On this night of sitting and waiting for death, the moonlight was cold as ice crystals, casting a pale and desolate white over the eaves and tile roofs.

Nanyi felt extreme unease rising in her heart. This anxiety came from Song Muchuan’s uncertain fate, and also from Xie Queshan’s abnormal behavior.

The unease made her tremble uncontrollably as she paced back and forth in the room.

She didn’t know whether to trust her intuition or what Xie Queshan had shown her. They had clearly agreed not to lie to each other. She always felt that Xie Queshan was about to abandon her—perhaps the abandonment of seeking survival, or perhaps the sacrifice of seeking death.

Madam Gantang sighed and looked toward Tang Rong.

“Tang Rong, help her. This place can’t contain her.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Tang Rong would always follow her words.

The strategy was simple. Tang Rong drew his sword and charged out directly, presenting a do-or-die attitude. These guards hadn’t expected the people inside to resist so fiercely, and they scrambled to respond, but still managed to force Tang Rong back and added three more locks to the courtyard gate.

Nanyi took advantage of the chaos to climb over the courtyard wall and escape.

She didn’t go elsewhere. She knew that if her actions were reckless, they would cause bigger trouble. Outside, the Bingzhu Division still had Liangda and Ninth Lady looking after things, presumably acting quickly to transfer obvious items and ensure minimal losses.

Within the Bingzhu Division system, she wasn’t yet skilled enough to be useful there. Her advantage was being inconspicuous and clever enough, and her goal was clear. She stayed in Wangxue Wu for Xie Queshan’s sake. She didn’t believe he would truly stand by and watch. She had said that if he wasn’t a traitor, she would become his companion. Even if she was blind and misjudged him, she could at least gather some information from him—anything was better than waiting helplessly.

She silently slipped into Xie Queshan’s room and hid in the wardrobe.

Xie Queshan had just changed into night clothes preparing to go out. His steps reached the doorway when his gaze inadvertently fell on the flowers by the low wall in the courtyard, and he suddenly paused.

Through the crack in the wardrobe, Nanyi watched nervously. She had tried her best not to make any sound—had Xie Queshan still noticed her?

But Xie Queshan didn’t turn around. He just stood there, his silhouette appearing lonely.

The spring flowers hadn’t yet withered, still blooming luxuriantly. Even in such a tense state of mind, he couldn’t help but stop to look a bit longer.

Just looking from afar like this was enough. He was grateful he hadn’t entangled himself too deeply with her. In the past, he had been immersed in such tender moments, almost forgetting the role he should play. He should be either a villain or a dead man.

What right did he have to speak of spring flowers and autumn moons?

Now it was good—cutting away everything in one clean stroke, neat and efficient.

Xie Queshan’s ears suddenly moved, as if he heard some sound. His brow furrowed, and he immediately turned back to the room, quickly stripping off his clothes.

He hastily kicked the night clothes under the bed to hide them, just as knocking came from outside. Xie Queshan, wearing only a plain undergarment, opened the door with a yawn.

“General Gusha?”

Looking out, the courtyard was crowded with soldiers. Xie Queshan became somewhat alert, asking strangely: “Such a grand formation—what’s this about?”

Gusha pushed directly into the room, looking Xie Queshan over once, his domineering attitude completely unconcealed.

“You went to bed so early?”

Xie Queshan showed some anger: “What, do I need to report this to you too?”

Gusha pretended to be intimate, putting his arm around Xie Queshan’s shoulders and leaning over to whisper mysteriously: “What kind of talk is that? I have an urgent matter and need the young master’s help, so I’m disturbing you late at night.”

Xie Queshan crossed his arms, somewhat impatiently: “I’m honored, but—I’m insignificant, how could I help you?”

Xie Queshan knew clearly that his pretense could no longer be maintained.

Ask for his help? Ridiculous.

With so many soldiers, they were here to drag him directly to the execution ground.

The fatal thing was that Gusha had come too quickly. He still didn’t know what had happened at the Shipping Bureau, what Song Muchuan’s situation was—he hadn’t had time to act and was already in an extremely passive position.

“We caught a big shot from the Bingzhu Division at the Shipping Bureau—and this person insists that you must personally interrogate him.”

The playful smile had quietly faded from Gusha’s face, containing some forcefulness.

Today he would take Xie Queshan away even if he had to drag him.

He wanted to keep a close eye on Xie Queshan, not letting him make any small moves. He wanted to uproot all these troublemaking spies and undercover agents completely, so that Li Du Mansion would never again have mosquitoes, flies, snakes, or rats.

Xie Queshan knew he couldn’t escape. Further evasion would seem suspicious, so he only said: “At least let me change into proper clothes for going out.”

Looking around the room and seeing no one, Gusha made a gesture of invitation.

Hidden in the wardrobe, Nanyi eavesdropped with a frightened heart—why did Gusha want to take Xie Queshan away? What exactly had he discovered at the Shipping Bureau? Was Xie Queshan also unable to protect himself?

Xie Queshan returned to the inner room and closed the door. He knew this was just a useless delaying tactic. Once he stepped out this door, his life and death would be beyond his control. Today he had already risked everything. Since Gusha had come to invite him, it actually revealed one thing—he still didn’t have solid evidence that Song Muchuan was the Bingzhu Division leader.

No matter what, he had to pave the way for Song Muchuan.

A gentleman adjusts his clothing properly. This might be his last garment before death, so it should be worn well.

Xie Queshan opened the wardrobe, his gaze suddenly shaking.

Nanyi had tried her best to shrink into the pile of clothes, letting shadows cover her, but such a large person could be spotted with a closer look.

Discovered was discovered. Nanyi panicked for only a moment before becoming calm, her large, clear eyes staring straight at Xie Queshan.

He indeed hadn’t noticed when she had come in.

Seeing her at such a silently tragic moment, his heart was filled with mixed emotions—some relief, followed by infinite melancholy.

Heaven still had mercy on him. Though this mercy was only a tiny bit, giving him just a moment’s comfort. He looked at her quietly—those eyebrows and eyes, that face—he had looked countless times yet still felt it wasn’t enough. He was like a prisoner about to die, greedily capturing the beauty of the world he saw in the moment before execution, as if only this way could he endure the road to the underworld, resist the soup of oblivion, and leave behind something imperishable.

But all immortality in this world was merely human delusion and vain hope.

Xie Queshan did nothing, withdrew his gaze, took his clothes, and silently closed the cabinet door.

Just as he turned to leave, his trouser leg was tightly grasped by a hand.

The cabinet door opened again. Nanyi looked at Xie Queshan stubbornly, saying in an extremely low voice: “Tell me what I should do.”

Her voice was so soft it was like a bubble just reaching the water’s surface, disappearing with a pop as if it had never existed.

He found it amusing. Wasn’t she supposed to be someone very tactful, very aware of advantages and disadvantages? He clearly stood on her opposing side, clearly spoke so directly, yet she still came to ask him what to do?

Gusha was right outside. He only needed to make a sound and she would be finished. Did she trust him this much?

Yes, she was still trusting him. Nothing struck the heart more directly than this unconditional trust.

Through stormy waves, she insisted on crossing together with him.

He could clearly withdraw his steps, but his soul was held fast.

He couldn’t help but look back at her. He was a bit dazed—she seemed still to be that little thief in the snow choosing between life and death, her eyes filled with an unyielding, surging determination, wanting to force open a path to life in the dead end he had drawn.

This infected him too, making him spontaneously develop a trace of hope and longing.

Fine, if she insisted on coming, then he would point out a path for her.

Xie Queshan steeled his heart, quickly grabbed the brush from the table, wrote a line of small script on paper, then crouched down and crumpled the note into a ball, stuffing it into Nanyi’s hand.

“Go find Zhang Yuehui and show him this.”

Xie Queshan thought this was enough, but Nanyi still didn’t let go of him.

She wanted to speak but feared being heard outside, so she anxiously put her arm around his neck, pulling his face closer.

Candlelight filtered through the gauze, dimly falling on their faces. At this distance, neither could escape—they had to look at each other honestly.

Nanyi asked seriously: “Tell me, are you going to save Song Muchuan?”

Xie Queshan frowned, unwilling to answer, determined to leave.

But Nanyi was being stubborn and simply wouldn’t let go. She insisted he answer—she felt this was important, as important as what she was going to do.

“You must tell me the truth before I can go do it.”

He had always been like this before, keeping his intentions hidden in his heart, unwilling to speak them. If she guessed correctly, he wouldn’t resist and even felt somewhat pleased.

She thought he was very awkward. Actually, there was no need to be so awkward. She could become the person he trusted.

Books said that the greatest sound is silence, the greatest form is formless, but she was just a common person who couldn’t understand such great, selfless realms. She just wanted his definite words, wanted to hear the kindness he spoke aloud.

He had walked so many roads alone, illuminating so many people’s dark nights, but as a human being, why should he sacrifice more than others? If no one knew what he had done, it wasn’t fair. She wanted to be the person in this world who saw him.

They had clearly agreed not to lie to each other.

She would just keep asking, asking until he was honest.

Xie Queshan finally couldn’t persist against Nanyi. Meeting her eyes, he was already retreating step by step. Earlier at Second Sister’s place, he could still righteously conceal his intentions, but now she pressed so closely.

He spoke it out, and something heavy in his heart seemed to be unloaded with it.

“Yes, I’m going to save Song Muchuan.”

He didn’t have to go to his death alone. In this world, there was still one person who knew what he was going to do. Even if he died, someone would know why he died.

Humans were creatures who found it easy to go from frugality to luxury but hard to go from luxury back to frugality. Before she appeared, he felt such understanding was even a burden, but after she appeared, he melted and reshaped, unknowingly gaining a part inseparable from her. He couldn’t be without this part.

The stern face he had worn all evening relaxed. Xie Queshan suddenly smiled and rubbed Nanyi’s cheek.

For some reason, this gesture made tears suddenly well up in Nanyi’s eyes. She could no longer hold him back; she could only watch him quickly put on his clothes.

She opened her mouth and before he turned around, urgently mouthed three words—”Don’t die.”

No sound, only lip movements.

And he didn’t respond, only left. After the chaotic footsteps outside completely departed, Nanyi crawled out of the wardrobe. She looked at the note in her hand, which read “Fish that slipped through the net.” She didn’t understand what this meant, nor why finding Zhang Yuehui would be useful. But this was what Xie Queshan had told her to do, so she immediately felt at ease.

She felt that everything he did had backup plans and strategies—he was omnipotent.

But she didn’t know that the path Xie Queshan had pointed out for her actually had very little certainty. Knowing she wouldn’t give up and wouldn’t be content to sit and wait for death, he sent her to Zhang Yuehui. Regardless of whether Zhang Yuehui was willing to help him with this favor, at least Nanyi would be safe.