The guests had all left, but the Xie family’s spring banquet wasn’t yet over. Without the family head’s word, how could the women dare disperse? They sat restlessly, waiting and whispering among themselves.

And now Xie Queshan actually began eating. Earlier he had only focused on drinking wine, barely touching the delicacies on the table. He ate elegantly, unhurried, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. No one could read any hint from his expression.

The dishes at everyone else’s tables remained almost untouched—after such a shocking incident, who had the appetite to eat?

Only the plates at Nanyi’s table were empty. For her, nothing in heaven or earth was more important than eating. Scanning everyone’s meal settings, Nanyi sighed inwardly.

What a waste.

“Second Sister,” Xie Queshan set down his chopsticks and dabbed at the corner of his mouth, “send someone to pay respects to Father as well.”

Madam Gantang had naturally prepared New Year’s treats for the Buddhist hall in the back mountain, but that area was guarded by Xie Queshan’s personal soldiers. Without his permission, she couldn’t send anything in. In the earlier chaos, she had forgotten to ask.

She hadn’t expected Xie Queshan to bring it up himself.

Madam Gantang glanced at Xie Sui’an: “Xiaoliu, you deliver the New Year’s treats and pay your respects to Father while you’re at it.”

Xie Sui’an was stunned, looking at Madam Gantang with suspicion and disbelief.

Madam Gantang simply nodded gently at her.

This small interaction between them caught Nanyi’s eye, and she found it strange.

Did the Buddhist hall in the back mountain hide some secret?

Xie Sui’an entered the Buddhist hall in the back mountain alone, carrying the treat box.

The place was heavily guarded by mansion soldiers, where Duke Changning was under house arrest. It was only because of the New Year that Xie Queshan had relaxed his rules and allowed outsiders to enter. Normally, only servants delivering food supplies could come and go.

But Xie Sui’an’s expression was particularly tense, her steps unconsciously quickening. Because only she knew who was really hidden in the Buddhist hall in the back mountain.

She walked forward anxiously, wondering why Second Sister had suddenly assigned this task to her.

Xie Sui’an hastily glanced at the stacked food boxes she carried. The amount of treats prepared here was considerable—far more than needed for one person. Second Sister must have discovered something.

But Second Sister clearly had never been to the back mountain. How had she found out? Xie Sui’an stared at the food box in her hands, vaguely finding a thread of reasoning—Father was a Buddhist who ate vegetarian year-round, but Prince Ling’an wasn’t a lay practitioner, so the food supplies sent in would secretly include meat and fish. The Buddhist hall’s supplies were prepared separately from the front courtyard’s. Compared to the entire Xie household’s daily needs, no one would pay attention to these minor provisions for the Buddhist hall.

But Second Sister was meticulous, and after returning home, she had taken charge of the household’s rear courtyard affairs. She might have noticed clues from these minor details in the food supplies. Fortunately it was Second Sister—if Xie Queshan had discovered… she didn’t dare think about it.

The Buddhist hall was a small two-courtyard compound. The front housed golden Buddha statues. Even though Xie Sui’an didn’t usually believe in such things, she properly paid her respects before lifting the curtain to enter the rear courtyard.

Xie Jun stood in the back courtyard, unsurprised to see Xie Sui’an.

“Father, Happy New Year.”

“Go inside.” Xie Jun nodded at Xie Sui’an.

Standing before the door, at the moment she was about to push it open, Xie Sui’an felt momentarily dazed. She had been working for the person inside but had never seen him, not knowing his temperament or appearance.

“Your servant of the Xie clan pays respects to Your Highness. May Your Highness enjoy good fortune, longevity, and a prosperous New Year.”

Prince Ling’an, Xu Zhou, was hidden right under the Qi people’s noses—in the Buddhist hall where Xie Jun was under house arrest.

Xie Jun hadn’t originally been involved in the Bingzhu Bureau’s affairs. He only discovered Prince Ling’an here after arriving at the Buddhist hall. As a loyal minister, he would naturally help conceal him without hesitation.

It was fortunate that Xie Queshan had ordered Xie Jun’s house arrest here. This unintentional move had instead, by happy accident, made the back mountain Buddhist hall a safer place hidden in plain sight. Daily deliveries of clothing and food now had proper justification. The Qi soldiers watched the front residence like hawks but forgot there could be fish that slipped through the net in the back mountain.

“Sixth Miss, no need for such formality. Please rise and speak.”

Xie Sui’an looked up at Xu Zhou. This was her first time seeing this young prince.

Even with her usual carelessness, she knew that in all matters concerning Prince Ling’an, extreme caution was required. When the task of receiving Prince Ling’an was assigned, she was responsible for transmitting messages and sending signals, while the close protection was handled by death-sworn warriors personally selected by Xie Hengzai. After he entered the back mountain Buddhist hall, these warriors had been guarding here continuously.

Afraid that her movements were being watched, Xie Sui’an had never dared approach this place.

Only today, using the New Year as an excuse, could she finally pay respects to this future new emperor and discuss future arrangements with him.

Before this, Prince Ling’an had been mentioned repeatedly by everyone. He was more like a symbol, a banner. What kind of person he was, what he looked like didn’t matter—what mattered was that royal blood flowed in his veins, making him the dynasty’s sole remaining hope. Even though previously he had been an unfavored prince, precisely because he was so unfavored and exiled to his fief, he had escaped disaster.

Then he was suddenly elevated to a precarious high position. Everyone believed he should be unyielding, should turn misfortune to fortune, should have nerves of steel. But everyone forgot—he was merely a young man not yet twenty.

At this moment, his image became clear in Xie Sui’an’s eyes for the first time.

Long-term fear and anxiety had made him appear somewhat frail and pale. He wasn’t fierce, but his eyes showed wariness toward everything.

However, the way he looked at Xie Sui’an was gentle.

Before entering, Xie Sui’an had been very nervous, worried about saying the wrong thing or doing something that might displease this new emperor. But after seeing Xu Zhou, her anxiety disappeared.

Xie Sui’an warmly opened the food boxes she had brought.

“Your Highness, Father usually practices Buddhism, so the food sent in had to be disguised, making it rather simple. Today I specially selected some pastries and sweets to give Your Highness a change of taste.”

“Thank you, Sixth Miss.”

Xu Zhou simply tried a little of everything, unable to suppress his youthful curiosity as he looked up at Xie Sui’an: “Is there a spring banquet being held today? I faintly heard musical instruments from the front.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Xu Zhou immediately became lost in thought, somewhat envious: “How wonderful, how lively.”

“Today… Princess Lingfu also came.” After hesitating, Xie Sui’an still told Xu Zhou.

“Sister Yaoyao?” Xu Zhou’s eyes brightened. “How could she be in Li Du Mansion? Is she well? Did she bring news of Father Emperor and our other brothers and sisters?”

Xie Sui’an didn’t know how to answer.

The light in Xu Zhou’s eyes dimmed. He already understood.

“Your Highness, please be at ease. The Bingzhu Bureau has a new leader who has successfully gained the Qi people’s trust today. Under his planning, he will surely rescue Princess Lingfu and safely escort you to Jinling.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Xu Zhou asked urgently.

“Your Highness, you need only wait safely.”

Xu Zhou sighed.

Sensing his dejection, Xie Sui’an felt sad.

This young man who appeared too weak to protect himself was hidden alone in this tiny space, waiting fearfully for intelligence passed in from outside. The burden on his shoulders was so heavy, yet what he could do was so little—he must feel very helpless.

She comforted him: “Leave the rest to us. Through fire and water, we will see you safely through.”

Xu Zhou had heard these words many times—so many times that he gradually couldn’t be inspired by them anymore, falling into greater self-reproach. But hearing them from this Sixth Miss Xie, he truly felt their power.

He couldn’t help but study her carefully.

Pang Yu had always stayed by his side to protect him. Being of similar age, they naturally talked more often. Pang Yu frequently spoke of his fiancée, Sixth Miss Xie.

During their flight, Pang Yu was his only friend. In those rare moments when they didn’t need to live in fear, the two would occasionally argue—Pang Yu claiming his fiancée was the most beautiful woman in the world, while he insisted his princess consort was the most beautiful.

They would spend half the day arguing over such trivial matters, yet find it incredibly relaxing and joyful.

Through Pang Yu’s descriptions, he had already vaguely sketched a woman’s image in his mind, but that image had been lifeless until seeing her in person brought it vibrantly to life.

No wonder Pang Yu liked her so much. She was someone whose very presence evoked thoughts of vigorous vitality. Her strength was outwardly radiating and infectious.

But Pang Yu was dead. He would never again have the chance to tell Pang Yu: I met your fiancée, and she’s indeed as wonderful as you said.

Xu Zhou felt sorrowful.

“Don’t go through fire and water… I don’t want any of you to die for me,” Xu Zhou looked sincerely at Xie Sui’an. “Sixth Miss, my condolences.”

Xie Sui’an looked at Xu Zhou in confusion: “Condolences?”

Xu Zhou was also startled—he had thought Xie Sui’an knew.

Everyone up and down the hierarchy had kept the news of Pang Yu’s death from Xie Sui’an, saying he had gone elsewhere on a mission and was temporarily not at Prince Ling’an’s side.

But no one had dared order Prince Ling’an to keep this secret. No one had expected they would suddenly broach this topic.

But Xu Zhou immediately caught himself: “I meant… regarding your elder brother’s passing, please accept my condolences.”

Even though his response was without fault, Xie Sui’an’s heart still skipped a beat. She vaguely seemed to have grasped some clue, but it was too elusive, like a slippery loach that vanished in an instant.

Xie Sui’an boldly studied Xu Zhou’s expression—he avoided her gaze slightly. She slowly cupped her hands in thanks: “Thank you for Your Highness’s concern.”

After a few more pleasantries, Xu Zhou had become somewhat distracted, so Xie Sui’an took her leave. Passing the Buddha statue again, she inexplicably noticed that the Buddha’s eyes had become mottled.

As if sensing something, the crack in her heart grew larger.

Xie Sui’an stared directly at the Buddha statue, her breathing becoming labored.

Was it because the gods and Buddhas had their eyes covered that this world had become so upside-down and unjust?

Or was it because there were no gods or Buddhas in this world at all—what was enshrined here was only people’s repeated hopes? People longed for flesh and blood to become indestructible vajra bodies, longed for a drop of dew to have life-restoring effects, or at the very least, longed for heavenly justice in the darkness—that good would be rewarded and evil would be punished in hell.

But what if good people became bones first while evil people remained in this world?

That thought roared in her heart. She wanted to confirm it again and turned back.

Just as she returned to the courtyard, she heard the young prince’s relieved voice speaking to Xie Jun from behind the carved door.

“That was close—I almost let it slip in front of Sixth Miss. So she still doesn’t know about Pang Yu’s death…”

BOOM—like thunder on flat ground.

She stepped back, kicking loose stones in the courtyard. The people inside opened the door in surprise, a strand of warm candlelight emerging. But this tiny, meager light couldn’t possibly encompass this vast night.