Early the following morning, Qin Yao accompanied the Duchess of Lu back to the academy.

Upon their return, the Duchess of Lu announced, as expected, that the academy would be going on holiday. How many days the holiday would last had not yet been decided — for the time being, students were simply instructed to return home and await further notice.

All the young women knew that the academy’s sudden holiday was almost certainly connected to the events at the Duke Lu residence the night before. Seeing that both Princess Kangping and Feng Chuyue had simultaneously vanished, everyone could not help but harbor quiet suspicions.

Xia Yan’s face was shrouded as though beneath a layer of frost. From the moment she had appeared at the academy that morning to the moment the Xia family’s people came to collect her, not a trace of a smile had crossed her face.

Liu Bingyu and the others, knowing the full story, found Xia Yan’s dark and sullen demeanor deeply unpleasant.

Pei Min said bitterly: “Anyone who didn’t know better would think she’d been terribly wronged. Who would ever imagine that she’s sulking because her plot to harm someone came to nothing?”

Liu Bingyu added in contempt: “When she first came back to the capital and I visited the Wei Duke’s residence for the first time, I saw how warmly and graciously she received everyone — I thought she was an exceptionally well-bred and refined young lady. It’s beyond me how someone who looks as lovely as a flower could have a heart more vicious than that of a wolf.”

Wang Yingning, who was always cautious by nature, had already noticed something off about Xia Yan ever since the incident at the Great Hidden Temple, and had grown increasingly wary of her after the episode at Jade Spring Mountain. Hearing Liu Bingyu and Pei Min air their grievances at length, she advised them: “Now that you know this person is two-faced, you should all the more be careful of what you say and do around her at the academy — why hand her a weapon to use against you?”

Both of them fell immediately silent.

Qin Yao still had a hot, choking sense of outrage she could not release. When she saw Xia Yan being fawned over by Chen Yuqi and the others as they passed her by — expression composed, face betraying not a shred of shame — fury overcame her better judgment, and she quietly reached into her sleeve for a paper talisman, casting a ghost-summoning incantation.

The talisman fell without a sound at Xia Yan’s feet, and in moments had attached itself invisibly to the sole of her shoe.

Xia Yan had no awareness of it at all. She continued to listen to Chen Yuqi and the others talking and flattering her as she walked toward the main gate, almost ready to step out of the academy grounds.

From where she stood, Qin Yao quietly channeled her focus, and at precisely the right instant, said in a low voice: “Withdraw.”

Just as Xia Yan lifted her hem to cross the threshold, the talisman slipped free from the bottom of her shoe and drifted down like a withered leaf into the dust.

Pei Min and the others had seen it clearly. Curious, they asked: “What was that?”

Qin Yao smiled a little uneasily and said: “Giving her a small lesson — and making sure she behaves herself and doesn’t cause trouble for the next little while.”

Because it was the first time she had used the Daoist techniques her master had taught her to harm a person, Qin Yao’s voice lacked its usual confidence as she said it. But if she did not give Xia Yan some manner of retribution, she truly could not swallow this grievance.

Knowing she had broken one of the Qingyun Temple’s rules, Qin Yao returned home and immediately of her own accord went to retrieve her copy of the Classic of the Way and Virtue, intending to transcribe it a hundred times as penance for the ill she had caused.

Copying the text was time-consuming and mentally exhausting, and so Qin Yao spent every day shut up at home without going anywhere. It was fortunate that Wang Yingning and the others, having nothing to do at home themselves, frequently came together to visit her at the Qu family residence, so that she did not feel the solitude too keenly.

Then one day, Liu Bingyu arrived with news: Feng Chuyue had hanged herself at home — though, naturally, because her family had “found her in time,” she had not succeeded in dying.

“The events of that night — I don’t know who let it out, but the story has spread everywhere now. Even my grandfather has heard of it. He has always held Feng Baiyu in high regard, and he says that judging by Baiyu’s character, his younger sister surely cannot be much different. Now people all over the city are saying that Feng Chuyue deliberately set a trap to ensnare Second Young Master Xia and climb her way up through him. My grandfather absolutely refuses to believe it, and since Feng Baiyu has been at his wits’ end these past few days, my grandfather even went to say a few words on Feng Chuyue’s behalf at the Wei Duke’s residence. But the Wei Duke and Princess Derong just kept insisting that if Feng Chuyue wanted to enter their household, she could come as a concubine — entering as a proper wife was completely out of the question. When Feng Chuyue heard, she hanged herself.”

Liu Bingyu told everything she knew in one breath, then added her own assessment at the end: “If someone truly wants to die, there are always ways to do it. Feng Chuyue is clearly using the threat of death as leverage, trying to force the Wei Duke’s household and Second Young Master Xia to back down. Can’t blame her for being from the countryside — she probably thought this was still their home in Yuanzhou, treating the Wei Duke’s residence like some small-town gentry family. She didn’t count on the Wei Duke’s household having endured so many storms since the founding of the dynasty. They’re not going to be moved by a trick like this.”

Wang Yingning listened to the whole account in quiet, then smiled and said: “That is not quite right. Don’t forget — when the current Emperor ascended the throne, the entire Wei Duke family was exiled to Shu Province for eleven years. The household was never broken at its roots, but it was grievously weakened. In those days the Wei Duke’s household was at the very height of its power, and yet because of its involvement in the struggle for the throne, they were struck down from the heights of greatness. Now that they have finally returned to the capital after all of that, if I were the Wei Duke Xia Hongsheng, I would walk on eggshells every single day, for fear of drawing the present Emperor’s suspicion again. As for why the Duke has taken such an uncompromising stance this time — one reason is that the Feng family’s standing is simply too modest, and Feng Chuyue’s own conduct in this matter does not withstand scrutiny. And another reason is that the world has always judged women harshly and men leniently — for a young man of a great household like Second Young Master Xia, something like this amounts to no more than a youthful indiscretion; no one will think the worse of his character for it. And that is precisely why the Wei Duke feels so secure in his position.”

In one measured speech, she laid the entire affair out with complete clarity. Qin Yao was deeply impressed. Thinking of the Xia family’s conduct in all this, and though she knew Feng Chuyue had brought it upon herself, she still felt a sour discomfort in her heart — and thought of how Feng Baiyu must be suffering right now.

She wanted to go to the Feng family and check on him, but was afraid Feng Chuyue might latch onto her if she did. On top of that, Lin Xiao had recently asked her not to go wandering about, for fear that the Xia siblings might stir up more trouble. She decided it was better to wait until her brother came home and ask him to find out more.

Pei Min was thoroughly indignant. “If I were Feng Baiyu, I could not possibly swallow this. I would take up a sword, cut down Second Young Master Xia on the spot, then take my sister back to my hometown, change our names, and never set foot in the capital again. What is the point of staying here to be a government official?”

Liu Bingyu, listening beside her, folded her hands toward her in a mock bow. “Ah — so it turns out we have a heroine in our midst. I am truly humbled.”

Pei Min went scarlet and let out a scoff: “Just you and your too-many words…”

A couple more days passed, and Qin Yao heard from Wang Yingning that from the very day Xia Yan had gone home after leaving the academy, she had been haunted by a malevolent spirit in her own house. Frightened out of her wits, she had been burning with fever and suffering nightmares without cease day or night. Princess Derong had summoned several rounds of imperial physicians from the palace, all of whom had been utterly helpless. It was only after the abbot Yuan Jue was invited to come to the residence and drive out the malevolent presence that any improvement at all appeared.

Word was that the fever had now broken and she was lucid again, but she still could not take food or drink, and remained bedridden all day long.

“That trick of yours really worked,” Liu Bingyu said with great satisfaction upon hearing of Xia Yan’s misfortune.

Qin Yao said with a lingering note of regret: “It’s a shame I didn’t encounter Xia Di as well. If I could have made him suffer properly too, I’d be willing to transcribe the Classic of the Way and Virtue for an entire year.”

“Yes,” Pei Min said with a firm nod. “Ideally something that leaves him missing an arm or a leg — it would serve him right for being so vile!”

On this day, early morning court was held, and regional officials had come to the capital to present their annual reports, so there was a great deal of business before the court. The morning session ran later than usual.

After it was dismissed, Wei Duke Xia Hongsheng exchanged a few hushed words with several officials about reassignments and promotions within the court, then bade them farewell and made for home.

Recent days at home had been full of nuisances, leaving Xia Hongsheng in a somewhat frayed state of mind — his younger daughter ill, his second son embroiled in a scandal, and even his eldest son, usually reliable, had been brought up before the censors on an accusation of allowing those under his command in the governor-general’s office to ride recklessly through the marketplace and injure a passerby. Fortunately, his eldest son had had the sense to personally visit the injured party’s home on the subordinate’s behalf to offer an apology, and upon returning home administered military discipline to the man himself — only then had the Emperor chosen not to press the matter further.

Though the Emperor had by now fully set aside any old grievances against the Wei Duke’s household, Xia Hongsheng had only to think of the fact that his wife’s elder brother had once contested the throne with the present Emperor to feel as though a naked blade hung perpetually above his head — and that he never knew which day the Emperor might be in an ill humor, and the sword would fall again.

And truth be told, the present Emperor had been pleasant enough as a prince. But after the death of that side-consort called A’Hui in his household, his temperament had become erratic, shifting between moods without warning. Once he ascended to the throne, his suspicions grew heavier still — in those first few years as Emperor in particular, he was given to fits of capriciousness that left almost no one able to anticipate his moods.

These past few years, the Emperor’s temperament seemed to have grown considerably more settled. But the shadow those early years had cast over Xia Hongsheng was too deep — every time he was summoned to the imperial presence, he would break into a cold sweat without meaning to, terrified of one wrong step, one slip, one moment of offense that would bring sudden imperial displeasure raining down and bury the Wei Duke household’s hundred-year heritage with him.

He walked at a measured pace, his thoughts turning over the recent events as he went. The business with the Feng family was a persistent concern. Setting aside the fact that Feng Chuyue currently had Kangping’s backing, there was Feng Baiyu himself — a second-place graduate of the imperial examinations, by all accounts, with a considerable reputation for his talents and a great deal of favor from Liu Zan. Word had reached him through his wife just a few days prior that Kangping had, at some earlier point, settled on Feng Baiyu as the candidate for her consort.

No wonder Kangping had been pushing so relentlessly for his second son to take Feng Chuyue as a wife.

Hmph, he thought with a cold smile. That pair of siblings truly knew how to maneuver — a humble background, yet no small measure of ambition. One had attached himself to his Wei Duke household; the other had somehow attached herself to a princess. Unfortunately for them, Kangping might lack both discernment and common sense, but his Wei Duke household was not some household that could be freely attached to. As long as he still drew breath, he would not allow a woman like that through his doors.

He had walked some distance and was now in a light sweat, not realizing he had been walking briskly. After a little more, he emerged through the Lingxiao Gate. The Xia family carriage was waiting beneath the palace walls — visible the moment he stepped out.

Xia Hongsheng paused, took the handkerchief from his sleeve, and dabbed at the perspiration on his face. Just as he was about to board the carriage, a voice behind him spoke in a lilting, insinuating tone: “My lord Duke.”

He turned — and found himself looking at a lean and swarthy middle-aged man in the robes of a seventh-rank official, with three strands of a sparse moustache. Though not particularly old, his face was so deeply lined with wrinkles it could have crushed a man.

Xia Hongsheng squinted and looked him over. Then his body gave a jolt. “You?”

The man, seeing that Xia Hongsheng had recognized him, pulled an expression that was all surface politeness with no warmth behind it, and stepped forward to bow in greeting: “My lord Duke — it has been a long time since we parted in Shu Province. Are you keeping well?”

He paused, then with an ill-intentioned smile, added one more line of courtesy: “And Second Young Master — is he well?”

Xia Hongsheng’s right eye twitched involuntarily. He fixed the man with an unblinking stare, and his gaze turned abruptly icy cold.