Bai Jin shifted on the bunk to face the other way. “I thought coming out on assignment with Seventh Brother would mean a leisurely trip — scenic views, pretty sights, and fresh seafood in Taishan at the end of it. I never imagined we’d run straight into a murder case halfway there. What rotten luck.”

E Yuan said nothing. He bent back over the body, resuming his careful examination. The truth was, he too very much wanted to know how the Sixth Miss had identified Yan Xiuling’s psychiatric condition.

Yan Qing had dozed off for a while when a gentle hand nudged her awake. She opened her eyes to find Jing Zhi’s face.

“Miss, we’re almost there. Let me help you freshen up a little first — wouldn’t want you to catch a chill from the perspiration.” Jing Zhi pressed a white handkerchief softly to the corners of Yan Qing’s brow, while Murong had already extended a cup of water toward her.

Yan Qing drank, then turned to look out the window — and suddenly caught sight of a vast, boundless sweep of blue. A note of delight entered her voice. “The sea.”

“Miss, you’ve been coming to Taishan since you were small — how can you still get so excited just seeing the ocean?” Jing Zhi laughed, teasing gently.

What Jing Zhi did not know was that the city where Yan Qing lived — the place she thought of as home — lay inland in the south and had rivers but no sea. The nature of her work had meant she rarely left the city, so she had never truly seen the open ocean. Now, as this wide expanse of blue filled her eyes, it struck her with something raw and overwhelming — pure wonder, like a long-held breath finally released. The urge to cry out with joy was almost irresistible.

The train swept along the coast with a rush of wind. Fishing boats dotted the surface of the water; gulls wheeled overhead; layer after layer of white surf rolled in and broke, lending the scene a depth and grandeur that made it difficult to look away.

“We’re finally almost there.” Jing Zhi leaned her head out of the window in delight. “I can already see the station.”

Murong pulled her back at once. “Enough of that — start packing.”

By the time the three of them had gathered their things, the train had already slowed to a crawl as it drew into Taishan Station and eased to a stop beside the platform.

Jing Zhi carried the trunk and followed behind. Murong pushed Yan Qing ahead. The mistress and her two maids made their way forward with equal measures of curiosity and anticipation, pausing here and there to take everything in.

“Miss, are you really not going to tell our uncle we’re arriving? He always used to come and meet us.”

“The Miss wants to surprise him. Not telling him ahead of time means we go on our own just the same — it works out fine either way.”

Just as Murong was about to hail a rickshaw, a black snub-nosed automobile rolled quietly to a stop in front of them.

The door opened, and one long leather-booted leg stepped out. Shi Ting was still wearing his black leather jacket, which gave his entire bearing a crisp, commanding quality. Though undeniably striking, there was a coolness about him that kept others at a distance — except when his gaze rested on Yan Qing, where the faintest trace of warmth stirred.

“I’ll take you.”

Yan Qing had just opened her mouth to decline when Shi Ting produced his pocket watch and checked it. “If you would prefer a rickshaw, you may as well give up on that idea now.”

With so many passengers flooding out, every available rickshaw had long since been claimed.

Jing Zhi looked around. “Miss, it’s true — there really are no carts left.”

“After you.” Shi Ting stepped aside and cleared the way to the car door. “Consider it my thanks for the help you gave me on the train.”

Shi Ting had put it in those terms, and Yan Qing had no wish to continue refusing. She had always preferred things to be settled evenly between people, with no debts owed on either side.

With Murong’s help, she got into the car. The three of them took the rear seats, while Shi Ting sat up front beside the driver.

Murong gave the address, and the car eased out of the train station.

Perhaps because of Shi Ting’s presence, even the habitually talkative Jing Zhi sat in perfectly obedient silence. It had never once occurred to her, in all her daydreaming, that this man — a figure spoken of in hushed, almost legendary tones among the maids — would one day be sharing a car with her.

“Sixth Miss, I have a question.” The legendary figure suddenly spoke. His head turned slightly to one side, and his gaze settled directly on Yan Qing’s face.