Qin Yao was of course overjoyed to see her master and senior martial brother. She invited them into her small courtyard, first offered them fine tea, then asked in detail about how they had been.

Qing Xuzi looked somewhat weary, but was visibly in good spirits. Only when the subject of Qin Yao and Lin Xiao’s wedding date came up did he find it too soon, worrying that Qin Yao would be ill-treated, and grew a little unhappy.

Qin Yao could not tell her master about the matters concerning Xia Di and Feng Chuyue, so she said vaguely that the Emperor had set the wedding dates all at once, falling around the eleventh month — it was not only her and Lin Xiao. Qing Xuzi then said nothing more.

Qin Yao recalled the matter of the Ghost Swordsman and asked: “That young woman whose family came to the monastery on Mid-Autumn to ask for your help in searching — was she ever found? Is she truly connected to the Ghost Swordsman?”

Qing Xuzi rarely looked troubled, but now a pained expression crossed his face as he frowned and said: “These past days your senior martial brother and I have searched all of Chang’an for that Ghost Swordsman. But the thing is extraordinarily elusive — time and again the divination compass raised a warning, yet we could never locate where it was hiding, let alone find those two missing women, Madam Zhou and Miss Zhao. As of now, these two are neither seen alive nor found dead — there is not a single lead.”

Qin Yao was astonished. “I never expected that creature to be so capable of transformation despite its ordinary appearance. Last time when I went after it, the Soul-Devouring Bell had very nearly scorched it, yet it still managed to flee. Most puzzling of all is that long sword it carries — visibly much longer than an ordinary weapon. I wonder whether that wicked creature used that sword to slice off the skullcap of the half-headed ghost. And this apparition seems to come and go without form, yet the sword has form. Master, do you think it might be using some method to drive the sword to injure people remotely, rather than wielding it directly as we imagined?”

Qing Xuzi was clearly unconvinced by this. “A sword of such power ordinarily serves to suppress evil. Your master has never once seen a case where an evil creature turns it around and uses it to kill people.”

Qin Yao was undeterred and thought of another possibility. “Speaking of which, Master — last time the young heir said that the headless ghost family’s corpses were discovered at the foot of Qianren Mountain. Have you and your martial brother gone to look at Qianren Mountain? Was there anything amiss there?”

Qing Xuzi set down his teacup and said solemnly: “How could we have not gone? Have we not suffered enough from the jade corpse affair? Your martial brother and I searched every inch of Qianren Mountain inside and out — we left neither the small ponds nor the small mounds on the left and right unexamined. And yet this mountain, for all its foreboding name, is nothing more than a bare, exposed summit — plain to see at a glance, with nothing unusual about it. Beyond it is Shouhuai Mountain, where the Emperor holds his autumn hunts each year. From a great distance the Imperial Guard stands watch — we couldn’t enter.”

Upon hearing this, Qin Yao ran to her writing desk, found the map of Chang’an she had obtained from her brother some time ago, and bent over it in close study. At last, in an inconspicuous small marking in the southwestern corner of Chang’an, she found the three characters for “Qianren Mountain.”

On the map, a little further past Qianren Mountain lay Shouhuai Mountain, which, being far more towering and precipitous than Qianren, was rendered with a more prominent marking on the map.

Qin Yao’s gaze drifted slowly across the map. She located Wuwei Mountain, Wuniu Mountain, and Yuquan Mountain, and thought of the great malignant forces she had encountered over the past year. The more she looked, the more she sensed a faint connection between the various peaks.

Qing Xuzi saw Qin Yao’s brows knit together in a tight frown, saw the restless eagerness stirring in her manner, and promptly snatched the map away. “You’re a woman about to be married — stop meddling in things that aren’t your concern. For now, you stay home quietly and await your wedding. The driving out of evil and the subduing of ghosts — your master will handle all of that.”

Qing Xuzi had only given half his reason. In truth there was another cause for his opposition to Qin Yao joining in on such matters: ever since the events at Yuquan Mountain, every time he recalled how Qin Yao had nearly been dragged into the spring depths by the jade corpse, his heart had not yet recovered from the fright. Now that her wedding was imminent, he truly could not bear to see any new disturbances arise.

Qin Yao’s train of thought was broken. She pouted with displeasure, but knowing that her master meant it with all good intentions, she could not bring herself to defy him, and only said: “I won’t meddle. But Master, you and senior martial brother must take every care. I keep feeling that what has happened over the past half year is deeply unusual — I fear it is far from as simple as it appears on the surface.”

Qing Xuzi himself was well aware that something strange was afoot in Chang’an of late. He recalled how, when he had once suppressed a fox spirit, the fox had warned him that before long, a malignant demon would bring disaster upon Chang’an. He had not taken it to heart at the time. But not long afterward, the Luo Cha had suddenly appeared in the world.

In recent days, the celestial phenomena had been growing stranger with every passing day. On the night of Mid-Autumn, there had appeared a configuration of “Huohuoxin” — the planet of war dwelling in the heart of the sky — a sight unseen for a hundred years, and it filled him with dread.

Yet if he were to tell Qin Yao of all these things, knowing this child’s temperament, she would surely throw herself into the worry and work of it. With her great wedding approaching, why burden her with distractions?

A wedding ought to be a time of joy and peace.

Everything else, her master would shoulder. And that bald old monk, Yuan Jue, need not think for a moment that he would be allowed to sit idle.

He looked at Qin Yao with a stern expression. Her cheeks were rosy, her gaze bright; the pallor that had so often marked her face in the past had gradually been replaced by the healthy flush of good color, a clear sign that her constitution had made great strides in the past year.

He thought back to when this child had first been brought to Qingyun Monastery. Her small face had been gray-green, as though someone had seized her by the throat, with only a thread of breath remaining. Though it was true that when he had saved her, he had harbored the private wish of accumulating merit for another child, yet over eleven years as master and disciple, the time he had spent with Qin Yao had been more than that with her own parents. The affection he bore for this child had long since surpassed ordinary bonds of kinship. Now, watching her about to become another man’s wife — how could his heart not feel a pang of wistfulness?

A’Han had just peeled an orange for his master and brought it over. Seeing his master gazing at Qin Yao with a dim, forlorn expression, his weathered face creased with emotion and the rims of his eyes faintly reddened, A’Han was greatly puzzled. “Master, what’s wrong with your eyes? Did you get sand in them?”

Fearing that Qin Yao would see through him, Qing Xuzi hastily rose to his feet. He even forgot to brush off his Daoist robe, striding toward the door with long steps. “A’Yao, there’s still a pile of matters at the monastery. Your master won’t linger today. When the day of your coming-of-age ceremony arrives, your master and senior martial brother will come to see you again.”

Qin Yao heard her master’s voice thick with a nasal sound and felt a start in her heart. She hurried after him — but Qing Xuzi had already taken his swift steps out of the courtyard.

Qin Yao watched her master’s retreating figure. The relentless wear of years had begun to curve the spine he had held straight through a lifetime; his hair had taken on its silver frost far too early, giving him the appearance of far greater age than those of the same years. The fresh new Daoist robe hung loose and ill-fitting on his lean frame. She knew her master was always frugal, rarely willing to add to his own wardrobe — today, he must have put on new clothing especially to come and celebrate with her.

The more Qin Yao thought of it, the more her heart ached. She felt that her master seemed to have spent his whole life doing so much for so many people, yet not a single thing truly for himself. After a life of toil and labor, he still gave off an air of solitary, untethered loneliness.

A’Han, entirely oblivious to the inner feelings of both master and martial sister, clutched to his chest the packet of pastries that Qin Yao had wrapped up for him earlier and blew past her like a gust of wind, calling out as he chased after Qing Xuzi: “Master! Slow down — A’Han can barely keep up!”

Two days after the betrothal edict was issued, the academy duly reopened.

Since Qin Yao needed to remain at home and await her wedding, Madam Lu Guogong had granted her special permission to rest at home and exempted her from attending the academy.

Preparing a dowry was a matter full of details, and with Qin Yao’s coming-of-age ceremony approaching, Qu Chen Shi hardly had a moment’s rest from morning to night.

The Qu household was simple in composition and without excessive formality. Seeing how occupied her mother was, Qin Yao helped manage some of the miscellaneous tasks.

Two days before the coming-of-age ceremony, Lin Xiao sent Qin Yao a coming-of-age gift, ostensibly on behalf of Madam Lu Guogong.

The box was well over a foot in length, yet light as a feather in the hand. When Qin Yao opened it, the contents were not the pearls and jewelry commonly given to mark a coming-of-age ceremony, but rather a bundle of deed documents.

Qin Yao had never dealt with such practical affairs and naturally did not recognize these as the property deeds to several shops in the Eastern Market. She unfolded the letter Lin Xiao had enclosed for her, and found it composed in an entirely businesslike manner — setting out in clear detail the location of each shop, the name of the manager in charge, and the categories of goods each dealt in. Among them was even the deed for Fuchun Zhai, a pastry shop that she and A’Han loved. He instructed her to add all of it to her own dowry list. The gift was so valuable that Qin Yao, quite taken aback, dared not act on her own judgment, and could only gather up the box awkwardly and go find her mother.

Qu Chen Shi was also startled. She flipped through everything quickly, saw that the names on all the shop deeds had already been changed to Qin Yao’s name and each bore the official seal of the Chang’an prefectural office, and stood for quite a long while, unable to collect herself.

Although she dared not accept on Qin Yao’s behalf without first consulting Qu Enze, once the initial shock had passed, she could not help but smile. She looked at Qin Yao and said: “A’Yao, don’t think your mother is being crass. For a man to plan this carefully and thoroughly on your behalf — that is truly rare. You haven’t suffered all those hardships in your younger years for nothing. In the end, you are one who has blessings awaiting her.”

That evening, when Qu Enze and Qu Ziyu returned from the government office, Qu Chen Shi showed them the deeds Lin Xiao had sent. Men viewed things differently from women; father and son deliberated a while and both said: “The Heir of Prince Lan is a careful and deliberate man — not one given to impulsive gestures. Since he sent these to A’Yao, it is clearly a sincere intention. And rather than returning them and leaving him to feel displeased, it is better to accept.”

Seeing the whole family in unanimous agreement — even her brother raising no objection — Qin Yao accepted with a red face.

That night, lying in bed, she fished out the deed for Fuchun Zhai and held it against her chest, smiling sweetly to herself: from now on, when she took her senior martial brother to Fuchun Zhai to eat, she wouldn’t need to go waving Lin Xiao’s name around anymore.

Thinking of how meticulous Lin Xiao was in all things, always looking after her at every turn, Qin Yao found she could not sleep no matter how she tried. She simply got up, had a set of shoes and socks she had recently made for Lin Xiao sent to Prince Lan’s manor, asking Chang Rong to pass them on to Lin Xiao, and appended a letter.

The letter contained no words. Inside lay only two perfectly round, glossy red beans.