The end of the You hour.

A carriage stopped briefly at the west side gate of the General’s manor, then drove off onto the official road.

Qin Sheng sat in the carriage, glancing outside while turning back to look at the person seated beside him.

Li Jingyun had an extremely handsome appearance—when not smiling or moving, he looked like a noble scholar stepped straight out of a painting.

But right now…

The young master was smiling far too happily. The whole carriage ride, he laughed the entire way, his dark eyes glinting, the corners of his mouth raised high.

“Young master.” Qin Sheng couldn’t stand it anymore. “Has something joyful happened at the manor?”

Li Jingyun glanced at him sideways. “I’ve been cooped up until I’m about to grow mold—what joy could there be?”

“Then what are you so pleased about?”

Wiping his face, Li Jingyun looked baffled. “Who’s pleased? I’m annoyed right now—I only got one hour out, and I’ll have to rush back soon.”

The corners of his lips were level, his eyes upright and dignified, standing as solemn as a towering pine, not a trace of a smile in sight.

Qin Sheng looked him over left and right, and with difficulty convinced himself he must have been seeing things a moment ago, then asked, “The General has been busy with the weapons depot lately—does he still have time to personally watch over you?”

“Not him.” Li Jingyun pursed his lips. “There’s a dog tied up in my courtyard, far more formidable than my father.”

That dog had sharp fangs, sharp claws, and a keen nose—it had nearly ruined his important business.

But.

Her face had gone green with anger just now, hadn’t it?

Recalling Yin Huayue’s expression at that moment, Li Jingyun couldn’t hold back and burst out laughing.

Qin Sheng: “???”

Huayue stood guard at the East Courtyard, her face green.

She knew Li Jingyun was the unconventional type—if he insisted on going out, he surely wasn’t going to do anything good. But since he was rarely willing to go see Madam on his own, she’d decided to play accomplice this once; it seemed worthwhile.

After settling the East Courtyard’s affairs, Huayue stepped onto the corridor toward the main courtyard, and met a maid coming the other way with lowered head.

As the two passed each other, Huayue heard her murmur softly, “That person left the palace today.”

Her footsteps paused. Huayue’s expression darkened.

“Where did they go?”

“Not enough manpower, couldn’t keep up—we only caught wind of it.”

Huayue sighed and kept walking.

“Steward?” The little maid wanted to call out to her, but when she looked back, that thin figure had already reached the end of the corridor.

Wind blew through the bamboo, the courtyard cold and still.

Leaving the corridor, Huayue transformed back into the considerate, thoughtful servant, respectfully delivering the freshly made soup to the General’s study.

Li Shoutian was busy at work; he spared a moment to glance at her and ask, “Has Jingyun caused any trouble?”

“Reporting to the General, all is well. Young master is resting in his courtyard.”

“Good, then.” Li Shoutian set down his brush, leaned back in his chair, and sighed. “There’s much happening in the capital lately—if he can cause a little less trouble, it would add years to this old man’s life.”

Huayue felt a bit guilty, bowed to the General, and hurried out to check the sky.

The sky gradually darkened to ink, and the lanterns in the manor lit one by one.

The first quarter of the Hai hour.

The agreed time had already passed, and there was not a single figure to be seen at the west side gate.

Huayue’s expression was not good.

She knew she shouldn’t have trusted that lying mouth of Li Jingyun’s—truly, even an old horse stumbles, even an old fisherman capsizes in the gutter. She’d been burned so many times already, why did she keep falling for it?

Gritting her teeth, she broke off a piece of steamed bun and fed it to Wangfu, who sat by the gate, saying darkly, “When you see him later, don’t ask questions—just bite off a chunk of his flesh first!”

Wangfu was the fiercest guard dog in the whole manor; several times thieves had scaled the wall and been caught by him. He usually wasn’t close with the manor’s servants, only ever willing to eat what Huayue fed him—so at her command, he immediately gave a “woof,” ears perking up, tail wagging.

Looking at those bright little eyes, Huayue couldn’t help scooping up his two front paws. “Even a dog understands human feeling—some people do less good than that. If he were even half as obedient as you, I’d live two years longer.”

Before she finished speaking, a stone suddenly flew over the wall.

Huayue reacted swiftly, stepping back two paces. The stone landed with a crack in front of her, rolling away.

Patting her chest in relief, she glanced up carelessly, then her pupils suddenly contracted.

Tonight’s moon was large and round, looking like the backdrop of a shadow puppet show against the top of the wall. A tree branch growing to one side tore a crack in that backdrop, and someone suddenly leapt out from within it, hands braced on the wall.

A robe of blue carp-patterned snow brocade snapped fiercely in the wind, the embroidered carp seeming to leap as if alive, sleeves flying, a few strands of black hair curling. Where the black hair brushed past, Li Jingyun lowered his eyes to look at her, an expression somewhere between mockery and annoyance.

Huayue froze, and just as she thought to step aside, this man, seemingly without thinking at all, threw himself directly at her.

“…”

Had she not been prepared, she would have broken two bones.

Gritting her teeth, she caught him fully in her arms, took a deep breath, and forced a smile: “Young master.”

His wide sleeves hung down on either side of her shoulders. Li Jingyun slowly rested his chin on her shoulder and breathed out softly: “You have quite the grievance against me, don’t you.”

“Young master jests,” Huayue said, scrambling for words. “That this servant can wait on young master is a blessing earned in a past life—how would this servant dare defy you.”

He gave a soft snort and reached out to touch her burning earlobe: “Liar.”

Huayue grumbled inwardly but didn’t dare make a sound.

Nearby, Wangfu, startled by this sudden falling figure, had every hair standing on end, baring his teeth and about to bite, only to see the two people before him locked in an embrace.

Wangfu stood dumbfounded, a confused “awoo?” rumbling from his throat.

A dagger flashed and landed sideways in front of him, cold light glinting under the moon. Li Jingyun turned his head to look at the dog, licked his lips, and said, “I happen to be hungry—is there meat here to eat?”

Wangfu: “…”

His bared fangs obediently retracted, and Wangfu sat in the corner, silent.

Li Jingyun laughed. “Such a cowardly bully, all bark and no bite—is he your relative?”

“…”

Huayue wanted to chop him up too, to feed to his “relative.”

“Please stand properly, young master,” she said, pushing him. “It’s getting late, time to return to the East Courtyard.”

Li Jingyun hummed, his voice thick through his nose: “I can’t walk.”

His warm breath puffed against her ear, a bit ticklish. Huayue turned her head away: “Young master, as agreed, if you’re discovered, this servant will be the first to bring people to seize you.”

He pouted: “You really are merciless.”

Too lazy to keep bantering with him, she forcibly pulled his arm off her shoulder, wanting him to make his own way back to the East Courtyard.

But the moment she grasped his cuff, something sticky and metallic-smelling suddenly stained her whole hand.

Huayue froze, lowering her head to try to see what it was by moonlight, but before she could make it out, someone in the distance shouted angrily: “Who’s there!”

Several torches instantly converged toward the west side gate, the light stinging the eyes. Wangfu, who had shrunk back into the corner, sprang out again, barking wildly at Li Jingyun.

Li Jingyun: “…”

This fair-weather dog was truly Yin Huayue’s relative.