Madam Lu from next door quietly moved away one evening. Where she went, no one knew.

Mrs. Qi lost a subject for gossip and felt somewhat unaccustomed, while Fu Tingyun felt rather melancholy.

Mo Yi had become Zhao Ling’s superior, and Zhao Ling would depend on Mo Yi in many ways in the future. She and Madam Lu had fallen out, and if Madam Lu remained by Mo Yi’s side, who knew what whispers she might put in Mo Yi’s ear? Water dripping can pierce stone, and who could guarantee that Mo Yi would always maintain good feelings toward Zhao Ling?

She couldn’t take that risk!

Thinking of this, Fu Tingyun hardened her heart.

Zhao Ming, entrusted by Zhao Ling, brought her some rice, flour, sugar, and a letter.

In the letter, Zhao Ling asked about the ceremony marking the end of mourning for Master Jie. He also mentioned that he had just arrived at Nianbo Garrison with numerous matters to attend to and couldn’t get away for the time being. He suggested she hold the end-of-mourning ceremony at home, and when he returned to Zhangye, they would go together to the Great Buddha Temple to conduct a memorial service for Master Jie’s entire family.

Fu Tingyun put the letter away.

In the evening, as Zheng San’s wife was helping her bathe, she mentioned Zhao Ming: “He voluntarily followed our Ninth Master to Nianbo Garrison and is now a Registrar there. You haven’t seen this man—when he first came, his words inadvertently revealed some arrogance, but now he’s completely different. Not only does he call my husband ‘brother,’ but when he heard that Asen was the master’s sworn younger brother, he even gave Asen around two or three taels of loose silver, saying it was for Asen to buy writing materials.”

This was only natural.

Fu Tingyun asked dejectedly: “Did Asen accept it?”

“No!” Zheng San’s wife smiled. “Asen said that when you eat someone’s food, your mouth becomes soft; when you take someone’s things, your hands become short. Who knows what this Zhao Ming wants to do? So he refused to accept it, no matter what, and said it was by your instructions.”

Fu Tingyun smiled.

Asen had learned some simple principles from Zhao Ling.

She asked Zheng San’s wife: “Did Zhao Ming mention Ninth Master?”

“How could he not!” Zheng San’s wife placed the scented soap and towel beside the bathtub for Fu Tingyun and smiled. “He kept praising how well our Ninth Master and he get along. He also talked about matters at Nianbo Garrison. He said the Wu family has been in Nianbo Garrison for three or four generations. Wu Ying died without heirs, and they were planning to adopt a distant relative’s child under Wu Ying’s name, then find a way in the capital to have that child inherit his position. He also knew that the Marquis of Yingchuan wanted Ninth Master to temporarily serve as the Thousandman of Nianbo Garrison, and would formally appoint him once Ninth Master earned more military merit. So the Wu family has been causing trouble for Ninth Master behind his back. However, Zhao Ming also said that the Ninth Master is skilled and acts decisively, with the Marquis of Yingchuan’s support behind him. The Wu family could at most stir up some waves but couldn’t possibly bring down the Ninth Master. He also mentioned that the Marquis of Yingchuan’s father, the Duke Who Assists the State, was recently appointed Grand Guardian of the Crown Prince and enjoys the Emperor’s favor. So when the Marquis of Yingchuan sent a letter to the capital, the former Vice Commander-in-Chief Liu was immediately impeached, and the Bureau of Military Selection followed the Marquis’s wishes to make Master Wang the Vice Commander-in-Chief.” She became excited as she spoke. “Miss, do you think our master, having followed the Marquis of Yingchuan, might also become a Vice Commander-in-Chief?”

“Do you want to stay in Zhangye forever?” Fu Tingyun removed her clothes and asked Zheng San’s wife with a smile.

Zheng San’s wife caught a glimpse of Fu Tingyun’s snow-white body with its curves like mountain ranges, was momentarily stunned, and after a pause said: “Does Miss not want to stay in Zhangye anymore?” With the captivating image still lingering in her mind, her tone revealed a degree of distraction.

She wanted to be with Zhao Ling—anywhere would do!

Fu Tingyun rested her face on a towel placed on the edge of the bathtub and remained silent for a long while.

Following Zhao Ling’s instructions, she had held the end-of-mourning ceremony for her uncle at home, quietly removing the white cord from her black hair. However, she still wore a white silver-striped gauze shirt and bright blue skirt. Combined with the Feng Dahu incident, she was even more reluctant to go out. These changes were subtle, and no one noticed anything unusual about her.

Perhaps because Madam Lu had moved away, the two young ladies from the Wang family came to visit every few days, occasionally staying overnight.

Fu Tingyun did needlework with them, sometimes giving them guidance, and occasionally telling them stories from Buddhist scriptures or teaching them poetry. After completing his studies, Asen would come to help Fu Tingyun split threads or tear fabric. The second young lady would tease Asen, and Asen would retort. The two little ones would argue noisily, creating quite a lively atmosphere. Even Linchun wouldn’t leave, sitting on the doorstep. The house was always filled with laughter and joy.

Yet in her heart, she always felt a sense of loss and would often sit on the kang in a daze when alone.

Zheng San’s wife, being experienced, vaguely guessed Fu Tingyun’s thoughts. Seeing that July had arrived, she asked Fu Tingyun: “For the Zhongyuan Festival, I heard Mrs. Qi say that many people go to the Ruoshui River to release lanterns. Shall we go then?”

“Of the three thousand streams of the Weak Water, I would take but one ladle to drink.”

Fu Tingyun was somewhat tempted but feared causing trouble and hesitated.

Mrs. Qi came rushing over.

“Miss Fu, Miss Fu, have you heard?” She was panting, with beads of sweat on her forehead. “A few days ago, someone broke into the Marquis of Xiping’s estate outside Liangzhou City and shot Feng Dahu dead with arrows.”

“What did you say?” Fu Tingyun stood up in shock.

“It’s true, it’s true!” Mrs. Qi chuckled with a hint of schadenfreude. “It happened twelve days ago. They say the man wore black clothes and a conical hat; people only saw his chin. He came alone on horseback, went straight to the Feng family residing at the Marquis of Xiping’s estate, shot three arrows at Feng Dahu, and then galloped away. By the time the Marquis of Xiping’s people reacted, he was long gone. The heir of the Marquis of Xiping sent household guards with five or six hundred men to search the entire area around Liangzhou, but couldn’t find even a trace of the man. The Marquis of Xiping was furious and brought over two hundred household guards to personally see the Marquis of Yingchuan, requesting that he mobilize troops from Liangzhou Garrison to capture the killer. The Marquis of Xiping is still at the Commander-in-Chief’s office and hasn’t left yet!”

Alone on horseback… wearing a conical hat… dressed in black… For some reason, Zhao Ling’s image unexpectedly appeared in Fu Tingyun’s mind.

She suddenly felt her mouth go dry: “Besides Feng Dahu, did this person injure anyone else?”

“No!” Mrs. Qi shook her head. “He only killed Feng Dahu. They say when people tried to stop him afterward, he merely used his horsewhip to sweep them aside without harming anyone.” Her tone was filled with emotion. “How wonderful it would be if the Marquis of Yingchuan didn’t agree to let the Marquis of Xiping mobilize Liangzhou Garrison’s troops! This Feng Dahu should have been killed long ago!” At this point, she appeared somewhat puzzled. “Why didn’t this person kill Feng Dahu earlier? Why did he wait until Feng Dahu returned to the Marquis of Xiping’s household before making his move? Didn’t he know that breaking into someone’s home to kill would anger the Marquis of Xiping? Even if the Marquis didn’t care much about Feng Dahu, by slapping the Marquis’s face like this, the Marquis couldn’t possibly swallow this insult! Now Feng Dahu was already a cripple, yet he paid such a high price to kill him, showing he must have had a deep blood feud with Feng Dahu. Knowing what would happen, why did he act this way…” As she spoke, her gaze fell on Fu Tingyun. “Don’t you think it’s possible that he didn’t previously know it was Feng Dahu who had wronged him? Now that he knows, he is determined to kill Feng Dahu at all costs. The last time, Feng Dahu was trying to harm you, wasn’t he?”

“I, I, I don’t know!” Fu Tingyun’s heart was pounding wildly, with all her blood rushing to her head, making her face flush red. “All our people are here, and no one has gone on a long journey!”

“That’s true,” Mrs. Qi said. “Now that Centurion Zhao has been confirmed as a Thousandman with the rank of a centurion, everyone knows that Centurion Zhao is one of the top favorites of the Marquis of Yingchuan. What is Feng Dahu? If Centurion Zhao just said a word, the Marquis of Xiping, who now dares not offend the Marquis of Yingchuan, would certainly have Feng Dahu bound and delivered to Centurion Zhao to apologize. Why would there be any need to send someone to the Marquis of Xiping’s estate to kill him…”

Fu Tingyun couldn’t remember what else Mrs. Qi said after that.

She vaguely saw Mrs. Qi off and lay alone on the kang. At one moment, she saw Zhao Ling smiling gently at her; at another, she saw him looking at her with a helpless expression; then she saw him frowning; and then she saw his eyebrows arch, his face showing murderous intent…

Was he involved?

Did he do it?

Fu Tingyun kept asking herself, feeling as though she had found the answer, yet also as if she were walking in a dense fog, unable to see the path ahead.

Outside came the sound of Linchun’s giggles.

Fu Tingyun jumped up from the bed like a startled bird: “Zheng San, Zheng San, quickly go find out whether the Marquis of Yingchuan has agreed to let the Marquis of Xiping use Liangzhou Garrison’s troops to capture Feng Dahu’s killer!”

Zheng San looked confused but went to inquire.

Fu Tingyun lit three incense sticks and respectfully bowed three times to the statue of Shakyamuni in the shrine, then sat quietly in the chair nearby, waiting for Zheng San’s return.

When Zheng San returned, he was covered in sweat: “The Marquis of Yingchuan has agreed to let the Marquis of Xiping use Liangzhou Garrison’s troops to seek justice for Feng Dahu.” As he said this, his demeanor revealed concern mixed with understanding.

Fu Tingyun’s heart suddenly began to race.

She bit her lip and instructed Zheng San: “Go to Nianbo Garrison right away and tell Ninth Master about this.”

Zheng San hesitated: “Miss, at this time, it’s better to remain calm than to act.”

If Zhao Ling had indeed done this, he would have found an excuse to leave Nianbo Garrison. Nianbo Garrison and Liangzhou Garrison were north and south of each other. If he hadn’t returned to Nianbo Garrison yet, or if he had told the people at Nianbo Garrison that he was returning to Zhangye… if they went looking for him, wouldn’t they expose Zhao Ling’s whereabouts?

“I understand!” Fu Tingyun nodded, but her heart was filled with distress.

Was this Zhao Ling’s doing?

Soon, the entire city of Zhangye was discussing this matter.

Even Madam Wang smiled and said: “Someone intimately familiar with the layout of the Marquis of Xiping’s estate, moving through Liangzhou as if through uninhabited territory, leaving no trace along the way. My husband says this person is truly talented. If found, we should somehow save face for the Marquis of Xiping but keep him to serve at the Commander-in-Chief’s office.” By the end of her words, there was a hint of jest.

Fu Tingyun, however, couldn’t laugh.

She tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

Since Zhao Ling had written asking if anything had happened at home, he had never returned.

As this thought flashed through her mind, she sat up with a jolt.

If he had known about Feng Dahu’s matter at that time… given his personality, how could he have let it go so lightly… It must have been him, it must have been him… only he could have such ability… which was why even Zheng San had suspicions upon hearing the news…

Was this why he hadn’t come home—because he felt he couldn’t face her?

Fu Tingyun counted the days on her fingers.

Zhao Ling would write her a letter every month. She would wait another half month. After that, if he didn’t come to see her, she would go to see him.