Night had fallen, and the lanterns inside the Qiao Mansion were lit.

Zuo Liang walked up to the front gate, took a quick look at it, then clenched the cleaver between his teeth, scaled the side wall, and flipped over into the courtyard.

But the moment his feet touched the ground, a sudden sharp pain shot through the soles of his feet. The earth beneath them gave way without warning, and before he could catch himself, his balance was lost — and he dropped straight down into a pit.

The bottom of the pit was lined with broken glass, and as Zuo Liang fell in, the razor-sharp shards tore a series of cuts across his body.

Even a tough man like Zuo Liang could not suppress a cry of pain.

But this was far from over. The moment he landed in the pit, something triggered a mechanism — he heard the whoosh of wind around his ears, and several crossbow bolts came flying at him in unison.

Covered in wounds, Zuo Liang managed to dodge two of the bolts, but the others showed no mercy and drove deep into his body.

Zuo Liang staggered and fell straight backward.

As the crossbow bolts ceased, something else came rushing in from all sides like a wave — and then clumps of earth began to rain down from above.

Zuo Liang lay on a bed of shattered glass, a crossbow bolt lodged in his chest. The bolt had pierced his heart, and blood was pouring out in a steady stream.

The falling earth buried him almost entirely. Only his face, coated in soil and grit, remained exposed.

He understood. This was likely nothing but an empty house now. The Qiao family had probably already left.

When they departed, they had set these traps — waiting for whoever came calling.

It was his own carelessness and overconfidence that had brought him to this.

Zuo Liang looked up at the dark sky. Countless stars glittered. The light of the moon had grown dim and faint.

He thought of when he was young — he and his younger brother had lain together on a rooftop, and his brother had asked him, “Brother, why does the moon not shine during the day?”

He had not known the answer at the time, but he was the older brother, and in his brother’s eyes, he had always known everything. And so he had answered, “Because the sun is too bright — the moon’s light gets swallowed up by it.”

Zuo Liang thought of the last time he had seen his brother and his mother. His mother had held him and wept with abandon, while his brother had looked at him and smiled.

He had known he could not stay with them — that meeting was destined to be the last.

But he had seen them. He was content.

All these years, his hands had been stained with blood. He had stopped at nothing in pursuit of vengeance and position, and he often had nightmares — dead men turning into vengeful spirits, coming to take his life.

Now, at last, it was all coming to an end.

He raised one hand with great effort. Moonlight filtered through the gaps between his fingers, broken and scattered.

He thought: if that night, he had not crawled into that carriage — if his father had never taken on that errand to earn a fatal sum of money — if…

But there are no such things as ‘if’ in this world.

Zuo Liang closed his eyes and smiled at the corners of his lips. He knew that the smile on his face right now must have been serene and content.

After a long time, the moonlight still lingered there — but the man in the pit had stopped breathing.

The moon has shone down from ancient times until today, bearing witness to every rise and fall in this world. It wears a gentle smile, and has long since seen through every joy and sorrow, every illness and pain of all living things.

Day and night revolve in turn, and the next day the sun rises just the same as ever. Who will remember what happened yesterday?

~

Conflict flared on all sides. In Shun Cheng, the fires of war had already been kindled, and in the Bei Di region, along the coast of Hai Cheng, the southwestern army had already crossed the border.

A swath of dark clouds hung over Bei Di. Even the wind that stirred carried with it the smell of gunpowder.

Early the next morning, Yan Qing woke. She washed her face, changed her clothes, and when she pushed the door open, Jing Zhi and Murong were standing there talking.

When they saw her come out, Jing Zhi said, “Miss, there are more and more soldiers outside. They have the place surrounded like an iron barrel.”

Yan Qing understood that Shi Guang intended to use them as bait and hostages. Even if Shi Ting returned, he would be forced to hold back.

Squad Leader An was still keeping watch outside. There were people monitoring the area around the clock, every hour of every day. Even setting aside the fact that Yan Qing was merely a woman without martial ability — even a skilled fighter would find it no easy task to escape from this iron cage.

Noticing Yan Qing glance in his direction, Squad Leader An immediately looked away. It had to be said — the gaze of this Seventh Young Mistress was far too penetrating. No matter what she looked at, you could never read what she was thinking from her eyes, yet she could see straight through what was in yours. To meet her stare required a certain strength of character.

“Squad Leader An,” Yan Qing walked over, her voice calm and steady. “Would you please convey a message to Shi Guang — I wish to see my mother.”

“Young Mistress, please do not make things difficult for me. The Second Young Master has said that Second Concubine Mother is fine. There is no need for the Young Mistress to visit.”

“As her daughter-in-law, it is my duty to show filial care. A single word saying she is fine does not suffice. I must see her with my own eyes.” Yan Qing’s manner was firm. “You do not need to explain yourself to me. If you cannot make this decision, then have Shi Guang come and see me himself.”

“Young Mistress.” Squad Leader An curled his lip. “Let me give you a kind word of advice — you are already a bird in a cage.”

“Shi Guang is keeping us here because he wants to use us to threaten the Young Commander, is he not? If we are alive, this scheme of his may yet succeed. But what if we are dead?”

Squad Leader An was startled. “Young Mistress, what do you mean by that?”

“So. Have Shi Guang come and see me.”

Squad Leader An had no desire to deal with this Young Mistress and was just about to turn and make himself scarce when he saw Shi Guang walking over.

Shi Guang was holding two fish in his hand — they appeared freshly caught, still alive and thrashing. He walked over with the fish dangling from his hand, water still dripping from their scales.

“Yan Qing, you are in luck today. Someone just delivered these two fish. The ice on the surface has not melted yet — it was no small feat to catch fish like these.” Shi Guang greeted her like an old friend. “I was told that you love fish above all else, so I brought them over for you.”

Looking at Shi Guang’s utterly nonchalant expression, Yan Qing could not help but admire the thickness of his skin.

“What is the matter? You are not happy?” Shi Guang glanced at Squad Leader An, as if asking.

Squad Leader An, full of grievances, quickly explained, “The Young Mistress wanted to see Second Concubine Mother. But the Second Young Master gave instructions that the Young Mistress is to stay here and may not go anywhere. I told the Young Mistress this, but she asked me to find the Second Young Master — and here the Second Young Master is.”

Squad Leader An’s lips twitched. Now that Shi Guang had come, this was no longer his problem. He had absolutely no desire to deal with this Young Mistress.

Shi Guang gave a light smile. “I have arranged everything on Second Mother’s end — it is just as it normally would be. There is no need for you to worry.”

“I wish to see her myself.”

Shi Guang sighed and said with equanimity, “Yan Qing, you know me better than most. I am not deceiving you. Second Mother is truly well right now. If you do not believe me, you may send your maid to take a look.”

Hearing Shi Guang say this, Yan Qing replied, “All right. Let Jing Zhi go and have a look. Otherwise I cannot be at ease.”

Shi Guang smiled and nodded, then swung the fish in his hand in front of Yan Qing. “Since you love fish so much, we can have it braised or steamed in the kitchen a little later — whichever you prefer.”

The two fish were still alive, their bodies giving off a raw, fishy smell. Because of Shi Guang’s movement, their tails were flopping up and down, and a few droplets of water flicked off and landed on Yan Qing’s face.

The moment the fishy smell reached her, a wave of nausea surged up from Yan Qing’s chest.

She had always loved fish. She used to enjoy making all sorts of different fish dishes herself. But ever since she became pregnant, some of the foods she had always enjoyed suddenly lost their appeal — and certain smells she disliked made her feel sick and nauseous.

“Miss.” Jing Zhi noticed that Yan Qing’s expression had changed and shifted to block Shi Guang’s line of sight.

Shi Guang slowly drew back the fish in his hand, looking toward Yan Qing’s direction with some suspicion.

“Miss, let us go back.” Jing Zhi said.

Yan Qing was also afraid Shi Guang might notice something, and quickly followed Jing Zhi back inside.

“Yan Qing.” Shi Guang strode forward and pulled Jing Zhi aside with one arm — and with the jolt of that movement, the fish he was holding went flying up too, its tail brushing right across Yan Qing’s lips. The fishy smell was amplified to an unbearable degree.

Yan Qing could not hold back — she doubled over to one side and began to retch.

“Miss.”

“Miss.” Murong and Jing Zhi rushed to her side.

Shi Guang watched Yan Qing retch violently, her face drained to an unusual pallor. His mind raced, and he seemed to grasp something.

“What is wrong with your mistress?” Shi Guang’s voice dropped to a low, deep register.

“Miss has been feeling a little unwell lately,” Jing Zhi said quickly. “It is probably because she has been under too much strain.”

“Has she seen a doctor?”

“Miss cannot even get out the gate,” Murong said from the side. “How could she possibly see a doctor?”

Shi Guang’s brow furrowed. “I will have someone fetch a doctor right now.”

“There is no need,” Yan Qing said. She had mostly recovered by now, and hearing Shi Guang’s words, she immediately refused. “It is nothing serious. I do not need medicine either. A sip of hot water will be enough.”

“Looking at how pale you are, a sip of hot water is clearly not going to fix this.” Shi Guang’s gaze settled on her visibly ashen face. “I will go get a doctor.”

“I said there is no need.” Yan Qing was resolute. “I know my own body. I am a doctor myself — the Second Young Master need not worry on my behalf.”

“You are always this stubborn. You are a forensic physician, not a physician in the traditional sense — for some illnesses, you still need a proper doctor.”

Shi Guang said no more, and ignoring Yan Qing’s objections, strode out of the courtyard with large steps. When he passed Squad Leader An, he tossed the fish directly at him. Squad Leader An scrambled to catch it in a flurry of arms.

“Miss, what are we going to do?” Jing Zhi said anxiously. “If the Second Young Master really does bring a doctor, the doctor will certainly discover that you are pregnant. He absolutely cannot find out about this.”

Yan Qing pressed her fingers to her temples. She too felt a deep headache coming on.

Shi Guang was jealous by nature and harbored tremendous resentment toward Shi Ting. As for her — he had something close to a pathological obsession with her.

He may not truly love her. What he felt toward her was more likely the kind of twisted fixation that arises from wanting what one cannot have.

And just how far that twisted obsession had gone, no one could say.

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