On both sides of Sifang Bridge, patrolling Qi soldiers remained sparse, while numerous carriages carrying dignitaries and nobles had already stopped along the shore, waiting for the painted boat to dock.

Hidden sentries everywhere were at the ready, with more soldiers disguised as civilians scattered throughout various locations.

Gusha surveyed the movements in the neighborhoods from his watchtower.

The painted boat on the river was approaching the Sifang Bridge lock, making Gusha increasingly tense.

“Archers, prepare.”

Countless archers crouched on rooftops under cover of night, arrows arranged in formation.

On the street approaching Sifang Bridge, a carriage slowly made its way through the crowded masses—this was the carriage of Li Du Mansion’s Prefect Huang Yankun.

Inside the carriage sat Xie Sui’an and Huang Yankun.

Xie Sui’an wept delicately behind her sleeve, while Huang Yankun looked pleased with himself, extending his arm around Xie Sui’an’s shoulder in a comforting gesture: “Master Pang’s sacrifice for the country is admirable, but Miss Xie Liu’s life must continue, mustn’t it? Tonight, accompany Huang on this painted boat river cruise—consider it a way to lift your spirits.”

What a coincidence it was—Huang Yankun had been invited by Wanyan Jun to board the painted boat. When his carriage passed near the Xie residence, it nearly collided with the distraught Xie Sui’an. Seeing the beauty in distress, Huang Yankun naturally coaxed her carefully. Upon inquiry, he learned that news of Pang Yu’s death had reached Wangxue Manor today.

This Huang Yankun immediately seized the opportunity, inviting Xie Sui’an into his carriage.

Xie Sui’an lifted her red, swollen yet captivating eyes and asked: “Haven’t the Qi people blockaded the Quleng River? This painted boat from who knows where—can it really get out?”

Huang Yankun replied smugly: “Naturally it can. The Sifang Bridge lock is under my jurisdiction. When I order them to open it, they must open it. Once Miss Xie Liu is on the painted boat, she can have a good rest, and tomorrow enjoy the scenery of the Yangtze River. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

“Indeed very wonderful,” Xie Sui’an looked up at Huang Yankun, her lips revealing a pitifully charming smile, but the light in her eyes had suddenly turned cold. “But unfortunately, you won’t be able to see it.”

Huang Yankun sensed something was wrong and was about to speak when a flash of cold light had already passed.

A dagger precisely penetrated his chest. He wanted to shout, but only fresh blood surged from his mouth. His limbs convulsed, and in moments he was still.

Xie Sui’an expressionlessly removed the token from Huang Yankun’s waist, then pulled out the dagger, wiped the blood clean with his robes, and concealed it back in her sleeve.

Her eye sockets were clearly still red, but her series of killing movements flowed like water.

“Bastard.”

Xie Sui’an cast a disgusted glance at the dead Huang Yankun and spat softly.

The carriage swayed as it turned around a street corner—this was a blind spot.

A figure flipped out from the carriage window and silently hid in the alleyways.

The driver seemed completely unaware of what had happened, continuing to drive the carriage forward.

…

At the control room beside the Sifang Bridge lock, everyone was already in battle formation.

The lock was currently open.

A leader moved among them, loudly commanding: “General Gusha orders: as soon as the fireworks bloom on the river, immediately close the lock—don’t let a single boat escape! Not too early, not too late—everyone keep your strings taut!”

Xie Sui’an had already changed into soldier’s attire and appeared at the control room entrance. Just as the guards were about to stop and question her, she displayed Huang Yankun’s token, and the guards immediately let her pass respectfully.

Just as Huang Yankun had said, those controlling the lock were still his people. The Qi people couldn’t figure out these mechanisms for the time being and had left everything entirely in his charge. The soldiers here treated the token as if seeing the prefect himself. As long as Xie Sui’an claimed she was here on behalf of the prefect to supervise, no one dared to slight her.

Xie Sui’an walked deeper inside with her head down. In the innermost stone chamber were the mechanical gears that operated the lock. It was extremely damp all around, with river water seeping through and pooling on the ground.

She silently picked up a small stone in her hand, flicked her finger, and the stone precisely lodged itself in the second gear.

——

On the painted boat, revelry continued.

Flower lanterns beneath the gallery swayed with the boat’s movement. The carved flowers on the window frames allowed light and shadow to cut through them, casting lush patterns on the ground. When someone passed by, the shadows would climb onto that person, then quietly settle back on the ground as footsteps faded away.

Nanyi followed behind Song Muchuan, her heartstrings taut as she looked left and right, afraid some suspicious person might emerge to ruin the plan. Fortunately, this was the private room corridor, and most guests were in the main hall, so there weren’t many people passing through.

Nanyi couldn’t help asking: “Master Song, where are we going? How can I help?”

Song Muchuan’s steps finally stopped. After observing that no one was around, he opened a door and ushered Nanyi inside.

“Madam, in here.”

This was where miscellaneous items were stored in the boat’s cabin.

Once inside the room, Song Muchuan solemnly bowed: “Madam, with so many people around earlier, it wasn’t convenient to speak. Sixth Miss asked me to help you leave Li Du Mansion.”

Nanyi was stunned—she had almost forgotten that Xie Xiaoliu had promised her that after rescuing Third Uncle, she would help her leave Li Du Mansion.

But after that plan was discovered by Xie Queshan, she had assumed Xie Xiaoliu was out of options. She was someone who lived day by day, giving up promptly when facing difficulties and seeking other roundabout paths.

She looked at Song Muchuan—the only variable could be him. Had he also contributed efforts to this?

Song Muchuan met her gaze openly and explained calmly: “Madam need not worry—everything that follows has been arranged. Word will spread from Wangxue Manor that you’ve suddenly contracted a serious illness. Fearing you might infect the household, you’ve moved yourself to an estate outside. After some time, they’ll say you died suddenly, and no one will come looking for you anymore.”

“But…”

Nanyi suddenly thought of Xie Queshan sitting among the flower lanterns—she had said she would return to make lanterns with him.

“Regarding Xie Queshan, Madam can also rest assured. He relies on Qi power, but his reach doesn’t extend to the Jiangnan region. Once you’re in Jinling, it will be impossible for him to find you.”

In her wavering, Nanyi was tempted.

She had obediently stayed by Xie Queshan’s side precisely so that one day he would fulfill his promise and let her go. Now, the destination was right before her eyes—why shouldn’t she step across?

There was no reason to refuse.

Her heart pounded—she knew very clearly that running away like this would be betraying Xie Queshan. But so what if it was betrayal? She was just a little scoundrel, a heartless opportunist. If she had the chance and didn’t run, insisting on staying by Xie Queshan’s side—what was she, some kind of masochist?

“He really… won’t be able to find me?” she asked again.

“Madam, trust me.”

Song Muchuan turned and retrieved a prepared bundle from a box in the corner.

“Sixth Miss has already prepared new identity documents and travel permits for Madam, along with some traveling funds. She couldn’t come to see you off personally and asked me to express her gratitude. With mountains high and waters far, may Madam take care.”

Nanyi’s nose felt a bit sour.

The best Xie Xiaoliu in the world—even while so grief-stricken herself, she still scattered sunshine to others. But in the end, it was through deceiving her that Nanyi had received all this kindness.

And Song Muchuan… though he said this was all Xie Xiaoliu’s intention, she knew that being able to send her away was no easy matter—he must have made many efforts as well.

At this moment when she should have been gleeful, Nanyi instead felt guilty and ashamed. What virtue or ability did someone as worthless as her possess to deserve help from such noble people?

“Master Song, do you know what kind of person I am?”

Song Muchuan met her gaze. Since boarding the boat, she had shown extreme vigilance, eagerly trying to protect him like a small beast ready to bare its fangs at any moment. But at this moment, he saw a certain vulnerability in her eyes.

He knew what kind of person she was—an illegitimate daughter of the Qin family, a girl who grew up in the marketplace, surviving through deception and trickery. He could even imagine that she had probably deceived Xiaoliu in some ways to make Xiaoliu go to such lengths to help her.

But he didn’t mind. She would never know that at any time, she radiated an innocent and unconscious beauty, the vigorous vitality of wild grass—cut down by spring wind, yet growing again.

She was both spring wind and wild grass—a beauty with the power to spread like wildfire.

And the love of beauty was common to all. His small bit of personal desire in this position was to preserve this radiance.

“I only know that the world is turbid, while Madam is heading toward clear streams.” He looked at her with gentle firmness.

Those clean amber eyes were like vessels holding a spring of clear mountain water—open and sincere, magnanimous and benevolent.

His words gave her tremendous strength. The confusion about her future path, the fear of the unknown, and that bit of disappointment in herself—all were gently brushed away by these words.

He understood her deepest desire; he knew she didn’t want to flow with the world’s filth.

There was a type of person in this world who was born like mountain breezes and clear winds, destined to be revered and trusted by others. Why should she abandon this reliable mountain to return and seek that human asura?

“Master Song, thank you. Please help me leave.”

Song Muchuan pushed open the window just as an inconspicuous firework burst above the river.

The signal had been sent.

Nanyi faintly heard tremendous clamor from the shore, with someone hysterically shouting “Close the lock! Close the lock!”

But the painted boat didn’t stop, heading directly toward the bridge opening of the lock.

At this moment, Gusha on the shore finally realized this was a feint within a stratagem—what Prince Ling’an? It was nothing but a gimmick that would never appear. This group of fools had opened the door with their own hands to send the enemy away.

Gusha could only hope the lock would close quickly to stop this painted boat, but the lock showed no movement whatsoever.

A soldier ran up breathlessly to report: “General, the lock mechanism seems to be broken…”

Gusha was furious, grabbing the man’s collar and asking irritably: “Where’s Huang Yankun?! Isn’t he supposed to be managing this? Where is he!”

At this moment, the prefect’s carriage finally arrived belatedly. Gusha pushed through the crowd and strode toward the carriage, but his steps suddenly froze.

He saw fresh blood seeping from the bottom of the carriage, dripping onto the ground. The driver lifted the carriage curtain, revealing the thoroughly dead Huang Yankun inside.

Gusha was stunned—he had been thoroughly outmaneuvered by an invisible enemy! In his rage and frustration, he commanded: “Shoot arrows! Quickly shoot arrows! Stop that painted boat!”

But the expected rain of arrows never came. A soldier beside him answered tremblingly: “Gen-General, all the people on the painted boat are Master Wanyan’s distinguished guests…”

Gusha angrily kicked the soldier into the river, but was powerless to do anything else. He could only watch helplessly as the painted boat drifted downstream, passing through the lock.