Every year at this time, Zhang Yuehui would disappear for seven days.

When his entire family was executed, he had escaped from the capital but failed to collect their bodies.

He had a younger sister who was only seven years old when the incident occurred, a little jade doll-like child who loved clinging to him, running around the courtyard shouting “brother, brother.” His sister died in prison, reportedly poisoned by a concubine.

The men of the family were beheaded, while the women would all be sent to the Imperial Music Bureau to become official slaves. The concubine felt that such a life was worse than being reborn.

If his sister could have lived, he would certainly have the ability to rescue her now, but he couldn’t blame the concubine’s decision at the time. Those who make decisions only suffer more.

This guilt had tormented him for many years.

He didn’t know why his family members never appeared in his dreams to find him. Why didn’t anyone tell him where their remains were abandoned in some desolate wilderness, giving him a chance to be a filial son?

Was it that in his family’s hearts, he was forever the one they couldn’t count on?

Some things would never have answers again.

He could only search everywhere for eminent monks, establish memorial tablets for his family, build treasure pagodas, and recite millions of sutras before Buddha, hoping their souls wouldn’t wander in this world but would soon cross the Yellow Springs and be reborn.

Year after year, this had become Zhang Yuehui’s habit.

Yet deep in his heart, he knew these dignified ceremonies and displays were merely remedial measures. This was more like a dose of comfort medicine he gave himself – only at this time each year could he have an almost absurd reunion with those names on the memorial tablets.

He was a homeless wandering soul with no one to deliver him salvation.

No… once there had been someone.

But he had abandoned that home and taken a heretical path. His heart held hatred for this world, and that hatred drove him forward. The person he had abandoned seemed to have vanished from the earth, giving him no opportunity for redemption.

In previous years, he never made wishes.

He was naturally rebellious – whatever he wanted to do, he would do even if it went against heaven. He didn’t need heaven’s help. But now he finally sensed a trace of powerlessness.

He knelt before the Buddha statue and made a wish.

The wish was to find her.

Not knowing how long he had knelt, he rose and left the main hall, only to see the abbot standing outside at some unknown time, pressing his palms together in salute.

The great monk looked at him with what seemed like compassion in his eyes.

He said: “The most fair thing in the world is cause and effect. Tragic misunderstandings are the bitter fruit you must bear.”

Zhang Yuehui was stunned. Tragic misunderstandings? But what had he missed?

He couldn’t yet penetrate the mystery within, but he had a vague uneasiness that rippled through the soft places in his chest.

Xie Queshan had returned to Snow-Gazing Retreat some days ago. The wounds on his body had passed through the most dangerous period and were slowly healing.

When new flesh grew, it always itched somewhat, and he couldn’t scratch it, often making him restless, as if constantly reminding him of the wound’s existence.

Sometimes it was hard for him to distinguish whether what made him scratch his heart and liver was the person who had caused this wound, or the wound itself.

But he wasn’t affected by it – the things that needed scheming continued to be schemed, calm and unruffled.

All of the Torch Bureau’s upcoming plans had essentially one direction – dismantling the Qi people’s military strength in Li Du Mansion to ensure Prince Ling’an’s safe journey south.

Song Muchuan helped the Qi people build ships, with large amounts of manpower and materials passing through his hands. There were many tricks to be played here, and Xie Queshan didn’t need too much action – just providing cover for him would suffice.

Xie Queshan had thought that given Song Muchuan’s usually gentle and refined scholarly temperament, his working style should be gradual and steady. He hadn’t expected that as soon as Song took office, he would be quite radical – creating diversions to send Xie Zhu away, blowing up mountains to help the Yucheng Army escape like a cicada shedding its shell. These tasks were all completed in thrilling fashion.

After three days apart, one should view someone with new respect. Deep in his heart, Xie Queshan was pleased. Previously he had underestimated Song Muchuan – he was absolutely worthy of being called a reliable and powerful comrade-in-arms. But even an old gambler like him sometimes couldn’t help worrying about Song Muchuan, fearing he might be too aggressive and expose himself.

Fortunately, this period had been relatively peaceful.

Until Homecoming Hall suddenly invited him to a banquet.

…

After several days of coldness, Huachao Pavilion was once again filled with song and dance. The elegant rooms on the second and third floors were all banquet venues, but the leading servant didn’t take Xie Queshan upstairs. Instead, he continued walking without stopping, leading him deeper into the pavilion.

Entering the wine cellar, they opened a heavy iron door at the deepest part, revealing a solid and sinister tunnel behind it.

Soon someone came out with a candle to greet them – one of Zhang Yuehui’s subordinates.

Luo Ci bowed respectfully: “Young Master Queshan, Homecoming Hall recently captured a Torch Bureau member. Due to their special identity, we specifically request you to take a look and identify them.”

Xie Queshan’s heart had already risen with some suspicion. He couldn’t fathom what kind of move this was. Which Torch Bureau member had been captured that he hadn’t heard about? He warily followed Luo Ci inside, instinctively observing left and right, perceiving this was a heavily guarded dungeon.

Luo Ci pushed open a small door to a solitary room with a hidden window in the wall that allowed viewing the other side.

He suddenly had an intuition that behind that window was a scene he absolutely didn’t want to see. His movements paused as he asked with feigned nonchalance: “Where is your master?”

“Our master finds it inconvenient to see guests these days. His meaning can be conveyed through me just the same. Master says, to express his apologies, today’s intelligence is all free.”

Luo Ci made a gesture of invitation, asking Xie Queshan to look through that hidden window.

Hunting instincts made Xie Queshan realize he was currently the other party’s prey. He could very well turn and leave without entering the trap, but some strange intuition prompted him to move forward and walk to the window.

Then his gaze was immediately fixed on the scene before him.

Nanyi was bound to a tiger bench, her body crisscrossed with shocking whip wounds. Not knowing how many times she had been doused with cold water, the blood stains and water marks in her hair stuck together, messily covering her face strand by strand.

At this moment, the torturer had added a brick under her bound legs, and her straight calves were almost being bent backwards.

Her listlessly hanging head was suddenly awakened by the pain. She lifted her head and opened her mouth, her whole body convulsing, as if there was a breath stuck in her throat that couldn’t go up or down. The pain nearly suffocated her, and she could only emit hoarse whimpering sounds.

“This Torch Bureau member claims to be the Young Madam of the Xie family. Does Young Master recognize this person?”

Xie Queshan’s gaze, filled with tremendous killing intent, swept over Luo Ci. He almost abandoned rational thinking and quickly seized his throat.

He had laid such a great trap, nearly risking his own life, just to ensure her safety – how dare they! How dare they treat her like this! Where was Song Muchuan?! Was this how he watched over the person entrusted to him?

“You dare touch someone from my Xie family?!”

Luo Ci’s throat was seized, his face deathly pale, but his hand quickly reached for a thin rope on the wall. The copper bell immediately rang, and fully armed guards rushed in, forming a confrontational stance at the door.

But Xie Queshan had no intention of loosening his grip. At this moment, probably any living creature that approached him would be crushed by his fury.

Luo Ci said with difficulty: “Doesn’t Young Master remember? …She is the Torch Bureau member who wounded you on Lantern Festival night. Our Homecoming Hall… has already captured this person… Young Master… why are you angry?”

Why angry? Why angry? Why angry?!

This question ultimately tore through his mind, letting the last trace of rationality break in.

Previously, he himself had claimed that a Torch Bureau member had wounded him, and he had extracted the Yucheng Army’s location from the opponent before barely escaping back to Li Du Mansion.

He didn’t know how Nanyi had been exposed or what she had confessed under such severe torture, but if Homecoming Hall was so certain she was the one who had wounded him in Tiger Kneel Mountain, he should regard her as an enemy to make his lie complete.

After discerning this layer of meaning, Xie Queshan immediately realized that Homecoming Hall was using Nanyi to test his position.

Regarding his position, that was a bombshell secret that could sell for a sky-high price with the Qi people and could also put him to death.

If he showed too much concern for her, he would fall right into Homecoming Hall’s trap. They had asked him to come watch this show precisely to make him lose his composure, hadn’t they?

Like being viciously stabbed in his weak spot, the pain in his heart spread throughout his body, but he was a skilled hunter who would never admit to having a weak spot. His first reaction was to immediately raise all his spines and wrap himself up.

He wasn’t afraid of the weapons behind him at all, and didn’t even restrain the anger on his face: “What is Homecoming Hall anyway? Made a bit of war profit and actually thinks it’s somebody important, even daring to interfere in my affairs??”

At this moment, Luo Ci was truly having trouble breathing.

This was his first time dealing with Xie Queshan. Previously he had only heard others speak of this human Asura’s iron-blooded methods, but having been by Zhang Yuehui’s side for so long with everything going smoothly, he had been careless and hadn’t taken Xie Queshan seriously. Only now did he realize that these few probing sentences he thought were sure to succeed could intimidate those with shallow cultivation, but were completely useless against Xie Queshan.

He couldn’t even see him show any panic or anguish over this woman. He seemed angry only that Homecoming Hall had interfered in his affairs. Even if it was as his master suspected – that he and that woman had some private relationship – at this moment, he would undoubtedly abandon her without hesitation.

This person… absolutely would not allow himself to be in a passive position.

Nanyi also heard that familiar voice. Even though her consciousness was already confused with pain, she still lifted her eyes to explore in that direction and saw his face.

As if sensing it, he also saw her. Their gazes met in an instant of silence.

This was a gaze between those who had been long separated but didn’t wish to reunite.

Her heart was utterly sour, but Nanyi showed no trace of pleading expression. Her face held only numbness.

She saw in his face the attitude of watching a fire from across the river.

Just as she had expected, he wouldn’t care about her life or death. When she clearly understood she couldn’t obtain his pity, she would obediently withdraw her strength and put it toward more useful things.

Such as overcoming pain.

She closed her eyes again.

Her disappointment was like invisible daggers, once again piercing through him, but Xie Queshan quickly composed himself and returned his gaze to Luo Ci.

“Go tell that self-clever master of yours that he lost his whole family in the Spring Shock incident. If he wants revenge on me, he should have the guts to come kill me directly.”

Xie Queshan released his hand, letting go of Luo Ci. Just as Luo Ci caught his breath, he felt intense pain in his shoulder blade.

Xie Queshan had casually grabbed a pair of pliers hanging on the wall and swiftly, accurately, and ruthlessly driven them into his collarbone, pinning him directly to the wall.

Even the well-trained Luo Ci couldn’t help but scream in agony.

The dim light and shadow carved out Xie Queshan’s cold, stern contours: “As for this woman, I’ve long wanted to kill her – whoever has the guts can do it for me.”

Nanyi clearly heard his words.

Word by word, directly impacting her eardrums.

Her body hurt terribly, but a desolate smile actually appeared on her face.

Those two times, she should have been killed by him in Tiger Kneel Mountain. The extra days she had lived were like something stolen from heaven, so heaven wanted to give her enormous punishment.

Xie Queshan hardened his heart and didn’t look toward her, brushing his sleeves and turning away.

He was weaponless, but the guards outside only dared to hold their swords toward him. No one dared to make a move to stop him, just parting to create a path and letting him stride away.

Seeing him leave through the door, some guards wanted to go rescue Luo Ci, but Xie Queshan’s footsteps stopped with an ominous weight.

He turned back, his tone containing the oppressive force of natural authority: “Let your master personally come save his good dog. Anyone who dares help him, I’ll kill them.”

The flickering firelight on the wall stretched Xie Queshan’s retreating figure into a long, pitch-black shadow. Beneath his sleeves, his fists were already clenched until his knuckles turned white.

Wasn’t he also using rage to cover his own powerlessness?

But he was very clear that any trace of concern he showed for her would become a weapon they used to harm her. In the current passive situation, this was all he could do.

The preparations he should make, he had made long ago. He wanted Nanyi to hate and fear him, precisely because he feared this day would come. In her heart, he was an undeniable villain, and Homecoming Hall couldn’t possibly extract any information about him from Nanyi’s mouth.

But she was suffering because of him, and he couldn’t stand by and watch. He had to ensure he remained at the gambling table so he could win her back.

Though he held no chips in his hand, he bluffed, disguising himself as someone holding a good hand, hoping his opponent would be deterred and flee in defeat.

He had to save her, but he must remain calm.