Yao Ying dreamed all night.

The next morning, as she combed her hair before a bronze mirror, her arms lifted gracefully as she braided her thick black hair into multiple plaits. Each braid was wound with golden threads and adorned with golden flowers and silver bells. There came several knocks at the door – Su Dangu had arrived.

He was wearing the demon-face mask again.

Yao Ying invited him in and, before he could speak, sat before him, deftly rolled up her sleeve, and extended her arm. With the movement, the silver bells on her shoulder-length braids trembled and tinkled.

“General Su, I’m much better. Time is of the essence – let’s enter the palace today.”

Seeing her eager manner, she must have been waiting for him.

Su Dangu remained silent as he placed his fingers on Yao Ying’s wrist.

His fingertips had a thin layer of calluses, rough and cold, making her shiver slightly.

Today was a clear, beautiful day. The morning sun after the snow shone on the accumulated white, casting a shimmering, brilliant halo before the corridor.

Yao Ying sat cross-legged, lost in thought. Fully conscious this time, she dared not touch Su Dangu’s mask again. Remembering her questions from before sleep last night, she asked softly, “General Su, does the Buddha’s Son also need medicine to counteract side effects?”

Su Dangu’s eyelashes trembled as he raised his eyes.

Yao Ying met his gaze. “Master Mondatiba couldn’t completely cure the Buddha’s Son. The water mang grass only temporarily suppresses his pain. He still falls ill frequently, doesn’t he?”

Before Mondatiba left the Holy City, she had gone to bid him farewell and asked about Tanmolouqie’s illness. Mondatiba had been vague, his tone regretful.

Yao Ying hadn’t thought much of it then, but now she realized Mondatiba’s regret must have been because he could only use water and mang grass to ease Tanmolouqie’s pain, not completely cure Luojia’s illness.

What illness did Tanmolouqie have? Was each time he went into seclusion because his condition was too severe for him to rise?

Mondatiba respected him greatly – why hadn’t he completely cured him, merely leaving the water mang grass prescription before returning to India?

These doubts had been circling in Yao Ying’s mind.

Su Dangu looked at Yao Ying, his jade-green eyes without rippling as he said, “The King’s ailment is a deep-seated chronic condition. Its cure cannot be achieved overnight.”

Yao Ying glanced at him.

Even though his tone was as serious as usual, she could still hear the evasion in it.

This was understandable. Tanmolouqie’s position was extremely important – the royal court ministers didn’t even know he was gravely ill. She was an outsider who knew internal affairs, yet asked so directly. Su Dangu had already shown great tolerance by not warning her off.

Su Dangu raised his head, gazing at the morning sun reflecting off the pristine snow in the courtyard.

“Why did the Princess think to ask about this?”

Yao Ying’s brows furrowed slightly as she said, “Water mang grass is highly toxic. Though it can eliminate dampness, stop pain, reduce fever, and detoxify, long-term use damages the body. The Ninglu Pills I take regularly are mixed with dried and groundwater mang grass, and I only take one pill monthly. Even with such a small dose, I still need counteracting medicine. I’ve seen the prescription Master Mondatiba wrote for the Buddha’s Son – it uses three times the amount of water mang grass as in Ninglu Pills… The Buddha’s Son’s long-term use must be damaging his foundation.”

“I previously reminded General Ashina and Yuan Jue, but I don’t know if they advised the Buddha’s Son.”

Yao Ying lifted her gaze to meet Su Dangu’s eyes.

“General Su understands medicine – a physician’s heart is compassionate. You must have cared for the Buddha’s Son and understand the dangers better than General Ashina and Yuan Jue, and can better empathize with the Buddha’s Son’s suffering when taking the counteracting medicine. The Buddha’s Son’s illness can be treated gradually – please make sure to remind him not to rely solely on water mang grass just because it can ease his pain.”

Her tone was sincere, without probing, showing only worry and concern.

Pure-hearted, clear as snow.

Su Dangu gazed outside the door, seeming to seriously consider Yao Ying’s words, and gave a sound of acknowledgment.

Yao Ying sighed and said, “It’s a pity that among the medicines I brought, I don’t have the few herbs that counteract water mang grass. Those herbs are only found in the Central Plains. I asked Old Qi and searched the marketplaces thoroughly but found nothing. If I could return to the Central Plains, I could ask a divine physician to prepare some counteracting pills for the Buddha’s Son that would reduce the damage from the water mang grass.”

Speaking of returning to the Central Plains, she immediately thought of Li Zhongqian, and worry surged in her heart, making her tone sink slightly.

Su Dangu remained silent.

Neither spoke, and the room was as quiet as still water.

The sun shone brilliantly, and melting snow dripped from the roof tiles, creating a curtain of rain before the eaves.

After a while, Su Dangu withdrew his fingers. “The Princess need not take medicine today.”

Yao Ying came back to herself, knowing this meant he agreed to enter the palace that day. She immediately called a guard and had him send word to Yang Qian.

…

Su Dangu stood and went out.

Yuan Jue respectfully approached and said softly, “Regent, everything has been arranged.”

After speaking, he lowered his head and stepped aside.

“You often accompany Princess Wenzhao to the marketplace?”

Yuan Jue had been craning his neck to peek toward Yao Ying’s room. Hearing the question, he froze, straightened his back, and answered, “Yes.”

Su Dangu, with his back to him, asked, “What does Princess Wenzhao look for in the marketplace?”

Yuan Jue thought carefully and said, “When Princess Wenzhao browses the marketplace, she goes through almost every shop one by one – cloth and brocade shops, jewelry and jade stores, horse and livestock merchants, white cotton cloth sellers… and medicine shops. The Princess visits every medicine shop, but her Hu language isn’t good, and she can’t understand the names of the medicines, so she often asks this servant to help inquire with the Hu merchants about where to buy Central Plains medicines.”

After speaking, he remembered something and couldn’t help grinning.

“The Princess also asked where to buy hawks – she wants to raise one too.”

Su Dangu suddenly stopped.

Yuan Jue immediately halted his steps.

Su Dangu turned back, his jade-green eyes behind the mask calmly sweeping over him. “Has Princess Wenzhao mentioned the water mang grass matter to you?”

Yuan Jue started, hesitated for a moment, then nodded: “The Princess has spoken to this servant about it… She said long-term use of this medicine is unsuitable and asked this servant to persuade the King…”

At first, he and Ashina Bisuo had worried Yao Ying would reveal the secret and feared she might use this secret to threaten them, so they were quite guarded around her. Later, they discovered she not only kept the secret strictly but also showed genuine concern for the Buddha’s Son’s condition, and their worried hearts were finally put at ease.

No one had asked about this, so he hadn’t actively reported it.

Yuan Jue felt he hadn’t done wrong – General Ashina had instructed that Princess Wenzhao was just a passing guest, and matters large or small concerning her need not be reported to the King. However, when Su Dangu asked, he still instinctively felt guilty, his voice getting lower and lower.

Su Dangu didn’t reproach him but stood in the corridor for a while before turning to leave.

Yuan Jue was somewhat puzzled, quietly let out a breath, and carefully followed.

…

In the afternoon, Yao Ying changed into the attire of a Gaochang noblewoman and left the courtyard with Su Dangu, arriving at the agreed meeting place with Yang Qian.

Yang Qian was tall, wearing a narrow-sleeved brocade robe with a wrapped headband and brocade boots, standing by the busy road like a crane among chickens.

Yao Ying’s face was covered with a veil. She lifted the felt curtain and gestured to him through the crowd.

Yang Qian didn’t recognize her and continued craning his neck to look through the crowd until the carriage reached him. Only then did he realize, looking at Yao Ying in the carriage with her braided hair and yellow-ground medallion-patterned robe with hawk designs and turned-down collar? He smiled, showing snow-white teeth.

“The Princess’s attire is perfect. I had prepared clothes for you but that won’t be necessary now.”

Yao Ying smiled. Lady Yina held banquets in the palace every night, and the attending nobles all wore formal dress and masks. She had inquired in advance and even prepared a mask.

Yang Qian’s gaze swept over the masked Su Dangu with his severe bearing, keenly sensing that his status was unusual and that he must be skilled in martial arts. He couldn’t help wanting to test his skills and looked a few times more.

Yao Ying didn’t want him to discover Su Dangu’s identity and stepped forward to block him from view, indicating they could depart.

Yang Qian withdrew his gaze, nodded, and said, “Once in the palace, Princess should say she’s my cousin. I have over ten female cousins, several around the Princess’s age – the palace people won’t be able to tell the difference.”

Yao Ying nodded to remember this, put on her mask, and turned back to look at Su Dangu.

The mask covered her face, showing only eyes curved like crescent moons.

Just from those eyes, one could tell she must be smiling. Her clear eyes sparkled with mirth, like scattered sunlight falling into a deep pool, creating spots of floating light.

Su Dangu silently watched her.

Yao Ying pointed to the mask on her face.

She wore a fierce yaksha demon mask, identical to his usual mask, also half blue and half red.

Su Dangu’s gaze lowered slightly as he stared at the mask on her face for a moment before stepping away.

Yao Ying couldn’t help laughing, spread her hands, and followed him with a smile.

…

At dusk, hundreds of candles were lit in the palace’s largest hall, the candelabras seeming to burn brilliantly, the candlelight as bright as day.

Curtains hung high in the hall, and a group of musicians sat cross-legged beneath them, playing in turn the pipa, konghou, bili, Qiang flute, dong xiao, small drum, and copper cymbals. The music rose in waves as dancers with slender figures performed on the felt carpets in the courtyard, their waists soft and graceful. Serving girls in light gauze robes moved back and forth, shadows numerous.

Before the hall were tables and sitting couches. A long table covered with red felt was piled with delicacies and fruits, bowls, plates, and wine cups stacked like mountains. The guests all wore formal dress and masks, some sitting, some reclining, enjoying the songs and dances, exchanging toasts, or walking about with gilt silver cups in hand, chatting and laughing. Bursts of laughter occasionally erupted from the corners.

Yao Ying followed Yang Qian into the great hall.

Seeing the palace full of music and dance, laughter, and song everywhere, Yang Qian felt both disappointed and angry, nearly tearing off his mask.

The crown prince and his sister had been sent as hostages to the Northern Rong, while Lady Yina used fine wine, delicacies, beauties, songs, and dances to numb the nobles. These people couldn’t even resist such temptations, indulging themselves in drunken revelry – how could he not be angry?

Yao Ying truly feared he might overturn the tables in his impulse and quietly reminded him: “Young Master Yang, where is King Yuchi?”

Yang Qian remembered their purpose and suppressed his anger. He led Yao Ying through the noisy hall, sent away several strong servants, passed through a quiet small path, and came to a curtained felt tent.

Yao Ying waited outside as he went in, hearing voices from within.

A moment later, a disheveled Hu woman with loose clothing walked out. Passing by Yao Ying, she deliberately left her collar unfastened, revealing snow-white skin dotted with red marks on her chest, and glared fiercely.

Yao Ying’s lips twitched slightly – clearly, this Hu woman thought she was a new companion Yang Qian had brought for Yuchi Damo.

She glanced back at the great hall, separated only by a corridor.

The dancers moved to the music while the guests’ faces glowed red. After Yang Qian brought her into the palace, Su Dangu had vanished from sight, now hidden in some corner. Though she was alone in the unfamiliar palace, knowing he must be guarding nearby meant she felt no fear.

Yang Qian lifted the tent curtain, stuck his head out, and gestured to Yao Ying.

She went in.

The tent was unlit and dim. A thick woolen carpet covered the ground, and a red-haired, brown-eyed man with unkempt facial hair reclined on a couch, wearing only a loose wide-sleeved robe. His collar was open, the sash carelessly knotted, his thin pale chest visible with just a casual glance.

Anger showed in Yang Qian’s expression as he grabbed a scattered cloak from the ground and threw it over the man, saying, “Damo, this is Princess Wenzhao.”

Yuchi Damo slowly raised his eyelids, his narrow eyes sweeping coldly over Yao Ying as he sneered: “The Princess Wenzhao whom Prince Haidu Aling is determined to have?”

Yang Qian started.

Yuchi Damo suddenly threw off the cloak and sat up, his fiery red hair falling loose, eyes slanting upward, expression gloomy.

“I was just worried about how to explain to Haidu Aling, and Princess Wenzhao delivered herself into the net. This truly comes without effort.”

As his words fell, footsteps suddenly sounded outside the tent as several guards emerged from the corners, rushing toward the tent.

Yang Qian was greatly shocked and then flew into a rage. He drew his sword and moved in front of Yao Ying, pointing the blade at Yuchi Damo as he berated him: “Damo, you informed us to Haidu Aling?!”

Yuchi Damo looked up at him, his face pale: “Fourth Brother, do you think I had any choice?”

Yang Qian laughed coldly: “You are the ruler – even if under others’ control, you should maintain a ruler’s dignity! Has one Lady Yina frightened you so? It’s bad enough that you don’t resist and bow and scrape, but why betray Princess Wenzhao?”

Yuchi Damo closed his eyes, unable to respond.

The guards from the corners gradually closed in, their long sabers glinting coldly.

In the standoff, Yao Ying suddenly clasped her hands and laughed lightly.

“The sons of the Yuchi family truly live up to their reputation.”

Yang Qian froze and turned to look at her.

Yuchi Damo raised his head, eyes narrowing, his pupils contracting.