Luowei’s fingers involuntarily tightened. She opened her mouth, then closed it tightly again.

Ye Tingyan held her patiently, waiting for her answer, and said nothing more.

“I do not know.”

After a long silence, Luowei suddenly spoke.

Ye Tingyan was startled: “What?”

“I am answering that question of yours — ‘does Your Highness know?’ — no wonder His Majesty would send Lord Ye to handle interrogations. If I were not careful, I would nearly have let you lead me astray.” Luowei said this with perfect composure. “You ask me why I saved her — but I simply do not know who she is.”

She curved the corner of her lips and reached behind him to toy with his hair, which he rarely wore down: “Qiu Xueyu and I did have some acquaintance in our younger years. She was an unrestrained sort of person, well-matched with my temperament — but what does that amount to? As the years passed and we saw each other less, the bond faded. Her entire family became implicated in a crime; by rights not one of them should have been spared. How was I to know she would turn up in the inner court?”

Past the hour of the Rat, the night was at its darkest — this ought to have been a person’s most vulnerable moment.

Listening to these words, Ye Tingyan suddenly felt that the shell of ice encasing Luowei was very, very thick.

She was right here in his arms — warm and soft — they had pressed lips together and clasped hands before. Yet she had not dropped her guard against him for a single moment.

He thought of the young girl laughing with guileless innocence beneath the begonia tree, and for a moment felt a flicker of confusion.

Had these years driven her to become this way, or had he simply never known her?

Luowei continued: “Later, when I was selecting attendants for the palace, I noticed her at a glance — I thought she resembled Qiu Xueyu in two or three ways, and felt a pang of sentiment, so I took her as my close attendant. Then, because she was thorough in her work and discreet, I came to trust her more and more. In the register she was listed as a native of Yuezhou, surnamed Feng, named Yan Luo — clear and straightforward, having passed the selection process through two provinces and thirteen prefectures. How could I have suspected anything? If a convicted criminal’s daughter entered the palace through some lapse, that is the fault of the officials in the two provinces who oversaw the selection process. Why should Lord Ye come to question me?”

She touched her wound with her hand: “Thinking on it now, she must have harbored a deep hatred for me. In those years she came to beg me, and I was unwilling to become involved — I did not save her family. I had thought her long dead. Little did I know she had survived, lying low in patient concealment at my side. Had I not known some martial arts and been careful about what I ate and drank, she would likely have acted long ago. That day when you sent your letter — I was distracted for a moment, which gave her the opportunity.”

Luowei had spoken so much in one breath that a slight dizziness came over her — she had gone over these words in her mind many times, and feared that if she spoke too slowly, she would not be able to finish.

When she finished, she suddenly realized she had made a mistake.

— These were the words she had prepared for Song Lan. Song Lan only knew that Yan Luo was her close palace attendant; he did not know how intimate the two had truly been. But faced with Ye Tingyan, this was plainly a clumsy lie!

Ye Tingyan tightened his arm around her waist and asked in a neutral tone: “Is that so?”

Luowei immediately broke into a cold sweat.

In all those private meetings they had shared, it was always Yan Luo who had accompanied her!

If Yan Luo truly harbored the hatred Luowei had just described — hating her to the point of risking her life to attempt assassination — then why had she not simply told Song Lan about the private dealings between the two of them?

That would clearly cause Luowei far greater harm than a single stabbing hairpin.

Ye Tingyan released her, carefully settled her back against the clustered embroidered pillows, and seeing her expression rigid, could not help but let out a soft laugh: “Your Highness, why have you stopped speaking? What is it you are afraid of?”

He sat on her bed, leaning to one side, deliberately edging her inward and claiming half her pillow for himself.

The two of them were so close their noses nearly touched. Luowei’s hands groped in the darkness for the hairpin that had fallen somewhere among the embroidered quilt.

But before she could find it, Ye Tingyan suddenly said without warning: “When the case involving Qiu Xueyu’s entire family came about, it was brought to pass by His Majesty, the Grand Preceptor, and the scholars of the realm together. You had merely some acquaintance with her and failed to help her — if Qiu Xueyu bore you any resentment, it would not extend to surpassing His Majesty. Betraying us to him and bringing about our deaths would gain her nothing — you ought to have said that to me. Wouldn’t that have been a far better justification?”

This man!

The moment she had blurted it out she had begun to regret it. She had held out some small hope that perhaps he would overlook it in a moment of inattention — but he was like a worm in her belly, even spotting the crack in her defenses before she herself had.

Ye Tingyan continued to stroke her face with warm fingers, letting out a soft sigh: “People are so vulnerable after the hour of the Rat — how is it you will not believe it?”

Luowei had lost that gambit, but fortunately not the entire game. She thought quickly, and simply reached up to clasp Ye Tingyan’s neck, immediately changing her account: “Those words were meant to deceive others. Since you want the truth, the truth is that A’Fei and I were indeed close friends. In those years I knew she had been wrongly implicated, but there was no other way — so I kept her alive. Yu Qiushi discovered her identity; that is my fault. And to avoid implicating me, she struck with that hairpin herself.”

She leaned close to his ear, her lips grazing his cheek — a careless, offered kiss: “Keep her alive for three days on my behalf — can you do that?”

Ye Tingyan pressed his cheek to hers tenderly: “If you asked me whether I could keep her alive entirely, I would not dare promise. But three days — very well.”

Luowei tightened her grip on his hand: “In those three days, I want her to suffer as little as harsh punishment as possible at Zhuque. Surface wounds to her skin and flesh are acceptable — but she must not suffer any torment that damages her fundamentally.”

“Very well,” Ye Tingyan answered just as compliantly. He mimicked her gesture of toying with her hair as it fell behind her, then suddenly asked: “What if I told you…”

He cleared his throat: “What if I told you that today, if you were to sacrifice her, I have a way to bring Yu Qiushi down immediately — would you be willing?”

Luowei’s heart gave a great thud, yet she instinctively answered without hesitation: “No.”

Ye Tingyan had not expected her to answer so quickly. He was taken aback: “Your Highness does not wish to consider it?”

Luowei was about to shake her head, but then felt her response had perhaps been a touch too obvious. She hesitated for a moment — only to hear Ye Tingyan continue: “One maidservant, one old friend — in exchange for eliminating a great threat to you, sparing yourself troubles that might drag on for years. The transaction is exceedingly favorable — did you not do very well with that incident in the Western Garden?”

Luowei thought of Zhang Buyun, and felt as though she had been stabbed again — not a wound that bled visibly, only the howl of wind inside her chest.

“She knows so many of your secrets. If I were to kill her for you outright — removing your hidden worry while also toppling Yu Qiushi — that would be killing two birds with one stone,” Ye Tingyan said, his fingers tracing circles on her back, sending a tingling sensation spreading from the paths he drew. He spoke slowly, as though genuinely puzzled. “Are you not tempted, Your Highness?”

Luowei wanted to refute him. Her thoughts turned, and she laughed inwardly at herself for considering an explanation — to a man like him, what was there that could not be sacrificed in pursuit of his ends?

So she simply answered: “I keep her because she is still of use to me.”

Ye Tingyan asked again: “Why three days?”

Luowei said: “In three days my injury will allow me to move about. I can go and see her then.”

She finished speaking and waited a long while with no response. Just as she was about to speak again, Ye Tingyan straightened up and pressed a damp kiss to her cheek.

A single kiss and done — as though carrying a tender sentiment and an unspeakable sorrow.

He rose from the bed and smoothed the wrinkles from his lapels, then murmured idly: “‘When I set out, the willows swayed; now that I return, snow and ice hold sway’ [1]… Your Highness does have feeling after all.”

Luowei concealed the inexplicable tremor that kiss had stirred in her and said coldly: “Feeling is useless. I have already said — she is of use to me.”

Ye Tingyan let out a soft laugh.

For some reason, tonight Luowei kept sensing a peculiar softness in him: “What are you laughing at?”

Ye Tingyan answered with something entirely unrelated: “I am in a hurry to go back and question someone. If I leave too late, I may be discovered. I cannot observe your bedchamber by candlelight — what a pity.”

He held the gauze curtain half-lifted and looked back: “Do you think I look well in the Lin Guard’s robes?”

The hall was so dark she could barely make out anything save that brilliant crimson — yet Luowei looked straight at him without blinking and spoke her falsehood: “Lord Ye is a distinguished gentleman of a turbid age.”

Ye Tingyan didn’t care whether what she said was true or false, and continued with amused interest: “Better than the pink garments, or worse?”

Luowei said patiently: “Are you not going to leave?”

Ye Tingyan said: “Then I will come to see you again another day.”

Having said this, he lowered the curtain but did not leave — as though waiting for her answer. Luowei leaned against the soft pillow and said quietly: “Very well.”

Ye Tingyan turned and walked out: “Next time, have that little palace maid surnamed Li keep the night watch again.”

Luowei was startled: “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing much — only a bit of sedating incense. She may even sleep more soundly for it.”

The gauze curtain swayed, and he was gone. The moonlight was bright, casting the shadow of the latticed window across the hall. All around was hushed and still, as though nothing had occurred.

*

Zhuque Bureau had two wings, inner and outer. The outer was set on the imperial boulevard outside the palace walls — it had formerly housed the Jintian Guards and been the site of the old Palace Security Office. The inner wing was located a hundred paces east of Qianfang Hall, not particularly close to Qionghua Hall. Fortunately Ye Tingyan was intimately familiar with the palace grounds, and was able to deftly slip past the guards of the main halls without losing any time.

He changed back into his deep blue official robes in Yuanming’s chamber, then sauntered back at his leisure. The Zhuque guards all knew him as a close aide to the Emperor and were most respectful. Seeing him return, they came forward to greet him: “Lord Ye, have you rested well?”

Ye Tingyan made a show of rubbing his eyes and yawned: “Very well.”

He accepted the offered candlestick and walked by candlelight into the depths of Zhuque Bureau: “And the prisoner?”

One man answered: “Per your lordship’s instructions, she has been confined alone in the deepest cell of Zhuque for half a day — no food, no water, no torture. She has been waiting for your lordship to question her.”

Ye Tingyan nodded: “You may all go.”

All present understood that this female prisoner had attempted to assassinate the Empress, and that the Emperor had specially dispatched a close aide to conduct the interrogation — clearly there were matters he did not wish others to overhear. They took the hint and withdrew one by one, clearing even the guards from around the interrogation chamber.

Yuanming was kept behind by Ye Tingyan. He accepted the candle and said quietly: “This servant, per Your Highness’s instructions, left a single candle in her cell.”

Ye Tingyan pushed open the door and saw Yan Luo bound to a punishment frame directly facing the entrance. She appeared utterly exhausted, her head hanging limply, her body still bearing the various wounds left by her resistance to capture that morning.

Fortunately Zhuque had not yet subjected her to torture, and the cell had been left with light. Whatever the ordeal of imprisonment, at least it had not been enough to drive a person to madness.

Ye Tingyan signaled Yuanming to close the door, then stepped a few paces closer. Yan Luo seemed not to notice. Her head hung of its own accord, though her lips trembled faintly. He leaned in to listen and found that she was murmuring a lyric in broken fragments.

“Contemplate — how much can one endure, worry and rain, half impeding the way — why speak of long and short, trading blows till death?”

He had listened to this line and was about to speak when he heard Yan Luo pause, her very breath carrying a note of longing: “Fortunate to face the clear breeze and bright moon, the mossy ground spread wide, the canopy of clouds arching high. How fine is Jiangnan — a thousand cups of fragrant wine, one song… Mantingfang.” [2]