Li Jingyun stood frozen in place.

He knew Yin Huayue was prickly and stubborn to the bone, but he hadn’t expected her to actually abandon him and walk off on her own. She was at least nominally his attendant — since when did a servant just leave her master standing alone in the woods?

He turned back, disbelieving, but the trees stood dense and silent, their leaves without a sound, and her figure was already nowhere to be seen.

The fire in his chest burned hotter. Li Jingyun strode forward, intending to drag back this servant girl who didn’t know her place and neglected her master, and give her a proper beating.

But in the years he’d come to the hunting grounds before, he’d always headed straight up the mountain and rarely lingered near the game lodge. His emotions had sent him wandering in circles just now, and he hadn’t taken note of the way he’d come. Walking back now, he’d gone only a few steps before he froze.

The tree trunks all looked the same, and the flowers and grass scattered about held nothing distinctive. Which way should he go?

He narrowed his eyes, picked a direction at random, and decided he’d just walk out of the grove first and see.

As it turned out, he walked for a full hour.

Wind rustled the leaves, birds and beasts called in the distance, and as Li Jingyun looked at the increasingly unfamiliar woods, his expression grew grave.

This place was never particularly safe to begin with — wolves and leopards lurking in the shadows were already troublesome enough, and if he were caught alone by someone with ill intentions, that would spell real trouble.

Just as he was thinking this, a sudden sound came from behind him.

His expression tightened, and with lightning reflexes he flicked the soft blade from his sleeve. The blade whipped out like a silver snake’s tail, three feet in a single “swish,” slicing a falling leaf clean in two. His sleeve billowed, kicking up sand-laden wind, and he pointed the blade fiercely toward the source of the sound —

Huayue, a huge bundle on her back, stared at him in shock, the loose strands at her temples blown wild by the sudden gust of killing intent, her amber pupils shrinking to pinpricks.

“…”

The sharp, predatory look in his eyes paused, then receded like ink dispersing in water. Li Jingyun closed his eyes, opened them again, and bellowed at her, full of irritation: “Are you a wildcat or a field mouse, scurrying around without a sound?”

Huayue stood there dazed, still not quite recovered. Stiffly she set down the large armful of things she’d been carrying in front of him, then pulled an oil-paper package from her sleeve and handed it to him.

Li Jingyun took it, brimming with confusion, only to watch her pull out another oil-paper package, a plaster, and a bamboo tube.

Moving house, was she? He looked at her with utter disdain, his lingering anger unresolved as he opened the oil-paper package in his hand.

A bag of preserved fruit from Jing’an Hall.

His dark pupils paused for a moment, and the surging anger finally receded by two parts. Li Jingyun said irritably, “What’s this for?”

“You’re often fond of eating this when you’re in a bad mood, young master. I happened to bring it along when I went to fetch the plaster.” She opened the other oil-paper package as well and held it out. “You didn’t eat much at noon either, so this dried meat should hold you over.”

He reached out and took it, grumbling, “Did the young master come to this forest just to eat?”

Huayue patted her forehead and hurriedly hauled over the large bundle of aerial roots. “Is this what you were looking for, young master?”

People of the Liang dynasty often wove nets from banyan aerial roots to hunt game, and she’d cut a good large bundle of them.

“Please eat something first, young master. There’s tea in this bamboo tube too. I’ll make the hunting net, and you can take it up the mountain shortly.” She had everything arranged in an orderly manner, then took out the plaster. “May I trouble you for your hand?”

Li Jingyun instinctively tucked his right hand, still holding the blade, behind his back. With a flick of the wrist, the soft blade slid back into his sleeve.

Huayue thought he was being petulant and sighed as she pulled his hand out, carefully examining the wound on the meaty part of his palm. There was no porcelain shard left in it, but it hadn’t quite scabbed over either — it split open faintly to show flesh and blood when opened even a little.

“This ointment is from Physician Wen, so you can rest easy about it, young master.” Her fingertips pressed the ointment onto his wound, and Huayue wrapped a strip of white cloth around it twice, tying it off in a bow.

“That’s really ugly,” he muttered.

Huayue smiled gently. “As long as it works.”

Most of his anger had faded. Li Jingyun popped a piece of preserved fruit in his mouth and said, mumbling, “Why are you still carrying that bundle on your back?”

Huayue glanced at her own shoulder and said helplessly, “Didn’t you tell me to carry it?”

He gave her a look like she was a fool. “Isn’t it heavy?”

“It is,” Huayue admitted honestly, nodding. “But if I don’t carry it, you’ll be unhappy.”

He gave a light snort, walked over, and reached out to take the bundle down from her shoulder. Seeing this, Huayue asked with delight, “Do I not need to carry it anymore?”

“The young master’s just checking whether anything inside broke.” Holding to the principle that a stubborn duck’s beak stays hard even after it’s dead, he kept a straight face. “You won’t carry it, so am I supposed to carry it back for you instead?”

He said that, but on the way back, the bundle stayed slung over his hand the whole time. Huayue sized it up as she walked, asking curiously, “You still haven’t finished checking?”

Li Jingyun rolled his eyes at her. “Can’t learn to please people, and can’t learn to be lazy either?”

Her eyes flickered as she thought it over for a moment, then she seemed to understand. “So you’ve stopped being angry?”

Too lazy to answer, Li Jingyun quickened his pace to leave her behind, but this time the person behind him had grown some wits, taking quick little steps to catch up, laughing as she said, “I knew it — with the young master’s broad-minded generosity, how could he possibly stoop to the level of a servant?”

“What kind of servant are you exactly?” he mocked. “Giving your master attitude, daring to defy your master, even sneaking off behind your master’s back to meet someone privately, acting however you please, showing no regard for anyone — change your clothes, sit in that phoenix palanquin, and even the Princess Imperial would have to give up her seat to you.”

She stopped in her tracks, and the smile on Huayue’s face stiffened.

Sensing something was off, Li Jingyun also stopped walking, glancing at her from the corner of his eye, frowning. “Can’t even say that much to you now?”

“…No.” Taking a light breath, Huayue reined in her momentary loss of composure and caught up to him, saying softly, “I didn’t meet anyone privately. I just… happened to run into him.”

“I suppose so — judging by how protective he was of you, your relationship must run fairly deep.” He looked straight ahead, expressionless. “With a patron like that, why are you still at the General’s estate suffering hardship?”

A patron? Huayue shook her head.

No one knew what Shen Zhiluo was thinking. The former dynasty’s First Prince had shown him boundless kindness, and yet Shen Zhiluo had still been able to cut him down with his own hand — so what was she, someone merely riding on the First Prince’s coattails? If she truly went to rely on him, she wouldn’t even know how she’d die.

Coming back to herself, she curved her brows into a smile. “Sir Shen isn’t as good to people as you, young master.”

“…”

Something knotted in his chest suddenly loosened for no reason he could name. Li Jingyun coughed lightly, his expression easing somewhat.

“Sir Shen is famously more handsome than anyone in the capital, and he can glimpse the will of heaven besides — favored by the Crown Prince. A man like that, how could he not treat people well?”

“He’s not good.” Huayue shook her head earnestly. “You’re rebellious too, young master, but you’re sharp-tongued and soft-hearted, kind and compassionate. Sir Shen was cold and merciless back in the palace, sinister and cunning.”

Those last few words were nothing complimentary, but no matter how Li Jingyun heard them, they sounded pleasing to his ears. His brows relaxed, and a smile rippled across his dark eyes. “Oh? He protects you, and you still say he’s no good?”

“He protects me only because of some old ties from before,” Huayue said, choosing her words carefully. “It hardly counts as any real affection between us.”

There was even an old debt yet to be settled.

The man in front of her listened, his expression turning somewhat odd, the corner of his mouth wanting to curl up even as he forced it down, something swirling faintly bright in his eyes.

Huayue raised an eyebrow to study him, but before she could look closely, he turned his head away swiftly, urging her gruffly, “Walk faster.”

“…Yes.”

According to the earlier arrangement, everyone was supposed to set out at the Hour of Wei and continue up the mountain, but when Huayue and Li Jingyun returned to the game lodge, they found everyone still there.

“Third Young Master, come rest upstairs first,” Wen Guzhi said, waving them over the moment he saw them. “We’ll be setting off a bit later than planned.”

“Why’s that?” Li Jingyun glanced around. “Something happen?”

“Nothing like that.” Wen Guzhi shook his head firmly. “It’s the Grand Astrologer’s decision — he says it’s auspicious for His Highness the Crown Prince to go up the mountain at the end of the Hour of You.”

“And the Princess Imperial’s procession?”

“They went up the mountain long ago.” Wen Guzhi glanced around and lowered his voice. “She’d never do anything that benefits the Crown Prince.”

Li Jingyun smiled faintly, set his things down, and was about to head upstairs.

“The two of you, sirs.” A maidservant came over and bowed. “Upstairs wants tea served, and the kitchen staff are too busy to spare anyone — might we borrow your servant for a bit?”

Seeing him frown, the maidservant hurriedly produced an Eastern Palace token, saying softly, “It truly can’t be helped. Please understand, sir.”

He glanced at the token, then looked at Huayue. She nodded and obediently followed the maidservant toward the rear courtyard.

The green skirt swayed ahead of her. After walking a few steps, seeing no one nearby, Yin Huayue spoke up. “Do you need my help with something else too?”

The girl in the green skirt turned around and said resentfully, “Everything’s already in place — what help could you possibly offer? It’s only for Master Chang’s sake that I’m giving you this.”

She held out a small black pill. Huayue raised an eyebrow, took it, and studied it in her palm for a moment.

“Don’t bother looking — it’s a breath-suppressing pill. Sir Shen has already helped us stall for time. Once things start, swallow this so you don’t get caught in the crossfire.”

Huayue’s face darkened, her eyes suddenly turning grim. “Wasn’t it agreed that only that one person would be targeted?”

“Who has time to worry about all that.” The girl in green flinched, startled, and frowned, muttering, “Master said those who accomplish great things don’t fuss over small details. We didn’t expect there to be this many people accompanying the procession today.”

Chang Gui and the former dynasty’s First Prince had been friends to the death. Ever since the fall of the Wei dynasty, he had endured humiliation and clung to life, all for the chance to assassinate the current Crown Prince. Zhou Heshuo was cautious by nature, and repeated assassination attempts had failed to reach him — now that an opportunity had finally arisen, Chang Gui naturally had no intention of letting it slip.

Had he informed her ahead of time, Yin Huayue might well have turned a blind eye. But now, she gave a cold laugh.

“Go tell Master Chang that nothing will happen today. Tell him to choose another time.”

The girl in green thought she’d misheard, staring at her wide-eyed. “What?”

Huayue didn’t repeat herself. She turned and walked away. The girl in green came to her senses and quickly caught up, gripping her wrist. “What do you think you’re doing!”

“I told you to deliver a message. Can’t you understand?” Huayue turned her head, and there was no longer a trace of softness in her eyes — her brows sharp, her gaze fearsome, like a thickly wrapped dagger that had suddenly bared its edge.

The girl in green let go, startled, and stumbled back two steps — only to back straight into someone.

“May I ask why?”

Chang Gui pressed a hand to the girl in green’s shoulder, looking past the top of her head, smiling as he met Huayue’s gaze.