When Nanyi left, Hu Ruhai said “Take care, Madam,” his attitude already markedly different from when they first met. He gave her a solemn and proper gentleman’s bow, personally escorting her to the door.

Returning to the hostel, Nanyi found someone had been waiting for her for quite some time.

Upon seeing her, Qiu Jie’er’s eyes immediately reddened. She called out “Sister-in-law” and threw her arms around her, sobbing uncontrollably. Nanyi recalled seeing Qiu Jie’er’s family off from Li Du Mansion on the Lantern Festival—it had been over four months since their parting. Though not long, seeing each other again felt like a lifetime had passed, with everything changed but the people. Thinking of this, Nanyi couldn’t help but feel overcome with grief, and the two embraced and wept bitterly.

After finally collecting their emotions, Nanyi moved to help Qiu Jie’er sit down, but Qiu Jie’er suddenly dropped to her knees before her with a thud.

“Sister-in-law, I’m sorry…”

Nanyi was startled: “Qiu Jie’er?”

“It was my father. He betrayed the Xie family, betrayed the court… He is Daman.”

This horrifying information left Nanyi stunned in place, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.

From Qiu Jie’er’s words, Nanyi learned many things that had been concealed before.

Besides Xie Zhu, many others in the court had long ago defected to Qi. The siege of Li Du Mansion was made so complex precisely because these people were stirring up trouble behind the scenes. Now all the other traitors had been captured, with only Xie Zhu having fled north, heartlessly leaving his family behind in Jinling.

“Did he also know about Chao’en’s death?” Nanyi asked bitterly.

Qiu Jie’er nodded through her streaming tears.

That was Xie Queshan’s third uncle, a father-like figure in his life. At that time, to save his third uncle and send him to Jinling, he had paid an enormous price. Precisely because of this, later when everyone was speculating about who Daman was, not a single person suspected Xie Zhu.

What was even more shocking to Nanyi was that this was also her first mission. Something so important to her had merely been completely manipulated by Xie Zhu. She thought she had saved scholarly integrity; she had once looked up at that straight backbone and learned what righteousness meant by following his example.

Could all of this be an act? Had his plan already begun back then?

Just how evil could human hearts be?

Nanyi sat down dejectedly, filled with regret. She should have made some error in that mission, let Xie Zhu die, let him expose himself—would the current outcome be different?

Suddenly, she thought of something: “Did the traitors confess anything related to Chao’en?”

At this point, Qiu Jie’er nodded with a complex expression, but showed no joy on her face.

Nanyi knew there were still complications.

Among the traitors, some couldn’t withstand torture and confessed. Their testimonies all mentioned how they had fanned the flames regarding Li Du Mansion and how they had framed Xie Queshan. But after hesitation, His Majesty chose to seal these confessions. The reason was simple—once this matter became public, while Xie Queshan could be cleared, Xie Zhu’s actions couldn’t be concealed either, and the entire Xie family would be in danger.

Xie Queshan’s case didn’t implicate the Xie family because years ago, the family had clearly drawn boundaries with him, and at that time Shen Zhizhong had worked to preserve them. The Grand Emperor had agreed not to implicate the Xie clan members. But Xie Zhu and Xie Jun hadn’t even divided their household—in everyone’s eyes, he was closely connected to the Xie family. When that time came, His Majesty would find it hard to find justification to protect the Xie clan.

Although Nanyi was obsessed with clearing Xie Queshan’s name, faced with such a choice, she wouldn’t put the Xie family in danger either. The most helpless thing was this—clearly knowing who the criminal was, clearly knowing which path would certainly work, yet under various considerations, one could only remain silent.

Her thoughts were shrouded in bleak gray haze. Nanyi felt that the deeper she went, the more the enemy’s swords and spears disappeared, leaving only unpredictable hidden arrows and taboos everywhere.

The successive blows left her speechless for a long time. She didn’t know what else she could do—she had clearly just started the journey, yet already felt she couldn’t see the end.

Qiu Jie’er’s eyes were red and swollen as she blamed herself: “If I had discovered father’s abnormality earlier, it wouldn’t have been too late…”

The rest of her words were choked with sobs.

If it had been a few days earlier, if the turning point for Li Du Mansion had come first, Xie Queshan wouldn’t have been driven to death.

But what was the point of talking about these “ifs” now?

The two sat in silence facing each other, helpless. The only fortunate thing in their misfortune was that they now had plenty of time to waste.

Waiting—was there only waiting?

Outside the window, the vague sounds of boiling commotion came through. Through several layers of doors and windows, it was as distant as wind at a cliff’s edge. Gradually, the wind seemed to blow closer, the sounds outside grew louder, and suddenly someone banged on the door.

A servant from the hostel shouted: “Ladies, quickly go see what’s happening at the palace gate!”

Nanyi and Qiu Jie’er looked at each other and hurried outside.

Crowds had already gathered at the palace gate but were blocked by the imperial guards.

From the discussions, Nanyi and Qiu Jie’er learned that Hu Ruhai had removed his hat and official robes, walking from the palace gate to outside the Taiji Hall with three kowtows for each step.

He cried out all the way—”This minister has wronged a loyal subject, deceived His Majesty! This minister is guilty! This minister wishes ten thousand deaths, begging His Majesty to re-examine Xie Queshan’s case!”

Hu Ruhai’s voice grew more distant, almost inaudible under the noisy crowd’s clamor. Suddenly, the crowd at the front let out a cry of shock, the wave of sound finally reaching Nanyi’s ears.

“Minister Hu has struck a pillar and killed himself!”

Nanyi suddenly gripped Qiu Jie’er’s hand. She should be glad—she had thought Minister Hu could only sigh with regret for Xie Queshan and do nothing else. She never expected that to make up for his mistake and set things right, he would have such determination to die for his convictions. Such a magnificent death remonstrance should shake both court and people, shouldn’t it?

But she couldn’t feel happy at all. The wound in her heart was torn wider, with wind rushing in.

Those firework-like lives, cruel yet brilliant, lighting her path forward.

No matter how terrible this world was, there were always people who stepped forward one after another, without looking back, just to preserve a share of loyalty and righteousness.

Minister Hu was dead.

When death was only for expression, it finally had the power to shock.

From this point, public sentiment rose even higher. Daily petitioners were numerous, demanding the court thoroughly investigate Xie Queshan’s case and give the world an explanation. This seemed both absurd and reasonable—overnight, the direction of public opinion changed. After his death, people began to love and respect him again.

Three days later, the imperial edict finally came. This case would reopen its files and be transferred to the Three Bureaus for joint trial.

Everything was finally on the right track, but this was far from enough.

In the public court, words alone carried no weight.

If the Bingzhu Bureau had kept even half a page of files about Xie Queshan, this matter wouldn’t be so difficult. But “Goose’s” identity was top secret, and Shen Zhizhong had left no records about him.

Until Xu Kouyue came to tell Nanyi about some possible clues: “After Zhang Zhicun escaped back from Bianjing, he had a private conversation with Minister Shen. Minister Shen was also his teacher and had told him he would write about his and Xie Queshan’s deeds in a memorial to present to the court, requesting merit for them. This was the first time Zhang Zhicun learned of Xie Queshan’s identity. But afterward, we sent people to search Minister Shen’s home from top to bottom and couldn’t find that memorial… Some files from the Bingzhu Bureau also vanished without a trace.”

Nanyi’s heart leaped—she vaguely heard some hope. A memorial in Shen Zhizhong’s own hand would be the most powerful physical evidence! As long as they could obtain this thing, Xie Queshan’s injustice would be self-evident.

Qiu Jie’er remembered that when she saw her father for the last time, he was carrying a bundle. The contents had edges and corners, not like clothing or valuables, but rather like books and documents.

“Minister Shen was poisoned by father. If this memorial still exists in the world, he must have taken it…” Qiu Jie’er reasoned.

But Xie Zhu was now in Bianjing. His whereabouts were very secretive—after entering the city, there had been no further news. He was probably under strict protection by Wanyan Puruuo.

Go to Bianjing to find Xie Zhu.

Nanyi immediately made the decision.

Xu Kouyue was startled: “No! You can’t take any more risks! I’ll have His Majesty send suitable spies to complete this mission. You should stay in Jinling with us to wait for news.”

“Tasks others can complete, I can too. But in this world, no one has greater determination than I do.”

Nanyi didn’t want to sit and wait idly. She couldn’t accept waiting only to receive news of mission failure. She wasn’t someone who made rash decisions. The Qi people had occupied Bianjing for less than a year, with tight security everywhere and heavy military guards throughout. But as an unfamiliar face, she could more easily blend in.

There was also a trace of perhaps desperate, reckless madness from having no way back.

Xu Kouyue realized she couldn’t stop Nanyi.

“Must you go?” she murmured.

Privately, she feared losing any more old friends.

Nanyi knew what Xu Kouyue feared, and this kind of care had continuously given her strength after Xie Queshan’s death. She inexplicably softened, tears welling up in her eyes again.

“I’m not going to my death,” she said through gritted teeth with determination.

Qiu Jie’er had been silent throughout, but after hearing her make such a resolute decision, she suddenly spoke: “I’ll go with you.”

Nanyi understood Qiu Jie’er’s meaning. She was Xie Zhu’s only daughter—at the crucial moment, this identity might serve some purpose.

Unable to refuse on the surface, she agreed but didn’t actually plan to bring Qiu Jie’er along. After all, Qiu Jie’er was a sheltered woman who had never traveled far. Taking her deep into enemy territory would be too risky.

But when Nanyi tried to sneak away in the dead of night, she found Qiu Jie’er huddled by the stable with her bundle, dozing lightly. Hearing movement, she immediately awakened.

She didn’t expose Nanyi’s intention to leave her behind, but simply said in her usual gentle voice: “Sister-in-law, let’s set out.”

Nanyi felt like crying again. She seemed to have become extremely prone to tears.

She knew Qiu Jie’er’s feelings were the same as hers—even if the path ahead was a mountain of swords and sea of fire, even if they had only insignificant strength, they still had to set out to fight for that slim hope. Nanyi could no longer ignore this pure heart. She couldn’t abandon her; she could only secretly resolve to protect Qiu Jie’er well.

The journey was exhausting. Qiu Jie’er, who rarely ventured out, indeed couldn’t bear it. On the first day after dismounting, she rushed into the woods to vomit even her bile.

But coming out of the forest, though her face was deathly pale, she stubbornly insisted she was fine and refused to stop for more rest, afraid of burdening Nanyi.

Qiu Jie’er’s character was vastly different from the other Xie family members, but that stubbornness was inherited all the same. In a trance, she saw Xiaoliu’s shadow in her, even Xie Queshan’s shadow.

During the tedious journey, Nanyi often felt dazed, as if she could bring Xie Queshan back just by running hard enough toward her goal.

She slept less and less.

She didn’t dream either. She didn’t know why Xie Queshan wouldn’t even appear in her dreams.

Was he so disappointed in this world that he crossed the Bridge of Oblivion without looking back?

But she so wanted to see him again.

When she sat silent and lost in thought, Qiu Jie’er would sit beside her with a small blanket. Qiu Jie’er wasn’t talkative—most of the time, they were simply quiet.

One evening, heavy rain began falling, forcing them to set up a tent and rest in the wilderness.

Looking at the seemingly endless rain, Qiu Jie’er suddenly asked: “Sister-in-law, why did you choose this path?”

Nanyi answered without thinking: “This path is shorter and more concealed.”

Qiu Jie’er didn’t correct Nanyi’s misunderstanding but continued speaking to herself: “I don’t mean that Chao’en brother’s posthumous reputation isn’t important. Actually, even if you didn’t do this, Minister Song, the Yucheng Army, Princess, even His Majesty… someday they would find an opportunity to do this thing.”

Nanyi silently pillowed her head on the hard rock, gazing at the profound night sky. The dense raindrops were silver.

Why indeed?

After a long time, so long that Qiu Jie’er thought Nanyi had fallen asleep, she finally heard her murmuring response.

“I’m just thinking… how can I tell the world that all the bones and blood and courage in my body are his gifts to me.”