Darkness, like thick ink, swallowed Teng Yuyi in an instant.

In that moment of falling, Teng Yuyi felt herself become like a weightless feather, drifting and swaying with the wind.

Her soul left its mortal shell, awaiting the endless netherworld beyond. But this time, she accepted it willingly, without resentment or anger.

After drifting in the netherworld for an unknown time, a faint sound emerged from behind her. The sound approached like rolling waves, growing closer and louder until it crashed over her head, forcefully pulling her upward.

With a “bang,” Teng Yuyi fell heavily into a new place.

It was a pond. The water at the bottom was bone-chillingly cold, making her whole body shiver.

Teng Yuyi drifted hazily in the water.

The cold stimulated her frozen heart, while the icy water awakened her remaining consciousness.

This scene was achingly familiar. Teng Yuyi vaguely realized that no matter how she struggled, she couldn’t escape death’s destiny. But soon, someone swam over and pulled her into their embrace. The warmth from their arms instantly dispelled the cold around her. In the murky underwater light, Teng Yuyi sensed the person was a young man. He held her and gently kissed her forehead. The gesture carried infinite tenderness, causing a sudden pain in Teng Yuyi’s heart. Then he pulled her toward the bright shore, and just as he pushed her onto land, Teng Yuyi heard him say behind her: “Don’t forget me.”

Teng Yuyi struggled to look back, but behind her was only emptiness. Then she heard urgent calls: “Yu’er, Yu’er.”

Teng Yuyi’s eyes flew open, meeting the worried gazes of her elder sister and aunt.

“Did you have another nightmare?” Du Tinglan bent down to help Teng Yuyi up.

Teng Yuyi nodded, breathing heavily. Outside the window, daylight shone brightly though the air was cold. The young maids in the courtyard were playing something, their faint laughter drifting in.

Shadows moved in the warm chamber as Chunrong and Biluo busied themselves placing silver-thread charcoal in the warming stove. The room was filled with sweet, pure rose fragrance, warm everywhere.

“It snowed last night,” Lady Du took down a fur collar from the rosewood clothes rack and draped it over Teng Yuyi, “Yangzhou rarely sees such heavy snow. Listen, those servant girls are overjoyed.”

Teng Yuyi stared blankly out the window. Without realizing it, deep winter had arrived, and soon it would be her sixteenth birthday.

Perhaps because they pitied her recent recovery from a grave illness, both families placed unusual importance on this birthday. Her aunt and uncle had specially traveled from Chang’an, and Shaotang had taken extended leave from the Imperial Academy.

The household hadn’t been this lively in a long time. She should have been happy, but Teng Yuyi felt an inexplicable emptiness in her heart.

She remembered that at the end of the second month while traveling to Chang’an with her servants, she had accidentally fallen into the Wei River. Though Duan Fu and Master Cheng rescued her, her health seemed to decline afterward.

During those six months in Chang’an, she was said to have frequently encountered evil spirits. In the fifth month, Peng Zhen of Huaixi launched his rebellion, and in the eighth month, Chang’an also suffered a great calamity.

On an inauspicious day in the eighth month, evil demons suddenly ran amok in Chang’an. Unfortunately, she had gone out to visit friends that evening and was harmed by the demons. She had nearly lost her soul completely, but Daoist Master Qingxu activated a major Daoist formation to save her.

Afterward, she remained unconscious for over three months before being sent back to Yangzhou. The illness had severely damaged her vital energy, and after recovery, she had completely forgotten her experiences in Chang’an during those months.

Besides this, she still frequently had nightmares.

Strangely, the dreams were always the same: a young man rescued her from an icy cold pond, but whenever she tried to see the young man’s face clearly, she would suddenly wake up.

After waking, her chest would always feel an inexplicable ache.

Teng Yuyi unconsciously clutched her collar, suddenly remembering her father, and asked in surprise: “Where is Father?”

Du Tinglan said softly to Teng Yuyi: “Put on your clothes first. Uncle is speaking with Father in the study.”

Teng Yuyi silently accepted the outer garment. During the campaign to suppress the Huaixi rebellion, her father had unfortunately been infected with corpse poison. Though he miraculously survived, he lost his entire left leg. When she was gravely ill, despite his own unhealed body, her father still supported himself to guard her without leaving a step.

Some days ago when she went to find her father in the study, she happened to hear a teacup crash. Her father, still unaccustomed to his physical impairment, had tried to pour tea for himself but fell to the ground.

Her father’s moment of helplessness deeply pained Teng Yuyi. Since her earliest memories, her father had always been as majestic as a god, but now even standing was so difficult for him.

She rushed in to help him up, and afterward would always accompany her father in the front courtyard. Her father showed no signs of depression, and to comfort his daughter would always say: “It’s just losing one leg. Even if I lost both legs, your father could still go to battle.”

By now, Teng Yuyi had been awake for half a month. Though her spirits were much weaker after recovery and she would often fall into a daze, she could still walk normally. As long as her father wasn’t receiving visitors, she would stay in the study to keep him company, either helping him grind ink or helping him read letters.

The weather grew increasingly cold, but when father and daughter were together, the room was always as warm as spring. Sometimes when Teng Yuyi looked up, she would often catch her father gazing at her with complex emotions.

She had seen this same look recently in her aunt’s and cousin’s eyes. She couldn’t help asking her father: “What is it?”

“My good child, don’t you remember?”

Remember what? Teng Yuyi went to the inner courtyard to ask her aunt and cousin, but they too asked hopefully: “Have you remembered something?”

Teng Yuyi was stunned.

During these months of her serious illness, it was her father and her aunt and cousin who had cared for her day and night.

When she was in Chang’an, her aunt and cousin had stayed at the Teng residence day and night.

When she returned to Yangzhou, they came to Yangzhou together.

Especially her elder sister – during her illness she couldn’t be left alone at night, so her sister would accompany her by the bed all night. After several months, she had lost considerable weight.

Thinking of this, Teng Yuyi felt deep pain. She went forward to embrace her aunt and cousin, burying her head in their necks. After a quiet moment, she suddenly said: “I remember now.”

Lady Du and Du Tinglan held their breath.

“Elder Sister was appointed as the Crown Prince’s consort,” Teng Yuyi raised her head.

It was said that the Department of State Affairs and the Ministry of Rites had already set the wedding date for the Crown Prince and her cousin, but her cousin had repeatedly missed the Empress’s banquets to focus on caring for her. The Crown Prince was not only not annoyed, but had requested the Emperor and Empress to bestow great rewards on her cousin. The Crown Prince said that Elder Sister was as pure as ice in a jade vase, a rare match in this world.

“Elder Sister, the Crown Prince is a good person. That he protects you like this shows he truly likes you.”

Du Tinglan held Teng Yuyi’s hand and looked at her with bitter pain. Lady Du carefully asked: “Besides this, you don’t remember anything else?”

Teng Yuyi’s mind was somewhat confused. She stared blankly for a while, looking out the window.

Snow fell silently. After a night, pavilions and towers stood in a glass-like world. Red plum blossoms bloomed defiantly in the snow outside the window, with a slanted branch mischievously reaching through the window.

Teng Yuyi walked to the window and raised her hand to play with the coquettish plum branch.

Just then, a figure appeared at the courtyard gate. The young man walked straight through the courtyard in the gently falling snow. Teng Yuyi looked carefully – it was her cousin Du Shaotang. He had grown much stronger in these six months, transformed from his former willowy weakness to now having the bearing of pine or cypress.

When he entered the room, Du Shaotang’s cloak and hat were covered in crystalline snowflakes.

Lady Du had someone bring over the warming stove, but Du Shaotang laughed: “Your son doesn’t need that anymore.”

His every movement showed new steadiness. After entering, he removed his cloak and hat, casually handing the steaming package he carried to a servant.

“A new pastry shop opened in Yangzhou. When your son passed by, I joined the crowd, and unexpectedly the taste was similar to Han Yueneng’s shop in Chang’an. I asked the shop owner, and indeed he was Han Yueneng’s distant relative. The owner said he stayed in Chang’an for three full years to learn the art of making these pastries before returning to Yangzhou recently. I remember Elder Sister and Cousin Yu both love cherry pastries, so I bought several portions. Mother, please try some too.”

Chunrong and Biluo served the pastries in crystal cups on the table. Du Shaotang took one portion and handed it to Teng Yuyi by the window.

Teng Yuyi tasted it – indeed, the rich fragrance spread in all directions.

Du Shaotang eagerly asked: “How’s the taste?”

Teng Yuyi nodded. Recently when her cousin came to visit her, his attitude was always unusually respectful, with the sincerity unique to young people, as if she had done something remarkable. Though Teng Yuyi didn’t understand where this “admiration” came from, she still mumbled: “It’s delicious.”

She had long forgotten what Han Yueneng’s cherry pastries tasted like, but she vaguely felt she had eaten better pastries than these. Thinking of this, her heart suddenly felt distant.

Du Shaotang happily returned to the table to chat idly with his mother and sister.

Teng Yuyi reclined on the couch by the screen, listening intermittently.

They spoke of the palace coup several months ago.

She had heard about this from her cousin and uncle when she first woke from her illness.

Later when she asked her father, he told her more details than Shaotang had. As it concerned the imperial family’s face, though Shaotang roughly knew the course of events, he knew far less than the important court officials.

Her father told her it was a devastating palace coup that nearly bloodied the palace in one night.

The patience and strategy of the Prince of Jun’an exceeded everyone’s expectations. To avoid arousing suspicion from the Emperor and Prince Cheng, he never overtly recruited forces like other conspirators. Instead, after detecting Peng Zhen’s rebellious intentions, he had his subordinates slowly gather evidence of various court officials’ secret dealings with Peng Zhen.

Peng Zhen might not have succeeded, but once he failed, this evidence would be enough to condemn entire families. The Prince of Jun’an used precisely this point to control Peng’s pieces in Chang’an one by one.

Taking the Capital Prefecture as an example, two years ago Peng Zhen had recommended a strategist named Shu Wenliang to serve as a minor official in the Capital Prefecture. This man was usually very inconspicuous, but at an opportune moment created a chance encounter, sending his beautiful niece Shu Liniang to Chief Minister Zheng.

Because everything was arranged so naturally, even Chief Minister Zheng, known as an old fox of the court, didn’t notice. But before Peng Zhen could use Shu Liniang to control Chief Minister Zheng, the Prince of Jun’an had her killed and the fetus removed. He had already collected evidence of Chief Minister Zheng’s dealings with Shu Wenliang, enough to control Chief Minister Zheng after Peng Zhen’s downfall.

Thus, this chess piece that Peng Zhen had painstakingly arranged easily fell into the Prince of Jun’an’s pocket.

“Mother, if you don’t remember Shu Liniang, you must remember that horrifying case of cutting out fetuses.”

Du Shaotang must have inquired much about the details these days, speaking of this matter with full knowledge.

“Three pregnant women died in total, Shu Liniang was one of them. She was Chief Minister Zheng’s concubine kept in an outside residence, and was several months pregnant when she died. Another victim was Song Jian’s wife, the younger Lady Jiang. Song Jian was the heir of the Baron of Rong’an. Her elder sister, the elder Lady Jiang, was known for her virtue. Before she passed away, she had associated with our family. Mother, do you remember her?”

Lady Du sighed: “How could I not remember? It wasn’t until the Court of Justice solved that case that Mother learned the elder Lady Jiang didn’t die in childbirth but was killed by her sister, the younger Lady Jiang. When Song Jian learned the truth about his wife’s murder, because he wanted the younger Lady Jiang to suffer in hell after a miserable death, he ultimately became Master Jinchen’s accomplice.”

Du Shaotang lamented: “Brother Song Jian became a general of the Northern Palace Guard in his early twenties. The Peng family had long intended to win him over. When the Rong’an Baron’s family opposed their son marrying the elder Lady Jiang, Madam Peng voluntarily went as a matchmaker. Because the Jiang family was of humble status, Madam Peng even took the initiative to recognize the elder Lady Jiang as her niece. Song Jian remained grateful to the Peng family for this. Later when the Peng family took action, Song Jian was their breakthrough point in the Northern Palace Guard. Unfortunately, before this chess piece could be useful, Master Jinchen used Song Jian’s obsession with avenging his wife to seduce him into cooperating in murder—”

Thus, this chess piece that the Peng family had planted in the Palace Guard was again controlled by the Prince of Jun’an, though later when Court of Justice officials quickly traced matters to Song Jian, the Prince of Jun’an had no choice but to have Song Jian killed to silence him.

At this point, Du Shaotang sighed deeply: “Speaking of patience and skill in plotting, how many people in the world could surpass the Prince of Jun’an? Rebellion requires vast manpower and resources, and the slightest carelessness would alert the court. The Prince simply used another wealthy conspirator to pave his way. While the Peng family labored in front, the Prince watched from behind, effortlessly claiming their chess pieces in various offices for himself. First Song Jian, then Chief Minister Zheng, and even the Peng family’s eyes and ears in the Capital Prefecture and Department of State Affairs fell under the Prince’s control. They say on the night of the military uprising, though Chief Minister Zheng and several key officials of the Department of State Affairs knew there was treachery, they had to rush to the palace gardens to distance themselves from the Peng family. But they were intercepted halfway by the Prince’s forces. The Prince of Jun’an then forced Chief Minister Zheng to write a note urgently summoning several ministers and Southern Palace Guard commanders to the Southern Palace.”

Teng Yuyi listened silently. Shaotang’s account matched closely with what her father had told her.

Her father told her that long before controlling the Southern Palace, the Prince had already set up an intricate trap to restrain both the Emperor and Prince Cheng in the palace.

Due to the flood of evil spirits into Chang’an, the Emperor’s strange illness was triggered early by the murderous energy in heaven and earth. When Prince Cheng rushed into the palace to treat the Emperor’s poison, only the Empress and Crown Prince, who knew nothing of the mystical arts, were there to protect him. Daoist Master Qingxu and Prince Cheng’s consort were trapped outside the palace fighting demons, and even Master Yuanjue couldn’t be in two places at once.

It was at this moment that the Prince of Jun’an led his troops into the forbidden palace.

The Prince’s previously planted forces in the Imperial Guard and palace gardens proved effective – one was the duty commander that night, a second-rank Imperial Forest Army officer, and the other was the Garden Superintendent.

The former was the Peng family’s second chess piece in the Imperial Guard after Song Jian, who due to his greed fell under the Prince’s control after the Peng family’s downfall. The latter, though only a fifth-rank official, carried the palace keys due to his years managing the palace flora, and his official residence was near the Dark Warrior Gate.

In other words, the Garden Superintendent could facilitate the rebels’ entry into the palace.

That night, the Prince successfully led his forces through the Imperial Garden’s south gate into the Imperial Guard headquarters at the Dark Warrior Gate, naturally using the official residence as his command center.

After breaking into the forbidden palace, the Prince of Jun’an’s forces immediately split into three groups: one surrounded the Emperor’s secret treatment location, using the pretense of protection to place the Crown Prince and Empress under house arrest.

Another led the Ten Thousand Riders Guard to attack the Gate of Manifest Virtue.

The final group was jointly led by the bought Imperial Guard commander and the Prince’s cavalry.

The two forces rushed to the Flying Cavalry Guard camp nearest to the imperial chambers, shouting “Prince Cheng Lin Xiao plots against His Majesty” and “Tonight we must unite to execute Prince Cheng’s rebel faction.” This stirred up unrest among the troops, then used evil magic to make the Forest Army soldiers unwittingly become accomplices in the Prince’s rebellion.

The Prince of Jun’an himself commanded from the Dark Warrior Gate, maintaining complete control of the palace situation.

For this rebellion, the Prince of Jun’an and the Wandering Scholar Wenqing had secretly trained eight thousand death warriors, each with exceptional martial arts skills and supernatural abilities. In desperate combat, one could fight a hundred men.

Once the royal family members in the palace gardens were captured and killed, the Prince of Jun’an would order all palace gates and capital city gates closed, then thoroughly purge the entire imperial faction.

And those court officials under house arrest in the Southern Palace would write edicts for the new emperor under the Prince’s direction. Within a day and night, Prince Cheng, Daoist Master Qingxu and others would be branded as traitors and rebels.

This grand scheme seemed flawless, but unexpectedly, the demon-subduing formation outside the palace encountered an accident.

At the critical moment, a destined person sacrificed themselves by jumping into a well, causing that night’s greatest demon, the Flying Night Yaksha, to follow.

Everyone present originally faced certain doom but was saved by that destined person’s selfless act.

Daoist Master Qingxu and Prince Cheng’s consort successfully closed the gates to the netherworld and gathered troops from outside the palace to rush in and rescue the Emperor.

That night was destined to be eternally etched in the memories of everyone inside and outside the imperial city.

The lights of Daming Palace burned through the night, with sounds of battle at the White Beast Gate and Gate of Manifest Virtue reaching to the clouds.

By morning, thousands of corpses lay inside and outside the palace gardens.

The small paths through the forbidden gardens were drenched with the blood of rebels and imperial guards.

The scarlet, steaming blood was a horrifying sight.

This was a great gamble, also a bizarre curse – every few decades, this patch of palace garden soil would be watered with fresh blood. Success or failure is often hung by a thread. Losing meant thousands would die for such ambition.

This time, it was the Prince of Jun’an’s turn to join the gamble.

He lost.

“Where is the Prince being held now?” Lady Du asked with some emotion.

“This morning I heard Uncle say he’s temporarily confined in Xingqing Palace,” Du Shaotang said. “They say the Court of Justice took four full months to thoroughly investigate all the Prince’s faction. The Emperor, mindful of how many people since the dynasty’s founding have used such occasions to fabricate false charges, feared wrongly accusing any involved party and personally oversaw the case with the Three Judicial Offices.”

“This time the court also captured Wandering Scholar Wenqing, one of the former top disciples of Wuji Temple. He had escaped the court’s pursuit years ago and had been hiding in an underground chamber in the Prince’s mansion. For years, he and Wandering Scholar Haoyue worked together openly and in secret to strategize for the Prince.”

He sighed again: “With the Prince’s meticulous planning if the demon-subduing formation outside the palace hadn’t been broken early that night, he might well have succeeded.”

At this point, Du Shaotang seemed quite moved and suddenly stopped speaking. Lady Du and Du Tinglan also turned their heads in unison.

The Prince of Jun’an had calculated everyone’s weaknesses, but failed to account for that spark of human nobility.

That spark was like a brilliant meteor streaking across the night sky, enough to illuminate a corner of the heavens.

The choice made by that destined person in their predicament ultimately reversed the situation that night.

The three looked toward the window, but unexpectedly found no one by the screen. Teng Yuyi had taken her jade flute and left the room.

Teng Yuyi stood on the corridor looking around dejectedly. Every time she heard people speak of that night of demon-subduing, her heart felt inexplicably empty.

Her father said she had also passed by that demon-subduing formation that night, and was so severely injured she nearly didn’t survive. When speaking of this, her father’s expression was just like her aunt and cousin’s just now, as if hoping these words might stir some memory in her.

But she remembered nothing at all.

Snowflakes drifted down with the wind onto the corridor. Several flakes landed on her nose tip, bringing a damp chill.

Teng Yuyi lowered her head and unexpectedly found several fresh flower petals on her collar.

She picked up the petals absently, retreated to sit on a stool to the side, then raised the jade flute to her lips and began to play softly.

Following her heart’s movement, she casually played a lively, cheerful tune.

This was a new habit Teng Yuyi had developed after recovering from her illness. Since childhood, because of her mother, she had only been devoted to the zither. Though she could play the flute, she had never been particularly skilled.

Strangely these days, whenever she felt melancholy, she would unconsciously begin playing the flute. As she played, warmth seemed to slowly fill her empty heart.

When Du Tinglan and the others heard the flute music from the corridor, they all fell into a trance.

They lifted the curtain to come out and saw Teng Yuyi in her scarlet fur coat, sitting properly in front of the courtyard playing the flute.

That flame-like red figure reflected against the pure white snow created a soul-stirring picture.

The tune was extraordinarily cheerful and free-spirited, seeming to blow away the cold in heaven and earth. Hearing it in this deep winter month was like the spring light of Chang’an in April, making people smile involuntarily.

After standing in a daze for a while, Du Tinglan stepped forward to put the warming stove in Teng Yuyi’s arms. Just then, Master Cheng came to deliver gifts: “Miss, gifts have arrived from various households. Your classmates from the Xiangxiang Academy have also sent many birthday presents. Would you like to look at them now?”

The flute music stopped abruptly. Teng Yuyi rose in confusion, nearly forgetting that the day after tomorrow would be the twenty-eighth day of the last lunar month. She quickly nodded: “Bring them to the back courtyard. I need to write reply letters to all my classmates.”

So even her classmates remembered… Lady Du and Du Tinglan exchanged bitter glances, then embraced Teng Yuyi as they entered the room: “Let’s look at them inside. With your birthday approaching, you mustn’t catch a cold now.”

***

Outside a lonely palace in Xingqing Palace.

Someone pushed open the palace doors in the sweeping snow.

Hearing this sound, the calmly seated figure in the corner finally reacted, turning to look toward the door.

Seeing the tall figure in the doorway, the Prince of Jun’an said calmly: “You’ve finally come to see me.”

He wore a white cap with yak tail decorations, clearly now a prisoner, but still maintained his elegant bearing like fine jade. However, when the Prince of Jun’an saw the visitor’s face, his expression suddenly changed. Lin Chengyou’s face was bound with a vermillion cloth, making his complexion appear somewhat paler than usual.

“Your eyes—”

Lin Chengyou turned his head to speak to those behind him: “You go first. Elder Brother will return on his own later.”

Juesheng and Qizhi acknowledged.

But the two didn’t leave, instead walking to the side of the steps and sitting cross-legged. In the winter night, this place had a clear, desolate feeling. The two reached out to catch the snow falling like down before them, but their ears remained alert to the sounds behind.

In the hall, the Prince of Jun’an watched Lin Chengyou approach.

Lin Chengyou navigated by sound, quickly walking to the table’s edge, but lacking proper aim, accidentally knocked over a spring stool.

This sound was particularly jarring in the empty palace. Juesheng and Qizhi dared not make a sound, but the palace servants outside hurried over with small steps: “Young Master, Young Master!”

Lin Chengyou: “Get out.”

The outside quickly returned to silence.

Lin Chengyou bent down to feel for and retrieve the spring stool, casually lifting his robe to sit down. On the surface, he appeared no different from others, but his movements were slower than usual.

Ripples appeared in the Prince of Jun’an’s eyes.

“Has the Gu poison in your body activated?”

Lin Chengyou turned his face toward the Prince of Jun’an’s direction.

“Did you forcefully use evil magic to call back Miss Teng’s soul?”

Still no response.

The Prince of Jun’an gazed at Lin Chengyou for a long time, then slowly spoke: “Though the Heartbreak Gu is called ‘heartbreak,’ it will never harm the fundamentals as long as the host doesn’t fall in love. But once the host develops feelings for a woman, the Gu worm splits in two. One worm travels up along the heart meridian, causing blindness within a year or two. If during this time one encounters something deeply heartbreaking or exhausts great mental energy in casting spells, it will activate early, not only causing permanent blindness but also making one especially sensitive to wind and light. It seems yours has been activated. Where is Miss Teng? Does she still remember you?”

Lin Chengyou remained silent.

“She’s forgotten you?”

The Prince of Jun’an’s deep eyes seemed able to see into the depths of one’s heart. He nodded in understanding: “It seems you and Miss Teng had intimate contact.”

Lin Chengyou’s face remained impassive, but his ears reddened almost imperceptibly.

The Prince of Jun’an smiled slightly: “This Gu was created a hundred years ago by an evil practitioner called Wandering Scholar Buzheng, combining talisman and Gu arts to perfection. Having suffered from love himself, he wanted everyone in the world to taste his suffering. Once someone infected with the Gu becomes intimate with their loved one, one of the Gu worms will transfer through their lips into the other person’s body, day by day suppressing their loved one’s mind.”

The hall was so quiet a falling needle could be heard.

“At this point, you must not forcefully remind Miss Teng. This Gu worm is transferred from your body – if you mention the original host in front of her, the Gu worm in her body will respond. When the Gu poison is released, it will certainly damage the fundamentals. She will either become blind like you or have her mind permanently damaged by the Gu worm. This point, Daoist Master Qingxu must have anticipated.”

Lin Chengyou tilted his head slightly, either listening or thinking.

The Prince of Jun’an gently brushed his sleeve, sighing: “All you can do now is wait – wait until one day Miss Teng remembers you on her own and actively seeks you out. But I hear the Heartbreak Gu is tyrannical, with very few people ever breaking free of it. Only the deepest love and most bone-deep yearning can overcome the Gu worm. In Wandering Scholar Buzheng’s mind, this world is full of unrequited love, with mutual love being rare. Unless Miss Teng had already fallen in love with you, and her feelings for you were carved into her bones, otherwise—”

Lin Chengyou could only wait endlessly.

Not just budding feelings, not just occasional thoughts, but “carved into bones.”

For these four words, Lin Chengyou himself dared not risk it lightly.

The hall fell silent again. The palace lanterns’ light enveloped the great hall, casting half-light, half-shadow over both their faces.

Outside the hall, the north wind rose, carrying snow particles that pattered against the window frames.

Usually during the last lunar month, Xingqing Palace and Daming Palace would be extraordinarily lively, but tonight was remarkably desolate.

The two listened to the wind and snow outside, neither speaking for a time. After a long while, Lin Chengyou finally moved, taking something from his sleeve and covering it with his palm on the table.

“I didn’t come tonight to ask about breaking the gu curse, nor to reminisce. I came on my father’s orders to bring you something, and to verify several matters with you.” Lin Chengyou spoke toward the Prince of Jun’an’s direction.

Then, he slowly removed his palm.

Lin Chengyou’s gesture was so solemn that the Prince of Jun’an couldn’t help but move his eyes to look. It was a small piece of note paper, somewhat crumpled in the lamplight.

The paper was blank, but Lin Chengyou said: “This was stuck to his boot sole with paste by Director Yan before his death, with four characters: ‘Minshan Yan Si.'”

“‘Yan Si’ was Director Yan’s relative from Minshan. Last year Yan Si came to Chang’an looking for work and stayed at Director Yan’s home for some time. Once when drunk, he accidentally collided with a noble person’s carriage at a quiet alley corner—that noble person was you.”

The Prince of Jun’an listened quietly.

“Director Yan mentioned this incident to me once. He said you were gracious to commoners and consistent in private, not only not blaming Yan Si but having someone help him to the roadside. But shortly before the incident, when Yan Si came to Chang’an again, during casual conversation Director Yan happened to learn that the collision occurred in E’er Alley. That alley was home to a Yangzhou merchant-scholar named Wang Jiuen, whom Director Yan and I had recently discovered was in league with Lu Zhao’an and Master Jinchen.”

“Yan Si insisted he met you in E’er Alley. At that time only three households lived in that alley. Director Yan began suspecting you of this. Afterward, he started investigating whether you were still at the banquet when Lu Zhao’an left the Duke of Ying’s mansion. Though he was very careful, it still brought deadly disaster. He dared not be certain you were the killer, and feared leaving too obvious clues would be immediately destroyed by your subordinates, so he could only remind me in this extremely subtle way.”

Lin Chengyou fingered the incomplete note paper. These four short characters were both physical and testimonial evidence, as well as a clear “roadmap.” Following up afterward, he quickly traced all of Director Yan’s movements before his death. The day he was killed, Director Yan had just left the Duke of Ying’s mansion, which the steward and servants could all testify to. Though these clues would not be enough to convict later, they at least lit the way forward for the investigation like a bright lamp.

“Why wouldn’t you spare Director Yan?” Lin Chengyou’s face was expressionless.

They both knew clearly that by that point, whatever clues Director Yan had discovered were irrelevant. Everything was already prepared, with the uprising just seven days away. The Prince of Jun’an had planned each step meticulously, even calculating that the Emperor would fall ill early due to the accumulated murderous energy in Chang’an.

The Prince’s advisors, Wandering Scholar Haoyue and Wandering Scholar Wenqing, were both top disciples of the Wuji Sect, which excelled at using evil arts to observe subtle omens in celestial phenomena—a skill no other Daoist sect could match.

Months earlier, Wandering Scholar Haoyue had seen that Chang’an harbored someone destined to carry heavenly murderous energy. She predicted Chang’an would suffer a great calamity, and that the Emperor’s strange illness arose from the great murderous entity “Female Star.” If the murderous energy continued accumulating, it might trigger the Emperor’s residual poison early.

The Prince of Jun’an simply used this to set his uprising plan. This gambit sought victory through danger, but if successful, would overturn heaven and earth.

“You held winning cards, while Director Yan was alone and powerless. With such thin evidence, he could not prove your rebellious intentions. So why wouldn’t you spare him?”

“Haven’t you already known the answer?” The Prince of Jun’an smiled. “If I didn’t kill him, how could I buy time? That night I deliberately had Director Yan die under the Daoist Master’s nose, precisely to make you mistakenly think we were rushing to silence him.”

He not only had poison administered to Director Yan but also took one of his hun and po souls. Without immediate ritual to call back Director Yan’s soul, he would lose even the chance to reincarnate. By then, Master Qingxu and the Princess Consort had detected holes in the city. If they searched through the night, they might find the netherworld’s exit early, preventing him from using that well to restrain the Daoist Master and Princess Consort on the inauspicious night when the Emperor’s condition worsened.

If everyone in this world has weaknesses, then the Daoist Master and Princess Consort’s weakness was being too principled. Principles can sometimes bind one’s hands and feet like shackles. As he expected, they indeed softened their hearts.

Just to call back this young official’s soul, Master Qingxu spent a full day and night performing rituals. In this day and night, the Daoist Master missed the best opportunity to seal the gates of hell.

“This was a gamble that couldn’t allow the slightest mistake. To last until that day, what did it matter to kill a few more Directors Li or Liu?”

Lin Chengyou “gazed” ahead, just as he used to examine every suspect’s expression when investigating cases.

But this time there was only darkness before his eyes, and beside him, there was no longer that diligent, responsible Elder Brother Yan who never made mistakes when writing case files.

Lin Chengyou’s heart felt as if pierced by countless needles, suddenly stabbing with pain.

“His surname was Yan, called Yan Wanchun!” He sharply interrupted the Prince of Jun’an. “From Minshan, twenty-eight years old, passed the imperial examinations in the thirteenth year of Longyuan, had a wife but no children yet. He, Yan Wanchun—was not just some minor official of the Court of Justice. Like you and me, he had a name and surname, flesh and blood!”

By the end, his voice was harsh with emotion.

The Prince of Jun’an was stunned.

Lin Chengyou’s words echoed in the empty great hall, each sentence striking at the heart.

After a moment of silence, the Prince of Jun’an’s expression rippled slightly. He slowly shook his sleeves and stood up, looking around: “Look at this palace. No matter how vast the halls, and how exquisite the arrangements are, it’s still just a gilded cage—this is the fate of losers. From the day I began plotting, I knew there was no turning back. I told myself: that there could not be the slightest error. One life in exchange for a certain victory—what would you have done? The only blame is that you were too close to this colleague—”

Lin Chengyou’s fingers curled slightly. If Director Yan’s relationship with him had been ordinary, the Prince of Jun’an would have struggled to use Director Yan to delay his master and parents. The closer Elder Brother Yan was to him, the more he had to die.

Lin Chengyou began to laugh softly, the sound at first barely audible, gradually becoming uncontrollable.

After quite a while, Lin Chengyou finally managed to stop laughing, but his voice was full of sarcasm: “Close? Could it compare to how I treated Uncle Prince?”

The Prince of Jun’an’s steps faltered.

“Yes.” Lin Chengyou nodded self-mockingly. “If it were anyone else, I would have grown suspicious when the tree demon caused trouble at Purple Cloud Tower. Remember that night when I was interrogating the tree demon about who had transformed it, it was suddenly struck back to its original form by a strange lightning—that wasn’t strange lightning, but the Light Seal specifically used to subdue demons. But because of the tree demon, Uncle and many officials had evacuated in time, leaving only a few people in the tower that night. While I was catching demons in the back tower, you were overseeing the front. I should have realized early on that only someone who knew me inside and out could successfully prevent me from finding the next clue time after time.”

“The day Young Master Hu Jizhen died, you and Lu Zhao’an were both at the Duke of Ying’s banquet… Naizhong appeared at Yuzhen Daoist Nunnery, and your forces entered right after… Your subordinates deliberately wound through several alleys when escaping to confuse the trail. Later when traced to E’er Alley, the location barely made sense, but from how quickly that person appeared, I knew their hideout was nearby. And your Prince’s mansion was only separated from Yuzhen Daoist Nunnery by one wall. That day the situation was urgent, and you had to resort to desperate measures to warn the Master not to show any tells—that was your biggest slip so far—”

“All these traces, because I trusted in you, I dismissed them all.”

Lin Chengyou suddenly fell silent. The hall was quiet as a tomb, just like his current state of mind. Trust, like a tall building, cannot be built in a day.

“I remember when I was young, I didn’t often see Uncle Prince. When I was seven and fell from a horse, it was my Uncle who ran over to catch me. You were only ten yourself then and broke your arm too. From that time on, I knew my young Uncle Prince was a good person.” Lin Chengyou said sarcastically, “I never knew when Uncle Prince became so ruthless!”

The Prince of Jun’an remained calm and unruffled as if these words could not stir the slightest ripple in his heart.

“If I were truly ruthless enough,” he sighed, “I would have found a way to eliminate you months ago when you began investigating me. Over the past year, you repeatedly foiled my plans. I carefully set up schemes to deal with one of the Peng family’s eyes in Chang’an, Zhuang Mu, but you immediately saw that Zhuang Mu had been framed. I painstakingly controlled Song Jian and Chief Minister Zheng, but you traced the trail to discover that Master Jinchen was Wandering Scholar Haoyue from years ago. I had finally gotten a grip on Wu Qi, who desperately wanted to become Crown Princess, but you used her to set a trap to catch Lu Zhao’an and Madame Wang. I planned meticulously, you pursued relentlessly. If not for repeated setbacks, I wouldn’t have lost so many forces; if not for fear of accidents, why would I need to make use of the murderous energy between heaven and earth?”

Lin Chengyou suddenly laughed sharply: “Speaking of Wu Qi, I almost forgot—you calculated everything, not even sparing our marriage arrangements. You should know how Qi treated you, but for the sake of controlling the Eastern Palace later, even knowing Wu Qi’s burning ambition, you still helped her become Crown Princess. That day when you suddenly brought up marriage before the Emperor, was it to force me to quickly propose to Teng Yuyi?”

Faced with Lin Chengyou’s questioning, the Prince of Jun’an clasped his hands behind his back and lifted his head. His expression was as tranquil and unashamed as if having a casual conversation with Lin Chengyou.

“Think about it,” he turned his head to look calmly at Lin Chengyou. “If we could use a destined person to entangle Prince Cheng’s mansion and Qingyun Temple on the night of the uprising, it would add to our chances of success. By then we had almost confirmed that Miss Teng carried destiny’s burden. Next, I needed to confirm Miss Teng’s importance in your heart. One test revealed more than I expected—you cared for her even more than I thought.”

Lin Chengyou laughed slightly, a laugh containing not only anger but also some tragic meaning.

“But if I haven’t guessed wrong, you initially planned your marriage to Teng Yuyi.”

The air froze, and the Prince of Jun’an stopped walking.

“On the night of my birthday, Teng Yuyi went to Zhixu Pavilion in the Western Garden especially to bring me the purple jade saddle, and you happened to be nearby. With no one else around, you met her, and when leaving you kindly reminded her that her fragrance pouch had fallen. This scene, in others’ eyes, could easily cause misunderstanding. I thought it was a coincidence, but thinking carefully now, Uncle Prince, you’ve always been exceptionally clever—when you don’t want to be misunderstood, you never give people cause to gossip. So that night, you were deliberately trying to make me misunderstand that you and Miss Teng had something between you, to make me give up thoughts of her from then on.”

The Prince of Jun’an said frankly: “I did have such thoughts at that time, for no other reason than that her father was Teng Shao. If I could successfully marry Teng Yuyi, when I took advantage of chaos to rebel later, it would be difficult for Teng Shao’s Ocean-Guarding Army not to be used by me. Unfortunately, Miss Teng was not easy to control, and she was a destined person. After learning she frequently attracted evil spirits, I completely abandoned this idea. Once the netherworld well opened, such destined people would be the biggest targets attracting murderous entities. Rather than waste effort trying to win her favor, why not make use of this point?”

Lin Chengyou’s heart was pierced again, and he laughed sarcastically once more: “Too bad that for all your calculations, you couldn’t calculate that Teng Yuyi would ultimately cause your failure.”

That figure who jumped into the netherworld well was the biggest unexpected factor in the entire game. Both fell silent simultaneously. Outside the window, snow and wind raged, the wind making the window frames rattle loudly. That vast wind seemed able to swallow all things between heaven and earth. That night when demons ran amok, Chang’an was also in such darkness and chaos. After a moment of regret, the Prince of Jun’an sighed deeply: “In this world, the hardest thing to calculate is the human heart…”

This sigh contained regret and melancholy, but notably lacked remorse.

Lin Chengyou’s expression became strange. The person standing before him seemed not a living being but an unmelting mountain of ice.

When the heart is wounded to the extreme, it creates a sense of absurdity. To confirm this wasn’t a dream, he stretched out his right hand, groping forward.

“Do you hate my parents so much?” After a pause, Lin Chengyou withdrew his hand, tilting his head to confirm the Prince of Jun’an’s position. “That night when Wandering Scholar Haoyue failed, you risked exposing yourself by sending over thirty secret guards to seize her soul. That you would do so much for an outsider shows you’re not completely heartless, yet you were especially cruel to my parents and the Emperor. I remember you got along well with them these past years—when did you develop such deep hatred for them?”

The Prince of Jun’an continued to stroll idly through the hall, showing no intention of responding.

“Because of Lady Cui?”

At these words, the Prince of Jun’an seemed struck in a painful spot, turning his head to reveal a mocking expression.

“I remember Lady Cui was always confined in the old mansion in the South City. When I was young, I sneakily went to see her out of curiosity, but was caught by Grandfather’s men before even entering—”

The Prince of Jun’an’s gaze turned cold, suddenly interrupting Lin Chengyou: “There’s too much you don’t know!”

In that brief instant, he became so severe he seemed like a different person.

“You are the son of glory, I am the twilight wanderer. Of what happened these past years, how much do you know?” The Prince of Jun’an sneered. “Speaking of your horse fall at age seven, you remember that I was injured with you, but you probably don’t know that during my recovery, only your parents came to visit me. Your grandfather, my father the Prince, never once came to see me from beginning to end.”

Lin Chengyou’s words were like a sharp blade, suddenly cutting through the layers of disguise the Prince had worn for years. He still stood in place, but his whole being was like a lake concealing shocking waves, no longer able to maintain a calm appearance.

He laughed coldly: “You only know you rarely saw me in childhood, but do you know I was thrown into a separate courtyard at age two? While you all enjoyed family happiness, my only companions were my wet nurse and servants.”

“I was like a mark of shame in my father’s heart, thrown far away. He never came to see me, nor allowed me to pay respects at the Prince of Lan’s mansion. Except for major festivals, I wasn’t allowed to go outside. When you and the Crown Prince began studies at Chongwen Hall, I didn’t even know where the Imperial Academy’s gate was. To avoid meeting me, Father only invited various masters to teach me in the separate courtyard. I was young then and didn’t understand why Father suddenly despised me so much. Only when I grew older did I understand it was all because my mother had made a mistake. Father wouldn’t divorce her to save the royal family’s face, only keeping her confined in another place year-round. I wanted to visit Mother but couldn’t even enter the gate. I begged my elder brother for help, but he stood by and did nothing.”

At this point, he looked back coldly at Lin Chengyou: “Is this what’s called family affection? Thinner than water, colder than ice. From that time I knew your father’s benevolence was all false—he was truly cold and heartless!”

How ironic that the first ones to take him to see his mother were two great villains—Wandering Scholar Haoyue and Wandering Scholar Wenqing. They had broken into that separate courtyard to hide from the court’s pursuit, hiding for several months. One night after several months, young Minlang discovered their traces by sound.

Haoyue and Wenqing were very surprised then, saying this child had the best hearing they’d ever encountered. How could they know it was because he could only play music alone when lonely, and over time his hearing naturally became much keener than others? The world said his ability to distinguish music and rhythm was unmatched in the world, not knowing it was practiced through countless lonely nights.

“I lived in the separate courtyard until age six, making my first friends in life,” the Prince of Jun’an said self-mockingly. “To survive, Wenqing and Haoyue found various ways to please me. They taught me martial arts, taught me mystical arts, and even taught me how to hide my martial arts and inner power in front of others. Learning I wanted to see my mother, they risked discovery to take me over walls at midnight. The world says they were villains who committed every evil, but in my heart, they were a hundred times more loyal than ‘good people’ like your father.”

“That’s because they wanted to use you to take revenge on the Emperor,” Lin Chengyou said coldly. “The Wuji Sect harmed countless people. They were the chief criminals—without your protection, they would have been thrown in prison long ago.”

“So what?” the Prince of Jun’an said harshly. “When I was most lonely, where were those good people? Haoyue aside, Wenqing lived in my underground chamber for fifteen years. They never asked why I lived alone in the separate courtyard, never gossiped behind my back about whether I was an ‘illegitimate child.’ Only in front of them could I freely be myself. I thought of Mother’s Day and Night, but no one around me would help. If not for Wenqing and Haoyue appearing, I might not have seen her until before she died.”

Mentioning his mother, the Prince of Jun’an’s expression became bitter and twisted.

Before seeing his mother, his feelings toward her were extremely complex. True, he deeply missed her. In a child’s heart, no one could replace the role of mother. Though mother and son were forced to separate early, he vaguely remembered how she would intimately call him “Minlang.”

But he also hated her.

He was too young to understand who had caused all this. Thinking it over, he could only blame his mother—if she hadn’t made mistakes originally, mother and son wouldn’t have been separated.

However, these various indescribable complex emotions were all drowned by wild joy and longing the moment he saw her.

Mother was overjoyed, holding him in her arms and crying uncontrollably. He sobbed in his mother’s embrace for part of the night, only taken away by Haoyue and Wenqing near dawn.

When he was older, Mother told him: she had never betrayed his father the Prince, it was all a frame-up by the eldest son Lin Xiao. She had only met privately a few times with that old family friend named Zeng Nanqin, never having an affair from beginning to end. The reason Father treated him coldly was because he suspected he was Zeng Nanqin’s illegitimate son. If only they could prove she had no relationship with Zeng Nanqin back then, Father would have treated him as well as before.

More than this, Lin Min hoped Mother could return to the Prince of Lan’s mansion, but because of Mother’s words, he began searching for the truth.

“This investigation took nearly ten years. Never mind that the incident was several years past—even if recently happened, how could one prove a woman and man had no affair? But I firmly believed Mother wouldn’t lie to me again. By age sixteen, my wings had grown stronger. After Wandering Scholar Haoyue replaced Master Jinchen to take over Yuzhen Daoist Nunnery, she had access to large sums of money, while I used the annual allowance allocated to the separate courtyard from the Prince of Lan’s mansion to secretly nurture my forces with Haoyue and Wenqing’s help. That same year, I found a survivor from when the Jade Corpse caused havoc. This person named Chunqiao was imprisoned in the Court of Justice’s death row. She couldn’t remember who was on the mountain but recognized Zeng Nanqin’s portrait. She said she heard him tell the Jade Corpse he was a virgin male—before the Jade Corpse, no one dared lie. Chunqiao also said Lin Xiao and Qu Qinyao were on the mountain then and could testify to this.”

The Prince of Jun’an’s face grew dark as if about to rain: “Only at that moment did I realize my elder brother and sister-in-law had known the truth all along. But all these years they not only let Father doubt my bloodline but let all of Chang’an gossip behind my back about me being an ‘illegitimate child.’ I know Elder Brother never much liked me because of my mother, but even though Father wouldn’t let them see me, they still regularly sent clothes and food. For this care, I only ever felt grateful toward them without a trace of hatred—until learning the truth, I finally knew they were more hypocritical and disgusting than all the demons in the world!”

That day he excitedly brought all he had discovered to see Father at the Prince of Lan’s mansion. Father was elderly and bedridden. Seeing the various evidence his younger son presented, he merely waved his hand lightly.

“Go away.”

Lin Min felt as if doused with a bucket of cold water, suddenly frozen beside the bed. Father had seen all this evidence, why was he still so cold toward him?

Then he heard Father order his Elder Brother and Sister-in-law to enter. In that instant he completely understood—it was because Elder Brother had testified that Mother had an “affair” with Zeng Nanqin that Mother ended up in her current situation.

Perhaps Elder Brother had recently shown Father more evidence, so Father wouldn’t believe him and Mother. After all, compared to the younger son he had always despised, Father naturally preferred to believe the elder son’s words.

His efforts became a joke.

“Not long after that, Father died of illness. Mother’s body had long since broken down from years of confinement. She had only endured for so long hoping that one day my situation might improve. Hearing that Father never forgave her until death, she also passed away in grief.” Lin Min’s tone was as hard as iron. “You ask why I’m cold and heartless toward your parents—why not ask why they had not a trace of compassion for me? My mother bore a lifetime of stigma, dragging me down with her into the mire, and all this was thanks to your father!”

Since childhood his hearing was exceptional—wherever he went, he could always hear those noble ladies quietly gossiping behind his back: “He’s a good person, it’s just a pity he has such a mother.”

“Whether he’s the old Prince’s flesh and blood is hard to say.”

These words were like poison-tipped arrows, piercing his chest again and again.

“I knew very early on that my situation was completely different from yours. Your parents appeared close to me on the surface, but it was all false. Master Qingxu would either beat or scold you all but was extremely polite to me. The Emperor and Empress Liu claimed they treated us equally, but when it came to marriage arrangements, they chose either descendants of the Wang, Zheng, Deng, and Wu families for you all, or princesses of powerful foreign states. When choosing for me it was always daughters of low-ranking officials and local nobles. I was long sick of all this hypocrisy and affectation.” Lin Min suddenly laughed, though his laughter was colder than the wind and snow outside. “No one would stand up to explain everything from back then, no one would loudly tell the world my mother never betrayed my father. I knew clearer than anyone—to silence these people unless I alone controlled Chang’an! I almost succeeded—”

He looked fiercely at Lin Chengyou, his handsome face full of regret.

“At this point, what I regret most isn’t failing, but that on the night of the uprising, with so many dead, your parents somehow escaped!”

That vicious expression made him look completely different from usual.

In the vast palace hall, for a moment only the Prince of Jun’an’s rough breathing could be heard.

In this suffocating silence, Lin Chengyou was quiet for a while, slowly taking out a small pouch from his embrace and placing it on the table: “Before coming, Father instructed me to bring these things to you. On top is the memorial he submitted to the Emperor requesting your appointment as ‘Prince of Jun’an.’ The rest are some embroidery your mother did in her maiden days and some letters she wrote.”

Lin Min had no reaction hearing the first sentence, but started slightly at the last sentence, quickly walking to the table to pick up and examine them.

Seeing the words in the letters, an expression mixing shame and shock flashed across his face.

“Back then your mother confided in letters to close friends about her heart’s affairs, saying she had long admired a young gentleman, but unfortunately that gentleman was of too noble birth and had never properly looked at her. She suffered greatly for this, and to ease her longing, secretly made many embroidered items for that gentleman. She never sent any of these letters, keeping all the embroidery hidden in her maiden chamber. At that time, your mother was originally betrothed to her cousin Zeng Nanqin but suddenly broke off the engagement without reason, and shortly after married into the Prince of Lan’s mansion as a secondary wife under the Cui family name. After your mother married, Zeng Nanqin grew increasingly resentful and snuck into your mother’s maiden chamber intending to retrieve the love tokens he had given her. Instead, he accidentally found these letters and embroidery. Only then did he understand that your mother’s willingness to become someone’s secondary wife wasn’t solely for the Prince of Lan mansion’s wealth and status—there was another reason.”

Lin Min stared fixedly at the embroidery. Those clear eyes seemed about to weep blood. On every piece of embroidery, without exception, was stitched the character “Xiao.”

“Though my father strongly disliked your mother, out of pity for you, he had long ago told Grandfather about the circumstances of fighting the Jade Corpse on the mountain that day. Grandfather’s cold treatment of you and your mother wasn’t because he doubted you were his son but for another reason. To clear himself of any relationship with Lady Cui, Zeng Nanqin had someone pass these items to Grandfather from prison. Only then did Grandfather understand Lady Cui’s original intention in marrying into the Prince of Lan’s mansion. Perhaps feeling deeply humiliated, before his death Grandfather was not only cold to Lady Cui and her son, but also distant from my father. With your perceptiveness, you should have noticed this somewhat back then.”

“After Father married, he took Mother to live in Prince Cheng’s mansion, while Grandfather stayed alone in the Prince of Lan’s mansion. To avoid seeing my father, Grandfather wouldn’t even let my parents pay respects at the Prince of Lan’s mansion. Because of this, I rarely dared visit Grandfather, being closer to Master since childhood—in his later years, Grandfather was as unhappy as you and your mother. Grandfather was tormented by inner demons for a long time, only finding peace before death. He deeply regretted treating you coldly because of Lady Cui, so he wrote that memorial requesting your appointment as prince, saying he wished to leave all his fiefs and territories to his younger son. He also asked the Emperor to exchange the Prince of Lan’s mansion for a new residence for your princedom. That’s why you were appointed Prince of Jun’an at sixteen, with territories far exceeding historical royal titles. To silence gossip, Uncle and Father repeatedly emphasized this was Grandfather’s dying wish before all court officials on the day the edict was issued.”

Unfortunately, Lady Cui had been confined for so many years that those unspeakable rumors had long spread to every corner of Chang’an. A mere title could change nothing—whether as Lin Min or the Prince of Jun’an, he could never escape these rumors throughout his life.

And once the seeds of hatred took root in his heart, the royal family’s belated remedies naturally all became mere pretense in Lin Min’s eyes.

After these words were spoken, the surroundings became extraordinarily quiet. In the great hall, something seemed to have collapsed with a crash. Lin Chengyou couldn’t see, could only quietly listen and feel.

It was an almost frenzied emotion, powerful enough to shock and affect even those at arm’s length.

After a period of silence, Lin Chengyou slowly stood, leaving those old items on the table, following the sound to walk out.

Suddenly he heard a “rip” from behind, like paper being torn to pieces.

Another rip followed, so decisive, so urgent as if desperately trying to deny something. One after another, endlessly—clearly, the letters and fabrics on the table were being viciously torn apart one by one.

Lin Chengyou only paused briefly before continuing forward.

But the sound suddenly stopped, replaced by Lin Min’s muffled laughter from behind—strange, twisted laughter, maniacal and uncontrollable.

In the quiet vast hall, that laughter full of humiliation kept echoing, growing louder, more piercing to the heart and ears.

Lin Chengyou couldn’t help stopping his steps.

Lin Min laughed brokenly, forcing words through gritted teeth with bitter hatred: “…you even deceived me… Mother… my whole life… my whole life… was worthless!!”

Lin Chengyou’s heart ached. Love and hate, in this moment, all became empty. Pushing open the hall doors, snowflakes flew into his face. The roaring sound of wind and snow instantly drowned out the painful, maniacal laughter from the great hall.

In the vast space between heaven and earth, only the snowflakes remained pure as ever. Lin Chengyou didn’t linger, walking straight down the steps. The bone-chilling cold air brushing his face seemed able to cleanse one’s inner being. With his eyes blind and the sound of wind and snow affecting his judgment, he stumbled every few steps. Footsteps followed behind him constantly, but no one dared come forward to help him.

After another trip, Lin Chengyou allowed himself to fall sitting.

“I’m tired, let me rest,” he turned his head to speak to those behind him. “It’s too cold, don’t follow me around. Go warm yourselves at Xianju Pavilion first. I know the way, I’ll come find you later.”

Juesheng and Qizhi didn’t dare speak. Anyone could see their Elder Brother’s terrible mood. A eunuch came forward to drape the cloak he’d been holding over Lin Chengyou. Before leaving, out of habit he was about to leave a lamp. Lin Chengyou seemed to guess what they were doing and added: “What’s the use of leaving a lamp? I can’t see anyway.”

Their faces darkened as they quietly walked away carrying the lanterns.

After sitting quietly in darkness for a long while, Lin Chengyou’s tightly knitted brows relaxed slightly. He lifted his head to gaze south for a moment, though there wasn’t the slightest light before his eyes.

He smiled self-mockingly, taking a jade flute from his waist and raising it to his lips to play. Just then, something quietly approached in the darkness.

Lin Chengyou lowered the flute to sense for a moment, feeling it was a harmless wandering soul, and waved his hand indicating it should leave.

But the wandering soul insisted on staying by his side. Lin Chengyou suddenly realized something: “Elder Brother Yan?”

As if responding to his words, a faint wind stirred before him.

Lin Chengyou’s throat tightened. He reached forward with his hand: “You’ve come to bid farewell?”

Before him was only emptiness. Listening carefully, the wind sound was different—the soul seemed to be mumbling something. Lin Chengyou chanted to open his spiritual power, concentrating on listening for a while before hearing that the soul was saying thank you to him.

“No need for thanks.” Lin Chengyou smiled bitterly. “I remember my first day reporting for duty at the Court of Justice, Director Yan told me that investigating cases and pursuing criminals was our heaven-given duty. The person who harmed you has been caught, all those old cases have been solved. Elder Brother Yan, you can go in peace.”

But the soul still lingered.

Lin Chengyou nodded painfully: “I forgot—Sister-in-law is with child. Elder Brother Yan can’t bear to leave her. As long as I live, Prince Cheng’s mansion will look after my Sister-in-law and my nephew for that long… The new year approaches. If you don’t go soon it won’t be good for reincarnation. You should go—let me send you off one last time.”

Sighs mixed with the wind as the soul seemed to question Lin Chengyou about something.

Lin Chengyou thought for a moment: “My eyes?”

The soul floated behind Lin Chengyou’s neck as if checking whether the golden gu mark was still there.

“It’s gone,” Lin Chengyou smiled. “The gu worm went into my eyes. I’m blind.”

The soul stirred up a wind sound—a muffled word that sounded like “Teng.”

Lin Chengyou froze.

The soul anxiously lingered, seeming to ask if there was any way to help Lin Chengyou regain his sight.

Lin Chengyou fell silent. So even a wandering soul could sense his unhappiness.

After sitting quietly for a while, footsteps approached from not far away—Juesheng and Qizhi, worried about him, had come back to find him after all.

The soul, startled by these footsteps, quickly flashed into the shadows.

From far off, Juesheng and Qizhi saw their Elder Brother sitting alone in the darkness.

Their hearts ached. From childhood to adulthood, they had never seen Elder Brother so dejected.

Elder Brother’s unhappiness wasn’t just sorrow over the Prince of Jun’an’s matter—he must also be worried about Miss Teng. In two more days, it would be Miss Teng’s sixteenth birthday. Though Miss Teng had died once more for righteousness, no one could guarantee the curse on her had been removed.

Yet Elder Brother couldn’t go to Yangzhou to find her. Miss Teng hadn’t remembered Elder Brother yet—going to find her now would cause her to lose her sight and mind.

That day when Master personally interrogated Wandering Scholar Wenqing, they learned that only bone-deep yearning could overcome the gu poison. Unless Miss Teng’s feelings for Elder Brother were already carved into her bones—

Elder Brother had already waited many days and might wait forever. But Master said this was a trial of love destined in Elder Brother’s fate. Miss Teng had sacrificed her life to mend heaven and bathe the sun, and Elder Brother had suffered heaven’s punishment helping to call back her soul—everything had its cause and effect.

Elder Brother wanted to be alone. They shouldn’t have come to disturb him, but the weather was so cold—if he kept sitting silently like this he would turn into a snowman. The two carefully approached: “Elder Brother, who were you talking to?”

This time Lin Chengyou didn’t rush to send his junior brothers away, only gazing dejectedly in the direction the wandering soul had drifted off: “I met an old friend. I was reluctant to part with him. Come, lend me your eyes to help send Elder Brother Yan off one last time.”

***

Teng Yuyi stared blankly at a memorial.

It was a memorial written by Father, earnestly requesting the Emperor’s permission for the Teng family to erect a stone monument outside Nanyang City, inscribed with her grandfather’s great achievements and great mistakes during the resistance, letting posterity know that over four thousand innocent civilians died at the hands of the defending soldiers.

He also begged the Emperor to revoke Grandfather’s posthumous honors.

Thus to commemorate those four thousand lost souls.

This was Father’s fourth memorial in recent months. The Emperor was still discussing it with his officials.

Setting down the memorial, Teng Yuyi rose to continue searching. Today was her birthday. For this day, Father hadn’t slept for several nights.

At night, Father would drag his crippled leg to keep watch in the courtyard all night.

Her aunt’s family was also anxious all day. This sixteenth birthday seemed like a great hurdle to cross in her family’s eyes.

Infected by this tense atmosphere, Teng Yuyi also barely slept last night. When dawn’s light appeared this morning, Father’s eyes reddened. In all her years, this was the first time Teng Yuyi had seen Father cry in front of others.

Elder Sister’s family also seemed like survivors of disaster. Last night the entire mansion was silent. At daybreak, everyone came alive.

Master Cheng busied himself about thankfully, and even the usually expressionless Duan Fu was unusually animated.

Birthday gifts from various mansions flowed in before Teng Yuyi.

But the more lively the mansion became, the emptier Teng Yuyi felt inside.

She kept feeling she had lost something and would search everywhere whenever idle.

But when her aunt and elder sister asked what she was looking for, she couldn’t say.

“Have all the gifts been recorded?” Lady Du asked Master Cheng. Since recovering from illness, Teng Yuyi had been somewhat slow, so she had helped manage internal affairs these past months. These two days Yu’er had been absorbed in searching for something, barely able to look at the gift registers.

Master Cheng said: “All those with names have been recorded. Look, even the Emperor and Empress each sent rewards.”

Lady Du smiled: “Put these two rewards on the altar in Yu’er’s room for a day. The Emperor and Empress are people of deep fortune—it would be good to let Yu’er benefit from their blessing.”

But Du Tinglan asked: “What about those gifts without attached names?”

Master Cheng fell silent for a moment, then brought out an exquisitely crafted mother-of-pearl lacquer box from behind him.

Lady Du and Du Tinglan exchanged knowing looks, both quietly looking toward Teng Yuyi.

Opening the lacquer box, their eyes brightened.

It was a necklace full of Mohe jewels and jade, with the Mohe jewels carved into roses and the jade carved into vivid young leaves. Looking closely, even the small thorns on the flower stems were visible. Crowded together like a natural flower cluster, it was heart-stirring at first glance.

Those in the room were too amazed to speak. Such an exquisite treasure might be unique in all the world. Strange that such a precious gift had no name card attached. They searched the lacquer box inside and out but found not the slightest clue to the giver’s identity.

Lady Du and Du Tinglan’s hearts ached, and both were able to guess who had sent this birthday gift to Yu’er. Such caution showed fear of disturbing the gu worm in Yu’er’s body.

“Yu’er, come see if you like this gift.”

Teng Yuyi was urgently searching for something but came to look at these words.

“Do you like it?”

Teng Yuyi was stunned, nodded, and sat down: “Who sent it?”

She couldn’t bear to let it go.

Du Tinglan felt vaguely disappointed—had Yu’er truly forgotten Lin Chengyou? No, she hadn’t forgotten—but recently the Daoist Master had told them in a letter that only deep enough bonds could—

She probingly asked: “Who do you think sent it?”

Teng Yuyi stared blankly at those unusually lovely little roses, her heart growing emptier. She anxiously examined the lacquer box but found no name card inside or out.

“Master Cheng, please investigate which household sent this gift.” Teng Yuyi grew somewhat anxious.

Master Cheng could only agree.

Teng Yuyi’s heart jumped up and down, as she anxiously rose to return to her room and continue searching, her brows tightening the more she searched.

“What exactly are you looking for?” Du Tinglan and Lady Du came forward.

“I seem to have lost something.” Teng Yuyi was at a loss. “I need to find it quickly, otherwise my heart won’t be at ease.”

Lady Du said helplessly: “At least tell us roughly what kind of thing it is, otherwise how can we help you search?”

Teng Yuyi opened her mouth, but despite thinking hard, couldn’t even say clearly whether what she was looking for was an object or a person.

She was burning with anxiety, crouching down to search through boxes: “Aunt, I can’t say what it is. Let me search myself.”

Just then a servant said the ladies from Yangzhou’s noble families had all arrived in the flower hall, requesting the ladies to quickly come receive them.

“Yu’er.” Du Tinglan softly urged behind Teng Yuyi.

Teng Yuyi acted as if she hadn’t heard.

Lady Du and Du Tinglan could only go first to receive the female guests.

But after a full half hour, Teng Yuyi still hadn’t appeared in the flower hall. As today’s birthday girl, it would be discourteous not to appear. Du Tinglan hurriedly apologized to everyone and went to the inner courtyard to find Teng Yuyi.

Reaching the courtyard, she found it extraordinarily quiet. The young maids under the corridor were silent. Entering the room, she found even Chunrong and Biluo acting strangely—several senior maids were leaning in the doorway, holding their breath as they watched inside.

Du Tinglan anxiously parted them. The room was strewn with opened boxes and chests, items pulled out and piled everywhere. Teng Yuyi stood among a pile of miscellaneous objects, seeming to look down at something.

“Yu’er?” Du Tinglan went forward to turn Teng Yuyi’s shoulder but couldn’t move her. She had to go around to her sister’s front and was surprised to see her sister’s face full of tears.

“Yu’er!” Following Teng Yuyi’s gaze to look down, she discovered her sister tightly clutching a string of small bells—golden and round bells that were completely silent.

Teng Yuyi’s tears fell in large drops, instantly wetting the Spirit Sound Bells.

Author’s Note: According to “Miscellaneous Morsels from Youyang,” General Qu Lianghan’s roasted camel hump, the Xiao family’s wontons, the Yu family’s zongzi, and Han Yueneng’s cherry pastries were known as the noble foods of Chang’an.

Note: The Garden Superintendent was a fifth-rank official, essentially the head gardener of the palace. Though not in a high position, he could enter and exit the forbidden gardens at will. When Li Longji staged a palace coup for his father Li Dan, the list of those he bought included the Garden Superintendent of that time.