Shuangyan Lane was a famously ancient street in Chang’an. Built during the previous dynasty, it had stood for close to a hundred years. The entire lane held only two estates: the Jinghai Marquis’s manor, occupying roughly two-thirds of the space, and another property that had long stood abandoned.
The old estate, it was said, had once been the residence of a general from the previous dynasty. For reasons no one could recall, it had been sealed off at some point and left untended ever since. Not even the Jinghai Marquis’s manor, separated from it by only a single wall, had any inclination to absorb it into its holdings — they simply let it fall into ruin.
Every time Qin Yao passed this crumbling old estate, a strange feeling arose in her — a persistent sense that something was not quite right. But the compass on her person gave no indication, and when she opened her Celestial Eye, she found nothing unusual. So she could only tell herself she was being overly cautious and think no more of it.
Tonight, she had managed with considerable effort to evade the layered defenses of the Jinghai Marquis’s manor. She had just leapt up onto the parapet wall of the old estate when she spotted, far down at the end of Shuangyan Lane, a slender figure approaching from a distance.
Qin Yao startled, quickly cast her gaze all around, and found a large, thickly-leafed tree just beside the wall. She immediately crouched down and concealed herself in the tree’s shadow.
The approaching figure was plainly a woman — her steps small and light, her frame slender, wrapped in a gray, drab cloak from head to foot. Qin Yao watched through the branches for a good while, and then suddenly felt that the woman’s gait seemed familiar.
The woman made her way to the gate of the abandoned old estate, looked left and right, and then suddenly pulled back her cloak’s hood, about to push the door open and go inside.
The moon shone brilliantly clear that night, illuminating everything that should have been hidden in darkness with such silvery clarity that every detail was laid bare. The woman’s face was exposed in the moonlight, and Qin Yao’s body lurched so violently she nearly fell off the parapet — it was Feng Chuyue!
At almost the same instant, the compass needle at Qin Yao’s chest gave a sharp click and began to rotate slowly.
Feng Chuyue seemed somewhat uneasy. Though she had pushed the creaking door open, she still stood on the threshold, hesitating, not daring to step inside. She was just working up the courage to go in and lifting the hem of her skirt to step forward when, without a sound, an arm reached around her from behind and, before she could let out a startled scream, clamped tightly over her mouth.
Feng Chuyue nearly frightened herself half out of her wits. White-faced and about to struggle with all her strength, she heard a low voice at her ear. “Don’t cry out — it’s me!”
Feng Chuyue recognized the voice. Her movements halted. She gathered her courage, heart pounding, and looked back — and froze. “A’Yao?” The two syllables came out muddled and indistinct, for Qin Yao’s hand was still clamped over her mouth.
Seeing that Feng Chuyue had recognized her, Qin Yao coldly removed her hand from Feng Chuyue’s mouth.
Feng Chuyue looked at Qin Yao in bewilderment. “How did you come to be here?”
Qin Yao gave her a sidelong glance and said nothing in reply. She pulled out the compass from her bosom and looked at it — the needle was moving ever faster. Her expression shifted subtly, and she lifted her head to look warily down toward the far end of the lane.
Feng Chuyue didn’t understand what was happening and was about to speak again, but Qin Yao’s face had taken on the look of someone facing a grave threat. Without a word, she seized Feng Chuyue by the arm and darted swiftly into the abandoned old estate before them.
Inside the gate, they found themselves in a garden overgrown with wild grass, with no sign of the inner residential buildings whatsoever.
Both of them froze. Neither had expected the estate to be desolate to this degree.
Qin Yao quickly turned back and pulled the gate shut, then, with no time to take a careful look at the surroundings, grabbed Feng Chuyue and walked quickly deeper into the estate.
Feeling guilty of her own secret, Feng Chuyue grew increasingly confused at this turn of events, and asked quietly, “Where are we going?”
Qin Yao didn’t respond.
A flush of embarrassed chagrin spread over Feng Chuyue’s face. She followed close behind Qin Yao, her lips moving — she seemed to want to explain something.
The two walked for a long while, circling about, but never found any entrance to the inner residential buildings. They kept going around and around within the garden.
Qin Yao grew inwardly anxious. She looked up at the surrounding courtyard walls and was considering whether to simply vault over one when, at that very moment, the gate behind them gave a long creak and slowly swung open.
Feng Chuyue’s heart leapt into her throat and she made to look back. But Qin Yao’s expression hardened. Before Feng Chuyue could turn around, Qin Yao clamped her hand over her mouth again, and the two of them darted swiftly behind a large ancient tree nearby.
The tree’s trunk was thick — more than enough to encircle two people — and with Qin Yao and Feng Chuyue hidden behind it, anyone not looking carefully would have great difficulty spotting them.
Feng Chuyue had made it behind the tree, but her eyes still kept darting from behind it toward the gate. When she saw who had entered, her face first flushed red — then she looked at Qin Yao with a hesitant, uncertain gaze, and ultimately didn’t dare step out from behind the tree.
Seeing that she still showed no instinct for self-preservation, Qin Yao felt a surge of fierce anger inside and glared at her fiercely. Without a word, she struck Feng Chuyue’s mute acupoint. Only once Feng Chuyue had become entirely still and compliant did Qin Yao cease her movement and, quiet and breathless, look toward the person who had just entered the estate.
The person happened to be descending the steps from the veranda, and walked slowly into the courtyard.
Though she had been mentally prepared, Qin Yao’s mind still went blank for a moment when she made out the figure. She saw a man with sword-like brows and bright, star-like eyes, standing tall and straight as a pine or cypress, bathed in silver-white moonlight — as breathtakingly handsome as an immortal banished from the heavens.
The Jinghai Marquis, Qin Cheng.
Qin Yao’s expression darkened. It truly was him. Feng Chuyue stared at Qin Yao with a face full of bewilderment and confusion, unable to understand why she had suddenly been rendered unable to speak. She scratched her head and stamped her feet in silent protest, tugging at Qin Yao’s sleeve with wide round eyes.
The compass needle at Qin Yao’s chest was now spinning so fast it nearly tore through her clothes. Seeing Feng Chuyue carrying on like this, Qin Yao coldly looked down, bit open her index finger, and then, under Feng Chuyue’s astonished gaze, smeared the blood on Feng Chuyue’s forehead. She silently mouthed an incantation, opening Feng Chuyue’s Celestial Eye for her.
Feng Chuyue was thoroughly perplexed, but when Qin Yao indicated she should look outward, she had no choice but to press down her torrent of confusion and shift her gaze back toward Qin Cheng in the courtyard.
The sight made every hair on her body stand on end. It was only because Qin Yao had struck her mute acupoint that she did not let out a shriek of terror.
Clinging to Qin Cheng’s back was a woman. Her long hair half-covered her face; her appearance was ghastly pale, her chin narrow and pointed, and her eyes held not a single flicker of a living person’s warmth — yet her face in profile was clearly very beautiful.
Qin Cheng allowed that female ghost to extend a pair of thin, twig-like arms and encircle his shoulders, the two of them pressing their heads together and cheek to cheek. They looked, for all the world, like devoted lovers in an intimate embrace.
Cold sweat broke out in layers across Feng Chuyue’s back, soaking through her clothes in an instant.
Only then did she finally grasp the deeper meaning behind everything Qin Yao had done just moments before. She swallowed in terror and looked at Qin Yao, utterly at a loss, and mouthed silently: “What do we do?”
Qin Yao had already recognized at a glance that the female ghost on Qin Cheng’s back was the very same one that had broken into the Qu estate that night not long ago. She knew the ghost’s spiritual power was far beyond that of an ordinary malevolent spirit and that she would need to be fully alert in dealing with it — yet Qin Yao had come fully prepared tonight. So long as she did not underestimate her enemy as she had that first time, she should be able to avoid coming out the worse for it.
The difficult one was Qin Cheng, the Jinghai Marquis.
She had heard from her mother some time ago that Qin Cheng’s martial arts were extraordinary. In his youth, when fighting on the battlefield, he could often single-handedly cut down three hundred enemy soldiers. He was renowned for his ferocity and prowess in battle. With her own strength alone, she had no confidence she could come away unscathed from a confrontation with him.
All the more so with the helpless Feng Chuyue in tow beside her.
Her mind raced, searching inwardly for a means of escape.
Seeing Qin Yao still standing there with her head down, lost in thought and showing no sign of having a plan, Feng Chuyue felt fear compound into mounting panic amid her anxiety. She wavered uneasily for a moment, then snuck another look at Qin Cheng.
Whatever lingering fanciful feelings she had harbored for Qin Cheng were utterly gone. Her head was filled with nothing but bitter self-recrimination — she berated herself for having been so easily taken in, nearly losing her life for it. Just then, she noticed Qin Cheng making a slow circuit of the courtyard as if looking for something, and his movements seemed to signal he was about to leave. Her expression brightened and she quietly tugged at Qin Yao’s sleeve.
Qin Yao looked up — and saw Qin Cheng tilt his head slightly and murmur something to the female ghost on his shoulder, then stand still for a brief moment before turning and making his way out the gate.
Qin Yao and Feng Chuyue stayed crouched behind the tree for some time after, and seeing nothing but dead silence at the estate’s gate, with no sign of Qin Cheng returning, Qin Yao did not pause to consider whether he had truly left or was merely feigning it.
She poured her full energy into her limbs, grabbed Feng Chuyue, and leapt up to the top of the tree — then, from the treetop, bounded from branch to parapet, and quickly jumped out of the old estate.
As they fled, both of them too tense to notice anything, neither saw that beneath the very ancient tree they had been hiding behind, a faint cracking sound had begun — something was slowly breaking through the earth.
The compass in her bosom was still spinning rapidly. Qin Cheng and the female ghost had clearly not gone far. Qin Yao’s only thought was to get Feng Chuyue safely out of Shuangyan Lane so she could send up the flare and call on A’Han and Master for help.
She had no time now to look into why Feng Chuyue had become Qin Cheng’s next target. She only knew that the “Returning to Yang” ritual had strict time constraints — the five senses had to be collected within a short span of time in order to form the array and perform the rite.
Time was running out for Qin Cheng, and there was no reason he would easily let Feng Chuyue go. Most likely he would come back.
Feng Chuyue, whether out of a desperate will to survive or pure terror, was moving with far more agility than before, silently following close behind Qin Yao without a word.
Qin Yao ran for a while. She could see that they were almost out of Shuangyan Lane, and her heart eased a little. She slowed her steps and quickly drew the signal flare from her bosom, about to release the distress signal.
She had just struck the flint, when a gust of yin wind blew from behind her and extinguished the flame in her hand.
Qin Yao’s body went rigid. A profoundly ominous premonition welled up in her heart.
She quietly set down the flint, stood still for a moment, and then suddenly tore the Soul-Devouring Bell from her neck and looked back.
What she saw was the very same female ghost that had been clinging to Qin Cheng’s shoulder — somehow she had arrived directly behind Qin Yao, and was now staring at her with eyes as cold as a forest. And Feng Chuyue, who should have been right behind Qin Yao, was nowhere to be seen!
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Chang Rong and Wei Bo only wished the horse could run faster. They galloped at full speed to the palace gate and urgently sent a message in to Lin Xiao.
When Lin Xiao came out, Chang Rong reported to him the events of the night, point by point, striving not to omit a single detail.
“When we reached Shuangyan Lane, Wei Bo and I both saw it clearly — Miss Qu was moving along the eaves just fine, and then in the blink of an eye she was gone. We thought our eyes had deceived us and searched everywhere nearby, but we couldn’t find Miss Qu. Normally, given Miss Qu’s abilities, neither Wei Bo nor I would worry about her being in danger — but the female ghost that appeared at the Qu estate a few days ago was truly terrifying, and Miss Qu’s behavior these past days has been far from ordinary. That’s why we feared she may have met with some mishap.”
Lin Xiao listened calmly to the full report, took the reins Chang Rong offered him, and swiftly swung up into the saddle. “Was she alone tonight? Her Master and senior brother weren’t with her?”
Chang Rong and Wei Bo quickly mounted as well and said, “Every time Miss Qu has gone out on patrol these past few days, her senior brother has accompanied her. Tonight was the first time she went alone.”
Lin Xiao’s hand on the reins paused. His expression abruptly turned grim. He ordered Wei Bo, “Send someone to Qingyun Temple immediately to find Qing Xuzi.”
Wei Bo accepted the order and departed.
Lin Xiao was about to urge his horse forward when he seemed to recall something and turned back to look at Chang Rong. “Have you been to the Qu estate? Could A’Yao have already returned home?”
Chang Rong shook his head. “We went to the Qu estate straightaway — Miss Qu was not there.”
Lin Xiao hesitated no longer. “Summon all of Prince Lan’s manor’s guards — come to Shuangyan Lane at once and await my orders.”
Chang Rong was momentarily startled. By the time he registered the command, Lin Xiao had already shot forward like an arrow. Chang Rong quickly responded in affirmation, wheeled his horse around, and galloped off in the direction of Prince Lan’s manor.
The night was so still that Lin Xiao could almost hear the heavy sound of his own heartbeat. He recalled how, just a few days ago outside Runyu Pavilion, Qin Yao had spoken to him about the murders in Pingkang Ward — how she had suspected the cases held more twists beneath the surface, and had even believed the mastermind to be one of Chang’an’s powerful and influential figures. He could only curse himself for how half-hearted he had been at the time, never truly taking her deductions to heart. Now she had gone missing, and he had not the faintest idea where to begin looking for her.
In truth, from the very first time Qin Yao had come to him asking him to investigate the case of the singing girls in Pingkang Ward, he should not have continued putting her off in that evasive way. Whether she acted out of curiosity or a desire to see justice done — why could he not simply have accompanied her and investigated alongside her? If he had involved himself in the case earlier, given her more support and protection, things might not have come to this.
Thinking this, remorse settled into a dull ache in his chest. She was open and fearless, not one to give up easily. Once she found the culprit, she would follow the thread and chase it to the end. If she truly came to harm because of it, he feared he would spend the rest of his life in regret, with no peace.
He rode at full gallop to Shuangyan Lane. The broad street was bathed in clear moonlight, entirely devoid of people.
Lin Xiao pulled on the reins, bringing his horse to a halt. His gaze swept heavily over the two estates lining the lane. One was a century-old manor, long uninhabited and abandoned. The other was the Jinghai Marquis’s estate.
From behind him came a steady rhythm of footsteps. Chang Rong had arrived with a company of Prince Lan’s manor guards. “Young Lord, how shall we deploy?”
Lin Xiao did not answer. He slowly guided his horse forward, surveying the area for traces. When he reached the foot of the wall on the right side of the lane’s entrance, his gaze suddenly sharpened. He dismounted and crouched down, picking up something from the ground.
Chang Rong leaned over from behind to look — it was a half-burnt firestick.
“Bring a light here.” Lin Xiao did not look up as he gave the order.
Chang Rong complied. As the firelight drew close, Lin Xiao could make out on the unburned end of the firestick, faint but legible, three characters: Qingyun Temple.
Lin Xiao slowly rose to his feet. Following the spot where the firestick had fallen, he looked up along the wall — and saw before him, magnificent and imposing, a vast estate of vermillion-painted pillars and ornately carved beams.
He narrowed his eyes and said, his voice cold: “The Jinghai Marquis’s manor.”
————————————————————————————————————
Chang Rong knocked at the door for a long while before any of the Jinghai Marquis’s manor servants came to answer.
Taking in the scene at the gate, the middle-aged steward visibly stiffened. He hurried forward and said, “I am not sure what brings these gentlemen to our estate at this late hour?”
He stole a glance around and thought the young gentleman standing at the lead, radiating an air of noble distinction, looked strangely familiar — it seemed to be the Young Lord of Prince Lan’s manor.
Chang Rong produced his token. “We are under orders to apprehend a wanted criminal. Just now, as we pursued them here, we saw the fugitive slip into the Jinghai Marquis’s manor. We therefore have no choice but to trouble you. Please open the gate immediately, so that we may enter and make the arrest.”
The steward heard this and gaped in astonishment. “A criminal? A criminal has gotten into our manor?”
His words were barely out when, from behind the gate, a lean man appeared. He had cold, piercing eyes. He swept his gaze over Lin Xiao and the others and said, “Gentlemen, while the security of our manor may not match the strictness of the imperial palace’s inner sanctum, we have guards on patrol day and night without the slightest negligence. A short while ago, no signs of any intruder entering were detected. Perhaps you have been mistaken.”
Chang Rong gave a cold laugh. “Tonight’s matter is not open for negotiation. Say nothing more — go in at once and inform the Marquis. Do not delay us in apprehending a criminal of the court.”
A faint flicker crossed the guard captain’s eyes. He put on a thin, bland smile and said, “It so happens the Marquis is currently not at home. Before he left, he gave instructions that to avoid disturbing the young miss’s rest, no outsiders are to be admitted at night. If you wish to enter the manor to search, I must seek the Marquis’s directive and wait for his word before anything can be decided. At this moment, I absolutely cannot let you in.”
Hearing this, Lin Xiao, who had said not a word throughout, suddenly dismounted. He walked up the steps to the gate, placed his hand on the hilt of his sword at his waist, and said, his face expressionless: “And if I choose to enter regardless?”
The moment his words fell, the company of Prince Lan’s manor guards behind him drew their blades in unison with a clean, unified ring of steel, all eyes fixed on the guard captain in a posture of readiness.