In Huachao Pavilion, a small tripod on the long table brewed spring water while thin wisps of clear smoke rose. Through the window lattice, approaching footsteps cast slender shadows.

The man on the couch lazily crossed his legs, using a vermillion brush to mark the account books in his hands. Though his posture was improper, no one could call him even half rude. With a nose like a hanging gall and eyes like colored glaze, he resembled an unrestrained banished immortal.

His brush tip moved up and down, dealing with transactions worth tens of thousands of taels. Hearing movement, he looked up at the approaching person.

Chang Yan entered the door cautiously: “Master.”

Zhang Yuehui lifted his chin toward the guard beside him. Luo Ci immediately understood and went to stand guard outside the door.

“Xie Zhu has awakened?”

“His body is severely weakened. He woke once midway but his mind wasn’t clear—couldn’t get anything useful from him. However, Xie Sixth Miss came by just now.”

“She certainly visits frequently, not afraid of being discovered.”

“She brought a scroll, saying she wanted Xie Zhu to write some Hundred-Person Buddhist Scripture. This subordinate didn’t notice anything unusual.”

Chang Yan handed over the scroll.

Zhang Yuehui unrolled it and scanned it back and forth several times. The scroll was very long with varied handwriting.

The water in the small tripod began boiling, steam rattling the lid with gurgling sounds. Zhang Yuehui ignored it, his expression growing somewhat serious: “This doesn’t seem like an idea Xie Sixth Miss could come up with.”

Chang Yan was puzzled: “Master, what’s the significance here?”

“On the surface, this Buddhist scripture should be to comfort that old lady of the Xie family, but if the person doing this has ulterior motives, she could use this opportunity to collect handwriting samples from everyone at Wangxue Stronghold.”

Chang Yan was shocked: “Then shouldn’t we refuse to return this Buddhist scripture?”

“If we don’t return it, your identity will be exposed.” Zhang Yuehui methodically rolled up the scroll and handed it back to Chang Yan. “Do as Xie Sixth Miss says, don’t tamper with it. Follow the vine to find the melon—let’s see what they’re really planning.”

“This subordinate also heard from the Qi soldiers guarding Wangxue Stronghold that this matter was organized by Xie Sixth Miss and that new widow who came to the Xie family.”

Zhang Yuehui raised an eyebrow: “The Qin woman?”

“Exactly. However, we investigated before—the Qin family background is clean. This Qin woman is an illegitimate daughter, supposedly raised on the streets. Her conduct is somewhat improper, and she’s a dispensable person in the Xie family. This subordinate also inquired with General Gusha—that woman appears submissive and timid, lacking courage, just an ordinary woman.”

“Still need to watch carefully—” Zhang Yuehui picked up the water pot and poured water into the tea cup. “Anyone who can stir things up in the Xie family’s murky waters is not simple. The more unlikely the person, the more vigilant we must be.”

“Yes. Master, there’s one more thing.” Chang Yan hesitated before continuing. “This subordinate accidentally spotted a familiar person from the capital who had fled here, on the streets of Li Du Mansion…”

“Who?” Zhang Yuehui grew curious.

“Song Muchuan. This subordinate thought that since he comes from an artisan family and once served in the Ministry of Works, being skilled in architecture and shipbuilding, having participated in supervising the construction of the ‘Wengyao’ dragon-bone ships, he might be able to resolve Lord Wanyan’s current predicament.”

Zhang Yuehui let out a derisive laugh and shook his head: “He’s been away from officialdom for six years—he’s long since become useless. I heard that Shen Zhizhong sent him several secret letters hoping he’d return to serve the court, all of which sank without trace. When a person’s heart is dead, no amount of talent can save him.”

“Master means we can’t win him over?”

“This Song Seventh Young Master is truly an immortal who descended to experience tribulation—he’s too pure.” Zhang Yuehui’s lips curved in a smile, though his tone wasn’t mocking and even held a trace of admiration. “How can this world allow such a pure person to exist? I’m afraid his time is running short.”

The room fell silent for a moment.

As if recalling some past events, Zhang Yuehui didn’t speak for a while, then finally looked up, having changed the subject.

“The person I asked you to investigate—any leads?”

“The person Master is looking for…” Chang Yan’s face showed a trace of hesitation. “Someone said they saw such a girl at Quling River crossing, but apparently she encountered a squad of Qi soldiers… No one has seen her since.”

“Keep searching.”

He commanded without a moment’s hesitation, the composure in his brow and eyes vanishing.

Chang Yan dared not argue further. In her speculation, how could a girl escape the Qi people’s brutality? She must be dead. But she rarely saw her master, who cared little about anything, show such an expression. If he said search, then they must search until they found the body.

At this moment, Nanyi was wandering the streets.

She had left the mansion with Xie Xiaoliu. Xie Xiaoliu used the excuse of purchasing New Year goods to go to Huachao Pavilion to deliver the Buddhist scripture for Xie Zhu to inscribe, while Nanyi found a pretext to separate from Xie Sui’an and secretly went to the marketplace pawnshops.

She had gathered the jewelry and rewards she’d accumulated during this period, plus the inkstone Qiu Jie’er had given her, planning to exchange everything for gold and silver to carry with her and escape at the first opportunity.

Other shops had poor business, but the pawnshop was bustling with customers. Families scraped together the last valuable items from their homes, sending them to the pawnshop in a steady stream, exchanging them for a little money to buy food.

Naturally, the pawnshop’s pricing became increasingly outrageous.

The jewelry Nanyi brought only fetched thirty taels of silver total. However, that inkstone—its quality was indeed exceptional. The pawnshop’s appraiser fondled it repeatedly with obvious affection, but finally shook his head with regret.

“This inkstone is top-grade goods from Plum Blossom Pit, likely imperial tribute material, extremely rare. If not for the characters carved on the surface, I could offer fifty taels.”

If the pawnshop was willing to offer fifty taels now, the inkstone was probably worth at least two to three hundred taels.

Nanyi was confused: “Why does having carved characters make it less valuable?”

“This was personally carved by your younger sister-in-law, wasn’t it? Look, the carving technique for these characters matches that of the lotus patterns—they’re from the same hand.” The appraiser handed back the inkstone, pointing to the characters on its surface.

Two lines of elegant, delicate characters were carved on the inkstone’s surface. Nanyi couldn’t read them and hadn’t paid much attention before.

“What does it say?”

“‘Wishing elder sister-in-law peace, joy, and longevity,'” the appraiser sighed regretfully again. “So you see, this becomes hard to resell. Who would want to pay a high price for something that was a personal gift to someone else?”

Nanyi was stunned.

In all her years of life, she had never received such a blessing. Peace and joy, longevity—each phrase represented the most beautiful things in the world.

She had saved Qiu Jie’er’s father. Qiu Jie’er wanted to thank her but didn’t know what to give, and was too shy to ask directly. She secretly observed Nanyi, noticed she seemed to be practicing calligraphy, and spent several days carving a precious inkstone for her, inscribing her most sincere blessings.

“Madam, are you still pawning this inkstone?” Seeing the lady before him lost in thought, the appraiser asked again.

Nanyi took back the inkstone: “I’m not pawning it anymore.”

Even though Nanyi had steeled her heart to cut all ties with everything related to the noble family, she couldn’t bear to sell this inkstone cheaply.

Just as she was about to leave the pawnshop, Nanyi heard two clerks chatting at another counter.

“Right, that scholar lives in Jiangyue Ward, seems to be surnamed Song…”

This sounded familiar. Nanyi stopped walking and looked in their direction.

The clerks were examining a flawless, sky-blue Ru kiln porcelain cup.

“When he came to pawn this cup, he didn’t mention its origin. We just assumed it was an imperial Ru kiln cup from the palace. Turns out he was the top scholar from years ago. After passing the imperial examination, at the Deer Cry Banquet, the emperor appreciated him and specially bestowed this porcelain cup, having him drink wine from it—tsk, what glory that was.”

“If he had said this was the Scholar’s Cup, the pawn value would have doubled immediately. He didn’t mention it?”

“Scholars are thin-skinned—how would they haggle? To pawn such a precious item, the scholar must have fled all the way here and is truly destitute, unable even to afford food.”

“Then why not seek out the Xie family? Such a great clan would surely help him.”

“Probably too proud?”

“This person is strange though. So concerned with face, yet he stole a bag of rice and was caught red-handed… tsk tsk tsk.”

Nanyi stood by the door listening for quite a while, finally understanding the full story. They were discussing Song Yushu, whom she had encountered by chance.

Song Yushu had once been the incomparably prominent top scholar. Recently he had wandered to Li Du Mansion, so destitute he squeezed into a broken thatched hut with several poor scholars.

With an uncertain future and nowhere to go, despite his vast learning, he was trapped by immediate survival needs. He had pawned everything he could, with almost no travel money left. Unable even to afford a meal, he was driven to desperation and risked stealing a bag of rice from a shop, only to be caught in the act.

Originally, no one in the city cared about a poor scholar, but because of the theft, stories about him spread like wildfire.

Most of the gossip consisted of criticism and insults—how could a scholar steal? Even if he starved to death, he shouldn’t accept charity, much less commit petty theft. This top scholar truly had no backbone to speak of.

Thinking of her brief encounter with Song Yushu—that scholar who minded even his own disheveled appearance—Nanyi felt somewhat melancholy.

She returned to the street, hesitating whether to visit Jiangyue Ward to see the scholar, when she heard cries of alarm from the riverside nearby.

“Someone jumped into the river!”