In the end, Bai Sensen still returned to the carriage and removed all the swelling from her face.

He left her with a face that resembled her former appearance in some ways, yet was not quite the same. Except for those who were extremely close to her, no one could confirm her identity at a glance.

Luowei held up the bronze mirror and sighed: “Xuechu’s disguise techniques were indeed learned from you.”

Bai Sensen said smugly: “She lacks skill — how could she compare to me?”

Then he asked in a low voice: “Where has Xuechu gone lately?”

Luowei shook her head and pondered: “I don’t know either. She’s probably traveling in the northwest.”

Bai Sensen said in puzzlement: “You two have such a close friendship — why isn’t she in Biandu? If she doesn’t come…”

He had originally intended to ask why she didn’t come to help, but at the last moment he changed his words to: “…come to keep you company.”

Luowei gave him an odd look and said slowly: “She has her own life, has the rivers and lakes, has the spring breeze, has poetry and wine. These are her choices, the things she wants to do. I also have my own things to do — my personal ambitions, my own path. One person is enough for that. Why should she give up her own affairs to keep me company?”

She shook her head and patted his shoulder: “The same goes for you. I sought you out only because I wanted your help with a small matter.”

There was no time to say more. Bai Sensen led her down from the carriage and into the courtyard. Luowei looked around to her left and right, then raised her head — not far ahead, under the covered walkway, stood a familiar figure.

She hadn’t seen so many old acquaintances in a long time, and for a moment all she could blurt out was a startled: “Elder Brother Jia…”

Zhou Chuyin gave her a nod and replied gravely: “Luowei. It’s been a long time.”

He continued to lead the way, speaking as he walked: “In the second year of Tianshou, you came to the Jiangnan region for the last time, and after that there was no word from you whatsoever. In the first year of Jinghe, Xuechu came to Biandu to see you once, and then she too vanished into the distance — she at least still wrote to me, but from you there was not a single letter.”

Luowei said quietly: “I… didn’t know what to say.”

Zhou Chuyin led her to a small cottage deep in the back garden and turned around — only then did he notice that her eyes had reddened. He let out a sigh and offered simple comfort: “Get a good rest. When he returns, we’ll discuss everything together.”

Luowei nodded. Before closing the door she called out to him once more.

“Thank you, Chuyin.”

Zhou Chuyin asked: “What are you thanking me for?”

Luowei replied: “Thank you all… for not forgetting him.”

After the door was shut, Bai Sensen asked from behind him: “Why has she never called me ‘Elder Brother’?”

Zhou Chuyin couldn’t be bothered to answer him. Bai Sensen therefore continued: “Yesterday he spoke to me hurriedly, only saying that Luowei had not committed any betrayal, but the rest he didn’t explain clearly. It appears she still doesn’t know his identity.”

Zhou Chuyin said sarcastically: “You changed your form of address quickly — no longer calling her ‘Empress’?”

“What about you?” Bai Sensen said angrily. “Previously calling her ‘Empress’ was all because of him… In my view, you never actually wanted to utter that word ‘Empress’ from the bottom of your heart. I find it curious — if you never believed Luowei would betray him, why didn’t you say so to him directly? Now that Luowei has come here, you ought to say something about identities.”

Zhou Chuyin pulled a bamboo fan from his sleeve and rapped him on the head: “I told you long ago — when it comes to matters between those two, the fewer questions asked and words spoken, the better. Affairs of love in this world are only truly understood by the people themselves. Foolish men and resentful women — who can dissuade them by so much as half a measure?”

He shook his head in exasperation: “You can cure ten thousand ailments, yet you yourself have a blockhead.”

Bai Sensen said dismissively: “Why go to such extremes? Haven’t you and I also remarked — this particular ailment admits of no cure.”

*

The small pavilion Ye Tingyan had found for her lay deep among the garden’s trees. Looking out from the window, one could only see a round moon-shaped flower lattice through the bare and scattered branches — whose dwelling that might be, she did not know.

Her body and spirit were both exhausted, and she slept for a very long time. When she awoke, the moon was high overhead. Freshly warmed food and dishes had been set out on the table, and through the night breeze came a gentle sound of qin music.

It was Zhou Chuyin playing the qin — she had heard this piece, “Brief Clarity,” before.

She could not say why, but in the midst of this peaceful and tranquil world, she felt it to be somehow unreal.

In the past several years, she had never once slept with such profound ease.

No nightmares, no scheming — and upon opening her eyes she felt safe.

Luowei ate a little, then passed through the long corridor and followed the source of the qin music.

Sure enough, Bai Sensen and Zhou Chuyin were waiting for her at the far end. And beside them, a young scholar in green robes — was none other than Pei Xi, a familiar face from the inner court.

Pei Xi saw her coming and, though he didn’t recognize her at first glance, couldn’t help but grow nervous. He stammered: “Em— Empress — Her Highness the Empress.”

Luowei had changed into plain everyday clothing and settled comfortably at one side: “Where is there an Empress here?”

Zhou Chuyin said: “Incorrect address — just say whatever comes naturally.”

Pei Xi swallowed and glanced at her again, then said: “Very well.”

His memory was excellent. He must have only heard the message relayed by others, yet he could recite it word for word without omission: “A change of circumstances occurred at Guyou Mountain. Last night, someone made an assassination attempt — slashed a cut in the main tent that let in the wind, then swaggered away without a single person seeing his face. His Majesty flew into a great rage and ordered the hunting ground and Guyou Mountain sealed off for a thorough investigation. The young master brought four Zhuque personal guards down the mountain to protect His Majesty and, before sunrise, intercepted a second assassination attempt on His Majesty’s behalf. He was injured…”

Bai Sensen slapped his thigh: “Injured again?”

Pei Xi said: “The injury is to his arm.”

Bai Sensen said furiously: “He —”

He had been about to say “He might as well be dead,” but seeing Luowei’s brow knit tightly, he swallowed the words.

Pei Xi continued: “The young master was injured and fell unconscious. His Majesty was deeply moved. But just as the sun was rising, a severely wounded Zhuque guard came to the hunting ground to deliver an urgent report, saying that last night, after the young master had descended the mountain, the Zhuque guards had been deliberately lured away for the space of one incense stick’s time — and in that brief interval, the Empress, who had been confined deep within the ancestral temple at Chongling, had inexplicably vanished without a trace.”

Everyone turned to look at Luowei. She spread her hands and asked with a smile: “What happened next?”

Pei Xi said: “His Majesty seemed to have developed a headache — he was immediately struck by pain so severe he couldn’t straighten up, and summoned two imperial physicians from Biandu overnight. The news has been temporarily suppressed. The Empress’s disappearance is simply too alarming — even if His Majesty wanted to claim she ‘died of illness’ to the outside world, he would first need to produce a body and hold a proper burial.”

Zhou Chuyin asked: “Was this within your calculations?”

Luowei nodded: “He naturally cannot release the news — it would be far too much like a lame excuse, and the censors and remonstrators would not let it rest. His only recourse now is to return to the capital first, send troops to surround Guyou Mountain, and claim to the outside world that I am gravely ill and cannot rise from my sickbed, convalescing on Guyou Mountain.”

Pei Xi said: “Your Highness has guessed exactly right. Moreover, even if His Majesty were unwilling to return to the capital to face the questioning of the censors and remonstrators, after the assassination attempt he would be so rattled and uneasy that he would not drag the hunting expedition all the way to the end of the ninth month before returning.”

“Once he returns to the capital, there will be a storm of unprecedented proportions in court,” Luowei said with a gentle smile. “Since the Empress is ‘gravely ill,’ how could he make a great show of searching for her? The stratagem of the cicada shedding its shell has succeeded completely.”

Only then did Bai Sensen understand: “So the false impression you created — that there had been a change of affairs in Biandu — was solely to engineer this ‘disappearance’ and throw him into a state of frantic, helpless confusion?”

Luowei didn’t mind explaining a little more to them: “Lingcheng — do you know why Song Lan cannot hold this realm securely?”

Before he could answer, Zhou Chuyin said: “When a ruler is capricious and unpredictable, his ministers live in constant fear of being raised to glory or dashed to ruin.”

He thought it over, then said admiringly: “You are already the most brilliant strategist.”

Luowei asked: “And you? What plans do you have?”

Zhou Chuyin said: “It’s a long story — or perhaps… wait for him to return, and then the two of you can burn the midnight candles together and discuss everything.”

Luowei suddenly paused.

After a moment of silence, she asked: “You trust him so completely?”

Pei Xi darted a glance at her; Zhou Chuyin said nothing; even the usually talkative Bai Sensen fell silent. In the end it was Zhou Chuyin who spoke: “He is a man worthy of trust. All the words, go and ask him yourself.”

Seeing everyone like this, Luowei pressed no further. After they went their separate ways, she walked toward the small pavilion. Passing by the room with the closed door and the round moon lattice window, she asked one more question: “Who lives here?”

Pei Xi, who was heading the same way as her, replied: “This is the young master’s study. He usually sleeps in the study as well.”

He considered and said: “Would Your Highness like to go in and take a look?”

Although Ye Tingyan ordinarily never permitted anyone to enter his study without permission, Pei Xi, acting on his own private wishes, still hoped that Luowei would go in and have a look.

However, Luowei clearly didn’t trust him the way she trusted Bai Sensen and Zhou Chuyin — she assumed this was a test on his part. After a moment’s hesitation she shook her head: “There’s no need.”

The following morning she rose early, spread out ink, and wrote several letters — one to Yan Lang, one to her elder brother Su Shiyu. Zhou Chuyin dispatched people to send the letters out, then instructed Pei Xi to stand guard in person at Fengle Tower — Zhang Suwu would leave the palace once at noon several days hence to pass along news. This was the instruction Luowei had given before her departure.

Song Lan had not yet returned to the capital; Biandu was still entirely calm. Bai Sensen suggested Luowei go out for a walk, but Luowei was extremely cautious. She kept feeling that Song Lan, besides searching inch by inch on Guyou Mountain, had very likely already sent people back to Biandu to conduct a private search.

Three days later, the imperial procession finally returned to the capital.

Just at dusk, someone came knocking at the door of her small pavilion.

“He’s back.”

The wound on Ye Tingyan’s arm appeared not to be too serious. The fainting at the time had been only because there was poison in the wound — not a fatal poison; perhaps this had been his self-inflicted suffering all along. Bai Sensen had examined him many times, and after confirming all was well, still proceeded to scold him at length.

When Luowei walked to the door, she could still hear his rambling complaints.

She touched the intricately carved patterns on the door frame and suddenly felt some hesitation.

After the unmasking had come a chaotic night, and after that chaotic night had come news passed back and forth across a great distance. Seeing him again, she felt a strange awkwardness in her heart.

Bai Sensen pushed open the door and, seeing her standing there, hurriedly beckoned to the people nearby and together they all made themselves scarce.

This was not his study, merely a warm room near the entrance — it seemed that because he was sensitive to cold, the room had already been fitted with a fire-warming floor, even though it was only autumn.

Luowei stood at the doorway for a long time and heard Ye Tingyan’s clear, mellow voice.

“The wind is cool by the door — come in.”

What was there to fear, this sensation of a stranger’s anxiety at coming near home? Even if it was awkward, it should not be her alone who felt that way.

Luowei shut the door and walked toward his couch.

Ye Tingyan’s right arm was wrapped in gauze, without a trace of color. The gauze was wound from his elbow to his wrist — the wound must have been a very long cut.

She lowered her eyes. The moment she looked toward him, he swiftly averted his gaze.

Yet from the moment she had entered the room, he had clearly been watching her the whole time. Why, when she looked back at him, would he feel the impulse to retreat?