Outside Yuzhou City.

A carriage passed by, and Shen Ruzhan caught sight of Ling standing alone at the roadside. Seeing him there by himself, she could guess that something complicated had happened.

Because she understood Ling’s capabilities, she was certain he could have kept up with anyone.

In her eyes, if Ling set his whole heart on doing something, there were precious few things he could not accomplish.

By comparison, she felt that even the four brilliant young Qianban officers who had distinguished themselves in the Tingwei Army fell short of Ling.

Green Bamboo, Du Yan. Blade-Washing, Yunjian.

She looked toward Ling, and Ling was looking back at her. In his gaze, Shen Ruzhan saw a faint trace of guilt.

Half an hour later. Yuzhou. The Official Relay Station.

Li Chi and his companions were welcomed into the Yuzhou Military Commissioner’s residence — which was now Tang Pidi’s lodging — while Shen Ruzhan went directly to the relay station.

She had never enjoyed crowds, and the Commissioner’s residence would inevitably be full of people coming and going. When it came to such social obligations, she avoided them whenever she could.

She had barely stepped off the carriage at the relay station when a soldier from the Ning Army intercepted her, conveying Prince Ning’s instructions: a quiet lodging had already been found for her, so she need not stay at the relay station.

The corners of Shen Ruzhan’s mouth curved upward slightly. That young man always thought of everything, and never brought it up himself.

He was like a fool in that way — how many people were there who made arrangements for everyone and thought of everyone, yet never sought credit for it?

The carriage left the relay station again, and after roughly a quarter of an hour arrived at a secluded private courtyard. The estate had originally belonged to a wealthy Yuzhou family who had fled with their entire household to the capital before the Ning Army entered the city.

That wasn’t foolishness on their part. Anyone with the means, who would willingly stay near a war?

Those with the power and the authority to wage war would invariably proclaim their concern for civilian casualties — yet in every great upheaval under heaven, was it not always the common people who died in the greatest numbers?

In truth, those who could flee in time were rarely common people at all.

“Did you encounter someone difficult to deal with?”

Shen Ruzhan asked as she walked.

Ling followed behind her, and with a hint of guilt replied: “No. I simply did not wish to act against that person.”

“Mm.”

Shen Ruzhan gave only a single sound of acknowledgment, then entered the courtyard.

She asked nothing; Ling said nothing more. Both were people who greatly disliked complications — yet both, against all odds, trusted each other deeply.

“Go rest. I’ll come find you if something comes up.”

Shen Ruzhan reached her lodging and turned to say this to Ling.

“There is something I would like to ask, my master.”

Ling spoke with some difficulty in his voice.

“Ask.”

“Why did you summon us here?”

Hearing this question, Shen Ruzhan fell silent for a moment, because it was not an easy one to answer.

Long ago, they had each forged an iron token and told her: whenever she needed them, let the token appear, and they would set out at once.

They had been with her for quite some time now, and yet she had used them for almost nothing.

When they first came, they had been burning with urgency, certain that she had run into trouble — but there was no trouble. After arriving at her side, she gave no explanation, only told them to stay for the time being, and when asked until when, said she was not yet certain.

“Because I am selfish.”

After a long pause, Shen Ruzhan answered in five words.

Ling held her gaze, waited a good while for something more — and when nothing came, nodded slowly: “Understood.”

Shen Ruzhan’s expression remained tranquil, with no outward sign of feeling, yet in truth her heart was far from tranquil. She had loaded too much onto her own shoulders.

The lives and deaths of others. The futures of others. The fates of others.

Lü Qingluan asked: “My master, do you still not intend to tell them?”

Shen Ruzhan shook her head. “I have not yet made up my mind. The reason I summoned them was that the Tingwei Army was recruiting. With their abilities, every one of them has the makings of a Qianban officer. Starting from the bottom and working their way up — once they reached the Qianban level, there would be no more hardship for them in this lifetime…”

She paused, then continued: “Yet that too is my selfishness. I simply thought it would be good for them, without ever asking whether they themselves thought so.”

Lü Qingluan said: “They would understand, I think.”

Shen Ruzhan said: “That is why I have them remain near me — only to let them feel the atmosphere around Prince Ning, to grow familiar with it. Once they are familiar, I will bring it up. If they still do not wish to, then I can only let them leave, to live the lives they want to live.”

Lü Qingluan sighed: “But their true feelings are so difficult to read.”

He thought of the way Ling looked at Shen Ruzhan, and thought too of the way the one who had left — Er — had once looked at her.

Across the street, on the second floor of a teahouse, a man of about thirty stood watching with a complicated expression as Shen Ruzhan entered the courtyard.

His gaze held something that could not easily be named — joy, pain, longing, regret, and beneath it all, fear and guilt.

“You seem to know that woman.”

The person beside him had clearly noticed something was off and asked.

The young man shook his head: “She only resembles someone from my past.”

The one beside him said: “Chu Xu… I advise you to speak honestly. The way you looked at her was obviously wrong. The Young Master values you because you have skill, but what he values more is loyalty. This woman is one of the Young Master’s targets — you should be grateful for this opportunity to prove yourself. If you…”

The man had not finished speaking when Chu Xu turned and walked away.

As he turned, his long hair swept outward — and the man who had still been speaking fell abruptly silent.

Where the hair had swept across, a red line appeared on his neck. Perfectly straight. Very shallow.

Killing a man here in plain sight — this person called Chu Xu seemed utterly without hesitation.

Two subordinates stepped forward, silently propping up the corpse. One of them opened a deerskin pouch, drew out a needle and thread, and worked with extraordinary speed — in mere moments had sewn the wound closed, then wrapped the neck in a bandage.

The slain man’s wound had been sealed before the blood even had time to surge and spill.

Then the two men took the corpse downstairs by the arms, and from the outside the body appeared only pale — not yet stiff.

Chu Xu stepped outside and looked once more at that courtyard, the meaning in his gaze growing ever more layered.

“If you dare lay a hand on her, you know what will happen.”

Someone spoke from nearby, as if appearing from nowhere.

Chu Xu turned and looked at the speaker.

“Ling… you know I would never move against her. But you also know I have no particular feeling for any of you.”

Chu Xu’s tone carried a slight edge of coldness: “I allow you to approach only because when I left, it was you who walked with me for a stretch.”

Ling’s voice was equally cold: “Then you should also know I have no particular feeling for you either. Walking with you was pity, nothing more.”

Chu Xu laughed aloud, and when he looked at Ling his eyes had reddened slightly: “All the better. When it comes to blows between us, neither of us will hold back.”

Ling turned and began walking back, speaking as he went: “You know my nature.”

Chu Xu watched him disappear into the distance and gave a slow nod, murmuring to himself: “No one knows your nature better than I do. You appear lazy, without ambition — that is only a facade… Every person creates a label for themselves. You are no different.”

Another hour passed.

Outside Yuzhou City. The Osmanthus Villa.

When Chu Xu entered, he saw the man called Qiu Bo standing in the courtyard, while the Young Master was on the veranda watering flowers.

“Chu Xu, where have you been?”

As soon as Qiu Bo saw Chu Xu come in, he asked at once.

Chu Xu looked at Qiu Bo and for some reason his gaze held a trace of pity — though very faint, because in his eyes, the life and death of others had nothing to do with him.

Seeing that Chu Xu paid him no attention, Qiu Bo asked with some irritation: “I am speaking to you.”

Chu Xu still paid him no mind, brushed past him, walked to the foot of the veranda and bowed slightly: “I found her.”

Qiu Bo demanded furiously: “Found what?!”

Changsun Wuyou paused her watering hand in midair and turned to look at Qiu Bo: “Qiu Bo, is there nothing you wish to say to me?”

Qiu Bo’s expression shifted noticeably.

Chu Xu said with a smile: “Followed and then captured alive by someone, then released again… You were a renowned figure in the jianghu decades ago. Was all of that a sham?”

Qiu Bo immediately turned to Changsun Wuyou: “Young Master, that person… that person meant no harm.”

“Qiu Bo… you should return to Jingzhou.”

Changsun Wuyou said: “The matters in your hands — hand them over to Chu Xu.”

Qiu Bo’s eyes filled with bitter grief: “Young Master, I have served the Changsun family for thirty years and have never had a disloyal thought…”

His words were cut off by Changsun Wuyou: “I know that, Qiu Bo. If not for your loyalty to the Changsun family, you should know — for the sake of letting more people survive, how I ought to deal with you.”

Qiu Bo slowly exhaled, and bowed: “Understood, Young Master. I will leave Yuzhou and return first thing tomorrow morning.”

Changsun Wuyou gave a small nod: “Going back will be for the best. Take care of the household for me — they cannot do without you there.”

Qiu Bo said: “Young Master, I made a mistake and am willing to accept whatever punishment you see fit. But Young Master, this man’s origins are unknown — he should not be trusted with important duties.”

Chu Xu said with a smile: “You talk too much.”

He smiled as he said it, yet even his laughter carried a certain chill.

Changsun Wuyou said: “Qiu Bo, please do not ask any more about matters here. Go and pack your things.”

Qiu Bo could only sigh at length, helpless.

The next morning, Qiu Bo packed his belongings and left the villa. At the gate he turned back for one last look. No one had come to see him off.

In that moment, something ached in Qiu Bo’s heart.

It seemed like people shouldn’t be this way with each other, and yet perhaps it was not so wrong either.

“Hey!”

Just then, from behind a large boulder by the road, Pei Lang came bounding out like a three-hundred-pound child: “Old man, I came to see you off.”

The corners of Qiu Bo’s mouth lifted, and his eyes grew slightly wet.

“Pei Lang, protect the Young Master well. I always felt that Chu Xu is trouble.”

“Old man, don’t worry. I’ll absolutely protect the Young Master — you take care on the road. Once you’re home, rest up, and when we get back, make us that braised fish of yours.”

Qiu Bo smiled: “Deal!”

He gave Pei Lang a slap on the belly: “I’m counting on you, big fellow.”

Pei Lang grinned, looking a bit silly and simple.

One hour later. The villa.

Two men came sprinting in from outside, ran all the way to the study door, and bowed to Changsun Wuyou inside: “Young Master — Qiu Bo… is dead.”

Changsun Wuyou’s head snapped up.

“Where?!”

She asked at once.

“Found less than ten li from the villa. Struck through the temple. The weapon used was… was Qiu Bo’s own plum-blossom throwing darts.”

Changsun Wuyou’s body swayed slightly, and she had to grip the edge of the table to steady herself.

“Bring him back.”

“Already done. He is in the front courtyard now.”

Changsun Wuyou strode out and ran toward the front courtyard.

By the side of the courtyard, near the fish pond, Chu Xu stood holding a handful of fish food and smiled to himself.

Speaking as if to no one: “What is there to mourn about someone like that dying?”

He continued murmuring to himself as he scattered the fish food into the pond.

“Fools are best dead. Otherwise they drag others down with them.”

—