“Ma— Master Chang.” The girl in green turned around, bowing in alarm.

Chang Gui patted her shoulder, signaling her to stand aside, his long, narrow phoenix eyes sweeping toward the person across from him, his smile ambiguous. “We had an agreement. Why the sudden change of heart?”

“An agreement?” Huayue looked at him coldly, raising a hand to point at the pavilion ahead. “Did you tell me you meant to kill all hundred-some people in there?”

Chang Gui laughed, a light “tsk” escaping through his nose, his sleeve sweeping as the blue sash on his head stirred in the wind. “During the chaos at Guanshan back then, over a hundred people of Wei also died in this very place. You don’t mourn Ninghuai, yet you pity the murderer instead?”

Huayue froze, an image flashing through her mind — a figure in crimson robes and silver armor — and the sharpness in her eyes faded at once.

Chang Gui studied her, a trace of resentment in his eyes mixed with mockery. “Can’t bear to part with that young master of the Li family?”

Huayue shook her head without even thinking. “No.”

“I heard you’ve been serving in his courtyard recently. Seems there’s been some contact between the two of you.”

“You’re overthinking things.” Huayue lowered her eyes. “There’s nothing there.”

Turning to look off at the distant mountains with a meaningful air, Chang Gui clasped his hands behind his back. “That young master does have some real skill — he actually managed to rescue Han Shuang from Zhou Heshuo’s hands. Poor Zhou Heshuo, played for a fool, and he never even suspected him.”

Rescued… Han Shuang? Huayue stood stunned, her sleeves curling shut.

Li Jingyun seemed to dislike Han Shuang quite a bit — resistant in speech, avoiding her whenever they met, their relationship strained to this degree. Why would he be willing to risk his life to save her?

Recalling the fierce, matchless look in that man’s eyes when he’d turned around in the woods, Yin Huayue felt a little dazed.

It seemed close, and yet in truth she barely understood him at all.

“I’ve said all this only to ask you the reason, little mistress,” Chang Gui said, interrupting her thoughts. “I want to know what could make you forget the debt of gratitude your kinsman paid with his life, and instead show mercy toward your enemy. Though seeing the result now, it’s nothing particularly novel.”

“Tender feelings between men and women?” he sneered. “Sure enough — the sort of thing a woman would think of.”

Her heart sank; Huayue knew something was wrong, and she stepped back at once. Chang Gui moved just as fast, his five fingers curling like a hook, striking straight for her left shoulder. Huayue dodged sideways, turning her palm to meet his, and knowing she couldn’t match him, used the force of the exchange to bolt toward the front courtyard.

The fierce wind behind her chased like a shadow, chilling the back of her neck.

“No use running.” Chang Gui’s voice came like a ghost in the dead of night, rolling up from behind with a dark, damp air. “The incense has already been lit. Running back to his side won’t help.”

In the courtyard of the game lodge stood a large bronze cauldron, upon which three sticks of tall incense, thick as a wrist, now burned. A southern wind carried the blue-purple smoke curling toward the pavilion, seeping in through the windows into every room. The vast game lodge fell suddenly, eerily silent, without a trace of human voice, still and oppressive as a tomb.

Huayue’s heart burned with anxiety. Covering her nose and mouth, she darted upstairs, dodging the attacks behind her while thinking — Li Jingyun was such a clever man, surely he’d have some awareness. As long as he was still awake, then…

Before she could finish the thought, she looked up and saw the scene in the second-floor tea room, and her pupils shrank at once.

Smoke curled thick, the gauze curtain hung half-drawn, and Li Jingyun lay on the tea couch, eyes shut tight, lips pale, the blue-purple smoke split by the bridge of his nose, drifting lazily across the side of his face.

Chang Gui had already caught up behind her. Huayue had no time to think further, stumbling into the room, reaching out to feel for his breath.

Nothing.

Unable to hold her breath any longer, she stiffly pulled out the breath-suppressing pill the girl in green had given her and put it in her mouth, staring at him unwillingly.

“Plenty of people say he’s formidable. Seeing him now, though, he’s nothing much.”

With no path forward left, Chang Gui slowed his pace, strolling leisurely through the doorway. “A pretty face on an embroidered pillow — no match for even a fraction of Ninghuai’s valor.”

Huayue turned back, her voice hoarse. “The General’s estate showed us kindness. What right do you have to hold him accountable too?”

“Kindness?” Chang Gui laughed uproariously. “When the Liang dynasty fell, not a single person of Wei was innocent. That bit of kindness you see, it’s nothing to me.”

His eyes rolled down, looking at her from above. “What you’ve said today marks you as no longer one of my kind. Sir Shen is holding a ritual sacrifice, and he’s short one offering.”

“Might I borrow your life for it?”

The man before her, once possessing a hint of refined delicacy, now twisted into something as ferocious as a demon from the underworld. Huayue stepped back half a pace, knowing he truly meant to kill, a chill running through her entire body. Instinctively, she grabbed the hand of the man lying on the couch.

Their fingers interlaced, and the warmth of his palm made her freeze. She wanted to turn and look, but the man before her had already drawn a dagger, striking down at her without mercy.

The glinting blade enlarged in her pupils, its ferocious force enough to set one’s teeth on edge with cold. In the moment before death, a person can’t even manage to dodge.

At the critical instant, a hand swept past her ear, carrying full killing intent, striking hard at Chang Gui’s wrist.

With a “crack,” the dagger flew and clattered to the floor. The loose strands at Huayue’s temples were blown up by the gust of wind, then slowly settled back down.

Chang Gui clutched his wrist in pain, his eyes suddenly widening.

This man’s eyes had only ever held obsession and disdain — this was the first time Huayue saw astonishment in them. He stared past her, as if looking at some monster.

She was bewildered, and before she could turn around, she felt warmth on the top of her head, and weight settling on her shoulder.

Li Jingyun leaned against her lazily, glaring at Chang Gui with utmost irritation. “I was sleeping just fine. What’s all this racket?”

Huayue: “…”

Chang Gui retreated two steps, clearly not having expected him to wake from the bone-dissolving smoke. His eyes darted, and he turned and ran.

Li Jingyun’s face darkened, and he rose to give chase, but the moment he sat up straight, Huayue grabbed hold of his sleeve.

“I’ll settle your account with you later.” Li Jingyun lowered his eyes, his expression impatient. “Trying to stop me at a time like this — I won’t be able to protect you afterward either.”

Huayue didn’t let go. Instead, she crouched down.

Li Jingyun sighed inwardly, thinking his own indulgence of her had its limits, and at a moment like this, there was no way he’d let her run wild —

His collar suddenly tightened, and his body was pulled forward with it. Caught off guard, Li Jingyun was yanked down, his head lowered, and before he could even get angry, his lips suddenly met something soft.

Amber eyes enlarged before him, thick black lashes drawing suddenly close. He froze in shock, his jaw slackening, and a soft tongue tip slipped in, passing half a pill into his mouth.

A faint, elusive scent of magnolia drifted past his nose, stirring up an inexplicable restlessness deep in his heart. Li Jingyun only froze for a moment before turning the tables, his hand caressing the back of her neck, pulling her against him.

Their lips and teeth tangled together, Yin Huayue’s head tilted back, the curve of her neck lovely beyond words, her jade-white skin flushing faintly, small earlobes bare of any ornament, looking soft and clean.

He reached out instinctively to touch them.

A shiver ran across the back of her ear, and Huayue suddenly came to her senses, shoving him away hard, gasping for breath. “Young master!”

Her face burned as though it might catch fire. She wiped at the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, shuffling back a couple of steps.

Pushed back, Li Jingyun braced himself against the tea couch to steady himself, saying irritably, “You’re the one who came at me. Why are you yelling at your master?”

“I—” Huayue was both flustered and embarrassed, gritting her teeth, tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth. “The smoke is poisonous. I was just sharing the antidote with you.”

Belatedly registering the taste of medicine in his mouth, Li Jingyun asked without changing expression, “Why do you have an antidote?”

Huayue faltered slightly, her brows drooping, looking a little guilty.

He stood up, glanced at the already empty corridor, and turned to feign anger. “A mere maidservant, and you have quite some nerve.”

“I can explain,” Huayue said uneasily. “This wasn’t my idea.”

“There’s no time for that now.” Li Jingyun waved a hand. “Come with me.”

The game lodge, which had been silent moments before, now suddenly rang with the clash of swords, figures bursting from every room, locked in battle with the tide of black-clad men surging up from below.

Huayue followed Li Jingyun to the main chamber. Zhou Heshuo stood by the window looking down, Shen Zhiluo silent behind him.

“Jingyun’s here?” Zhou Heshuo turned around. “Did you catch him?”

Li Jingyun laughed as he entered. “Slippery as a loach — I saw his face, but couldn’t catch him.”

Huayue stood behind him, her fingertips ice-cold, not daring to make a sound.

She’d thought this was a flawless scheme of Chang Gui’s, but it seemed instead that someone had turned the tables on him. She glanced up quietly at the man standing over there.

Shen Zhiluo quietly toyed with the divination compass in his hand, stars glimmering on his purple-brown robe, his brow utterly indifferent. Sensing her gaze, he paused but did not look back.

And so Huayue understood — the problem still lay with him.

“How many accomplices are left?” Zhou Heshuo asked.

Huayue tensed, instinctively lowering her head, only to hear the man in front of her say, “All downstairs. I scanned the area on my way in — only two got away.”

Zhou Heshuo sighed, settling into the grand chair, a flash of weariness crossing his deep-set eyes. “Yin Ninghuai really was an extraordinary man. All these years later, and the people around him still haven’t given up on assassinating me. Guarding against this constantly is quite draining.”

After a moment’s thought, he suddenly clapped his hands and laughed. “Might as well dig up that man’s corpse and toss it out of the capital. Dogs chase after bones far and wide — then I can rest easy.”

The room burst into laughter. Huayue’s mind went blank with a roar, and without thinking she grabbed the clothing of the man before her, wanting to pull him aside so she could rush forward and punch Zhou Heshuo in the face. Her fingertips trembled violently, yet her strength was considerable, like a headstrong young calf charging blindly, her eyes reddened with fury.

Yet the man in front of her, rather than yielding to her force, instead turned his body, blocking her completely.

“Though the people down there can’t fight their way up, this place really isn’t suited for a long stay.” Li Jingyun said unhurriedly, “Better to head up the mountain. If we’re late, the Princess Imperial will probably have rolled up all the grass and taken it back to the palace.”

Zhou Heshuo thought it over and nodded, striking the table. “Let’s set off.”

“Yes.” The people around them acknowledged and began filing out.

A crowd chattered noisily about routes and escorts, the noise loud and the space crowded. Huayue felt her head swelling, a buzzing ringing in her ears, her body jostled several times.

Amid the stumbling, someone reached out and pulled her back, sheltering her between his arms. At once the noise receded, the white mist gradually clearing.

Huayue looked up, and found herself gazing straight at Li Jingyun’s lowered, thin lips.

“Where’s your mind wandering off to?” he said irritably. “Ride the carriage up the mountain with me. I’ve got plenty of questions for you.”