Qun Qing gently tugged, and the silk pulled free from his hand, fluttering down.

Lu Huating thought she would turn and leave. Unexpectedly, Qun Qing stood in place, reaching into her sleeve for quite a while before extracting something and holding it before his eyes.

On the plain handkerchief in her palm lay a string of sandalwood beads.

The other party seemed to feel guilty—precisely the right moment to make him accept this loss. Lu Huating indeed fixed his gaze on that colorful knotted cord. Qun Qing said: “The seventeenth bead truly couldn’t be found, so I used a colorful knotted cord to replace it and had a female Daoist re-consecrate it. The Chief Clerk shouldn’t mind, right?”

Lu Huating looked at that colorful knotted cord with apparent mockery, but ultimately said nothing. He’d just extended his hand, not yet touching Qun Qing’s hand, when he heard her solemnly remind him: “You can’t take the handkerchief. I’m not well-off either.”

He’d already taken one.

Lu Huating withdrew his hand, looked aside, and smiled: “Why did the lady change the red thread to one mixed with silver wire? If someone pulled hard from one side, could it sever my wrist?”

After all her effort twisting and testing the thread—Qun Qing never expected he’d make such an association. A wisp of anger arose in her chest: “If the Chief Clerk truly thinks this way, so be it.”

Hearing this, Lu Huating smiled, actually turning sideways and rolling up his sleeve, looking at her unblinkingly with brilliant amusement in his smile: “Even if the lady poisoned the colorful knotted cord, I’d dare accept it without question.”

With that, he raised his wrist, meaning for Qun Qing to help him put it on.

For the sake of their temporary alliance, Qun Qing grasped the beads through the handkerchief and rolled them onto his wrist.

“Has the Chief Clerk cut his wrist before?” She suddenly noticed on that pale wrist a raised crescent-shaped scar.

“It looks like a knife wound, but actually it’s from a cat’s scratch.” Lu Huating smiled. “Miss Qing, look carefully—sometimes what the eyes see isn’t necessarily real.”

Unexpectedly, Qun Qing suddenly leaned close to look. Her delicate breath fell on his wrist, somewhat ticklish. Lu Huating’s breathing hitched. Qun Qing had already straightened, her upturned eyes bright: “Even if you behead me today, this was still cut by your own hand with a knife.”

Qun Qing had worked as an assassin. Looking at the wound’s shape and trajectory, she absolutely couldn’t be mistaken. But she also understood everyone had their secrets. She asked no more, only pushing the beads completely up and extracting her handkerchief.

“Why were you in Supervisor Pei’s main hall today?” Lu Huating asked.

“Heard rumors. Wanted to save Yu Nu.” Qun Qing said.

“Is that so? I had Juan Su ask your teaching lady. That’s not what she said.” Lu Huating lowered his sleeve, smiling warmly.

Qun Qing’s lashes trembled.

“Supervisor Pei privately withheld my registry record.” This matter didn’t affect the Prince of Yan’s mansion or harm Lu Huating’s interests—he wouldn’t care. Since they were cooperating, they needed to establish some trust. Qun Qing took out the registry record to show him: “The registry not being in the Six Bureaus affects my monthly stipend. I truly had no choice but to retrieve it myself.”

Lu Huating couldn’t help glancing at her.

Earlier she didn’t even have a handkerchief. Now she was risking stealing registry records over stipend money. Just how short of money was she? Could it be that Nan Chu mission expenses were entirely filled by spies themselves?

Qun Qing said: “I just don’t know how Supervisor Pei will retaliate after discovering this.”

“He won’t do anything.” Lu Huating leaned against the stone wall, saying casually, “Tomorrow he won’t be Supervisor anymore.”

Qun Qing felt some surprise in her heart. In the time it took her to steal a registry record, he’d stripped Supervisor Pei of his office?

“How will you contact me when the time comes?” Qun Qing asked again.

Lu Huating said: “When the time comes, you’ll know.”

Since matters were concluded, there was no reason to linger. Qun Qing tucked away her registry record: “Then I’m leaving. Chief Clerk, wait a while before coming out. I fear being seen.”

The gentleman lazily leaning in the cave’s shadows, his sleeves rustling in the wind, said nothing for a long while. Qun Qing couldn’t care about that much, turning to step into the spring light.

—

At the Bureau of Palace Attendants entrance, many palace servants gathered. Registrar Xu stood at the hall door lecturing them. Qun Qing squeezed through the door just as the lecture ended, placing the registry record on Registrar Xu’s desk.

“Lady Zhang found this servant’s registry record. As expected, it was misfiled. I’m delivering it to you.”

Registrar Xu was slightly startled. She glanced at Qun Qing, then took the registry record and placed it in a wooden box, breathing a sigh of relief: “It’s you! Finally brought it. Without the registry record all this time, I was worried you had some problem!”

Whether because Qun Qing had become a palace maid in charge, or because of Lan Yue, Registrar Xu’s attitude toward Qun Qing was much softer than last time. She even had leisure to chat a few sentences.

“See those palace maids outside? They’re all preparing to participate in this Six Bureaus internal selection.” Registrar Xu said. “That lady called Lan Yue in your palace—truly eloquent! She praises you as capable every day. Miss Qing, have you not considered testing for female official?”

Qun Qing had no need to enter the Six Bureaus in this life, but learning more information wasn’t bad. She smiled and said: “This servant originally planned to try, only I’m intimidated—after all, it’s the Princess Consort of Yan personally selecting people.”

The Prince of Yan successfully remained in Chang’an. Xiao Yunru’s vision of building the inner palace could proceed. She would select female officials for the Six Bureaus from among palace maids in charge. Palace maids from various palaces rushed to register—no one wanted to miss this opportunity to leap through the dragon gate.

“Where’s the difficulty! At the start of a new dynasty, people are needed everywhere—this is the easiest time.” Registrar Xu urged her. “Miss Qing, as a palace maid in charge, you have honor and favor, but ultimately you’re a servant dependent on noble masters. Palace officials have free status. With Miss Qing’s talent and wisdom, given an opportunity to display your abilities, who knows what great achievements you might make.”

Qun Qing thought, if this were the previous life, she might truly apply for selection. After all, Mother’s painstaking cultivation in her childhood wasn’t to make her a spy, but to have her take the female official’s path. But right now, confirming Mother’s safety was more important. Otherwise her heart could never be at peace.

“If Miss Qing applies for selection, our Bureau of Palace Attendants is a good destination—generous monthly stipend. If you came, we could keep each other company.” Registrar Xu had a long face with two crescent moon brows. When she smiled, she seemed somewhat affable. “It’s just normally busy, making people irritable. Last time I was unwilling to find your registry record for you—truly sorry.”

Taking her leave with thanks, Qun Qing thought this Registrar Xu seemed difficult to get along with, but today she appeared rather clever and smooth, actually willing to apologize.

However, her registry record was recovered. A great weight removed from her heart. Not thinking further, she left the Bureau of Palace Attendants.

The day went smoothly, but recent night duties were nerve-wracking.

Because of the Liuli state envoys, Li Xuan was in an extremely foul mood. This night, because the ink wasn’t properly dissolved, he threw the bead string in his hand at a minor eunuch’s head, knocking off his gauze cap.

Li Xuan ordered him to withdraw and drank in silence. With a screen as divider—on one side Zheng Zhiyi’s sweet slumber, on the other side silent as death, like dark clouds pressing overhead.

Qun Qing’s heart felt uneasy. Her task was helping Li Xuan affix seals, but he seemed intent on cultivating her participation in state affairs, giving her long periods to study memorials and questioning her on strategies. If his mood was bad, scolding was inevitable.

Qun Qing decided to share his concerns before he could scold: “I heard from Lan Yue that the Liuli state envoys are being difficult in every way, unwilling to bestow the Buddha bone. Is Your Highness troubled by this matter?”

“Those three envoys—one old, one young, both just bury their heads chanting sutras. Only that one called Atinie harbors ill intent, deliberately provocative. He repeatedly compares Great Chen to the already fallen Chu state, implying Great Chen is impoverished.” Li Xuan said.

Qun Qing only felt the name Atinie sounded familiar: “In matters of gods and Buddhas, His Majesty doesn’t match the previous dynasty’s Desolate Emperor in constructing temples and monasteries, but toward the common people he’s lenient and beneficial. The envoys speaking thus just want to extract more incense money from Great Chen. Your Highness need not take it to heart.”

“I know Father Emperor values welcoming the Buddha bone. The previous few times, I repeatedly endured.” Li Xuan gripped his wine cup tightly. “But today he actually said—rumors across the four seas claim His Majesty’s throne was improperly obtained, gained through slaughter, not orthodox succession. If this is true, Liuli state’s Buddha bone cannot be given to Great Chen. I couldn’t restrain myself and smashed the incense seal.”

Qun Qing felt a chill. The Li family indeed usurped the throne. Saying such things before the Crown Prince was no different from stroking a tiger’s whiskers. But right now the Buddha bone was in their hands: “Your Highness quarreled with the envoys—what to do now?”

“No matter. Grand Tutor Meng went to mediate.” Li Xuan smiled indifferently, though his eyes showed no pleasure but rather suppressed something. “The Grand Tutor is immensely learned, knowing everything from astronomy to geography. He also excels at pure conversation debates. I imagine he has methods. In any case, those envoys respect the Grand Tutor more than they respect me, this Crown Prince.”

“Grand Tutor—is that Premier Meng Guangshen?” Qun Qing listened attentively. “The Grand Tutor who painted ‘Night Banquet of Court Ladies’?”

Qun Qing knew Meng Guangshen was very learned—a strategist when Emperor Chenming rose up, Li Xuan’s teacher. She hadn’t expected he was also skilled in Buddhist philosophy and pure conversation. It seemed though the Crown Prince had grown up, this teacher still took everything upon himself. Though in the Crown Prince’s camp, he displeased the Crown Prince.

When Qun Qing mentioned that night banquet painting, Li Xuan’s gaze fell on her: “Where’s your silver-red silk? I remember that was fabric I bestowed.”

Qun Qing’s sophistry that day had actually made him grow accustomed to that garish color. So much so that today when she changed back to plain colors, he felt something was missing.

That silk had been cut to tatters by Lu Huating. How dare Qun Qing use it before the imperial presence: “Yesterday I carelessly tore it on something. Took it for mending.”

Fortunately Li Xuan didn’t pursue the matter. Perhaps having drunk too much, his voice was somewhat ethereal: “One bolt is indeed too little, can’t alternate. Someone—reward Miss Qing another bolt of silk. Select pomegranate red.”

This even more brilliant and presumptuous red than silver-red made Qun Qing’s heart skip: “Your Highness, the Consort also likes silk. This year’s autumn palace garments—the Consort hasn’t even applied for them. If Your Highness wishes to reward, bestow it to the Consort for tailoring. This servant can use leftover scraps.”

At these words, Li Xuan stared straight at her, as if suddenly sobered by her reminder of Zheng Zhiyi’s existence, also generating some displeasure. After a long while, he said to that minor eunuch: “Since she doesn’t want it, I won’t reward it. Go to the storehouse and fetch two bolts of golden sunset silk to reward the Consort.”

The minor eunuch received the decree and left. Li Xuan closed his eyes to rest, no longer speaking with Qun Qing. The room fell into oppressive silence.

Qun Qing observed Li Xuan’s expression, fearing he might suddenly fall ill again. She quickly stood and added a spoonful of Intoxicating Fragrance to the incense burner: “Does Your Highness still have headaches recently? This headache condition—when did it begin?”

Yearning Inducer wasn’t some common street poison. She’d always wanted to clarify where these two had been poisoned.

Fragrance drifted to his nostrils. Li Xuan opened his phoenix eyes. Seeing Qun Qing busily adding incense, his displeased expression gradually eased.

“In my childhood, I had a robust constitution. During the campaign to seize the realm, in the Battle of Feihu Pass, Youzhou Military Commissioner Li Min captured me and Mother Empress. To coerce Father Emperor, they beat and tortured us in every way. Since then I’ve had this lingering ailment.” Li Xuan’s voice carried deep resentment.

“Feihu Pass…” Qun Qing asked, “At that time, were the Prince of Yan and Chief Clerk Lu also captured together?”

Hearing this, Li Xuan first frowned, then spoke, his voice tight and hoarse: “Considering you grew up in the deep palace knowing nothing of past events, I won’t hold it against you: That day only I and Mother Empress suffered. Third Brother’s great army passed by Feihu Pass, but because enemies were many and we were few, he didn’t come in to rescue us. Instead he galloped north to bring reinforcements.”

“Actually I understand Third Brother too.” Li Xuan’s eyes held inscrutable expression as he continued speaking to himself. “Around Third Brother, people like Lu Huating, Juan Su, Kuang Su—all brothers who’d gone through life and death with him. If he’d come in to save us, all those people would have died. I, this legitimate elder brother, was never close with him since childhood. But what I cannot forgive is that Mother Empress was his legitimate mother, yet she died miserably at Feihu Pass because of this!”

That’s not right. You might be mistaken…

Qun Qing’s hand paused. Li Xuan apparently wasn’t clear his symptoms were caused by poisoning—he thought they resulted from torture during captivity at Feihu Pass. Lu Huating hadn’t suffered at Feihu Pass yet was similarly poisoned. Clearly their poison must have been administered elsewhere.

However, she didn’t intend to reveal what she knew. First, it would easily expose her identity. Second, the Crown Prince and Prince of Yan having their brotherhood fractured over the Battle of Feihu Pass was perfect. Only if the Crown Prince hated the Prince of Yan might there be possibility of eliminating him in the future…

“Why are you inquiring about the Prince of Yan and Lu Huating for no reason?” Li Xuan glanced at Qun Qing.

Qun Qing’s back turned cold: “This servant inquired about Chief Clerk Lu only because seeing his outstanding abilities, it’s a waste for him to follow the Prince of Yan. I was thinking… how good it would be if he could assist at Your Highness’s side.”

So she would consider things for him. Li Xuan’s lips curved: “Telling you doesn’t matter. I’ve known Lu Huating since long ago. His mother Wan Niang was my wet nurse.”

Qun Qing was stunned.

“Since he’s the wet nurse’s son, doesn’t that mean his age is even greater than Your Highness’s?” After all, a woman must first have a child before having milk. The ages didn’t seem to match.

“He had an elder brother ahead of him, same age as me. At age seven, he was bitten to death by wolves.” Li Xuan looked down reviewing memorials. “Lu Huating is the second son. When Wan Niang gave birth to him, she became Third Brother’s wet nurse.”

Qun Qing hadn’t expected that inquiring about Lu Huating would uncover such a tragic story.

She paused, voicing her doubt: “Since Chief Clerk Lu knew Your Highness in youth, why didn’t he seek to serve Your Highness then, but instead chose the Prince of Yan?”

According to Li Xuan, before the Battle of Feihu Pass he hadn’t yet been poisoned. Whether in civil or martial matters, he should have been more outstanding than Li Huan.

Li Xuan was silent for a while before saying: “This was my fault. In childhood, because I was the legitimate eldest son, my every move could not be flawed. I wasn’t familiar with Lu Huating.”

Qun Qing understood. Li Xuan was the legitimate eldest son, entrusted with great hopes by Emperor Chenming who was then still a military commissioner. Between master and servant, noble and base were distinct. He couldn’t play together with the wet nurse’s child.

Lu Huating could only seek out Li Huan. Because Li Huan in childhood was ugly and needed to cover his face—an unloved noble master—the two could play together.

“Lu Huating grew to age nine and inexplicably encountered danger, falling into a wolf den together with Wan Niang. Third Brother was different from me.” Li Xuan paused before saying flatly, “He was physically strong from childhood and remembered Wan Niang had nursed him. He grabbed a club and charged into the wolf den, rescuing both people. Even his mask was torn to shreds. His face was also injured.”