancing at her with some confusion. Qu You ignored his look and asked, “Chaoci as in ‘setting off at dawn from White Emperor City amid crimson clouds’… is that the same Chaoci?”

Su Chaoci said, “Precisely.”

No wonder he’d looked so familiar—she’d seen his portrait!

Qu You looked down instinctively and noticed that Su Chaoci’s wrist was, at the moment, entirely bare—without the string of five-colored prayer beads he’d been depicted wearing eternally in the portraits passed down through history. His features were fine as polished jade, his brows sharp and striking; though he hadn’t yet grown any beard, she could already faintly make out the figure from the old scrolls.

Su Chaoci—the incorruptible chancellor who had governed for twenty years after Zhou Tan’s death and put an end to the factional strife of Northern Yin, ranked first among reformist statesmen in historical study… why would he have a private connection with Zhou Tan?

The two of them were famously bitter political rivals in history—during the later years of Emperor Ming’s “Flower-Cutting Reforms,” Su Chaoci had personally transcribed twelve charges against Zhou Tan and sent him to the imperial prison with his own hand, and after Zhou Tan retired from public life, had gone on to abolish most of the provisions of the Flower-Cutting Decree.

Five years of effort, come to nothing. Zhou Tan had died young, barely past thirty—and it was inextricably tied to all of this.

A chill ran through Qu You, and another thought struck her.

Slowly, she turned her gaze to the boy standing beside her.

After Zhou Tan became chancellor, he’d taken on many students—though most of them, dissatisfied with his later actions, went on to switch allegiance to other masters, the number of people who’d once called him “Teacher” still ran into the hundreds. Su Chaoci, who’d served as tutor to the imperial heir alongside Zhou Tan, had never joined any faction and had, in his entire life, taught only one student: Emperor Ming.

Which meant the boy standing here now… was the future Emperor Ming!

If she counted the years, it fit exactly!

The late Emperor Xuan had a thin line of heirs, with only Emperor De as his sole son. Song Chang, later known as Emperor De, had been unruly and unfit for responsibility in his youth, causing several scandalous incidents in the capital right after coming of age. According to fragmentary historical accounts, Emperor Xuan had once summoned his younger brother, the Prince of Jing, back to the capital from his fief—hinting, it was thought, at reconsidering the succession.

Emperor Xuan had governed diligently, welcomed remonstrance, and appointed Gu Zhiyan as chancellor—a man entirely unlike Song Chang. Seeing his own son so lacking in virtue, it wasn’t impossible he’d considered naming his brother heir instead.

What followed was the famous palace coup of history: Emperor Xuan had died suddenly and unexpectedly in the prime of his life, and Song Chang had ascended the throne bearing a supposed edict, then slaughtered the entire household of the Prince of Jing. Qu You remembered reading a paper once by a scholar of Yin history who’d raised the theory that Song Chang had forged the will and poisoned his own father, only failing to alter one detail—the posthumous title “De,” meaning “virtue,” seemed a strange choice for the Ministry of Rites to have bestowed on him.

Though the Prince of Jing’s entire household had perished at the time, his heir’s wife had managed to save the child at the cost of her own life. The Prince of Jing’s grandson had drifted among the common people until, when Emperor De fell gravely ill, he’d appeared bearing the Prince of Jing’s own seal. The Prince of Jing had been deeply beloved by the people in his time, and with both Zhou Tan and Su Chaoci working to clear the way at court, the grandson’s ascension had gone remarkably smoothly.

So it turned out Zhou Tan had known the future Emperor Ming far earlier than historians had ever imagined. Following this line of thought further, if the Prince of Jing’s grandson had survived the coup at all, Gu Zhiyan’s hand might well have been behind it.

Full of doubts, she heard a creaking sound as a door opened nearby, and a gaunt, disheveled-haired man emerged from the house, stretching lazily, saying in surprise, “The page boy said we had a distinguished guest—I wondered who it could be, and here it is Lord Zhou finally gracing us with his presence…”

This, presumably, was the legendary “Boss Ai.” He was considerably younger than Qu You had imagined, looking barely a year or two older than Zhou Tan.

Boss Ai rubbed his eyes, pulled a pair of glazed-lens spectacles from inside his robe and set them on his nose, then his gaze landed on Qu You and he abruptly changed his tune. “So that’s why you wouldn’t come—married a lovely flower of a wife and can’t tear yourself away, eh?”

He and Su Chaoci were tutoring the Prince of Jing’s grandson here, which meant he was likely also destined to become one of Emperor Ming’s future advisors. Qu You bowed to him. “Good day to you, Boss Ai. My surname is Qu. I owe you my thanks for all the trouble over the tower-fall case.”

“No trouble at all, no trouble at all, sister-in-law, please rise,” Boss Ai said with a beaming smile. “I’d been tied up with various affairs, busy with business, and wasn’t even in the capital before, so I never got the chance to meet you. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Zhou Tan asked, brow furrowed, “What were you doing in Jinling?”

Boss Ai said, “I should be asking you that—what finally got into you, coming to see us at last? Hmph, here I thought you’d devoted yourself entirely to your fine official career and would never set foot in this courtyard again in your life.”

The Prince of Jing’s grandson, Song Shixuan, listened quietly to the side, occasionally reaching down to stroke the cat in his arms. Zhou Tan said nothing, but Su Chaoci, frowning, asked, “You still haven’t released this cat?”

“Not yet,” Song Shixuan said quietly.

“A gentleman upholds three principles, avoids four things, and practices nine kinds of careful thought. Do you still remember the second of the four things to avoid?”

“A gentleman does not seek things carelessly—what he seeks must be righteous; he does not act rashly—what he does must be upright,” Song Shixuan answered. “Don’t worry, Teacher, I’ll release it as soon as I can.”

Su Chaoci gave an acknowledging sound and softened his expression. “A gentleman practices restraint and does not indulge in idle pleasures—only then can he hold himself upright. Keep this in mind.”

Boss Ai chimed in from the side. “Oh, come now, it’s just a child’s little pet, no need to make such a fuss. I really don’t understand you people raised in these grand old clans—what kind of childhood did you even have? Xiaobai, are you the same way?”

Zhou Tan said, “Chaoci’s reasoning is sound, naturally.”

He paused, then added, “But Ziqian hasn’t been indulging himself, either—there’s no need to be too harsh with him.”

Su Chaoci said, “You’re always too lenient.”

Song Shixuan, holding the cat, suddenly stepped forward and looked at Qu You. “There’s no need for the teachers to argue. Truth be told, I’m not doing a very good job caring for it myself… I noticed just now that you seem quite fond of animals, ma’am—would you be willing to take it in?”

His eyes were bright, carrying a note of pleading. Zhou Tan glanced sideways and asked, “If you want to keep it, you may, and you can bring it to show Ziqian sometime. If not, I’ll find it another home.”

Emperor Ming was still quite young at this stage, and holding the cat, he looked utterly endearing. Qu You reached out and took the cat, smiling. “Of course I’ll take it. Don’t worry, Ziqian.”

Su Chaoci made no comment either way. “That works out well, then.”

The moment Su Chaoci turned his head, Song Shixuan shot Qu You a sly, conspiratorial wink, then quickly composed himself and stood obediently in place once Su Chaoci turned back—every bit the mischievous young boy underneath. Qu You, amused, scratched the cat’s chin, and it let out a contented purr in her arms.

“I came today for two reasons—one, to offer my thanks, and two, to ask a favor,” Zhou Tan said. “My wife should have already had word sent to you—the case involving Du Gaojun and the Liu family has fallen into my hands. There’s a key witness who’s fled the Du household, and I’d like to ask for your help in tracking her down.”

Su Chaoci led the group inside, settling them around a square table. Qu You glanced around discreetly and noticed a massive map of Great Yin’s territory and its defenses hanging in the main hall.

“That shouldn’t be too difficult—I’ve already found some leads,” Boss Ai said, glancing, deliberately or not, toward Qu You as he spoke. “Once I find the witness, I’ll have her delivered to the Ministry of Justice through the usual channels.”

None of these men yet knew that she’d already worked out the Prince of Jing’s grandson’s identity, so they spoke without much caution, though there was still something guarded, half-veiled, in their words. Sitting at the table, Qu You found herself wondering—why had Zhou Tan dared bring her to a place like this today? Wasn’t he worried she might actually piece something together?

Su Chaoci and Zhou Tan had sat the imperial examinations the same year, placing second overall; the two had also spent about the same length of time posted away from the capital afterward. But Su Chaoci came from a prominent capital family, had never formally studied under Gu Zhiyan, and had happened to be on mourning leave just before the tower-fall case broke, escaping any entanglement. In the eyes of the world, he was still technically observing his mourning period, so his presence here wasn’t especially suspicious.

As for Boss Ai—needless to say, as the hidden proprietor of an entire street in North Street, no one would ever connect him to a Prince of Jing’s grandson everyone assumed had long since died.

Knowing who the grandson really was, this gathering of three men looked to her, frankly, like nothing short of a treasonous conspiracy—but to Zhou Tan, it was apparently nothing more than introducing his wife to some old friends.

Qu You sighed and deliberately steered clear of their conversation, turning instead to Song Shixuan beside her. “Since Ziqian is my husband’s student, let me test you today—if you answer well, I’ll bring you a gift next time.”

Su Chaoci, beside them, raised an eyebrow in surprise. “My lady is versed in scholarship as well?”

Boss Ai called out, “Chaoci, you never pay attention to anything outside your books, do you? Little sister-in-law here used to be famed as the most talented lady in the capital—if she weren’t already married, she could easily have made a career as a lady tutor herself!”

Qu You, smiling, led Song Shixuan out of the room.

Once she’d left, Su Chaoci turned to Zhou Tan. “Why did you dare bring her here?”

Zhou Tan said nothing. Boss Ai spoke first. “That wife of yours is quite something. I already found her interesting when I heard about the drum-beating incident on the Imperial Street—now that I’ve met her, it turns out to be true.”

Then, turning his head, he added, “It was my idea for him to bring her, actually. She was a great help with the tower-fall case before—the women of Fangxin Pavilion say she has a knight-errant’s sense of justice, and hearing that put my mind at ease. It’s a good thing, having someone to look after Xiaobai.”

“She’s not a bad person. I’ve tested her many times, and there’s nothing scheming about her. Qu Cheng has always stayed neutral in factional politics, which is exactly why the Noble Consort proposed the match—she’s certainly no pawn planted by Fu Qingnian or Gao Ze.” Zhou Tan turned the white jade ring on his finger. “I refused this marriage two or three times before—it was only after the assassination attempt that I had no choice but to accept. Look after me? There’s no need for that. Once the right moment comes, it’s still best that we divorce.”

Su Chaoci fell silent for a moment. “You can’t stay unmarried forever.”

Zhou Tan smiled bitterly. “Why not? What you and I are doing is far more perilous than walking a knife’s edge, treading on thin ice—one misstep, and it’s utter ruin. If it’s only myself, so be it, but why should I drag anyone else into it? Before this succeeds, would you dare take a wife?”

Su Chaoci had nothing to say to that.

“Since Song Chang arranged this marriage himself, how could he easily grant you a divorce?” Boss Ai sighed heavily. “When you were attacked last time, Chaoci and I were both terrified out of our minds—and stuck all the way in Jinling besides, we couldn’t even get a physician there in time. If not for your wife, how would you have made it through to today? Before old Master Gu passed, he told me not to push you into anything. I really thought you’d never set foot in this little courtyard again in your life—even asking for my help had to go through your wife. Xiaobai, Xiaobai, tell me, why did you actually agree to come today?”

Zhou Tan answered flatly, “I placed some unrealistic hopes in him, that’s all. Now that those hopes have been shattered, I can no longer deceive myself.”

He raised his eyes. “I have a plan in mind for now—I’d like to hear what the two of you think.”

Song Shixuan was already of an age when ordinary young men would be sitting for the imperial examinations. He didn’t need to sit them himself, but had far more to learn instead. Qu You chatted with him briefly and found that, young as he was, his knowledge already spanned astronomy and the calendar, archery and horsemanship, poetry and verse, and classical scholarship and policy essays.

…Such an elite education—even living in exile among the common people, he was still receiving a thoroughly orthodox royal upbringing.

Most of it, it seemed, had been handled by Su Chaoci, who came from a great capital family and was well-versed in every subject. On the Four Books and Five Classics and the broader canon of history and philosophy, Song Shixuan’s answers grew vaguer—Qu You guessed he’d already learned a great deal of that from Zhou Tan back when he’d studied under Gu Zhiyan, and the title of “Teacher” had probably been settled then, though the world at large simply didn’t know it.

Song Shixuan had also heard about her drum-beating on the Imperial Street, and looked at her with open admiration. Qu You honestly hadn’t expected the story to have spread this far—now it seemed she had to recount it to just about everyone she met.

Once she finished asking him about his studies in history, the two of them sat together at a wooden table under a tree, discussing the finer points of cat-raising. Zhou Tan, coming out of the house, happened to catch Qu You holding up the cat’s paw to explain the difference between “pink pads” and “black pads” to Song Shixuan, who was listening with rapt fascination; only when he noticed Su Chaoci emerging did he compose himself back into his earlier reserve.

Qu You held the cat and took a polite leave with Zhou Tan. Just as they were about to go, Zhou Tan seemed to remember something and turned to Boss Ai. “The man in black you assigned to me—loyal and capable. Where does he come from?”

Boss Ai didn’t answer directly, only saying vaguely, “He’s completely trustworthy. You can use him as your right hand with total peace of mind—just don’t assign him to anyone else.”

Zhou Tan, suspecting nothing, bowed his thanks. Song Shixuan poked his head out from behind Su Chaoci, eyes fixed on the cat, and asked, “Will Teacher come often from now on?”

“Mm,” Zhou Tan said, ruffling his hair, a rare softness flickering in his eyes. Qu You held up the cat’s paw to wave goodbye to him, then left the alley together with Zhou Tan.

As they left, she noticed that though the little courtyard was tucked away and out of sight, it was quietly guarded by a fair number of men—some hidden among the trees, others disguised as street vendors. It was only when Zhou Tan passed by and they gave him a slight bow of the head that she caught on.

No wonder Song Shixuan had felt safe enough to run out and open the gate himself—if someone unfamiliar had come knocking, they likely wouldn’t even have gotten the door to open.

Zhou Tan led her straight into an unfamiliar carriage waiting at the mouth of the alley—not the one they’d arrived in. There was no driver inside; after the two of them had sat for a while, someone finally climbed up and, without a word, drove off.

Qu You scratched the cat’s belly, a thousand thoughts crowding her mind with nothing quite finding words. Seeing her hesitate, Zhou Tan spoke first. “Are you taking the cat back to the residence?”

Qu You finally found something to talk about and nodded eagerly. “Ziqian said the cat doesn’t have a name yet.”

Zhou Tan said, “Then you may name it.”

Speaking of names, Qu You suddenly remembered something. “Oh, right—I forgot to ask Boss Ai his given name.”

Zhou Tan, having noticed her strong curiosity about everyone’s names—she always had to know the full name—thought to himself that her simply telling Boss Ai her surname just now had already been quite the improvement. “Boss Ai’s given name comes from the line ‘whose house sends flute-song drifting unseen through the dark’—his courtesy name is Disheng.”

Qu You nearly choked to death on the spot. “So he’s called Ai Disheng??”

…

What a name for a great inventor.

Zhou Tan, not understanding why she found this so exciting, simply answered, “Yes.” Qu You, suppressing the urge to laugh, buried her face in petting the cat and remarked offhandedly, “This is a Xiao Fei Lian—very fitting, given how much it has to do with you. Might as well call it ‘Xiaobai.'”

Zhou Tan froze for a moment. Qu You looked up at him and said, very earnestly, “Come to think of it, I only ever call you by your full name now, which seems a bit disrespectful. And you’ve never once called me by my given name either…”

No sooner had she said this than she saw Zhou Tan’s hand fly quickly over the cat’s fur, and then, just as he always did, he turned his gaze away and said nothing more to her, all the way until the carriage reached the gates of the residence, when she finally heard him say, “…It’s not disrespectful.”

“Oh—”

Qu You undid her man’s topknot and gathered it back up simply, then, holding the cat in one arm, prepared to step down. Seeing his composed expression, a mischievous impulse suddenly seized her, and she decided to tease him a little. So it was that Zhou Tan heard her draw out her words in a leisurely, unhurried tone, calling him, “Tan-lang.”

Qu You surveyed him with great satisfaction—Zhou Tan’s pale, clear skin might not have flushed, but the tips of his ears had gone thoroughly red. Still, he furrowed his brow and put on a scolding tone, muttering, “Enough of this foolishness,” before dropping the carriage curtain and quickly instructing the driver to turn toward the Ministry of Justice instead.

Nanny Yun welcomed Qu You in through the gate, and seeing her cheerful expression, couldn’t help but remark, “My lady seems to be in fine spirits today.”

Qu You laughed. “Teasing cats is great fun.”