◎Cui Guanlan, you’re the one who’s soft-hearted◎

Facing the inexplicable anger of the person before him, Zhang Yiran frowned deeply. He instinctively protected the flute and only asked: “Who are you?”

Seeing Zhang Yiran’s gesture of protecting the flute, Xie Heng laughed.

He had long heard of Zhang Yiran’s reputation as a hothead, but had only heard it in passing before.

He had originally been the third-place scholar in the imperial examinations, taking Wei Xinzhong, the Grand Secretary, as his master. By rights, his future should have been boundless, but precisely because he was too upright and rash, the Emperor disliked him and demoted him to the Ministry of Works as a mere supernumerary secretary.

He had never dealt with this kind of person before. Now seeing him for the first time, he understood why His Majesty disliked him.

But he had no intention of conflicting with such a person either. He adjusted his emotions, suppressed his killing intent, and smiled: “I am the Shadow Envoy of Inspector Liu. I came following the flute sound. I wonder why my Inspector gave the short flute to you, and where is she now?”

“I don’t know where she is.”

Zhang Yiran knew the official structure of the Supervision Department. Hearing this person was a Shadow Envoy, he relaxed somewhat, but still maintained his last bit of vigilance, only saying: “Since you’re her Shadow Envoy, go find her yourself.”

“Since Minister Zhang doesn’t know, then I’ll take my leave. But my Inspector’s short flute,” Xie Heng stared at the short flute in his hand, his smile turning cold, “shouldn’t it be returned?”

“Her belongings should wait for her to come herself…”

Before Zhang Yiran could finish speaking, Xie Heng was already before him, moving fast as a ghost, somehow having seized the short flute.

Zhang Yiran was so startled that he stepped back half a step. Xie Heng raised his hand and clenched it—the short flute turned to powder and fell from his hand.

“I’ve collected the short flute for her. Since you’ve already played it, she need not use it again.”

Xie Heng dusted off his hands and nodded: “Farewell.”

Having said this, he turned to leave. Zhang Yiran pressed his lips together and called out loudly: “Then have her come collect her money.”

Xie Heng turned back in confusion. Zhang Yiran said coldly, “Tell her I didn’t use her gold pearls. I have my official carriage and don’t need her money to buy one.”

“Gold pearls?”

Hearing this, Xie Heng laughed out loud. He immediately realized what Luo Wanqing had done and nodded: “Very good indeed.”

Zhang Yiran didn’t understand. When he looked up again, he saw the person leap to a high place, stepping on branches and leaves, departing under the moon.

Xie Heng returned to the Supervision Department and went straight to Luo Wanqing’s residence. He pushed the door open directly to find the room empty.

Seeing this, he was certain in his heart—the eavesdropper tonight was most likely Liu Xiniang.

After teaching her for so long, she had used all her skills on him.

He didn’t know whether to praise her cleverness and quick learning, or scold her for not knowing what was good for her.

But if she was indeed the eavesdropper today, then she was probably in danger now. Li Guiyu was no ordinary person—he couldn’t possibly leave witnesses alive. If he hadn’t killed her then, he must have poisoned her severely.

Carrying poison, how far could she run? And where did she go?

If she were alone, she would have collapsed by now and should have been found by Xuanshan.

Since Xuanshan hadn’t found her and she wasn’t in her room, someone must be hiding her.

Someone helping her… besides Cui Heng and the Supervision Department, who else would help her?

Xie Heng ran through names in his mind and thought of one person.

Thinking that Luo Wanqing was with that person, he couldn’t help but raise his hand to his forehead and shake his head, laughing out loud.

A petty official she’d only met twice—she gave him a flute and gold pearls.

A young master she’d only known for two days, but kept protecting—he was the one she turned to for help in a crisis.

He had known her earlier and done more for her, but at this moment, instead of seeking help from him, Cui Heng, she went to Qin Jue.

How inappropriate of him.

Xie Heng looked up toward Qin Jue’s courtyard.

His face turned cold as he headed directly toward Qin Jue’s courtyard.

He should have a good, good chat with Liu Xiniang.

Xie Heng moved quickly. When he arrived, Qin Jue had just finished giving Luo Wanqing medicine.

He had spent half an hour brewing the medicine. Luo Wanqing felt herself growing colder and colder, her consciousness becoming more and more blurred.

When Qin Jue fed her the medicine, her vision kept going black, and her internal organs began to ache faintly.

After taking the medicine, knowing it was useless, she panted shallowly and instructed: “Bring me the medicine dregs—I’ll apply them to the wound.”

Qin Jue frowned. Seeing Luo Wanqing’s condition, he knew it wasn’t good, but he was powerless to help. He could only fetch the medicine dregs and say urgently, “Why don’t I take you to the medical clinic?”

Luo Wanqing pressed her lips together and insisted: “Apply the medicine first.”

If it didn’t work, she would go find a doctor.

Seeing that persuasion was useless, Qin Jue handed her the medicine dregs.

Her wound was on her chest, completely covered by her clothing. Qin Jue handed her the medicine, then turned and walked toward the inner room, planning to give her privacy. Luo Wanqing swept her hair behind her, pulled open her clothing, and was about to apply the medicine when she heard a loud “bang” from the door!

Luo Wanqing instantly drew her blade and turned around to see Cui Heng standing in the doorway.

Cui Heng held a small fan in his hand. His gaze swept from Luo Wanqing’s face to her half-opened clothing, then to Qin Jue standing not far away.

Qin Jue reacted first, immediately turning to block in front of Luo Wanqing, seemingly wanting to explain something.

But before he could speak, Cui Heng stepped forward, pushed Qin Jue aside with his fan, and said coldly: “Move aside.”

With that, he stopped in front of Luo Wanqing. Luo Wanqing pulled her clothing closed and stared at him nervously. Cui Heng looked down at her bluish lips and said indifferently: “Xiniang, shall I carry you back?”

Luo Wanqing instinctively sensed that the person before her was in a bad mood. She didn’t dare respond, supporting herself as she stood up and said in a low voice: “I…”

Before she could finish, Cui Heng directly swept her up in his arms, turned, and walked out, warning Qin Jue as he walked: “If you dare follow, I’ll throw that woman in your house out.”

Hearing this, Qin Jue’s pursuit immediately stopped as he watched Cui Heng carry Luo Wanqing away.

Luo Wanqing was carried back to her room by Cui Heng. Once there, he threw her onto the bed, then cut his hand, squeezed blood into the tea water, brought the cup back, grabbed her hair, forced her head back, and poured it down.

Luo Wanqing’s whole body ached terribly, and she could not resist. The tea was poured too hastily—she swallowed urgently but was still choked by the tea water and began coughing violently.

Seeing this, Cui Heng released her hair, threw her back onto the bed, pulled over a chair to sit beside the bed, elegantly seated himself, and gazed at her quietly.

Luo Wanqing knelt on the bed, coughing lightly. After a moment, she felt somewhat better.

Finally having strength, she looked up at Cui Heng: “What did you make me drink?”

“I think it would be more appropriate for me to ask you questions right now.”

Cui Heng opened and closed his folding fan, speaking with a smile.

Luo Wanqing’s expression grew slightly cold. Hearing this tone, she knew Cui Heng had come to interrogate her.

With his intelligence, he should have guessed that tonight’s target of the Supervision Department’s search was her. So now he was interrogating her.

But her condition didn’t allow him to interrogate her. She said in a low voice: “You can ask, but give me medicine first.”

With that, she tried to get off the bed, but as soon as she moved, Cui Heng’s fan landed on Luo Wanqing’s shoulder. She immediately felt as if a thousand pounds had fallen on her shoulder.

She looked up coldly to see Cui Heng looking down at her, asking coldly: “Where is the flute I gave you?”

Luo Wanqing was startled—she hadn’t expected him to ask about this.

Luo Wanqing didn’t speak. She wasn’t sure if Cui Heng knew where the short flute had gone. She only instinctively felt that the current Cui Heng was very dangerous.

She didn’t want to involve Zhang Yiran in this danger, so she only said: “You said those were all things the Supervision Department gave me, for me to dispose of as I wished.”

“Is that what I’m asking you?”

Knowing she didn’t want to implicate Zhang Yiran, Cui Heng grew even angrier, staring at her: “Where did you send the flute?”

“What exactly do you want to ask?”

Luo Wanqing pressed the Qianji bead bracelet on her wrist, retreating imperceptibly.

Noticing her movement, Cui Heng looked up and said coldly: “What do you think I should ask?”

“I think you should…”

Before she finished speaking, Luo Wanqing’s Qianji bead bracelet struck directly at Cui Heng.

But Cui Heng seemed prepared. He grabbed the bracelet with one hand, seized the woman preparing to flee with the other, twisted her arm behind her back, pressed her onto the bed, and said coldly: “Should I ask if you went up the back mountain tonight?”

Luo Wanqing wasn’t surprised at all. Sensing killing intent, she turned and drew her hairpin to stab!

Cui Heng moved faster, directly using the bead bracelet to bind and pull her attacking hand, then engaged the mechanism, tying both her hands behind her back, continuing: “Or should I ask if you’re an assassin from Fengyu Pavilion?”

Luo Wanqing said nothing. After those two fighting moves, her vision went black in waves. Lying on the bed, her whole body ached with cold sweat.

Cui Heng looked at her condition and seemed somewhat disappointed. He pressed his lips together, raised his hand to untie the Qianji binding her, and pressed acupuncture points on her body.

Luo Wanqing realized he was helping her expel the poison. Lying on the bed, she pressed her lips tightly and didn’t dare speak.

Cui Heng’s fingertips forced the poison along her spine, driving all the toxins to the wound on her chest, saying indifferently: “Actually, I don’t care about any of these things. I’m only angry about one thing today.”

He followed her spine up to her neck, then suddenly applied force, gripping her neck and forcing her to raise her head.

He bent down, leaning close to her ear, asking coldly: “Why are you better to them than to me?”

Luo Wanqing was startled hearing his words.

He didn’t ask what she had done, but asked this?

She keenly sensed his concern was somewhat skewed and frowned, only asking: “Why are you angry?”

Xie Heng was startled. Luo Wanqing turned to look at him and asked calmly: “Why don’t you ask what I did?”

Hearing this, Cui Heng laughed lightly.

“If you had malicious intentions, you would just want to kill Xie Heng.”

Cui Heng said, straightening up and looking down at Luo Wanqing: “But your blade can’t even touch me, let alone him?”

These words carried contempt. Luo Wanqing pressed her lips tightly, growing angry.

Cui Heng noticed her displeasure, released his grip on her, and said indifferently: “Next time you use Qianji, be decisive. If you had used the Violent Rainstorm Pear Blossom Needles directly on the first strike, you might have escaped by now. In the future, when you fight, don’t be soft-hearted…”

Before he finished speaking, Luo Wanqing suddenly pounced!

Cui Heng’s pupils contracted sharply as he raised his hand to strike.

But the woman didn’t dodge or avoid—she charged straight into his palm strike. Knowing the power of meeting this palm directly, Xie Heng hastily withdrew his hand, and in that instant, Luo Wanqing’s blade pressed against his throat.

Xie Heng was stunned. Luo Wanqing knelt on one knee on the bed, her hair disheveled, her clothing half-fallen, revealing her smooth shoulders and neck.

Her lips still carried the bright red from drinking his blood earlier, her chest bore the wound with dark blood. Her skin was white as magnolia, tender as jade, and against this blood-red backdrop, if not for that face, she should have been beautiful as a demon.

The cold blade pressed against his throat. Xie Heng stared at her in a daze as the woman before him stared back determinedly and said stubbornly, “I touched you.”

Hearing this, “I touched you,” Xie Heng finally realized what she was doing.

She was refuting his earlier statement that “your blade can’t even touch me.”

Xie Heng was speechless.

This was the first time in his life someone had held a blade to his vital point.

He looked at the woman before him with some surprise. Luo Wanqing rose slightly, moving closer to him.

Their breaths intertwined. Luo Wanqing stared into his eyes and reminded him: “Cui Guanlan, you’re the soft-hearted one. I’ll ask again—why don’t you ask what I did?”

Hearing this, Xie Heng looked up into her eyes.

Her eyes were very beautiful. From the moment he met her, these eyes had hidden an unsharpened blade. He had personally honed it, watching this blade gradually reveal its clear, bright gleam.

He had guided her, led her, and personally shaped her bones. Everything about her was related to him.

Realizing this, his heartstrings trembled slightly. His gaze fell on the wound on her chest, feeling it was like a brilliantly blooming crabapple flower.

For the first time in his life, he felt desire for someone, and this person held a blade to his throat.

He closed his eyes, feeling it incomprehensible, but ultimately accepting it.

He laughed softly.

“You’re right.”

He was the soft-hearted one; he was the one who lost.

With that, he raised both hands, gently grasping her shoulders. Luo Wanqing was startled, then saw the young man lean toward her without hesitation, bending his head down.

He came decisively.

As he approached, Luo Wanqing’s blade could only retreat accordingly. Before she could react, he buried himself at her chest, pressing his lips directly to her wound.

Luo Wanqing’s whole body trembled. Just as she was about to say something, she felt the young man part his lips and gently suck at her wound.

Her blood flowed from the wound between his lips, as if binding the two of them together in some indescribable relationship.

Luo Wanqing’s body stiffened as she realized what he was doing.

She suppressed the tremor from being suckled, comforting herself that he was saving someone, rigidly turning her head away without making a sound.

Cui Heng sucked out all her poisoned blood, spat the dark blood onto a handkerchief, then raised his head to look at the woman who was barely maintaining her composure.

His lips were stained with blood, extraordinarily vivid, like a beautiful demon gazing at the cool-faced woman in the night.

Luo Wanqing had kept her body rigid throughout, not daring to look at him.

Cui Heng watched for a moment, then laughed softly.

“Just now you held a blade to me, but now you won’t acknowledge me.”

With that, he raised his hand to help her pull up her clothing, but as soon as he touched her, she trembled, then, as if suddenly awakening, quickly said: “I’ll do it myself.”

Cui Heng watched silently as she dressed herself. The two sat quietly on the bed. After a moment, Cui Heng finally spoke with some fatigue: “Tell me, what mischief did you get up to tonight? Assassinating the Director?”

Luo Wanqing shook her head.

Cui Heng thought about it, then understood: “You’re interested in Li Guiyu?”

Zhang Yiran lived right by Li Guiyu’s door. She gave the flute to Zhang Yiran, and tonight, when Li Guiyu came, Zhang Yiran played the flute. She was watching Li Guiyu.

Unexpectedly, Cui Heng was so perceptive. Luo Wanqing didn’t speak. Thinking about it, she realized Cui Heng knew the flute was with Zhang Yiran.

She couldn’t figure it out and only asked: “You went to Zhang Yiran’s?”

“I did.” Cui Heng’s voice turned cold.

Luo Wanqing was confused: “The signal I agreed on with him was different from yours. Why did you still go?”

“Do you think many people have this short flute?” Cui Heng immediately understood her thinking, glanced at her, and said indifferently: “Recognizing flute sounds depends on tone, not signals.”

Hearing this, Luo Wanqing knew this short flute was probably another case of Cui Heng pulling strings.

She hesitated: “I didn’t realize it was so precious.”

Cui Heng didn’t want to hear her say these things—they were all things he didn’t like to hear.

Cui Heng turned away and sulked for a while. Luo Wanqing also said nothing.

The two were silent for a long time before he sighed, seemingly helpless: “Next time, lie to me. Even deceiving me would be better.”

“I don’t want to deceive you.”

Luo Wanqing spoke honestly.

Cui Heng’s movement paused, then he shook his head: “I’ll never listen to your nonsense again.”

“Then don’t lie anymore either.” Luo Wanqing said softly, “What you give me is what you give me. What I deserve is mine. You don’t need to deceive me.”

“I just like deceiving you.”

Cui Heng said impatiently. He got up from the bed and said indifferently, “This poison is too severe. I’ll find someone to prepare medicine for you. Rest well.”

“Cui Heng,” Luo Wanqing called to stop him, pressing her lips together: “Tell the Director. Don’t cover for me.”

Cui Heng turned to look at her and saw Luo Wanqing’s black and white eyes full of seriousness: “I appreciate your kindness, but I don’t want to implicate you.”

Hearing this, Cui Heng smiled coldly: “So you do want to kill Xie Heng?”

Luo Wanqing’s movement paused as she said hesitantly, “Not necessarily kill him.”

Seeing Luo Wanqing being so honest, Cui Heng’s anger flared up.

“Not necessarily”—so she still had thoughts of killing.

He took a deep breath and waved his hand: “Got it. I’ll tell the Director. Rest first and try to stay alive!”

With that, he pushed the door and walked out.

Luo Wanqing watched his retreating figure, pressed her lips together, and finally lay down.

Having gotten Cui Heng’s agreement, though she felt somewhat uneasy not knowing how Xie Heng planned to deal with her, she felt much more comfortable overall.

Cui Heng had cared for her too much—so much it exceeded normal bounds. She didn’t know what it was based on, but whatever it was, as long as he was good to her, she didn’t want to implicate him because of it.

What she did might not be tolerated by the Supervision Department. Cui Heng was, after all, part of the Supervision Department and possibly Xie Heng’s relative. For the Cui family to remain in the Supervision Department, they must owe Xie Heng favors. Cui Guanlan would forever stand on Xie Heng’s side.

She could play dumb and act confused with him, but using someone’s feelings to achieve her goals—how would she be different from Jiang Shaoyan?

Moreover, speaking frankly, it would be good for Cui Heng to be disappointed in her.

She said Cui Heng was soft-hearted, but how was she any different?

Cui Heng was like a gentle haven—the longer one spent with him, the easier it was to become lost in it. But on her path, where was there room for even half a moment of soft-heartedness?

It would be better if he weren’t so good to her.

She lowered her eyes, quietly looking at the bright red wound on her chest, listening to him walk away.

Only when his footsteps completely disappeared did Luo Wanqing relax, simply collapsing onto the bed.

Tomorrow, Xie Heng should know about this matter and summon her. She still needed to carefully plan how to make good use of Xie Heng.

As Luo Wanqing began calculating in her mind, Xie Heng walked out of the room and headed up the mountain.

Qingya was coming over with documents. Seeing Xie Heng, he followed behind with the papers, saying softly: “Young Master, Xuanshan and Zhuque searched the entire Supervision Department tonight but found no one.”

“Mm.” Xie Heng responded, seeming to ponder.

Qingya glanced at Xie Heng’s expression. Seeing he didn’t ask further, he understood Xie Heng knew who had been eavesdropping.

There was only one person Xie Heng would cover for now.

Qingya smiled: “Liu Xiniang?”

“Yes.”

Xie Heng fingered the Qianji bead bracelet in his hand, answering directly: “I plan to have her come see me tomorrow.”

“See you?” Qingya was somewhat surprised. “So soon? I thought you planned to nurture her more.”

Xie Heng didn’t speak. He walked up the steps, thinking of the blade pressed against his throat. After a long while, he said: “Qingya.”

“Please speak, Young Master.”

“She held a blade to my throat.”

At these words, Qingya was stunned for a moment.

Xie Heng spoke calmly: “This beautiful blade is too sharp. I can’t continue sharpening it. Whether she’s to be used by me or broken by me—she must choose.”

Hearing Xie Heng’s words, Qingya relaxed and smiled warmly: “Young Master has his plans.”

Hearing this, Xie Heng tugged at the corner of his mouth but said no more.

Plans?

What plans? This was a miscalculation.

He had always thought that what needed attention in this world were those sharp blades. Only now did he realize that this kind of unsharpened precious blade was the most dangerous.

She had lured him to hone her. Thinking he could control her, he nurtured and indulged her.

Until tonight, he suddenly realized this blade could already be pressed against his throat.

Perhaps it was those eyes that were too captivating, perhaps it was that moment when she came toward him covered in blood, riding her horse, that was too stunning. It could also be that her flesh and bones were shaped by him, or that her rapid growth gave her mentor a sense of achievement…

Whatever it was, while her identity remained unclear, she could already hold a blade to his throat. That was the fact.

She asked him why he was angry, why he didn’t ask about other things.

He had also thought about it for a long time.

Why was he angry?

Perhaps because watching her grow all along, he had become too immersed in the “sense of being needed” she gave him. Unknowingly, he had placed her within an overly intimate boundary.

He had never been a gentleman to begin with. As a child, he loved having things to himself. Growing up, this violent temper seemed unchanged, only better concealed.

She was personally guided by him into this path, her flesh and bones all shaped by him.

Naturally, he thought she was his blade; she belonged to him.

Everything could be used by him, everything was under his control.

But now, looking back, he suddenly discovered that actually, no.

He had never truly controlled her.

On the road to the eastern capital, when he took her for an assassin, wanted to test her, planned to kill her, in the end, she fought desperately to reach him, making him feel pity from guilt, and shape her bones.

During the Supervision Department assessment, she single-handedly protected Qin Jue, calculated, and killed Zhao Yuyan. The entire Supervision Department was shaken and wanted to deal with her. He thought of her as a chess piece in his game with others, wanting to completely tame this sharp blade of unknown origin for his use. But in the end, on this very night, she held a blade to his throat.

He showed her small kindnesses and gentleness, wanting her complete devotion, but when he turned around, she trusted Qin Jue more than him. Instead, it was he himself who became angry from embarrassment, acting despicably.

…

Everything about her was too unexpected.

Thinking himself the hunter, only to be bitten at the vital point by his prey—was there anything more absurd?

Xie Heng laughed at himself.

If she were an ordinary woman, it would be fine, but she was decidedly not.

She had close connections with Fengyu Pavilion, and her identity was questionable. If she truly was an assassin, given time, she indeed might take his life.

Such danger made him rapidly alert, even somewhat panicked in his retreat.

Far beyond his plans.

Xie Heng pondered, turning to glance at the small building where the woman lived in the distance.

Wind brushed through his slightly sweaty black hair as he looked at the lights in that small building. His lips couldn’t help but want to softly call that name.

Xiniang.

Calling it alone like this, he finally realized why he so loved calling her name.

It turned out, from this name onwards, that it had been both command and seduction.

Xi-niang. Cherish, maiden.