The fleet had pressed on without rest for days, and after a full day of climbing through the mountains, Ziqing and her companions finally reached the source of the toxic waters — the place of pure water that the Earth King’s oracle had pointed them toward, Mingjing Lake.

The moment Ziqing laid eyes on the lake, she was struck with the sudden urge to build a small cottage on its shore and settle down there.

This place was nothing short of paradise. Mingjing Lake covered most of the mountaintop, and the rest of the slope was blanketed in blooming gardenias — a vast white sea of flowers, their fragrance drifting on the air.

The lake was enormous but shallow; even at its deepest point the water barely reached a person’s waist. It was so clear you could see straight to the bottom, every fish and every strand of waterweed visible, as though the whole lake were made of glass.

That night, once everyone had settled in, there was little in the way of entertainment. After days of hard travel, they could finally sleep on solid ground again, and so everyone turned in early to rest.

“Ugh, Han Ziqing, this whole business with Nanzhao’s earth king and his pure water and his grand festival — what a waste! I thought we’d get to eat meat and drink wine by the mouthful, and instead it’s been nothing but exhausting!” Situ Haonan complained.

All this trouble, just for water — and in the end it all came down to tomorrow’s water-splashing festival and the water-gathering ceremony. Two events. Hardly worth the fuss.

Ziqing said nothing, sitting quietly off to the side, idly toying with the scorpion-shaped ring on her index finger, the finger twitching now and then as if of its own accord.

Situ Haonan had said something to Yelu Qianqian the last time they’d spoken, though he wasn’t sure what exactly — but ever since, the girl hadn’t come running to find them every single day like clockwork, the way she used to.

“Hey, why do you never answer when I talk to you?” Situ Haonan leaned closer, asking in earnest.

Yelu Qianqian could chatter on nonstop for an entire day, while this woman here could go a whole day without saying a single word. Both women — how could they be so different?

“I don’t answer nonsense,” Ziqing said flatly, not even bothering to lift her eyes.

“You—!” Situ Haonan flared up, making a show of reaching for his sword — but in that very instant, Ziqing flicked her index finger, and what shot out wasn’t a blade of wind, but an impossibly thin hidden weapon!

It only grazed past the side of Situ Haonan’s face, but it was enough to drain the color from the big man’s cheeks in an instant.

“Han Ziqing, I was just joking around. Did you have to be that vicious?” he snapped, still shaken. This scorpion-shaped ring had been forged by the most secretive craftsman Jun Beiyue had summoned all the way from Longyuan — the hidden weapon inside it could kill without a trace!

“I was just testing it out.”

Never mind her words — even the flat, indifferent tone of her voice was enough to leave Situ Haonan choking on his own anger, utterly speechless.

She rose, retrieved the thin needle that had struck the wall on the far side, and examined it closely, finally understanding the logic behind this weapon that killed without a trace.

It was a needle thinner than an embroidery needle. If it pierced a person’s blood vessel and traveled with the bloodstream to the heart, it would leave no poison, no wound — nothing that could be detected short of dissecting the corpse.

She’d known all along that this scorpion-shaped ring was no ordinary trinket.

What an extraordinary treasure for self-protection! If Situ Haonan hadn’t happened to know its secret, and if she hadn’t deliberately aimed the shot to miss, he likely wouldn’t have escaped so easily.

Just then, Shiliang came hurrying over. “Mistress, a letter!”

She held it up as though cradling the most precious thing in the world, tilting her head to look up at Ziqing, her small, innocent face lit with pure delight. Ziqing froze for a moment, and then her quiet expression bloomed all at once into a joyful smile. She snatched the letter eagerly and tore it open.

What else could this letter be, if not word from Liuxian Island? Situ Haonan brightened too, leaning in at once.

The instant she read the contents, Ziqing lifted her head and beamed at Situ Haonan. “Good news! They’ve reached the Gu Shi family. Now that Jun Beiyue has recovered his internal energy, there are signs he might wake soon! Both Imperial Physician Gu and the Gu family’s own doctors say he’s certain to wake up!”

Situ Haonan, however, froze and instinctively took a step back. After all, in that moment he and Ziqing stood no more than an arm’s length apart — face to face, this close, watching her radiant, sweet smile. For an instant, the words very nearly slipped out of him: “Han Ziqing… you’re beautiful when you smile.”

But Ziqing had no attention to spare for Situ Haonan’s reaction. Overjoyed, careless of who might be watching, she pressed a hand to her own chest without thinking — heaven only knew how fast her heart was racing in that moment!

All the true words she’d never managed to say — she hadn’t gotten the chance to say them yet. All the questions she’d never managed to ask — she hadn’t gotten the chance to ask them yet. And that debt from the night she’d lost herself to him — she hadn’t even settled the score for that yet.

It was only good news, really — just a sign, nothing more. And yet, all at once, she felt herself grow nervous!

It was as if that man had already woken, as if he were standing just outside right now, ready to come collect what was owed between them, ready to come and lay their hearts bare to one another.

Her heart pounded and pounded, like a young girl falling in love for the first time, as if her sweetheart were calling from outside for her to come pour out her feelings to him — so nerve-wracking!

One hand pressed to her chest, the other clutching the letter tight, Ziqing slowly sank down to sit.

Watching her like this, Shiliang found it both funny and heartbreaking, as if something were slicing through her chest.

Mistress always said that she and Guxi were the purest people around — but really, it was Mistress herself who was like that. So simple, so genuine, so stubborn, so foolish!

Shiliang walked over and knelt down beside Ziqing. After a moment’s hesitation, her small hand reached out timidly, gently smoothing her mistress’s chest as if to ease the pounding within.

Ziqing didn’t push her away. She turned and smiled at the girl, and Shiliang pressed her lips together, stifling a giggle. Ziqing’s smile only widened at that, spreading with a faint sweetness, tinged with a shy blush she couldn’t quite hide.

She really was happy. She really was nervous!

Mistress and maid sat there, saying nothing, just exchanging quiet, knowing smiles, leaving Situ Haonan utterly baffled. What was wrong with the two of them? The letter couldn’t have said that much — why were they smiling like they shared some secret?

The next morning, bright and early, the water-splashing festival began. Everyone dressed in the distinctive festival garb of Nanzhao’s water-splashing tradition, and at a glance, the shores of Mingjing Lake were awash in brilliant color, the atmosphere lively, the air ringing with ethereal ceremonial music — every bit the festival spirit.

Up on the mountaintop, the morning sun was already beating down. It wasn’t as fierce as the noon sun, but it was still scorching.

Standing still for even a moment left one sweating, and once Prince Nanzhao took Consort Qin’s hand and stepped barefoot into Mingjing Lake, the crowd gathered around followed suit one after another, the cool lake water instantly chasing away the heat.

Only Chu Feiyan sat alone off to the side by the zither stand, glaring up at the blazing sun, thoroughly unwilling as he played the ceremonial music for everyone else.

“In these pure waters, there is no honor, no lowliness, no rank, no age. Friends, please use this pure water to wash away the grime and sins of those beside you!”

Prince Nanzhao called out and turned, splashing water at the crowd with a great sweep of his arm. At once, Nanzhao’s ministers and nobles all rushed forward, scrambling to be the first to claim the pure water!

The mood turned lively in an instant, everyone splashing each other. What began as harmless play soon escalated into something like a full-blown water fight, wild and spirited.

As foreign envoys unfamiliar with Nanzhao’s beliefs and with the reverence Nanzhao’s people held for this pure water, Ziqing and the others held back at first. But before long, swept up by the festive atmosphere and the warmth of the people around them, they too were drawn in and joined the fun!

Yelu Qianqian went looking for Situ Haonan again, while Ziqing deliberately slipped away, losing herself among Nanzhao’s people to feel their purest joy. Last night’s letter had put her in wonderful spirits, and soon enough she’d let herself go completely, playing along with everyone, thoroughly enjoying herself.

After the water-splashing came the water-gathering. Everyone scooped water in their hands and poured it into the great water urns; Prince Nanzhao would carry this urn of water back to the capital and personally splash it over his people, washing away the sins of their past.

A day full of laughter, a day full of noise — and once things got this lively, they were never going to wind down easily. A bonfire feast that evening was inevitable.

The bright moon hung overhead, its reflection shimmering across Mingjing Lake. All around the shore, the banquet tables were laden, and everyone drank merrily.

Amid the clinking of cups, Situ Haonan hoisted a wine jug and drank heartily with the chieftains of the three tribes, drawing cheers all around. Ziqing watched quietly, her heart full of gratitude. She glanced over at Chu Feiyan, whom Consort Qin had gotten thoroughly drunk, then at Xuanyuan Zhaoxi, slumped over the table — and got ready to slip away…