After returning to the Cui residence, Li Ying still could not accept the cruel fact that her father had killed her. Her grief was as painful as being pierced by ten thousand arrows. Across the country, the eternal lamps in forty thousand Buddhist temples suddenly dimmed. The abbots, shocked by this occurrence, collectively reported it to the Empress Dowager. Greatly alarmed, the Empress Dowager, out of her deep love for her daughter, fasted for seven days and ordered all monks throughout the country to recite the Ksitigarbha Sutra to pray for Li Ying’s soul.

But how could the Empress Dowager know that Li Ying’s soul was now in Chang’an, residing in Cui Xun’s mansion?

Wrapped in a brocade quilt, Li Ying leaned against the wall. Though auspicious charcoal burned in the room, no matter how thick the quilt or how much charcoal was used, they could not dispel her coldness. Tears silently slid down her face, dampening a patch of the brocade quilt.

The wooden door creaked open. It was Cui Xun.

These past few days, Cui Xun had claimed illness and not attended court, choosing instead to stay by Li Ying’s side. He brought a package of sugar frost candy from Fumantang, then sat silently at the edge of the bed. After opening the package, he offered a piece to Li Ying: “I just went to buy these. Would you like to try one?”

Li Ying took it and put it in her mouth. The sugar frost was very sweet, but it could hardly soothe the bitterness in her heart. Seeing her blank expression, Cui Xun felt even more distressed. He said, “If it doesn’t taste good, I’ll go buy something else.”

He stood up to leave, but Li Ying suddenly grabbed his hand. Her voice was very soft, with the choking sound of someone who had been crying: “Seventeenth Young Master…”

Cui Xun pressed his lips together and said, “I won’t leave.”

He slowly sat down, struggling internally for a long while before gently holding Li Ying’s hand in return. His palm carried the fragrance of orchid and angelica. Before entering Li Ying’s room, he had filled a silver basin with clear water, added incense ash, orchid, and angelica—both pure and elegant things. He had washed his hands repeatedly, though he felt he could never wash away the blood on them. After washing a hundred times, he could finally deceive himself into believing that he wouldn’t soil her.

Only after this self-deception could he dare to use his hands, fragrant with orchid and angelica, to gently hold hers in her time of sorrow.

Although Li Ying’s palm was cold, it was no longer as icy as when she first learned the truth. Perhaps the Empress Dowager’s prayers were having an effect. Cui Xun said, “At least your mother truly cared for you.”

Li Ying silently wept. Suddenly she asked, “Then if forced to choose between the empire and me, whom would my mother choose?”

“You,” Cui Xun replied without hesitation. “Your mother is different from the late Emperor.”

Compared to the late Emperor’s ruthless cruelty, the Empress Dowager placed more emphasis on family ties. This was perhaps because, although the Empress Dowager came from an impoverished background, she had experienced familial love from an early age. Her parents loved her, as did her older sister. Unlike the late Emperor, who had his mother killed and was separated from his son at a young age, and who had to contend with Empress Dowager Xue while still a child, which fostered his more ruthless character.

So faced with the same situation, the late Emperor wouldn’t have wavered, but the Empress Dowager would.

Li Ying asked no more questions. She only felt a suffocating sensation in her heart. She slowly closed her eyes and murmured, “I don’t want to forgive my father anymore… I don’t want to see him again…”

But she could never see him again. The late Emperor had passed away twenty years ago and was no longer in this world. His soul had presumably ascended to become an immortal. Li Ying didn’t even have the chance to confront him.

Cui Xun was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, “My uncle was also an accomplice. You can’t reincarnate, presumably because he is still alive. If…”

He paused, then continued, “If you want to take revenge on him, I won’t stop you.”

Li Ying didn’t speak. After a long while, she finally said vacantly, “No need.”

“You… don’t need to consider me… Those who kill should pay with their lives.”

Li Ying gave a bitter smile: “I’m not considering you. Those who kill should indeed pay with their lives, but is Cui Songqing truly the main culprit?”

Cui Xun didn’t answer. As Jin Ni had confessed, if the late Emperor hadn’t given his approval, Jin Ni and Cui Songqing wouldn’t have dared to harm Li Ying even if they had ten thousand times the courage.

Li Ying said wearily, “If it wasn’t him, then what’s the use of killing him?”

The mastermind was already gone. What was the point of seeking revenge on an accomplice?

Cui Xun remained silent. Though it was May and the auspicious charcoal burned brightly in the room, Li Ying’s hands were still as cold as water, just like the temperature in her heart. Cui Xun lowered his gaze and, as if using all his strength to struggle, finally dared to slowly tighten his grip on Li Ying’s hand and say, “Jin Ni’s confession stated that your death was a great benefit to the empire. But I want to say that in this world, no one except yourself has the right to decide your life or death, much less the right to judge the value of your life or death.”

The bedchamber was quiet. The calming incense wafted from the white crane incense burner. Li Ying’s hand was gently held in Cui Xun’s palm, warm and comforting. Her heart finally began to warm gradually. She bit her lip and, with a slightly hoarse, sobbing voice, said, “Mm.”

Cui Xun stayed with Li Ying at the mansion for several days. As her despair gradually eased, Cui Xun took Li Ying outside Chang’an city. By then, it was early summer, with flowers in full bloom and peach and plum trees blossoming in competition. Cui Xun tied up the horse and sat with Li Ying beside a babbling brook. A gentle breeze blew, and the water sparkled. Li Ying ran her fingers through the clear water and said, “You’ve accompanied me long enough. Tomorrow you should go back to court.”

Cui Xun merely replied, “Whether I attend court or not doesn’t matter.”

After all, Emperor Longxing didn’t particularly want to see him.

Li Ying sighed softly. She had never actually met Emperor Longxing but had only heard from others that he was a person of great benevolence and filial piety. However, he and her mother were her last remaining relatives. She still hoped they could treat Cui Xun better. She frowned and said, “My brother carries the dragon aura. I cannot see him, otherwise…”

She paused. Otherwise, what? She was merely a ghost who couldn’t even materialize, let alone give advice.

A shadow of sadness appeared in Li Ying’s eyes. Cui Xun suddenly smiled and said, “But I don’t particularly want to see His Majesty either.”

Li Ying was startled: “Why not?”

Cui Xun didn’t answer, merely saying self-mockingly, “After all, ‘both thunder and dew are imperial favors.'”

Li Ying didn’t understand. After thinking for a moment, she assumed Cui Xun was unhappy because when he was confined to his mansion, her brother had treated him like a prisoner. The month of torment had left him displeased. From her time with Cui Xun, she knew he was not blindly loyal or filial. The saying he just quoted, “both thunder and dew are imperial favors,” was certainly not something he would agree with.

But her brother treated Cui Xun this way because the rumors about her mother and Cui Xun outside were too vile to hear. It was understandable that her brother disliked Cui Xun.

Li Ying found both Cui Xun’s reasoning and her brother’s reasoning sensible, and as she pondered this dilemma, she forgot her own sorrows. Eventually, thinking made her head ache, so she stopped thinking about it and instead asked Cui Xun for something: “By the way, when you went to the main hall, what about the peony five-colored brocade sachet I gave you? Give it back to me.”

That peony five-colored brocade sachet contained the hair strands she had secretly made. She treasured it greatly.

Now it was Cui Xun’s turn to be startled. He awkwardly said, “I lost it.”

“Lost it?” Li Ying widened her eyes.

Cui Xun nodded, somewhat embarrassed: “I accidentally lost it while handling cases at the Investigation Department. I looked for it for a long time but couldn’t find it.”

Li Ying could hardly believe it. Cui Xun had always been meticulous; how could he have simply lost the sachet? Then she thought, could it have been stolen by his political enemies? She worried, “This sachet is a woman’s belonging. If someone with ill intentions found it, it might cause a scandal.”

Cui Xun, however, seemed unconcerned: “A mere sachet won’t cause much of a scandal.”

He stood up and said, “It’s getting dark. Let’s head back.”

On the way back, they rode together. Li Ying was still concerned about the sachet: “Did you lose that sachet?”

“Really.”

Li Ying sighed. Since it was truly lost, there was nothing they could do. She could only hope that whoever found it wouldn’t recognize it as embroidery from the imperial wardrobe from thirty years ago.

As they approached the city, Cui Xun suddenly pulled on the reins, and the horse slowed down. Li Ying looked ahead in confusion and suddenly realized they were at Tonghua Gate—the place where Sheng Yunting was buried.

Without turning around, she knew that Cui Xun’s eyes must now be filled with pain. She pressed her lips together and slowly took hold of his hand on the reins, saying softly, “One day the truth will come to light.”

After a long silence from behind, a quiet “Mm” finally came. Cui Xun said, “Let’s go.”

The horse’s hooves clop-clopped as they headed toward Tonghua Gate.

But suddenly, Cui Xun’s gaze froze.

Outside Tonghua Gate, a filthy beggar was walking with the crowd toward the gate.

The people ahead all had travel permits. The guards were checking each person. When it came to the beggar’s turn, the guard covered his nose in disgust: “So smelly?”

The beggar kept her head down without saying a word and tried to walk through the gate, but was stopped by the guard: “Where’s your permit?”

“I… don’t have one.”

From the voice, it was a woman.

The guard looked more closely, but the beggar’s face was covered in grime, making it impossible to see her original features. The guard raised his voice: “No permit? How do you expect to enter Chang’an city?”

The beggar pleaded, “Only leaving the county requires a permit. I am originally from Chang’an, living in Da’an Ward. I’m returning to my own home, so I don’t need a permit.”

The guard looked her up and down: “Just because you say you’re from Chang’an doesn’t make it true! Have your family come to collect you!”

The beggar continued to plead desperately: “I have no family. Please, let me in…”

The guard impatiently pushed her: “Get lost!”

The beggar fell to the ground but got up again, still trying to enter Tonghua Gate. But before she could fully stand, she was suddenly seized by several burly men who covered her mouth and nose and firmly restrained her limbs. The guard at the gate looked over, and the leader of the men grinned foolishly: “This is a runaway slave from our master’s household. She almost snuck into Chang’an city.”

In the Great Zhou, slaves and servants were considered property, legally equivalent to livestock. If caught, runaway slaves could be executed directly. So the guard merely glanced at the situation and asked no further questions.

The leader of the group had already taken out a sack, preparing to bind the beggar and put her inside. In her terror, the beggar bit the man’s arm. He cried out in pain and released her, allowing her to escape. She immediately fled in the opposite direction of Tonghua Gate.

She ran very fast, with only one thought in her mind.

Don’t get caught and taken back.

Behind her came shouts to stop, but she ignored them, running desperately forward. But a woman’s speed is no match for a man’s. After running just a few steps, she was caught and thrown to the ground. Her arms were scraped raw by the rough sand and stones, burning with pain. But even so, she continued to struggle forward, crawling desperately. In her desperation, she thought, “Brother, this is where you are buried. If your spirit is in heaven, please help me.”

Help me…

But the burly men had already caught up to her. Her body was firmly pinned down. In an instant, grief and anger surged in her heart. Was there truly no way for her to avenge her brother? In utter despair, she could only cry out: “Brother! Brother!”

Just as she was about to be dragged away, she suddenly saw the hem of a crimson robe appear before her.

Crimson robes—worn by officials of the fourth rank.

With strength she didn’t know she possessed, she frantically broke free from the men holding her. Full of hope, she looked up. When she saw that enchantingly beautiful lotus-like face, she first froze, then, disregarding all her past disdain and disgust, grabbed the hem of his robe and refused to let go, begging: “Save me, save me…”

Her temper was truly fierce. In her earlier struggle, she had bitten and scratched several of the men. The leader wiped a trace of blood from his neck, feeling resentful. But upon seeing the crimson-robed gentleman whose robe had been grabbed, he temporarily suppressed his anger and cupped his hands in greeting: “This gentleman, excuse our disturbance. This woman is a runaway slave from our master’s household. Please be so kind as not to interfere.”

But this crimson-robed gentleman, though beautiful, had an aura as cold as ice and snow, making people shudder at the sight of him. He said languidly: “What if I want to interfere?”

The leader instinctively replied: “You dare? Do you know who our master is?”

“Who?”

The leader hesitated, unwilling to reveal the name, and only said: “A master catching a runaway slave is perfectly reasonable. By what right do you interfere?”

The crimson-robed gentleman merely snorted derision. The leader also knew that deep crimson was worn by fourth-rank officials. This person’s status might not be lower than his master’s. He became somewhat timid and tentatively asked: “Who are you?”

“Undersecretary of the Investigation Department, Cui Xun.”