Li Huan was exhausted from the arduous journey. After the physician bandaged his wound, he fell into deep sleep.

Xiao Yunru gazed at his silhouette through the curtain, her expression grave: “The physician just said the blade struck precisely where it severed a blood vessel. He lost too much blood and must rest in the coming days. Could that person have been deliberately assassinating him?”

Lu Huating gazed ahead. After a long while, he said expressionlessly: “No.”

Juan Su said: “Chi Su’s falcon attacked that woman first. She fled downstairs, and His Highness happened to be blocking below. She probably took His Highness for a shadow guard like us, so she struck freely.”

Lu Huating had previously sought out some folk martial experts, and accidents had happened before. Xiao Yunru nodded: “Apart from us, no one knows His Highness’s true appearance. He disguised himself and returned to court early—ordinary people wouldn’t think of it. This time was just bad luck. Next time, don’t take such risky approaches.”

Everyone agreed. She had people withdraw to rest while she herself watched over Prince Yan.

As he left, Lu Huating’s fingers in his sleeve clenched white.

In the tent, Li Huan awoke and opened his eyes to see Xiao Yunru by the bed. He reached back to touch his bare upper body exposed from changing medicine, hastily grabbed his clothes to cover himself, and said with displeasure: “It’s late. Why hasn’t the Princess Consort left yet?”

Xiao Yunru’s expression remained unchanged, acting as if she had seen nothing: “If Your Highness feels no discomfort, this consort will leave.”

She set down her book and was about to leave when she heard Li Huan say: “I remembered who injured me.”

“That woman holding the raccoon cat.” He hesitated, then recalled Qun Qing’s name. “That Miss Qing whom the Emperor personally honored. I don’t know why she had Yunming’s dagger.”

“The shadow guards said it was chaotic at the time—she could have seized a blade and wounded someone. Your Highness is away, and the Chief Clerk works hard. You shouldn’t blame him for this matter.”

Xiao Yunru’s mind conjured up Qun Qing’s refined and scholarly face. Her expression turned solemn—she found it absurd. When that dagger was pulled out it was covered in blood. The Qun Qing in her memory—where would she get such courage?

“How could I possibly suspect Yunming?” Li Huan sighed. “I just feel he’s changed a great deal… Forget it, I’m tired too. Princess Consort, go back and rest.”

The water clock dripped through the night. Lu Huating sat in the darkness, removing his outer robe.

With the slightest movement, dull pain spread from his wrist. His hand paused, his expression becoming extremely dangerous.

What Xiao Yunru had just said was exactly what he had been thinking: Since childhood, Li Huan had covered his face with a bronze demon mask. His true appearance had never been shown to others. Forget spies—even the Emperor and Crown Prince might not react immediately upon first seeing his face.

This was also why Li Huan dared to wear a conical hat and swagger openly into Siye Tower.

When Qun Qing saw Li Huan, her reaction had been too great and too fast.

That blade strike was even more clean and decisive, wrapped in hatred, making Lu Huating almost certain she actually recognized Li Huan’s face.

Prince Yan’s Manor had been secretly seeking medicine all these years. Originally Lu Huating planned to wait until the birthmark on Li Huan’s face faded before having him remove the mask. In his previous life, he had indeed done so.

Not until the fourth year of Shenglin, on the eve of Prince Yan’s ascension to the throne, did he show his true face.

Various strange things suddenly connected into a line.

Qun Qing was clearly just like him—she had returned from the fourth year of Shenglin.

Evading everywhere, pretending not to know, one slip in a hundred precautions.

In that instant, the pain and hatred from before death in his previous life surged over him again like waves, wrapped in anger at being fooled.

He wasn’t unused to torture—he had once grown accustomed to it. But the pain this woman brought him was the deepest and most shocking.

Lu Huating endured the pain in his wrist and finally removed his outer robe, looking at it coldly.

The outer robe draped across his knee, covered with Qun Qing’s blood and his own, mixed together. That spot on the sleeve should be hers.

For the first time he broke his habit of cleanliness, using his jade-white fingers to stroke that dried bloodstain, trying to feel her pain in that moment.

After all, her pain should bring him pleasure.

The image of Qun Qing tumbling down the stairs flashed through his mind, yet he felt an indescribable sensation. His fingers paused.

The feeling was still pain. His heart was like a handful of fluffy snow, wrinkling and collapsing inward in that instant.

Outside lightning illuminated Lu Huating’s pale face, his hesitant eyes. These eyes gazed toward the long night outside the window.

Because of excessive rationality, Lu Huating was rarely controlled by feelings.

He had almost crossed to the end—who made him sink into this long night?

He lit a candle, and the candle ignited a brazier. The firelight made the expression in his eyes gather again, bright and magnificent.

She was a formidable enemy. Like all opponents, he must defeat her.

When Qun Qing fell into his hands and he tortured her properly, he would have peaceful days.

In the middle of the night, Juan Su and the others faintly heard the sound of wooden fish being struck, at long intervals, crisp and ethereal, with indistinct sutra chanting. They looked from the window into the distance. The window paper of Lu Huating’s bedchamber transmitted an intense firelight.

Zhu Su glanced at the moon and said quietly: “Is today the memorial day for the Chief Clerk’s mother and sister?”

Juan Su climbed up drowsily and flipped through the calendar: “It really is. We were so focused on His Highness’s injury that we forgot.”

None of them could sleep anymore, listening to the clear sound striking again and again, hidden in the thick fog.

—

In the early morning, Qun Qing received a summons from Princess Consort Yan to go to Chongjing Hall for the palace examination.

The four tests had passed. She should already be selected. This final palace examination was just going through the motions—Princess Consort Yan would instruct her on her duties.

Her arm wound had hurt all night. When Qun Qing got up, she felt somewhat dizzy and lightheaded, but using just one hand, she slowly arranged her hair into a bun.

Facing the mirror, Qun Qing lowered her long lashes and, enduring the pain, tore open yesterday’s hastily bandaged wound a bit. Seeing blood flow out, she lowered her sleeve.

To plan leaving the palace, she had to hurry. Once appointed as a palace official, she would no longer be slave status and couldn’t take advantage of the opportunity when palace servants were released.

That she was alone was within Qun Qing’s expectations.

When giving thanks, Xiao Yunru sat before the screen, frequently glancing toward her as if sizing her up.

Qun Qing wasn’t surprised. She had stabbed Li Huan, and what she did at Siye Tower had mostly become known to Xiao Yunru.

Xiao Yunru must be wondering what kind of person she really was.

Sure enough, Xiao Yunru’s eyes slowly widened, staring at the bloodstains seeping through Qun Qing’s sleeve: “You’re injured, miss? Cui Yu, summon the physician!”

“No need.” Qun Qing quickly said, then hesitated. “This servant dare not deceive Your Highness. This servant’s wound was from being pecked by Prince Yan Manor’s gray falcon. If it’s registered in the medical records, this servant fears bearing responsibility for leaving the palace without permission.”

Xiao Yunru was startled—so it really was her. Then it was also her who stabbed Prince Yan.

Qun Qing clearly knew Lu Huating, yet last time she pretended flawlessly. The depth of her scheming and speed of her reactions made Xiao Yunru have to be on guard.

She hadn’t expected that today Qun Qing would face her and reveal everything, speaking the truth.

Qun Qing bowed: “The implicated Yu Nu at Siye Tower was this servant’s benefactor. She told this servant the only clue, so the Chief Clerk asked this servant to join forces and go together to Siye Tower. Before we obtained the ledger, I didn’t tell the Princess Consort. Please forgive me, Your Highness.”

Xiao Yunru observed Qun Qing with an inquiring gaze. The double creases at the corners of her eyes lifted, her pupils were clear, and between her brows was the color of refined landscape—she didn’t look at all like someone who would lie.

But if she truly joined forces under the Judicial Bureau’s entrustment, what palace servant would dare stab someone and snatch away the ledger?

Seeing Xiao Yunru’s silence, Qun Qing understood. Once seeds of suspicion and wariness were planted, they were hard to remove. This was precisely what she wanted.

If Xiao Yunru had appreciated her before and wanted to use her, she probably wouldn’t dare use her afterward.

“The Chief Clerk has already told this Princess about the matter. This is a good thing—you needn’t worry. Rise.” Xiao Yunru paused, then said gently, “That gray falcon was used by others and frightened you. Take this precious stone violet powder and sprinkle it on your wound. It can stop bleeding and prevent infection.”

Cui Yu presented the precious stone violet powder on a wooden tray. Qun Qing glanced at the gold-foil screen. Seeing she didn’t take it, Xiao Yunru said earnestly: “If Miss Qing doesn’t want to use it, remember the medicine’s name and request it from the palace physicians.”

Cui Yu was slightly startled because when Qun Qing took the powder, she simultaneously quietly placed a note on the wooden tray. Xiao Yunru saw it and signaled Cui Yu to bring the note, secretly hiding it in her sleeve.

After passing the message to Xiao Yunru, Qun Qing took out the ledger from her sleeve. Under Xiao Yunru’s astonished gaze, she said: “This servant thought all night. This is Siye Tower’s true ledger. This servant won’t hand it to the Censorate but will return it to Chief Clerk Lu, solely for the displaced people and common folk in the city, hoping Siye Tower will collapse soon. I hope Your Highness and the Chief Clerk won’t fail this trust.”

With that, she bowed lightly, the white gardenia on her thick black bun swaying gently.

Behind the golden screen, Lu Huating stared intently at that bowing figure.

Then Qun Qing rose and left directly without another word.

Lu Huating’s breathing hitched slightly.

He sat for a moment, then actually walked out from behind the screen.

Qun Qing actually heard again the crisp sound of the pendants on his belt, following neither far nor close behind her.

She paused deliberately, passing through the corridor, crossing the garden, walking into that stone cave. Just as she entered, she felt Lu Huating bend down and follow her in: “What do you want to say to me?”

Her tone was calm. She turned around, her expression composed, showing not a trace of hatred. But Lu Huating’s gaze became tense, his eyes sweeping over the fresh blood on her sleeve: “Doesn’t my lady want to hear an explanation?”

“What relationship do we have? Inferior skills, willing acceptance of defeat. What need for explanation?” Qun Qing countered.

Her gaze was clear, looking at him as if it were natural. There was even a trace of a smile at the corner of her lips. But that completely indifferent gaze was like a ladle of cold water, making Lu Huating gaze at her with slightly condensed expression and smile: “My lady is right.”

Qun Qing suppressed the faint emotions in her chest, only taking out the bundle hidden in the stone crevice. She excelled at defeating opponents through disguise—there was absolutely no possibility of showing any defeated expression.

Lu Huating saw her take the bundle and prepare to leave, with no intention of speaking. His eyelashes trembled slightly: “What is the meaning of this?”

“Didn’t the Chief Clerk give me the clothes from the first time?” Qun Qing said casually. “I’m taking them. After this, there’s no need to come again. I came today just to get this bundle. Why did the Chief Clerk follow in—did you also leave something here?”

Lu Huating stepped forward, gazing into her eyes. He didn’t know what emotion he wanted to capture, but Qun Qing’s gaze was like water, containing no emotion at all, like a sword made of ice pressing against his throat.

Spies were quite skilled at disguise—as if everything before had been false.

His shadow and the fragrance of yellow sweet grass enveloped her. Being stared at by such a bright yet intensely oppressive gaze almost created a dizzying sensation. Lu Huating smiled: “This time I miscalculated. Nan Chu’s spies will all die sooner or later.”

“Then what do you think of the gift I gave the Chief Clerk?” Qun Qing said. “This time it was Prince Yan’s shoulder. Next time I can’t guarantee whether it will be a hand, foot, or head.”

Lu Huating’s fingers tightened, feeling some numbness. Then he heard her say quietly: “You’re wearing yellow sweet grass again. Chief Clerk, don’t forget—only I know the antidote to this poison.”

Qun Qing didn’t want him to know she was leaving the palace. She continued pretending to serve Nan Chu, but she also didn’t dare threaten too harshly, lest Lu Huating seize Lin Yujia and capture her in turn. So she reminded him of her value.

Lu Huating’s shoulder showed the shadow of bandages. Qun Qing raised her hand, avoided the injury, and forcefully pushed him away to leave. But just as she came out, she ran into Li Xuan and Shou Xi outside.