Her fragrance.

Her warmth.

How wonderful—it had all been just a nightmare after all. Bao Zhu was still safely by his side.

Wei Xun felt himself lying relaxed among soft clouds, all fear, grief, and hatred completely dissolved. Yes, from now on he would hold the moon tightly, never letting her leave his sight again. He would hide her in mountain peaks or secluded valleys where no one could find her… blocking her path to Youzhou…

But then what?

Wei Xun’s eyes snapped open.

Before him was Bao Zhu’s bedroom, but she herself was not there. He lay on her bed, covered by her quilt. Those reassuring, familiar scents that brought him comfort were merely the invisible traces left behind after her disappearance. Reality was still mired in the nightmare’s quagmire.

Shisan Lang sat on a stool. Seeing him awake, he called out “Senior Brother.”

Wei Xun sat up, asking in bewilderment: “What happened to me?”

Shisan Lang replied: “I heard a thud from upstairs and went up to find Senior Brother collapsed on the floor. I suppose after these days of traveling without rest or sleep, your physical strength has reached its limit.”

Wei Xun immediately stood up, patting and tidying Bao Zhu’s pillow and bedding, complaining: “I’m terribly dirty—you shouldn’t have put me on her bed.” Recalling how he had discovered the rouge mark Bao Zhu left behind, the shock and joy had caused his emotions to surge, making him faint.

Shisan Lang explained: “You threw out both our bedrolls. Besides, if you had slept downstairs and Second Senior Brother and Third Senior Sister returned to find you unconscious, they might have…”

Wei Xun steadied himself, knowing Shisan Lang had considered everything carefully. The reason those people from Canyang Academy continued working to find Bao Zhu was only because of his martial threat. If he showed the slightest weakness, they would certainly take advantage.

“How long did I sleep?”

Seeing the dark circles under his eyes and his face shrouded in gray mist, looking worse than his own condition after serious injury, Shisan Lang said worriedly: “Less than an hour. You should lie down a bit longer.”

Wei Xun murmured: “Then she suffered for another hour…”

Outside the window, the sky was approaching dusk. The vendors’ calls hawking goods on the Luo River gradually fell silent. The sedan chair Yang Xingjian had hired stopped at the courtyard gate, coincidentally meeting Tuoba Sanniang and Qiu Ren returning from their rest break. Coming from completely different backgrounds and having nothing in common to discuss, they pretended not to know each other and entered the courtyard one after another.

Wei Xun looked at the three people before him, gave some thought to the personnel arrangement, and said to Yang Xingjian: “Don’t rush to get off the ground yet. Put on your official robes. I’ve just found the route the kidnappers used to escape. Nine times out of ten, these people are the ones who abducted her. You three, come with me.”

Yang Xingjian was immediately so excited his hands trembled slightly, while Tuoba Sanniang and Qiu Ren were puzzled, wondering silently why Wei Xun, with his abilities to single-handedly challenge any sect’s masters, would want to bring along such a helpless burden.

So Wei Xun and Tuoba Sanniang went on foot, Yang Xingjian rode in the sedan chair, and Qiu Ren rode a mule. The four hurried along the Luo River toward Qingyan Ward in the eastern part of the city.

Arriving at their destination, they saw a dock with ten or so boats of various sizes moored around it. Directly across from the dock stood a grand mansion. Outside its courtyard walls was mounted a commemorative plaque with peeling gold foil, inscribed with the three characters “Ascension Family,” signed by Cui Dongyang, Prefect of Henan Prefecture.

Night was gradually falling. Private boats had stopped due to curfew, except for one large vessel loaded with blooming osmanthus flowers entering from outside the city, slowly gliding across the water’s surface, bound for some noble family’s evening banquet.

At the mansion’s entrance sat two long benches with six burly escort masters seated on either side. This was the headquarters of the Luoqing Gang—the home of “Ferry Boat” Cao Hong.

Tuoba Sanniang, with all her experience, saw the dock and immediately understood the whole story: “They used the waterway to kidnap someone? How cunning indeed.”

Yang Xingjian got down from the sedan chair and, leaning on his walking stick, gazed at the weathered stone plaque from afar with furrowed brows: “His own sister was the first Goddess of Mercy slave. Could this man really have committed such inhuman, worse-than-animals acts?”

At this moment, the gate guards saw these four people of vastly different identities approaching, including an official in green robes. Confused, they all stood up together.

Wei Xun said coldly in a loud voice: “Blue-robed Guest, Lute Sound Demon, and Ghost Hand Vajra of Canyang Academy come to visit Gang Leader Cao Hong.”

Yang Xingjian pondered for a while, thinking how to include his own title among these strange jianghu nicknames, but truly couldn’t think of an appropriate way to phrase it, so he simply remained silent.

For over ten days, Canyang Academy had run wild through Luoyang, making these nicknames thunderous in reputation. The escort masters were greatly alarmed. Today was an important day for their gang leader, yet these fiends had come to their door for no apparent reason. Though they spoke of “visiting,” naming names like this clearly meant they came with ill intent. They could only send two people inside to report.

After a moment, a clean and efficient young man in his twenties emerged from the mansion, bowing with cupped hands: “I am Cao Hong’s younger brother, Cao Run. May I ask if the heroes of Canyang Academy have come to attend my brother’s tonsure ceremony?”

Qiu Ren exclaimed “Oh!” and laughed mockingly: “Done too many evil deeds, so now he wants to wash his hands and become a monk?”

Hearing his sarcastic and harsh words, Cao Run knew these people’s formidable reputation and couldn’t oppose them directly. A few days ago at the Jinbo Pavilion gathering, though the Luoqing Gang hadn’t participated, the legendary stories of Canyang Academy’s five members resisting martial artists a hundred times their number, with the leading Blue-robed Guest single-handedly challenging the five great sect leaders and retreating unharmed, had already spread throughout the jianghu.

Suppressing his anger, he said with neither servility nor arrogance: “The Luoqing Gang acts with honor and integrity. My brother, nicknamed Ferry Boat, has always been charitable and devoutly Buddhist. Only because old injuries have flared up and he can no longer shoulder the responsibilities of gang leader has he invited three elders from White Camel Temple to perform his tonsure.”

The purpose of Cao Run’s words was to explain that Cao Hong had considerable reputation in the jianghu, and that three venerable elders from White Camel Temple were currently at the Cao residence. If Canyang Academy intended to cause trouble, they should consider the consequences carefully.

Tuoba Sanniang laughed: “Which old injuries have flared up? Injuries to his conscience?”

At this point, Wei Xun’s spirit was near its limit, like a kite string in a storm about to snap. He had no patience for more verbal sparring. During the carpet search over the past few days, he hadn’t overlooked the Luoqing Gang’s headquarters and had already carefully investigated this mansion, finding nothing suspicious. Coming here again now, he needed to consider a different approach to break through the fog.

Wei Xun glanced at Yang Xingjian, who immediately understood, coughed twice to clear his throat, gathered his spirits, assumed his impressive official authority, and declared loudly: “I am a court official, chief clerk of a prince’s mansion. I’ve come today to question Cao Hong about the disappearance of the Goddess of Mercy slave. Idle persons must not obstruct!” With that, he leaned on his walking stick and headed straight inside.

Though the Luoqing Gang had considerable strength in the jianghu, they had little experience dealing with officials. Hearing he was from a prince’s mansion, everyone looked at each other in confusion, unclear about his exact rank and position, not daring to obstruct him. They could only let him enter. Wei Xun and the others followed closely behind, stepping into the Cao residence.

Yang Xingjian had hit walls everywhere in Luoyang’s official circles. Now, to obtain search authorization, he deliberately spoke ambiguously, claiming to be a prince’s mansion official while cleverly avoiding specifying which prince. In the eyes of Luoyang people, he must surely be a subordinate of Prince Qi. Cao Run and the escort masters wondered privately how the Goddess of Mercy slave matter could be connected to that old prince.

The Cao family had built up over several generations, with three generations under one roof, old and young alike. Though the ancestral home wasn’t luxurious, it was quite spacious. Cao Run was anxious as fire, hurrying toward the main hall to deliver the news first.

In the main hall, torches burned bright as day. Cao Hong and Cao Run’s father, Cao Daze, sat in the place of honor with his eldest son Cao Hong beside him. Cao Daze had been half-paralyzed from an old injury, and after his beloved daughter Cao Yan ascended, he had become lonely and aged terribly. Though dissatisfied with his eldest son’s decision, since Cao Hong was the gang leader and insisted on this course, no amount of persuasion could change his mind.

He claimed he would enter Buddhist orders sooner or later, remaining unmarried, seemingly deliberately severing worldly bonds and refusing to leave behind any attachments. The position of gang leader could only be passed to his still somewhat immature younger brother Cao Run.

Cao Hong’s decision to become a monk wasn’t proclaimed widely like others who washed their hands of martial life, only inviting close relatives, friends, and important gang members to witness. Abbess Duanchen was also among them. The three elders Huijue, Huiyuan, and Huiding accepted the Luoqing Gang’s invitation to personally attend the Cao residence for Cao Hong’s tonsure, all because of his usual reputation for helping those in distress and doing good deeds.

When first hearing news of Canyang Academy’s arrival, everyone was shocked and bewildered, except Cao Hong, who remained calm as if he had expected this.

It wasn’t until his brother Cao Run hurried back and whispered in his ear “Three from Canyang Academy, coming together with an official from Prince Qi’s mansion,” that this steady old jianghu veteran’s eyes finally flashed with surprise. He forcibly suppressed it with his inner strength, and within moments had regained his composure.

Wei Xun’s group crossed the threshold. Except for the disabled Cao Daze, the dozen or so other guests couldn’t help standing up, looking with uncertainty and suspicion at these people who by all rights should never be walking together.

Yang Xingjian knew his official robes were merely a door-opening tool, and that the actual performance depended on Wei Xun’s arrangements. After entering the main hall, he restrained his aggressive manner and quietly found a corner chair near the door to sit in. When servants brought tea, he leisurely picked up the cup to drink, saying not a word, appearing increasingly inscrutable.

Such a combination of court and jianghu was simply unprecedented. Everyone felt uneasy, with Cao Daze’s mind full of doubts: Had this year’s taxes been paid in full? Had anyone been left out of the dock’s various tribute payments? How could Canyang Academy be working together with court people?

Cao Hong glanced at the silent official in green robes by the door, understanding in his heart that what should come would always come. These years of evil deeds, though done against his will, ultimately couldn’t be offset by good works. But since the Sun Sect had sent this person to supervise, to preserve the lives of everyone in the Cao household as well as the gang members who depended on the water for their livelihood, even if he was utterly disgraced, he absolutely could not reveal the slightest information.

He cupped his hands in salute and said loudly: “I am ‘Ferry Boat’ Cao Hong. May I ask what instruction you have for visiting here?”

“Ferry Boat… This boat of yours—does it carry people across the River of Forgetfulness or over the Bridge of Helplessness?”

Wei Xun spoke very softly, but the main hall was utterly silent, so every single word reached everyone’s ears clearly.

“After painstaking effort, I finally discovered the kidnappers used the waterway. Every cargo boat on this Luo River has your Luoqing Gang’s escort masters providing protection; every dock has sworn brothers of the Cao family standing guard. Cao Hong, where have your subordinates hidden the Donkey-riding Lady? Are you deciding to become a monk today to turtle up and hide in White Camel Temple to escape pursuit?”

These accusations stirred up tremendous waves. Not only were the Cao family’s blood relatives and the Luoqing Gang’s various escort leaders filled with righteous indignation, even the three elders performing Cao Hong’s tonsure felt extremely insulted. After all, Cao Hong had been kind to others for many years with an excellent reputation, while the one making baseless accusations against him was an extremely vicious heretic.

Cao Daze flushed red with anger, glaring with wide eyes as he cursed: “Slanderous lies! Though our Luoqing Gang has ‘Luo’ in its name, this is the Eastern Capital, and our Cao family makes our living from the water. We earn clean, honest money—we’re not bandits and strongmen who forcibly occupy waterways! What concrete evidence do you have that kidnappers are connected to us?”

Abbess Duanchen, having stayed in Luoyang for a full year to investigate the truth behind the Goddess of Mercy slaves’ ascension, had conducted detailed investigations into every ascension family’s background. Among the mixed fish and dragons of various gangs, the Luoqing Gang could be called a clear stream. She spoke up righteously: “Hero Cao’s daughter also once served as a Goddess of Mercy slave and likewise disappeared without trace. Even if you can’t share common hatred of the enemy, you shouldn’t baselessly slander innocent people.”

Wei Xun took out a small porcelain box from his robes and opened the lid. Under the firelight, the contents appeared as piercingly red as fresh blood. Most present were rough jianghu folk who stared blankly for a moment before realizing it was a box of rouge for women’s makeup.

Looking at this cosmetic, Cao Hong’s mind filled with the scene of abducting someone from their room that time. In seven long years, their crimes had never been detected, and that day’s substitution plan had been perfect. Yet he had unconsciously made one fatal error: not immediately knocking the young woman unconscious, giving her the chance to leave a mark.

In that moment, was he subconsciously hoping his crimes would be discovered and stopped? His thoughts scattered as he remembered how his Yanyan had also left home empty-handed years ago, tearfully taking only a box of rouge as a keepsake of the past.

Wei Xun held the porcelain box in his palm, saying coldly: “When she was abducted, she left marks pointing toward the only route accessible by water. The person who could carry someone and escape soundlessly from a second-floor window has considerable martial skills. We need only compare the shoe prints left on the eaves with your people one by one to find the culprit.”

Cao Hong responded indifferently: “The Cao household has over twenty people, the Luoqing Gang has over two hundred members. You intend to treat us all as suspects? What reason do we have to cooperate with your footprint comparisons?”

A smile slowly bloomed across the pale face of this young master, but the smile contained no warmth whatsoever—only chilling madness, with dark pupils sunken deep in their sockets flickering with ghostly light.

“No reason at all. Having stepped into this mansion today, I will definitely find clues about this person. Otherwise, I’ll slaughter everyone in your Cao family taller than a boat awning.”

At these words, the main hall immediately filled with the clashing sounds of swords being drawn from sheaths. Under the firelight, cold steel flashed as everyone’s expression changed.

Tuoba Sanniang and Qiu Ren watched coldly from the sidelines, silently wondering whether they should join this madman’s rampage. Setting aside this rabble, once fighting began, at least those three old monks from White Camel Temple wouldn’t stand idly by, making the situation difficult to control.

Yang Xingjian’s heart pounded wildly, but he struggled to maintain composure on the surface, gently blowing at the tea leaves floating in his cup with an air of detached indifference. He calculated that as long as his official authority achieved its intimidating purpose and made these rough folk cooperate with the investigation, using finesse instead of force could avoid bloodshed.

But this expression of casual detachment, in Cao Hong’s eyes, was equivalent to the silent tolling of a death knell.

Years ago, Prince Qi had used Yanyan as a bargaining chip, forcing him to participate in exchange for protecting his family. This was all so that one day, if exposed, he would take the blame and bear the punishment. Now, the moment of final judgment had finally arrived.

Cao Hong removed the two short blades from his waist, placing them sheathed on the table. Like casting off the thousand-pound burden that had tormented his heart for years, he said calmly: “No need for such trouble. The one who kidnapped the Donkey-riding Lady and previous Goddess of Mercy slaves—that was me.”