The news that the young master of the Li family had suddenly been implicated in a murder case caused no small stir in the capital. In the span of a single hour, six separate groups came to visit him in the prison — some to comfort him, some to offer him advice, and some, like Li Shoutian, to scold him.
Li Jingyun grew tired of the noise and had the jailer move him to the death row cell instead.
Wen Guzhi looked around the cell with a sigh, then asked him quietly, “What does Third Young Master plan to do?”
Li Jingyun was watching Huayue tidy up the cell and answered indifferently, “Since we’re already here, might as well settle in.”
Hearing him say this, Wen Guzhi felt reassured and stopped discussing the case with him. Instead, he turned and smiled, “Little sister-in-law really has seen the world. Even here she keeps her composure without batting an eye — look how neatly she’s made the bedding, no different from back at the estate.”
Chaofeng, who was murmuring quietly with Liu Chenghe on the other side, immediately leaned in when she heard this. “Third Young Master, I’m not just praising anyone, but having a girl like Huayue around really does make things easier. When trouble strikes other families, the girls can’t help but cry and wail. Look at her — not only is she not crying, she’s thinking things through for you down to the smallest detail.”
She looked through the bars and shook her head with admiration. “Truly impressive.”
Li Jingyun raised an eyebrow and glanced at the person in the cell, not committing to any response.
Huayue calmly gathered the weeds on the ground into a bundle, wiped the ash off the walls with a handkerchief, then spread the bedding they’d brought over the bare stone slab. The water in the wooden bucket nearby had already turned black; she stared at it for a moment, then suddenly noticed how quiet everything had become.
Turning back in confusion, Huayue found that the people outside had left at some point without her noticing. The entire death row cell now held only her and Li Jingyun.
Li Jingyun was staring at her, his ink-dark eyes unfathomably deep. He leaned against the bars with his arms crossed, thought for a moment, then crooked a finger at her.
Wiping her hands on her apron out of habit, Huayue went over and bowed to him. “What does Young Master require?”
“I’ve come all the way here, and you have nothing to say?” he raised an eyebrow.
The person before him shook her head coldly, not a single eyebrow twitching, and said evenly, “Young Master is of noble standing and sharp wit. There’s no need for this servant to worry.”
“Oh?” His tone curled upward at the end. He caught her wrist and pulled her toward him, lowering his eyes to look down at her. “If you’re not worried, then why did you come rushing here in such a panic to save me today?”
“This servant was not panicked.” Her face stayed expressionless, not even the corner of her mouth lifting. “It’s simply that when the master is in trouble, it’s only right to come to his aid.”
The two stood close together, yet she didn’t lean into him — her body stiff as a wooden board, keeping a hair’s breadth of distance between them.
Li Jingyun let out a wistful sigh.
He reached out and hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her entirely into his embrace, resting his chin on top of her head and rubbing it gently.
“Tell me the truth. I won’t laugh at you.”
He had, in fact, laughed at her before.
Huayue silently pursed her lips, half her face buried against his chest, and said in a muffled voice, “This servant is telling the truth.”
“And if this time I can’t escape it, if I end up dying here — you still wouldn’t be worried?” he lowered his voice to frighten her. “This trap has been laid link by link. It won’t be so easy to deal with.”
The person in his arms fell silent, her hand gripping the sleeve of his robe, clenching it without a sound.
Li Jingyun noticed, and his heart instantly felt at ease — his face broke into a self-satisfied smile even as he kept his voice low, leaning close to her ear. “It’s fine. When I die, I’ll leave Qifeng Tower to you. That way, at least you won’t have to worry about food and clothing, and it won’t have been for nothing, this affection between us.”
Gritting her teeth, Huayue said with considerable irritation, “We’ve only just been thrown in prison, and you’re already arranging your funeral affairs?”
“It’s bound to happen sooner or later.” He sighed dejectedly. “I don’t like being manipulated by others. Rather than let those people have their way, I’d rather we all end up bitter enemies — then none of them will have an easy time of it afterward either.”
“Ridiculous.” She shoved him away and glared at him. “Life is what matters most. Keep your life first, and everything else can be worked out. Who trades their life just to spite someone?”
His chest ached from where she’d pushed him. Li Jingyun coughed lightly and answered with amusement, “Me.”
Blood rushing to her head, Huayue felt dizzy with anger. She paced two steps, her whole body trembling. She opened her mouth as if to bite her nails, then shakily lowered her hand instead, rubbing it against her apron, knuckles turning white. Her eyes darted about wildly, and her lips trembled too.
Not expecting her to actually get this angry, Li Jingyun panicked a little. He stood and tried to go embrace her, but the moment he reached out, she slapped his hand away.
A sharp “smack” rang out, echoing faintly in the silent cell.
Li Jingyun didn’t feel angry — if anything, he felt a mixture of delight and heartache. Watching the sheen of tears welling up in her eyes, his chest twisted uncomfortably, and he frowned. “I was just talking. Don’t cry.”
Huayue turned away from him, her face rigid, eyes reddening, shoulders shaking.
“Hey—” He circled around her twice, at a loss for what to do. “I won’t scare you anymore. I won’t die, I really won’t die. This is nothing at all. Weren’t you not worried about me? How could you get this upset? Ugh, forget it, I’ll stop talking. Just catch your breath.”
In all his life, Li Jingyun had never been this flustered before. Seeing that she seemed unable to hear him at all, he steeled himself, reached out, and clamped both her wrists, pulling her entirely into his arms.
Her small frame was cold and trembling; only after being held for a long while did she gradually calm down.
Li Jingyun didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, and felt a sour ache in his chest. He lowered his head and nuzzled her cold cheek, coaxing her in the gentlest voice he’d ever used in his life. “It’s my fault, I spoke carelessly. Let’s not be angry anymore. When we get out of here in a while, I’ll buy you preserved fruits from Jing’an Hall.”
Huayue stared blankly at some spot in the cell, and it took her a good while to remember where she was. She closed her eyes and spoke in a hoarse voice: “This servant isn’t angry.”
“Mm, not angry. Who cares about a little troublemaker like the Third Young Master anyway? Let’s not mind him.” His voice carried a smile as he gently stroked her back.
Huayue was somewhat annoyed. “I really am not angry.”
“Mm, who was angry? I didn’t see anyone.”
Starlight seemed to fill Li Jingyun’s eyes as he affectionately nuzzled her head, thinking that death row was truly a wonderful place — pleasant scenery, beautiful mountains and clear waters.
Huayue deflated, saying in a muffled voice, “This servant should head back once I’m finished tidying up.”
“So soon?” He was reluctant. “No one’s coming to disturb us anyway. What’s the rush?”
“Reporting to Young Master,” she said testily, “this servant needs to go back and look after the East Courtyard.”
Hearing this form of self-address grated on his ears. Li Jingyun caught her chin, his thumb brushing gently over her lips, and coaxed her in a low voice: “Say ‘concubine’ instead.”
Huayue frowned, looking at him with visible resistance in her eyes.
It’s all a mess of my own making, he sighed, leaning in to speak softly to her. “I grew up in the general’s estate. From a young age no one ever bothered correcting my behavior, so sometimes I’d say the wrong thing and no one would tell me. Before, I misunderstood you — I thought you were being difficult like Han Shuang, and I spoke too harshly. Now let me apologize to you properly. Is that alright?”
Lowering her eyes, Huayue said flatly, “Young Master is the master. Masters don’t need to apologize to servants.”
“I’m sorry.” He held her close, nuzzling the side of her ear, his voice low and sincere.
Her body stiffened slightly. Huayue pressed her lips together and turned her head away. “Young Master, that’s too much.”
“Back on Guan Mountain,” he continued on his own, “I wasn’t trying to scheme against you for no reason. It’s just — you and I are clearly close, so why would you rather turn to Shen Zhiluo for help than speak to me?”
How could those be the same thing? Shen Zhiluo helping her meant pointing her toward a way out. Him helping her meant digging a pit for her to fall into.
Remembering this still made Huayue feel indignant, and she couldn’t help but push him again.
Li Jingyun’s strength was considerable; he wasn’t budged in the slightest. He held her, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Blame me for being shameless. I was thinking of you, thinking of taking you as a concubine, so you couldn’t keep being all lovey-dovey with Shen Zhiluo anymore.”
Startled for a moment, Huayue felt a flash of confusion. “When was this servant ever lovey-dovey with him?”
His voice, laced with a smile, took on a note of gritted teeth. Li Jingyun pinched her waist. “Did you drink Meng Po’s soup of forgetfulness or something? In the forest, in the carriage — which time did I not catch the two of you being lovey-dovey?”
“…” This was too troublesome to explain, so Huayue chose silence.
The person before him let out a soft huff, lips pressed together in displeasure. But after a moment, he lowered his head again and coaxed her gently. “Change how you address yourself back. Hm?”
“Young Master.” Huayue was both annoyed and amused. “It’s just a form of address. Why does it matter so much to you?”
He tilted his chin up and looked at her stubbornly. “Will you change it or not?”
She wanted to shake her head, but just as she turned her head to the side — before she could turn it back — he caught her chin and tilted her face up—
A warm, soft touch landed on her lips, and a familiar scent swept over her instantly.
Huayue’s eyes went wide. Before she could even push him away, he had already pulled back on his own, lowering his eyes to look at her, and asked again: “Will you change it or not?”
She hadn’t expected there to be such a shameless method of coercion. She froze for a moment, and just as she opened her mouth to answer, Li Jingyun pecked her again.
“You…” Huayue struck his shoulder in anger. “You have to at least give me a chance to answer.”
“Fine.” He straightened his back in a very gentlemanly manner. “Go ahead and answer.”
What else could she say? She sighed helplessly. “This concubine will change it, then.”
The corner of his mouth curved up, and Li Jingyun still pecked her once more.
“Young Master!” Huayue was exasperated. “This concubine already changed it — why are you still kissing me?”
“My apologies, I was just too happy and couldn’t help myself.” He spat at himself in great self-reproach, then redoubled his efforts and pulled her closer still.
For a fleeting moment, Yin Huayue thought she might be dreaming — how could this annoying little troublemaker suddenly turn so gentle and sincere? But when she secretly pinched his arm, Li Jingyun’s sharp intake of breath was distinct and clear, not at all like something from a dream.
Could it possibly be true that a person’s words turn kind when facing death?
Glancing at the flickering candlelight dancing on the wall, Huayue sank into deep worry.
Before leaving the death row cell, Li Jingyun said to her in a carefree tone, “Don’t worry about me, and don’t do anything unnecessary either. I have my own way of handling this.”
Huayue replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Rest assured, Young Master. This concubine won’t overestimate her own abilities.”
But even as she said that, when she returned to the East Courtyard, the candle in her room still burned through the entire night.
The next day, Shuangjiang came to relay a message: Situ Feng, relying on the Crown Prince’s protection, had started a lawsuit against the Han family. Han Tianyong’s murder had dealt the Han family a massive blow, so much so that the elderly couple was willing to do anything to see Situ Feng die without an intact corpse.
“We just need to watch the show,” Shuangjiang said in a low voice. “Situ Feng has nothing in his hands. He can’t struggle out of this.”
Huayue was pruning branches in the courtyard as she said, “Yesterday I wrote a letter and got something from Lord Shen. Take it and find a way to get it to Situ Feng.”
Shuangjiang curiously took the letter, opened it and skimmed it, her willow eyebrows knitting tightly. “What is this for?”
“To muddy the waters,” she answered. “The muddier the better.”
Situ Feng was already doomed — why give him a lifeline now? Shuangjiang read the letter over twice more, then suddenly her expression turned grave. “Are you trying to besiege Wei to rescue Zhao?”
“No.” Huayue waved her hand. “I don’t have that kind of free time. It’s just that dying in prison would be too easy an end for Situ Feng. I want him brought out — I’ve prepared a grand gift waiting for him.”
Half-believing, Shuangjiang took the item and left.
Huayue stood for a while beneath the magnolia tree, then calmly tidied up the fallen branches and pruning shears and went to the Household Management Office.
She hadn’t been back to this place in a long while since she’d left last time. When Nanny Xun saw her, she seemed unexpectedly a little wistful, poured her tea, and said in a low voice, “I hear you’ve become the Third Young Master’s concubine. Why come back to this ill-omened place?”
Nanny Xun’s punishments were harsh, but she was fairly good-natured at heart, and held no personal grudge against her, so chatting with her felt somewhat relaxed.
Huayue asked with a smile, “What’s the talk outside about my becoming a concubine?”
“Don’t get angry when I tell you.” Nanny Xun glanced around and lowered her voice. “For a servant, once she climbs into her master’s bed, the talk outside is never too kind. But I’ve heard people say you’re pregnant — that changes things, being valued for bearing a child makes sense.”
Thinking of the act she’d put on before the Princess Imperial and Han Shuang, Huayue’s lips curved.
She took out a box from Baolai Pavilion and handed it into Nanny Xun’s sleeves with both hands.
“Thanks to your care, I was able to save my life. This small token is nothing much,” she said with a light smile. “And knowing your kindness, whatever happens in the future, I will surely bear it for you.”
There were unspoken layers to her words. Nanny Xun clutched the box, glancing at her with some unease.
Outside, there was talk of abolishing the Household Management Office. To others, it might not seem like much, but to Nanny Xun, it would be an absolute catastrophe. People like her, who had inside connections, would surely be settled up with old scores once they lost the protection of their masters in the palace.
She hadn’t slept well these past few days, and hearing Huayue’s words now, she grew uneasy, her eyes darting side to side.
That afternoon, Nanny Xun took sick leave and went back to her hometown. Huayue went to the Household Management Office and, citing having angered the Third Young Master as her reason, requested to be punished with five lashes.
For someone used to receiving twenty lashes regularly, five would have been nothing — she could have gritted her teeth and endured it. But this time, Huayue didn’t endure it. After just two lashes fell, she collapsed to the ground.
The general’s estate, already in a state of alarm, was thrown into further chaos. Su Miao rushed over and carried Huayue back to the East Courtyard. A doctor was called to check her pulse, and — well — it turned out she’d had a miscarriage.
Never mind that she hadn’t even consummated the marriage to begin with. Huayue clutched her blanket and, drawing on every skill she’d ever learned, cried as pitifully and movingly as could be, all while whispering to Su Miao between sobs.
So half an hour later, Su Miao smashed up the Household Management Office in the general’s estate and set it on fire, nearly implicating the neighboring West Courtyard as well.
This commotion was simply too large — it directly alarmed the Central Palace. Five years since the founding of the dynasty, and who would dare touch so much as a brick or tile of the Household Management Office? The Central Palace was furious and wanted to press charges, but at this moment, Li Shoutian entered the palace, leading a group of elder officials, and knelt outside the Imperial Study.
The general’s estate had suffered the loss of an heir — how could the other estates remain at peace? Lord Mei, who had lost his wife earlier, knocked his head against the bluestone floor alongside him, begging His Majesty for justice. The Eastern Palace and the Princess Imperial both rushed over upon hearing the news, and argued for another hour over whether the Household Management Office should be abolished.
The court was in chaos, the palace was in chaos, and the Princess Imperial and the Han family were run ragged. For a while, no one had the time to spare a thought for Li Jingyun.
Li Jingyun sat in the prison drinking with Wen Guzhi.
Wen Guzhi was full of feeling, cradling his wine cup and shaking his head. “How is it that every girl you come across turns out like this? I originally thought she was just an unremarkable servant, yet who would have guessed she’d be this formidable — she even knows how to besiege Wei to rescue Zhao.”
“That’s because you don’t know much.” Li Jingyun scoffed. “What’s rare about that? To save the one you love, you’ll rack your brains to the fullest.”
Though he said this, the smug look on his face nearly split his mouth to his ears.
Wen Guzhi found it unsettling to watch and rubbed his arms. “My lord, let’s talk properly. We’re still sitting in prison — being this happy isn’t quite appropriate.”
Kicking him, Li Jingyun reined in his expression and asked, “How are things in the palace?”
“His Majesty had originally planned to drag out the matter of the Household Management Office for another year or so, but now with this sudden incident, plus the Eastern Palace and the assembled officials pressing hard, it looks like it’ll be abolished.” Wen Guzhi took a sip of wine, his eyes narrowing slightly. “The Central Palace is furious and will likely go after the Eastern Palace next. You being in prison is actually a good thing right now — whatever storm comes won’t touch you.”
Li Jingyun thought for a moment, then asked, “How is Situ Feng?”
Wen Guzhi was silent for a good while before remembering who Situ Feng was, and asked in confusion, “Why do you ask about him? He’s locked up in prison too, about to be crushed by the Han family — but then the whole Household Management Office incident happened, and as if by divine aid, he suddenly turned up evidence that Han Tianyong had abused his power for personal gain. According to the laws of Great Liang, if the deceased himself was thoroughly wicked, then even if he truly was the murderer, he wouldn’t be made to pay with his life. The case is still under investigation, but it looks like he’ll be getting out soon.”
A faint glint flickered in Li Jingyun’s eyes. “Have someone keep watch on him.”
“Hm? Watch Situ Feng?” Wen Guzhi was even more confused. “What does he have to do with us?”
“Just watch him. If anything happens to him, come let me know.”
Fine — Wen Guzhi didn’t expect this lord to tell him everything anyway. It was a small matter, so he agreed to it.
The two clinked cups, ate and drank, and after a while, the jailer came over and said quietly, “Master Li, someone’s here to visit.”
Without even lifting his head, Li Jingyun waved his hand. “I chose death row specifically to avoid seeing idle visitors. Aside from my own household and the person in front of me, turn everyone else away.”
The jailer stood there awkwardly, not moving. The person behind him, however, simply walked in on their own, calling out softly, “Brother Jingyun.”
Wen Guzhi’s chopsticks paused, and he still couldn’t help but sigh, “How is it that every girl you come across turns out like this?”
The same line, and it fit no matter who it was said about.
Li Jingyun raised his eyes but didn’t have the jailer open the door — he simply looked at the person outside through the bars like this.
Han Shuang’s face was pale, and she looked somewhat haggard. Catching his gaze, she lowered her head in a fluster, twisting her handkerchief. “This lowly one has something she’d like to discuss with Brother Jingyun.”
“Speak,” he said.
She frowned and glanced at Wen Guzhi still sitting there, smiling awkwardly. “This…”
“We’re all family here.” Li Jingyun smiled without warmth. “Back when you brought people to search my East Courtyard, wasn’t he there too? What is there that can’t be heard?”
Wen Guzhi raised his wine cup and toasted her without even turning his head.
Her expression shifted slightly. Han Shuang glanced at the jailer, who hastily withdrew.
Staring at the bars for a moment, she pressed her lips together. “It’s true that you killed him, Brother Jingyun. If I go to the courtroom and tell the truth, you’ll be the murderer — at the least, you’ll never be able to hold office again for the rest of your life; at worst, you’ll pay with your own life. But Brother Jingyun knows in his heart that I could never bear to do such a thing.”
Li Jingyun took a sip of pigeon soup, frowned, and spat out a piece of yam.
Han Shuang was startled by the sudden movement, looking up at him in alarm. He set the soup bowl back down as if nothing had happened. “Go on.”
“…This lowly one has heard that Brother Jingyun’s concubine lost her child. That being the case, Brother Jingyun could divorce her and marry me instead — that way, I could give the Princess Imperial an answer, and it would also fulfill this lowly one’s wish of many years. If Brother Jingyun agrees, this lowly one will go to court and testify that you weren’t the murderer.”
She spoke very quickly, her eyes blinking as she watched him. “Would Brother Jingyun be willing?”
Wen Guzhi nodded repeatedly as he listened, and said quietly, “This deal doesn’t sound like a bad one, my lord. You get out unscathed, and you land a wife too.”
Li Jingyun gave him an approving glance, then kicked him off the bench.
Wen Guzhi dodged, laughing, and sat down by the bed to call out toward the outside, “Young lady, why don’t we just drop this idea? Hearing our lord say one word of refusal — wouldn’t that be worse than death?”
“Why would Brother Jingyun be unwilling?” Han Shuang frowned. “There’s no other path left now.”
Tipping his head back to finish the last drop of wine in his cup, Li Jingyun rose unhurriedly and walked over to the bars. He looked down at that innocent, pure face of hers, a flicker of mockery crossing his eyes.
“Do you keep thinking that I refuse to marry you because I’m sulking, unwilling to believe in your innocence?”
Recalling old memories, Han Shuang grew agitated again. “It’s been so many years — why does Brother Jingyun still dwell on that matter? Back then I really did just happen to run into Lord Lin. He saw a young lady walking the roads unaccompanied and offered to escort me to your estate together, to search for the person. I truly never betrayed you.”
“What a coincidence, wasn’t it?” Li Jingyun laughed lightly. “The day before, you spotted Feng Zixu in my courtyard. The very next day, you happened to run into Lord Lin coming to my estate to arrest a former court official.”
Han Shuang choked up, sobbing quietly. “Fate plays cruel tricks — this truly is fate playing a cruel trick.”
“Don’t blame fate.” He waved his hand. “Five years ago, while you were happily hugging your reward, I was sitting on the roof of your embroidery chamber.”
Her crying stopped short. Han Shuang’s pupils constricted, and she looked up at him abruptly as if she’d seen a ghost.
Li Jingyun’s expression stayed calm, not a trace of anger in his eyes, as he said to her slowly, unhurriedly, “I never exposed you. I just watched, year after year, as you cried about being wronged and claimed your innocence.”
He mimicked her manner, pinching his voice into a delicate tone: “I really am, I really am being wronged~”