◎What do you take me for? What do you take Cui Heng for?◎

These words exploded like thunder in Luo Wanqing’s ears, leaving her speechless.

Xie Heng looked at her calmly. The waist beneath his palm was rigid—this person’s body was more honest than she was, leaving no room for sophistry.

Seeing that she understood his meaning, Xie Heng also calmed down, loosening his grip to release her.

But in that instant, Luo Wanqing suddenly pressed down on Xie Heng’s hand, forcing him to keep it on her waist.

Xie Heng’s eyes shot up to see Luo Wanqing staring at him persistently.

“I can learn.” Luo Wanqing met his cold gaze and moved closer. Though extremely nervous, she still pretended to be calm and said seriously: “Please, Young Master, teach me.”

Xie Heng said nothing, his entire body tense.

Whether born with such boldness or emboldened by alcohol, Luo Wanqing suppressed her pounding heartbeat and dared to let her hand slide along Xie Heng’s palm, tentatively slipping into his wide sleeves.

The moment his arm was touched, Xie Heng jolted awake as if scorched by her. He struck out with the speed that left Luo Wanqing completely unable to resist, gripping her neck and pressing her hard against a tree, shouting coldly: “What are you doing?!”

“Proving to Young Master,” Luo Wanqing tilted her head slightly to give herself breathing room, “that I can go to Prince Guang’an’s manor.”

“Proving?” Xie Heng laughed bitterly in his fury. “How do you prove it?”

As he spoke, he couldn’t help applying pressure with his hand, staring fixedly at Luo Wanqing’s lips parted for breath, watching that hint of moisture on her tongue tip. He leaned close to her and asked quietly: “What do you take me for? What do you take Cui Heng for?!”

Luo Wanqing looked up in confusion, momentarily not understanding what Xie Heng was asking or what this had to do with Cui Heng.

She breathed with difficulty, asking in puzzlement: “Young Master?”

Hearing this question, Xie Heng suddenly realized what he had asked.

He pressed his lips tight, unable to speak, his breathing somewhat uncontrollably chaotic, unclear whether from anger or something else.

He gripped Luo Wanqing’s neck, for a moment wanting to strangle her here, yet knowing the fault lay not with her but with himself.

What she said wasn’t wrong—Li Guiyu indeed needed someone watching him. Now Li Guiyu definitely wouldn’t kill her, so she was naturally the best choice. Since she was willing, he had no reason to object.

But she had provoked him.

If she provoked him, that was fine—he could force her to stay, refuse if he refused. He had countless methods to compel her.

But he couldn’t bring himself to act.

He stared at Luo Wanqing, who looked at him nervously and fearfully, her skin under his fingers seeming to stick to his fingertips.

After a long time, he finally steeled himself and pushed her aside.

Luo Wanqing staggered to steady herself, hearing him say coldly: “Stay away from me.”

With that, he turned to leave. Seeing this, Luo Wanqing quickly knelt and pleaded: “Please grant permission, Young Master!”

Xie Heng stopped, his back to Luo Wanqing as he clenched his fists.

After a long time, he closed his eyes as if resigned to fate: “What exactly do you want to do?”

Luo Wanqing looked up in confusion. Xie Heng said with certainty: “Even if you go to his side now, you can’t kill him. What would you do by his side?!”

“This subordinate…” Luo Wanqing hesitated. “This subordinate wants to understand some past events.”

“What do you want to know?”

Xie Heng turned back to look at her coldly. Luo Wanqing fell silent.

Just as Xie Heng thought she wouldn’t answer and prepared to continue scolding, she suddenly spoke: “I want to know what my father did back then.”

Luo Wanqing looked at Xie Heng seriously: “I want to know why he killed himself. Why did Li Guiyu frame the Luo family? What happened in the past?”

“What difference does knowing make?” Xie Heng said coldly. “After all, he killed your father. If you’re going to kill him, just kill him. What’s the need to understand the past?”

“There’s a line in the Supervision Department’s ‘Code,'” Luo Wanqing heard Xie Heng’s words and answered without humility or arrogance. “Crime and punishment should match. Even if he killed my father, I should understand why he became what he is today, rather than killing him in such confusion.”

Hearing this, Xie Heng froze.

The ‘Code’—that was the life’s work of Cui Qingping and many others, the principle by which the entire Supervision Department operated.

But at this moment, he suddenly hated this principle.

He stared at Luo Wanqing kneeling on the ground, for the first time—or perhaps again—so aware of the difference between them.

He was an evil ghost wandering the world through killing and slaughter, while she was an Avalokiteśvara sitting on a lotus platform despite being covered in mud.

But what he admired and valued from the beginning was precisely her nature that aligned with this principle.

He couldn’t destroy her character, couldn’t even refute it.

He turned away uncomfortably, saying nothing.

Luo Wanqing knelt quietly on the ground, waiting for an answer.

After a long time, Xie Heng finally spoke.

“If I made you choose…”

Luo Wanqing looked up in confusion.

Xie Heng’s voice stopped. He pressed his lips tight and said no more.

Choose—what was there to choose?

What was Cui Heng?

Cui Heng was just the wings that sheltered her, a passerby she wouldn’t even think of when avenging her friend.

What could Cui Heng use to stop her desire to go to Li Guiyu’s side?

Speaking would only bring humiliation. He forced himself to shut up and turned away.

“Young Master?”

“Your father’s affairs are related to Cui Qingping and have long been filed separately by the Supervision Department. The mission tablet is in the secret chamber—within the Supervision Department, only Chiefs and above can take the case.”

Xie Heng finally spoke. Hearing this, Luo Wanqing’s eyes widened as she looked at Xie Heng in surprise.

“Li Guiyu doesn’t necessarily know more than the Supervision Department.” Xie Heng clenched his fists, not looking at her as he said coldly, “I’ll give you one chance. If you can become a fifth-rank Inspector within three months, I’ll allow you into the secret chamber. All your father’s files and records will be available to you. But,” Xie Heng turned to look at her, speaking unusually seriously, “you cannot go to Prince Guang’an’s manor.”

“Why?”

As soon as Xie Heng finished speaking, she reacted—Xie Heng was giving her special privileges.

The secret chamber that only the Four Chiefs could enter—she could enter it just by becoming a fifth-rank Inspector within three months. Xie Heng would rather open this back door for her than let her go to Prince Guang’an’s manor?

Xie Heng also understood what he was doing. He pressed his lips together, and after a long time, only said: “Cui Heng is unwilling.”

Unexpectedly, this was the answer. Luo Wanqing was somewhat surprised.

“You are an Inspector he cultivated.” Xie Heng saw her surprise and suppressed his emotions as he said, “He couldn’t control the past, but in the future, he won’t want you taking this path. Since you’ve entered the Supervision Department, be a good Inspector.”

Hearing this, Luo Wanqing’s gaze flickered.

Xie Heng didn’t pay her any more attention, turning to step forward and instructing: “Go back and rest well.”

Hearing this, Luo Wanqing quickly bowed respectfully: “Thank you, Young Master.”

“Luo Wanqing,” Xie Heng heard her voice and stopped again. Standing before the courtyard, he couldn’t help saying: “Remember what you said.”

Luo Wanqing was startled, then saw him step into the courtyard.

Luo Wanqing knelt on the ground, waiting until Xie Heng’s figure completely disappeared before respectfully saying: “This subordinate will remember.”

She had pushed him toward the path of death with her hand—she dared not forget her promise.

Only after Xie Heng left did Luo Wanqing finally stand up. Pondering Xie Heng’s words, she walked toward her room.

Xie Heng wouldn’t let her go to Prince Guang’an’s manor because of Cui Heng. This showed their relationship was extremely good, and Cui Heng’s position in the Supervision Department might be higher than she had imagined.

Throughout this journey, Cui Heng had shaped her bones, taught her martial arts, led her to learn everything a Supervision Department Inspector should know, and now still so carefully protected her growth. How could there be such good people in this world?

Thinking of Cui Heng, her thoughts of going to Prince Guang’an’s manor also dissipated.

She suddenly missed him very much, but as soon as this longing arose, she forcibly suppressed it.

She didn’t dare think too much, turning her thoughts seriously to the conditions Xie Heng had proposed.

The Supervision Department’s Inspectors all held official positions within their ranks. Unless Xie Heng or the Emperor specially promoted them, each Inspector’s advancement depended on year-end evaluations.

But the Supervision Department was different from other offices—Inspector promotions mainly depended on missions completed each year. The number and difficulty of missions all affected advancement.

To get promoted, there were essentially two paths: either high risk, high reward—complete one big case in a year—or rely honestly on quantity, handling many small cases with good evaluation scores.

She was currently in sixth rank and needed to reach fifth rank, equivalent to advancing two levels.

It was now April, and the Supervision Department’s annual evaluation was in June, so Xie Heng was giving her two paths.

Accumulate enough missions for a two-level jump before June and participate in the evaluation.

Or take on one big case that could justify a two-level jump.

The latter suited her better, but such cases weren’t necessarily available. Whether there were any, she’d have to check the mission hall tomorrow.

Luo Wanqing calculated as she returned to her room. Just reaching the door, she sensed someone had been in her room.

Looking up, she discovered an extra box on her desk.

She walked to the desk and opened the box to find a golden hairpin inside.

The hairpin was a golden butterfly with flowing tassels below, also hung with small butterflies. Each butterfly was carved extremely delicately, even trembling their wings with the wearer’s movements, lifelike.

A note was pressed in the box. Luo Wanqing picked up the paper to see Cui Heng’s plum blossom calligraphy: “Congratulations to Inspector Liu on her first achievement. Unable to attend tonight’s celebration banquet in time, I specially present this golden butterfly hairpin to the beauty, seeking forgiveness.”

Seeing the words “beauty,” Luo Wanqing naturally imagined his frivolous manner when saying this and couldn’t help but smile.

She held the hairpin up to the candlelight, watching the butterflies gleam brilliantly.

She had received many such gifts before.

Every time Jiang Shaoyan saw something beautiful—hairpins, step-shakers, bracelets, various jewelry, even a cup or box—he would buy it for her.

Once seeing a household’s food box that looked nice, he even had an identical one made for her.

But these didn’t belong to Liu Xiniang.

She didn’t need these things anymore.

But seeing this hairpin from Cui Heng, she still felt somewhat happy, as if finally found that tiny connection between Liu Xiniang and Luo Wanqing in this world.

She looked at the hairpin seriously for a while, unable to restrain herself from touching the bamboo flute at her waist.

But after stroking it for a long time, she finally let go.

Cui Heng couldn’t even attend the celebration banquet today, probably having urgent business. If he returned, he would naturally come to find her.

Keeping him as a Shadow Envoy was already her transgression—at least she shouldn’t cause him trouble. Unless it was urgent, she shouldn’t casually blow the flute.

She suppressed the urge to find him, washed up, and returned to bed.

Lying in bed looking at the bed curtains, she realized this day was over.

The Dark Pavilion was gone, Zhang Jiuran was dead, she had killed the Crown Prince, Xie Heng had returned to that path of death, and Li Guiyu might have discovered her.

In the future, she truly would never see Zhang Jiuran again.

Never drink with her again.

Luo Wanqing slept hazily all night. She hadn’t slept well recently, and this sleep was extremely deep. When she woke the next day, it was already past si hour—morning court was over.

She lay in bed recovering for a while, then got up, washed, changed her medicine, went down the mountain to eat something, and found Baili to ask about Cui Heng’s situation.

Hearing she was looking for Cui Heng, Baili seemed surprised: “He didn’t find you last night?”

“He came,” Luo Wanqing said honestly, “but only left a note and left.”

Hearing this, Baili looked thoughtful: “I see…”

“If Master can contact him, please help me pass a message,” Luo Wanqing said respectfully. “If he has time, he can come find me. I… have some matters to discuss with him.”

Afraid the message might be distorted, Luo Wanqing quickly emphasized: “It’s not urgent.”

Hearing this, Baili smiled.

“Alright.”

Baili smiled: “I’ll pass it along.”

Hearing Baili agree, Luo Wanqing happily bowed, then went to Qin Jue’s courtyard to check the situation.

When she arrived, she found servants moving things.

Qin Jue stood at the door wearing mourning white. Seeing Luo Wanqing, he was startled. Luo Wanqing explained: “I came to see Jiuran and you.”

Hearing this, Qin Jue nodded calmly, then said: “Yesterday His Majesty issued an edict unsealing the Qin family’s confiscated property. My father had a residence in the Eastern Capital. Today I’m taking Jiuran back to set up a proper mourning hall for her.”

Listening, Luo Wanqing felt calm but also somewhat uncomfortable. She thought for a moment and asked: “What about afterward? You don’t plan to stay in the Eastern Capital permanently, do you?”

“Originally my father didn’t want to conflict with the court and didn’t want to implicate clansmen, so he allowed the court to take him away. Therefore, our family’s retainers and clansmen are still there. When they come to the Eastern Capital to receive me, I’ll return to Jinling with them.”

Qin Jue patiently responded. Luo Wanqing nodded.

She glanced at the empty mourning hall and thought of Zhang Yiran: “Where is Lord Zhang?”

“He’ll come later to take Jiuran away with me.”

“How does he plan to tell Aunt Zhao?”

“Before I leave, I’ll visit Aunt once,” Qin Jue’s voice was calm. “I’ll show Aunt the marriage certificate between Jiuran and me, then tell her that Jiuran is going to the northwest to seek the pinnacle of martial arts, and I’m going with her. We don’t know when we’ll return. Jiuran fears seeing her would bring disaster to her and Lord Zhang, so she won’t see her but asks her to write letters when she has time. Aunt is illiterate, so Lord Zhang will reply for her.”

Seeing they had arranged everything, Luo Wanqing felt relieved.

After a moment of silence, Luo Wanqing finally remembered to tell him: “The Crown Prince is dead.”

Qin Jue paused. He looked up, and in their mutual gaze, everything needed no words.

After a long time, Qin Jue’s lips trembled as he said hoarsely: “Thank you.”

“Take Jiuran back,” Luo Wanqing lowered her eyes. “Remember to offer her more wine—she always said she hadn’t drunk enough. After leaving the Supervision Department…”

Luo Wanqing spoke with unusual difficulty: “I won’t go see her.”

The fewer connections between her and Zhang Jiuran, the less likely the Crown Prince’s matter would be traced to her.

Qin Jue understood. He nodded, then said: “Then go see her now.”

Luo Wanqing looked up at the small courtyard. With people coming and going, a coffin placed in the center, she seemed to see that day when Zhang Jiuran woke up, when she had hurried over to find her sitting in the courtyard, gently basking in sunlight.

Her eyes reddened slightly. After hesitating a moment, she finally stepped into the room.

She walked to Zhang Jiuran’s coffin, looking down at the person lying peacefully inside. After looking for a long time, not knowing what to say.

Finally, she just raised her hand and gently patted the coffin board, just like Zhang Jiuran used to do.

She liked patting others’ hands to comfort them.

“Jiuran,” she said hoarsely, “go well.”

Until we meet again in the next life.

The person in the coffin didn’t respond. Luo Wanqing couldn’t stay any longer. She took a deep breath, turned to bid farewell to Qin Jue, and left the small courtyard.

Her mood somewhat low, she relied on reason to reach the Azure Dragon Division’s mission hall.

The mission hall was bustling with people. She entered the main hall to see a huge wooden board divided into ten horizontal sections from top to bottom, from third rank to eighth rank, with rank levels written on the left and mission wooden plaques hanging on the right.

Eighth rank was the Supervision Department’s lowest official rank, third rank the highest. The higher the level, the fewer wooden plaques.

This was Luo Wanqing’s first time coming to the mission hall alone. Since entering the Supervision Department, she had always been forced forward—this was her first time actively coming to accept missions.

Cui Heng had brought her here before, briefly explaining the rules.

Whatever rank she was, she could take corresponding missions. If she wanted to take missions above her level, it had to be ones that same-rank Inspectors hadn’t taken and were marked urgent.

Urgent plaques were marked in red. If taking missions two or more levels above, successful completion allowed promotion one level below the mission level.

For example, taking a third-rank mission allowed promotion to associate third rank after completion; taking an associate fifth-rank mission allowed promotion to sixth rank.

If she wanted to advance to fifth-rank Inspector, she needed at least an associate fourth-rank mission.

But at this moment, looking at the wooden board with mission plaques, there weren’t even many fifth-rank missions, let alone urgent associate fourth-rank ones.

It seemed advancing through one mission was currently impossible—she could only rely on quantity.

Calculating the time from now in April to June, she needed to complete two hundred cases to have a chance at promotion.

Luo Wanqing pressed her lips together. Having no other option, she simply walked forward and began taking all the sixth-rank missions one by one.

Her actions in taking mission plaques one by one alarmed all the surrounding Inspectors. When she had taken about half, a clerk recording missions finally realized something was wrong and hastily stood up: “Wait, what is this Inspector doing?”

Luo Wanqing, holding a pile of mission plaques, said somewhat embarrassedly: “Taking missions.”

“Is this how you take missions?” The clerk looked her up and down disapprovingly. “You take all the missions—what do other Inspectors do? And can you complete so many? You’ll be punished if you can’t finish!”

“I will do my utmost.” Luo Wanqing said seriously.

The clerk laughed angrily: “Utmost what utmost! Put the mission plaques back! Maximum three at a time—finish them before coming back for more!”

Hearing this, Luo Wanqing had no choice but to return the mission plaques, randomly selecting three that looked easier, and took the plaques to the clerk for registration.

The clerk recorded while commenting strangely: “Where did you learn to be an Inspector? Each Inspector only needs to complete three missions a month to receive monthly salary. Are you that short of money to take so many missions?”

Missions all had bonuses—Inspectors short of money indeed did more.

But they’d never seen anyone this desperate.

Luo Wanqing listened and said honestly: “I want to get promoted quickly.”

The clerk paused, then said: “Alright then, I’ll keep an eye out—some plaques aren’t hung out.”

Luo Wanqing looked up in surprise. The clerk handed her the mission plaques: “Go on, Inspector Liu.”

“Go on.” The clerk looked at her and called her name: “Inspector Liu.”

Luo Wanqing was startled, seeing the clerk lower his head as if knowing nothing.

Luo Wanqing realized this clerk recognized her and couldn’t help smiling: “May I ask the clerk’s honored name?”

“Liu Jianye.” The clerk nodded with some pride: “Chief Baili is my wife.”

Hearing this, Luo Wanqing’s eyes lit up, but she didn’t dare say more, understanding this person initially pretended not to know her to avoid favoritism. She happily bowed: “Thank you.”

With that, she walked out.

She didn’t dare take missions like surveillance that took too much time, only accepting ones that could be quickly resolved.

But just as she stepped outside, she saw Li Guiyu’s carriage waiting at the Supervision Department entrance.

Luo Wanqing’s expression grew stern. Li Guiyu lifted the carriage curtain, looking up at Luo Wanqing: “Inspector Liu.”

“Third Prince.”

Luo Wanqing raised her hand in salute. Li Guiyu looked around, then said: “I’ve been waiting for Inspector Liu for a long time. Would it be convenient to talk privately?”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Luo Wanqing directly refused, saying calmly: “I have nothing to discuss with Your Highness.”

Li Guiyu now was definitely investigating the Crown Prince’s assassination. Meeting him alone, she didn’t know if he had methods to connect this matter to her.

Being caught for assassinating the Crown Prince was minor—at most it was one life.

But implicating Xie Heng—that she wouldn’t accept.

Hearing the refusal in her tone, Li Guiyu didn’t move.

He stared at her, examining her as if wanting to carve every inch from hair to fingertips into his eyes, searching for traces of a certain person.

“It seems,” but after looking for a long time, disappointment appeared in his eyes, “Inspector Liu has made her decision?”

“Yes.” Luo Wanqing answered calmly. “This subordinate just entered the Supervision Department recently and should start with the most basic matters. Your Highness is of noble imperial blood—this subordinate and Your Highness are like clouds and mud, different worlds. I dare not presume.”

Hearing this, Li Guiyu’s expression cooled somewhat.

He stared at Luo Wanqing and laughed softly: “If my young lady were here, she would never say such words.”

Luo Wanqing’s expression didn’t change. Li Guiyu picked up a tea bowl lid, turning it in his hand: “Does Inspector Liu know that pottery shards used for suicide hurt more than porcelain?”

Hearing this, Luo Wanqing suddenly clenched her fists. She lowered her head silently, hiding the emotions in her eyes.

Li Guiyu looked at her and chuckled: “If my young lady were in the Eastern Capital, she would never forget what she came here to do. She would spare no cost to come to my side. Others are just tools and chess pieces—only I am her sole desire.”

Luo Wanqing slowly raised her head. Li Guiyu stared at her, his eyes half-mad, half-smiling: “What does Inspector Liu think?”

“I’m not familiar with Miss Luo—only learned a bit about her for mission purposes.” Luo Wanqing controlled her emotions, her gaze falling on Li Guiyu’s face. “If Your Highness thinks so, perhaps it is so.”

This answer was too perfunctory. Li Guiyu was speechless.

They faced off for a moment. Li Guiyu’s expression grew cold. He seemed tired, lowering the curtain and saying lightly: “Let’s go.”

Luo Wanqing watched Li Guiyu leave.

After the carriage traveled far, Zitang jumped onto the carriage, whispering: “Your Majesty, should I kidnap this woman?”

“Continue investigating the Crown Prince’s assassination while waiting for news from Yangzhou. Keep watching the Supervision Department—drag them out until the Eastern Palace accounts and people are properly handled before letting them through. Taking over all of Li Shangwen’s positions is what matters.”

Having seen this meeting, Li Guiyu seemed to calm down again. He picked up his teacup, his tone flat: “The possibility she’s the young lady is small—no need to bother with her anymore.”

Hearing this, Zitang was somewhat surprised: “Your Highness no longer suspects?”

“If it were the young lady, she would definitely come to my side.”

Li Guiyu lowered his eyes, trying hard to suppress that slight tremor in his heart, saying with certainty: “She’s not her.”

Li Guiyu’s carriage traveled far away. Luo Wanqing stared fixedly at him until the carriage turned the corner and completely disappeared from sight before forcing herself to look away.

That moment just now, she really wanted to kill him.

But she also realized this was his test.

He was using her father’s death to anger her, reminding her that he suspected her identity. Since she refused to go to his manor, he had no way to investigate and could only use this method.

But since she had already promised Xie Heng not to go to the manor, she wouldn’t actively expose herself.

Completing Xie Heng’s requirements quickly was more urgent now.

All these chaotic thoughts—Zhang Jiuran, Li Guiyu—should be buried for now. Work was more important.

Luo Wanqing took a deep breath, stopped overthinking, and turned back to work.

In the morning, she completed her first mission, catching a skilled disguise artist and small thief at a gambling house. This thief had no real skills except excellent lightness skills and disguise abilities, running very fast. Fortunately, he loved gambling and women—she sat in the gambling house and he walked into her trap, caught on the spot.

In the afternoon, she completed her second mission, investigating the cause of death of a household’s male head whose wife had recently died. She directly opened the coffin for autopsy, found poison containing a very special medicinal ingredient sold by only one pharmacy in the Eastern Capital. This ingredient had to be used fresh, so she checked the three-day purchase list and found it was a maid from his residence. This maid had been violated by him and killed him in anger. Luo Wanqing arrested her and threw her into the Supervision Department.

The third mission was stealing a look at a document in an official’s home.

After a busy day, the next day Luo Wanqing went to take more missions.

She spent several busy days like this. Major cases weren’t available to newcomers like her—she could only take missions and run around on cases.

Today following people to raid human traffickers’ doors, tomorrow raiding gambling dens, the day after crouching on some official’s rooftop listening to him badmouth the Emperor in bed, recording faithfully.

One day she worked late into the night. It rained at night, and Luo Wanqing was somewhat hungry. She bought a flatbread and casually found some steps to sit in a doorway, eating the bread while watching the rain.

After watching for a while, she heard voices behind her.

“The roster Director Xie wants will be delivered promptly—please rest assured, Director.”

Hearing this, Luo Wanqing turned back in surprise to see a young official walking out with Xie Heng.

This young official wore crimson robes, his face showing a gentle smile, his jawline remarkably similar to Xie Heng’s, particularly noticeable in the lamplight.

Standing together, they actually showed no resemblance at all—Xie Heng’s temperament was too cold, while this person was radiant as spring sun.

But Luo Wanqing paid too much attention to others’ jawlines, which let her spot their similarity at a glance.

This was the official who had pretended to be Cui Heng and delivered the Qin family files to her in the palace last time.

Luo Wanqing couldn’t help staring at him, her heart racing, unable to tell whether this person was actually Cui Heng.

Last time, had Cui Heng been impersonating him, or was this Cui Heng’s real identity?

She stared blankly at this crimson-robed youth. The youth, Xie Heng, and Zhuque and Xuanshan following behind Xie Heng all looked at her with some surprise.

“Inspector Liu?” Zhuque spoke first. “What are you doing here?”

“I…” Luo Wanqing finally reacted, shifting her gaze from the crimson-robed youth, holding her flatbread and standing up somewhat embarrassedly. “I was sheltering from rain.”

“Such a coincidence?”

Zhuque looked surprised.

Luo Wanqing bowed to Xie Heng with her flatbread: “Young Master.”

She couldn’t help looking at the crimson-robed youth, knowing she shouldn’t ask but still speaking: “This gentleman is?”

“Oh, I’m Cui Heng, styled Junye, serving as Assistant Minister of Personnel.”

The crimson-robed youth smiled and bowed to Luo Wanqing: “And the young lady is?”

“This is our Supervision Department’s sixth-rank Inspector,” Zhuque introduced Cui Heng, “Liu Xiniang.”

Luo Wanqing pretended calm as she bowed to the youth, but couldn’t help silently repeating his name.

Cui Heng—which “heng”?

Luo Wanqing couldn’t help thinking.

Her heartbeat quickened somewhat.

Xie Heng seemed to sense her thoughts, glanced at her, stepped forward first, and said lightly: “Let’s go back.”

With that, Xie Heng passed by Luo Wanqing and walked down the steps.

Cui Heng, obviously of lower rank, bowed with Luo Wanqing to see Xie Heng off.

Xie Heng led his people toward the carriage at the entrance. After getting in the carriage, he turned back to see Luo Wanqing and Cui Heng standing together at the door, unmoving, and said coldly: “Liu Xiniang.”

Luo Wanqing looked up in surprise, not expecting Xie Heng to call her.

Then she heard Xie Heng command: “Get in.”

Author’s Note:

[Mini Theater]

Xie Heng: “Since she has no feelings for me, I won’t force it. Let’s cut ties—I’ll never pay attention to her again. She can do whatever she wants, look at whoever she wants.”

That evening—

Luo Wanqing stared at Cui Heng in a daze.

Xie Heng: “Liu Xiniang, look at me!!!!!!”

Luo Wanqing: “Huh? What happened to never paying attention to me again?”