After Lang Bo left—

Jingrong let out a long sigh and walked out from inside the room, standing beneath the eaves.

Outside, several red lanterns had been hung at some unknown time, their light illuminating his sharply defined profile, seemingly gradually smoothing and rounding his features.

He had lost some of his harsh coldness and gained more of a languid air.

Suddenly—

His gaze shifted upward, directing a question toward the roof, “How long have you been here?”

Muruo was sitting lazily, half-reclined on the roof, one hand propped on the low platform beside the corner ridge, the other dangling a wine flask.

Hearing the question from below, he curved his lips in a smile and poured a mouthful of wine into his mouth.

He said slowly, “I’ve been here since you mentioned the late emperor’s edict.”

So he had also heard everything Lang Bo said about not being able to find Wei Yi.

Jingrong’s eyes deepened as he asked, “What are you doing up here?”

Muruo let out a long sigh.

“The entire marquis estate is full of people, noisy and chaotic. Only your place is quiet, so I came to hide here for a while.”

No words could respond to that!

Jingrong asked no further questions.

But Muruo was drinking quite contentedly. He raised the wine flask in his hand and called down, “Premium aged wine, obtained from the marquis estate. Want a drink? It’s excellent.”

“You stole it, didn’t you?”

“How can you call it stealing? Fine wine for idle men—that’s taking, not stealing. Your wording is incorrect.”

“Sophistry.”

“Sophistry? I don’t like that word. What I spoke was ancient wisdom, every word precise.”

Jingrong smiled slightly. Though he couldn’t see the righteous expression on the face of the person on the roof, he could imagine it—certainly comical and endearing.

He shook his head helplessly and paid no more attention.

After a long while—

Muruo finished the wine and set the flask down beside him. The roof tiles were stacked unevenly, so the water-blue wine bottle, once released, went “clang clang clang” several times, rolling down from the tiles on the roof.

It looked about to smash on the ground.

But Jingrong reached out to catch it, then weighed it in his hand a few times before gently setting it on the ground.

From above came the sound of creaking laughter.

“Interesting!”

How interesting, my foot!

Jingrong really wanted to throw the wine bottle back up and smash that drunkard to death.

But thinking it over, he restrained that impulse.

Who knew that from above came another voice, “Such a coward.”

And then more creaking laughter.

Jingrong still held back, having no mood to fool around with him. Otherwise, the drunkard above would already be flattened like a compressed biscuit.

After who knows how long, Muruo’s laughter finally stopped. After a moment of silence, he lay down on the roof like a puddle of mud. Just when it seemed he had fallen asleep, he made a drowsy sound, saying, “If something really happened to Wei Yi, how will you explain it to Mister Ji? After all, he got dragged into this because of your previous rivalry with Prince Yi.”

Ugh!

Jingrong’s expression darkened, not expecting him to suddenly say such a thing.

For a long time, he gave no response, only standing quietly beneath the eaves, his deep and somber eyes fixed tightly on the distant swaying lantern.

He and Muruo.

One above!

One below!

One drowsy!

One silent!

The next morning at dawn, the carriage was prepared and ready to depart.

However, Marquis Kang did not come to see them off, probably still in his room looking at that bloodstained notebook.

The old steward of the estate was a careful man who added many things to the carriage—food, drink, everything one could need.

“Your Highness, travel safely,” he bowed.

Jingrong said, “With so many incidents happening in succession at the estate, the marquis will probably have difficulty processing it all for a while. You must watch over him carefully.”

“Yes, Your Highness, rest assured.”

Jingrong nodded and boarded the carriage.

They moved forward slowly!

The carriage train left Jingzhou City and traveled along mountain roads for a while, bouncing continuously.

Jingrong pulled Ji Yunshu into his embrace, holding her tightly, fearing her body might be unstable and hit the carriage wall.

When the carriage gradually steadied, Jingrong brought two fingers together and lifted the curtain to look out. By now they had passed through that forest and reached the official road.

“At this pace, we’ll reach the foot of Liang Mountain in three days.”

Not far from the capital then.

Ji Yunshu lifted the curtain on the other side, her gaze looking backward.

Seeing this, Lang Bo rode his horse over and asked, “Mister Ji, what are your orders?”

“Are Wen Xian and Zhao Huai still following?”

“They’ve been behind us the whole time, but haven’t come close.”

She made an acknowledging sound and withdrew her head, saying nothing more.

The carriage train traveled on the official road for another day. Just as they were about to reach the foot of Liang Mountain outside the capital, the weather turned unfavorable and a torrential downpour began. Each raindrop fell like jade beads, beating pitter-patter on the black canopy of the carriage. The sky seemed to have opened a great hole as rolling thunder accompanied by fierce wind and rain struck, growing increasingly wild…

In just moments, the previously clear sky was densely shrouded by dark clouds.

Gray and gloomy.

In such conditions, it was impossible to move an inch!

Fortunately, there was a Guang’an Temple nearby, situated in the mountains. Though not particularly famous, its incense offerings were still quite prosperous.

Jingrong ordered them to head to the temple first to shelter from the rain, and continue once it stopped.

The group arrived through the rain, but the temple’s main gate was tightly shut.

The Guang’an Temple plaque was simply a piece of lacquered wood with the three characters “Guang’an Temple” branded on it, very simple.

Lang Bo dismounted and knocked on the door.

After a long while, the red wooden gate slowly opened, but only a crack. A small monk’s dark eyes peered out. His gaze swept over Lang Bo, taking in his fierce and menacing appearance, then noticed the long sword in his hand. He immediately froze, and the door gap narrowed slightly.

“Who might you be, benefactor?”

“Don’t be afraid, little monk. We’re passing through this area and with the heavy rain outside, we’d like to enter the temple to shelter from the rain. We’ll leave once it stops.”

“This…” The small monk had no authority to decide. “Wait a moment, this humble monk will go inform the abbot.”

Having said that, he quickly shut the door tightly again.

Lang Bo was puzzled. He said to the guard beside him, “Isn’t it said that those in temples all have the compassion of Bodhisattvas? With such heavy rain falling outside, they should immediately open the door and let us in. Why must they go ask for permission? If this were on the battlefield with enemies pursuing and us retreating to the city, would we need the city lord’s approval before they could open the gate? If that were the case, we’d probably all be dead.”

Brother, you’re getting way off track.

The guard laughed and patted his shoulder, saying, “I think the little monk was scared by you.”

“It’s not like I have a face that looks like I eat people.”

“Lang Guard, you really should look in a mirror.”

After the two bantered for a while, the main gate finally opened. The small monk from before opened the door fully.

He placed his palms together. “Amitabha, the abbot has said that all under heaven are one family, and hardship and blessing are shared. Please, all benefactors, enter the temple to shelter from the rain. This rain won’t stop anytime soon, so we’ve arranged several meditation chambers for you benefactors to stay the night.”

Your abbot is truly kind!

Lang Bo clasped his hands around his sword and bowed with cupped fists. “Thank you, little monk.”

“Amitabha.”