Ye Tingyan had been walking along the red walls for some time, and just as he reached the area outside Qionghua Hall, he caught a palace maid’s hushed voice: “Be careful in your service these days, and keep your footsteps light as well. The inner palace is in mourning with white hangings everywhere. They say even Liu Weng, who served at the Emperor’s side, has been…”

Another voice quickly interjected, “Sister, keep your voice down — I know.”

The first maid sighed, “If only Her Highness were still here — only when she spoke would His Majesty listen to a word of it.”

The other replied with a sigh, “I’m afraid even Her Highness would be of no use now.”

“Speaking of which — is Her Highness really in the Chongling Ancestral Temple? Just a few days ago, when I ran into some of the outer-court eunuchs, they were muttering away, saying Her Highness had been gone for a long time already… that it’s just a pretense now. It gave me such a fright to hear it, yet I couldn’t say it was entirely unreasonable — the imperial physicians haven’t sent medicine over in quite a while.”

“Shame on you! They dare to say such things, and you dare to believe them? Stop thinking along those lines — just worry about staying alive.”

Ye Tingyan said nothing and quickened his pace.

The day before last, Song Lan had suspended morning court. Before the sun had even reached midday, word came from the inner palace that the Imperial Prince had died in infancy due to frailty, while the Noble Consort, physically weakened from the birth, had succumbed to a hemorrhage and died from the grief of losing her child.

Song Lan, unable to bear the pain of losing both child and beloved, had taken ill, alarming nearly half the Imperial Medical Bureau.

These two cover stories were Chang Zhao’s handiwork. Since his denouncement of Su Shiyu’s illicit relationship with Yu Suiyun, Song Lan’s trust in him had likely piled up to another level entirely.

However, Song Lan, suspicious and sickly as he now was, would naturally not place his trust in any one person alone — and so today, Song Lan summoned Ye Tingyan urgently into the palace as well.

Contrary to Ye Tingyan’s expectations, Song Lan was genuinely quite ill this time. Since he had taken personal rule, Song Lan would not lightly suspend court or shirk his duties unless he truly could not rise from his bed.

When Ye Tingyan entered the hall, Chang Zhao was keeping guard outside. Seeing him arrive, Chang Zhao gave him only a brief, measured look, and said nothing more.

Song Lan was reclining against his couch, offering a few perfunctory replies to Ye Tingyan’s words of concern, and then made known the reason he had called him into the palace.

Ever since Song Lan had promoted Chang Zhao, he had placed him in Ye Tingyan’s former position — overseeing the Zhuque Bureau that Song Lan had built with his own hands. But to prevent Chang Zhao from harboring improper intentions, Song Lan had also deliberately given Ye Tingyan the opportunity to befriend the Yan brothers and take command of a unit of the Imperial Guards within the palace.

Since the two were set against each other as counterweights, the tasks assigned to each were naturally different. For instance, the interrogation of Su Shiyu this time had been entirely outside Ye Tingyan’s involvement.

“Su Shiyu’s act of framing and entrapping Ping Nian must have been done at the Empress’s instigation. Just now, Ping Nian came to me with a suggestion — to use this person to lure the Empress out.” Song Lan took his hand and said slowly, “I have approved it. In three days, Su Shiyu will be escorted to the Eastern Gate and beheaded in public. On that day, you and Yan Ping will each lead a unit of the Imperial Guards to guard the Southern City Gate and the临江 ferry crossing.”

“In these coming days, I will have the city guards and the Jintian Guard ease their patrols… On that day, if the Empress dares to show herself, she must not be allowed to escape.”

He did not mention where Chang Zhao and the Zhuque Bureau would be stationed — he was still keeping his guard up.

Ye Tingyan accepted the order, took his leave, and exited the hall. He stood for a moment with Chang Zhao beneath the covered walkway.

“Three months,” Chang Zhao said, tilting his head back. “Three months still remain — it is truly too long. When Her Highness dispatched her elder brother to deceive me and sought to take my life, did she give any thought to the terms of our wager?”

Ye Tingyan glanced at him. Before he could speak, Chang Zhao smiled and said, “No matter. You have shown no regard for propriety — but I, for my part, intend to honor this wager. However, let me make it plain from the start: you had best not fall into my hands.”

After a moment of silence, Ye Tingyan said abruptly, “I heard that His Majesty had Liu Weng beaten to death.”

Chang Zhao thought for a moment before he remembered who “Liu Weng” was, and answered with a smile, “Indeed — he was a man left behind by the Empress and the late Crown Prince. Why would His Majesty ever feel at ease with him?”

Ye Tingyan followed his lead. “Then you had best be careful as well — who is to say the next one won’t be you or me?”

Chang Zhao reached out and brushed nonexistent dust from Ye Tingyan’s shoulder, leaning in a little closer, and lowered his voice. “Quite right — and that is why I urge you to make your move soon as well… How many people did the Empress and the late Crown Prince leave behind in the court? Before, he held back out of wariness and did not dare to act recklessly. But after today — will he still have so many scruples? Every day you delay making your move, another innocent soul will be added to this palace’s count of the dead.”

Ye Tingyan turned over the expression on Chang Zhao’s face as he said those words, and found something vaguely unsettling about it. He passed through the broad open forecourt before Mingguang Gate and was just about to leave the palace when he saw Yan Ping leading a company of Imperial Guards to intercept him.

He had worked alongside this man many times and knew him fairly well. He was just raising his hand in a salute when Yan Ping cut him off. “Lord Ye, no need for ceremony. It happens that you have not yet left the palace — saves me the trouble of going to your residence to find you.”

He gave a light cough. “Just now I went to see His Majesty, and I don’t know what came to mind, but he suddenly moved up the sentence for that person in the Zhuque Bureau to today. No need to observe the usual time restrictions either — proceed at once to the Eastern Market for immediate execution, before evening. His Majesty instructed me to find Lord Ye to assist, as Lord Ye will know which person we are to watch for.”

Ye Tingyan’s brow contracted slightly, yet his heart was racing at a furious pace.

Song Lan had reversed his own order so abruptly after giving them their instructions — was he afraid that a long delay would invite trouble, or was he… already suspicious of both of them, worried that now that they knew, they would go back and arrange everything overnight?

There was no other recourse at the moment. Ye Tingyan glanced behind him and said, without a change of expression, “Thank you for bringing word, Brother Yan. Allow me to change my attire before accompanying you.”

*

Late afternoon.

Luowei gripped the heavy iron blade at her waist and walked out from the dark corridor of the Ministry of Justice prison with Yuanming. She heard the iron gate slowly closing behind her, and at last let out a breath.

She looked up at the sky. It was a spring day, and the sun had already tilted toward the west. The incessant rain that had fallen for nearly a month had finally relented — today the sky was a clear, water-blue, bright and fair. In another hour or two, the sun would set.

Three horses galloped at full speed from the Imperial Avenue straight to the Bianhe River.

Luowei cast a glance to her side. Qiu Xueyu had been locked in the prison for three months and was thoroughly worn out — the hand gripping her reins was trembling slightly.

Fortunately, the Ministry of Justice had not dared to subject her to corporal punishment for fear of public opinion, and Song Lan, overwhelmed by a thousand pressing matters in recent days, had also forgotten her entirely.

Word of the mourning in the palace had arrived just days ago. The Emperor had been thrown into shock and rage and taken ill, and had then gone on a killing spree within the forbidden city — people everywhere were living in fear and anxiety.

The Zhuque Bureau had been moving freely through the city these past days with the Emperor’s personal edicts, unchallenged even by Ministry of Justice officials. It was precisely by taking advantage of this opportunity that Luowei had been able to follow Yuanming and, in the confusion, spirit Qiu Xueyu out of prison.

For safety, Luowei had not followed Ye Tingyan’s advice — she had dressed herself in Imperial Guard clothing and personally entered the Ministry of Justice prison. The Imperial Guard who had taken Qiu Xueyu’s place had originally served at the Ministry of Justice and knew its layout very well. He had brought along tinder and fire oil, ready to start a fire at an opportune moment as a diversion.

After dismounting, Luowei tied her horse at the ferry crossing along the Bianhe. Yuanming stood on the bank and gave a low whistle, then gave a slight nod and said quietly, “Young Lady Su, this is as far as this one can escort you. There are clothes prepared on the boat — once you have changed, make your way downstream along the river. The Young Master has stationed people at both the Linjiang Ferry Crossing and the Southern City Gate. Judge the situation and take whichever route seems best.”

“Thank you, Master Yuan.” Luowei curtseyed, but Yuanming hastily stopped her.

He stood on his toes and looked out, saw that the boat had not yet arrived, and only then said, “The situation at the Ministry of Justice — no one knows how long it can be held off. Young Master has urged you not to worry about matters in the city and to leave before sundown. All affairs in the city, including the matter of your elder brother — Young Master will find a way.”

Luowei asked, “I had originally arranged with him that after rescuing the person from the Ministry of Justice today, I would first return to the residence, and then leave the city on the day my elder brother is scheduled for execution when the Ministry of Justice is set on fire. Why has he suddenly changed the plan?”

Before Yuanming could answer, they heard a sudden commotion from behind. He turned his head — and from a distance, he spotted a towering prisoner’s cage cart.

Inside the cage cart was a prisoner whose clothing was soaked through with blood. Both hands were locked to the top of the cart, and he hung there, half-dead, his head drooping. Despite such a wretched state, he had still taken care to pin his hair up neatly.

“I hear today’s execution is of the young lord from the Su family. The Su family was so illustrious — how did they fall to such a state after Her Highness the Empress fell ill… Look at him — even facing death, a gentleman will not let his hair come undone. That is the bearing of a great noble clan.”

“Come to think of it, it is rather strange — this young Master Su doesn’t have the strength to truss a chicken, so how could he have been convicted of attempted assassination within the forbidden palace and sentenced to immediate beheading? Our dynasty’s laws say execution cannot be carried out while it’s still raining or before dawn — and today of all days the sky is so clear, and it’s not even past mid-afternoon yet, it really is…”

The moment Yuanming made out the face of the person inside the cage cart, his expression changed entirely. He turned at once. “Something has changed in the forbidden palace. Please, My Lady, set off immediately!”

The boat had already arrived at the dock. Luowei also recognized the person in the cage cart. Her knees gave way, and she nearly collapsed on the spot. Qiu Xueyu half-dragged, half-supported her onto the boat, and together they lifted a corner of the black canopy to look out.

“Weiwei…”

“I know,” Luowei gripped her hand, yet her gaze did not move. Her words came tumbling out in no particular order, “Why did Song Lan act so quickly — why, why so fast?”

Qiu Xueyu had no answer. She could only instruct the oarsmen to ease the boat along at the same pace as the cage cart for the time being. The Bianhe was full of flower boats and pleasure craft, and a single small vessel threading through them was not especially conspicuous.

Though Luowei and her nominally adopted elder brother appeared to others as distant, Qiu Xueyu knew that the bond between them was no less than that of true siblings.

After returning to the capital all those years ago, when Luowei had learned that her elder brother had given up his chance to study in Xuzhou in order to stay and care for their ailing father, she had held him and wept the whole night through. The next day, when she came to find Qiu Xueyu, her eyes were swollen like peaches. All these years they had tacitly kept a certain distance from each other — purely out of fear of dragging one another down.

The black-canopied boat rocked gently along the Bianhe, moored directly opposite the Eastern Market execution ground.

Chang Zhao, serving as the supervising official for the execution, looked up at the fading evening sky, then unhurriedly turned the execution authorization tablet over and over in his fingers, giving no order to proceed.

Luowei knew — he was waiting for her.

If only this could have been delayed for a few days — even just one day — giving her and Ye Tingyan some time to arrange things, even at the risk of being caught again by Song Lan, she would have made a desperate attempt.

But as rushed as things were now — what could she do? What was she capable of doing? Even coming aboard this black-canopied boat to see him off in person put her at such great risk.

Why had Song Lan moved so quickly? Had he noticed something amiss? Even if he wanted to force a meeting with her, he should at least have given her sufficient time to prepare.

Her elder brother and Qiu Xueyu were different — Song Lan did not believe she would risk everything for Qiu Xueyu, or for Yu Suiyun, people she had only known by chance encounter. But he was willing to bet on whether she would show herself for the elder brother she had grown up with from childhood.

From behind Luowei, Qiu Xueyu reached forward and placed her hand gently over Luowei’s mouth.

She was worried that Luowei would let out a stifled sob and attract suspicion. Chang Zhao was standing right there on the bank, and there would be ambushes laid everywhere — they hadn’t even made contact with any of their people in the city, and if they made even the slightest misstep, alone and without help, they would have nowhere left to die.

Hot tears fell in great drops from Luowei’s eyes onto the back of Qiu Xueyu’s hand, burning enough to make her flinch. Qiu Xueyu dared not make a sound, and could only hold her tightly in the darkness of the black-canopied boat, hoping to offer some small comfort.

Her own eyes stung, and she blinked once — and her tears fell too.

Qiu Xueyu quickly raised her hand to wipe them away. She had spent three months in prison and had little strength left, and could only press close to Luowei’s ear and say in a hoarse voice, “Weiwei — you must hold on, you must hold on. You have to live on… Only by living can you avenge him — avenge them all!”