What defines a noble family?

“Family ties above sovereign loyalty.”

The South’s two great powers were the imperial family and the noble houses. Neither had reached the pinnacle of power, yet the noble families steadily outweighed the imperial house. Noble families were inevitably tumors impeding imperial power—they possessed lands, private armies, estates, shops, and thousands of servants. They enjoyed the sustenance of the common people, while their young lords controlled ninety-nine percent of official appointments throughout the nation. The extravagant noble lords spent their days in leisure, competing in wealth and power; the ambitious ones diligently cultivated their young masters and expanded family influence. Regardless of type, they shared one trait: disregard for imperial authority.

As a member of the Southern imperial family, Liu Mu had never looked kindly upon the noble houses that divided imperial power. He had once sworn that if he gained power, he would certainly cut down their influence. But today, when the Emperor personally ordered his death and Chen Wang Liu Chu executed this command, not one person of the imperial family pleaded for him. At this moment, only the noble families dared to break him out of prison.

Only noble lords could make such a grand gesture—saving him without fearing repercussions; even if implicated, the Lu family, foremost among Jianye’s noble houses, could withstand the consequences.

“Quick, this way!” Second Young Master Lu Xian threw a dark sable cloak over the youth emerging from prison. All around was pitch black—afraid of alerting the Marshal’s Temple patrol, none of the attendants dared light a torch. They relied entirely on Lu Xian’s memory of the Grand Marshal’s Temple’s layout to escape. Lu Xian privately steadied himself, grateful that his wife Liu Tang’s brother was the current Grand Marshal, allowing him to obtain the temple’s layout through roundabout means. He felt somewhat guilty toward Chen Wang Liu Chu for tonight’s action, but Chen Wang’s losses could be compensated later—if the Prince of Hengyang stayed any longer, death would soon arrive.

Lu Xian didn’t know that his ability to obtain the temple’s layout from his wife was Chen Wang’s secret instruction.

Liu Mu, somewhat bewildered as he followed Lu Xian and the attendants outward, heard Lu Xian’s explanation but halted his steps, feeling something strange. Having studied alongside Chen Wang Liu Chu in his youth, in his eyes, though Liu Chu rarely spoke, he harbored great ambitions and was cut from the same cloth as Third Young Master Lu—what one might call “quietly cunning.” How could such a person carelessly leak the Marshal’s Temple’s layout?

Liu Mu: “Something’s not right…”

He grew secretly vigilant—perhaps Lu Xian had come deliberately to trick him? Since Chen Wang still couldn’t find evidence to execute him, was Lu Xian luring him out to give him the crime of “prison escape” as an excuse for direct execution?

The current Prince of Hengyang had grown suspicious of everyone around him. He increasingly couldn’t trust these people… Noticing Liu Mu’s protest, Lu Xian turned back, meeting Liu Mu’s cold, sharp gaze. Lu Xian started, thinking Liu Mu was still hesitating and tried to reassure him: “What are you still thinking about? I heard directly from my Third Brother that His Majesty simply wants you dead. You know my Third Brother is close to Chen Wang, so his words are naturally highly credible. Now you’re the meat on their chopping block—what’s left to consider? Better to burn your boats and flee Jianye. You can escape back to Hengyang, where you’ve built up influence over the years. Once back in Hengyang, you need only disobey His Majesty’s edicts to stay safe. If you don’t wish to return to Hengyang, you can go elsewhere… but don’t return to the border—I feel there are still some unresolved issues from the North-South war there, you shouldn’t go back there.”

Lu Xian feared Liu Mu would head straight for the border, as he had dreamed of this young prince dying there, so he earnestly advised against it, worried Liu Mu might make an unwise choice.

A beam of moonlight broke through the skylight, and as they turned a corner, it swept across Lu Xian’s billowing robes and fell into Liu Mu’s eyes.

When Lu Xian turned back to speak again, he saw Liu Mu watching him. The youth who had always disdained to associate with him stared at Lu Xian, suddenly breaking into a smile. Lu Xian looked at him questioningly, seeing Liu Mu’s lips curve: “I overthought it—how could you possibly deceive me.”

After all this fussing, it seemed he didn’t have the intelligence to plot such a deception.

Understanding this, Lu Xian smiled helplessly: “…Your Highness, without reason, why would I harm you?”

Liu Mu lowered his eyelids, murmuring: “Indeed. Without reason, why harm me.”

Without reason, his imperial brother wanted to kill him; without reason, Lu Xian was saving him. All without reason—yet suddenly, a shackle in Liu Mu’s heart fell away, the dust in his soul swept clean by that cold moonlight and the young man before him. He realized that even bonds as great as a family could be heartless when heartlessness was called for. Even with noble families conflicting with imperial power, what mattered was who wielded the power, not the fearsome nature of power itself.

…

The Marshal’s Temple was utterly quiet this night, with Chen Wang sitting in a dark chamber playing chess alone. The temple’s patrol forces happened to miss both groups of intruders. Second Young Master Lu arrived first, Prince Zhao after. Prince Zhao Liu Huai was single-mindedly determined to kill those troublesome Northern spies—his private agenda made those Northerner’s powerful bait, luring him into Chen Wang’s trap.

As Lu Xian and Liu Mu’s group quietly evaded the patrol to escape the Marshal’s Temple, weaving left and right through the compound, moonlight filtered through clouds overhead, while before them tree shadows and human figures intermingled. Suddenly, as the clouds parted, two groups came face to face. Prince Zhao and his followers had just dodged the temple guards when they saw figures flash before them. The other party reacted extremely quickly, turning to flee upon seeing him.

The same night-raid attire, somewhat familiar.

Liu Huai: “…!”

Both breaking into the Marshal’s Temple—immediately giving chase seemed somewhat strange.

But Liu Huai suddenly realized something was wrong. Instead of immediately pursuing Liu Mu’s group, he led his private soldiers first to the prison cells holding the fugitives. The prison gates were tightly shut, appearing normal. Liu Huai first rushed to where the Northern spies were held—the group had been separated into different cells, and seeing the prince appear, they immediately rushed to the bars. But Liu Huai dared not linger, quickly counting heads—

Except for the Northern leader who had committed suicide by poison at the very beginning, all other numbers matched. Then why had that escaping group moved so hastily?

Liu Huai’s heart raced, vaguely sensing a great pit awaiting him, but his mind remained blank, unable to determine what had gone wrong. The Northern spies on both sides shouted: “Your Highness, have you come to rescue us?”

“Your Highness, if you don’t save us, don’t blame us for implicating you. Even if you’re a prince and your life isn’t in danger, secretly communicating with enemy states—your future is finished!”

Liu Huai roared: “Silence!”

He stood rigid outside the prison gate, forehead sweating, wracking his brain: what was that group’s purpose? Should tonight’s killing end early…

Suddenly one of his followers remembered something, moving forward to whisper: “Your Highness, this place holds not only the Northern spies but also His Highness the Prince of Hengyang!”

Prince of Hengyang Liu Mu!

Liu Huai: “Damn it!”

Abandoning his plan to kill the Northern spies, he rushed to where the Prince of Hengyang was held. He cursed his usual lack of connection with the Prince of Hengyang—he hadn’t cared whether Liu Mu lived or died, as he hadn’t been involved in Liu Mu’s affairs. But tonight… Liu Huai had also obtained the Marshal’s Temple’s layout, and after several wrong turns, finally found where the Prince of Hengyang was held. The cell door was wide open, the chamber empty…

As he stood dumbfounded, suddenly signal arrows flew into the sky outside—the alert for enemy attack. Outside, troops moved, large numbers rushing over, shouting: “Someone has broken into the Grand Marshal’s Temple!” Immediately, torches lit up everywhere, making the entire Grand Marshal’s Temple bright as day, the firelight converging on where the Prince of Hengyang had been held.

In the prison, hearing the commotion outside, Liu Huai gnashed his teeth: “So that’s it!”

The followers behind him turned pale: “Your Highness, what should we do?”

Liu Huai roared: “Chase them! Bring the Prince of Hengyang back!”

So this was the trap waiting for him!

Liu Chu, Liu Chu!

Prince Zhao Liu Huai had come to kill, yet unwittingly became the prison-breaker. Though he had never even seen the Prince of Hengyang’s face, he was now being hunted by the Marshal’s Temple troops. The Grand Marshal was the South’s highest military commander, controlling all national military matters. How could Prince Zhao’s private soldiers match them? Prince Zhao’s group fled the Marshal’s Temple in disarray, pursuing the Prince of Hengyang.

He had to catch the Prince of Hengyang, or he would become tonight’s scapegoat. He would lose what little trust he had from his imperial father!

Through streets and alleys, the hunter became the hunted. Prince Zhao suddenly remembered: “Where’s the Capital Prefect? Where is the Capital Prefect? A prisoner has escaped in Jianye City, why isn’t the night-patrolling Capital Prefect here? Quick, split into two groups, and find the Capital Prefect. Have him help us chase them!”

…

The Capital Prefect was busy putting out fires.

Third Young Master Lu and his newly-wed wife visited Jianchu Temple at night, engaging in pleasant conversation with a Buddhist nun. Jianchu Temple was the foremost Buddhist temple in Jiangnan, its reputation even surpassing that of Kaishan Temple on Bell Mountain. While conversing with the nun, she expressed admiration for the Scholar of Plum Seeking’s knowledge, personally leading the couple to view the temple’s murals and introducing a stone monument: “Our temple is building a stone pagoda for sacred relics. Once completed, we can welcome renowned monks from the Western Regions to teach Buddhism here, benefiting all under heaven.”

Third Young Master Lu held a green-glazed ox-shaped lamp with decorative patterns, its flame flickering in the wind. His other hand held Luo Lingyu’s, the firelight illuminating his face. He smiled slightly: “Teaching Buddhism to all under heaven is indeed a virtuous deed. Though my wife and I don’t follow Buddhism, my Second Brother is a devoted lay Buddhist. Even if just to accumulate merit for Second Brother, my wife and I plan to donate a Buddha statue to the temple, contributing to the Grand Master’s efforts to build the relics pagoda and welcome renowned monks from the Western Regions.”

Accompanied by many monks, the leading nun had spent the evening talking with Third Young Master Lu precisely because of his noble family background, hoping for generous donations. Though slightly disappointed when hearing that Lu Yun and Luo Lingyu didn’t practice Buddhism, upon learning that Lu Yun was still willing to make offerings, the nun was overjoyed, repeatedly expressing thanks.

Thus, she led the couple to pay respects to Buddha.

Passing an empty chamber in the temple, Lu Yun’s eyes flickered, and he casually inquired about it—it turned out the chamber leaked water, the monks had moved out, and repairs hadn’t yet begun. Lu Yun nodded: “What a pity.”

Luo Lingyu had been bewildered throughout, not knowing what she and Lu Yun were doing. Suddenly, Lu Yun reached over, pulled a hairpin from her hair, and threw it into the empty chamber. To Luo Lingyu’s shock, Lu Yun then flung his ox-shaped lamp, its flames catching the chamber’s curtains. A great fire roared to life!

Lu Yun: “Summon the Capital Prefect, tell him my wife’s most beloved hairpin has fallen into the burning chamber—it was the token of our love. Please ask the Governor to extinguish the fire and retrieve the hairpin.”

Luo Lingyu: “…”

As attendants departed and the guiding nun looked on in disbelief, Luo Lingyu stood dumbfounded for a moment before obediently lowering her head, covering her face, and turning away: “My beloved hairpin, wuu wuu wuu…”

The monks and nuns: “…”

A monk sternly said: “Third Young Master Lu, Third Young Mistress, you dare take advantage of our temple’s—”

Lu Yun glanced over: “My wife and I will donate two Buddha statues.”

The temple’s monks and nuns: “…”

Their anger instantly dissipated as they lowered their eyes, ignoring the increasingly fierce fire.

…

Prince Zhao Liu Huai had once used a fire emergency to lure away the Capital Prefect; tonight Lu Yun repaid him with the same trick. Racing out of the city, they even crossed paths with the Governor’s men, both parties in great haste. The Capital Prefect was particularly helpless—Third Young Master Lu’s wife’s hairpin was a small matter, but the Lu family’s prestige forced them to respond…

Among the powerful, who was inferior to another?

“BOOM—”

In that moment’s delay, the city gates ahead had closed, the fleeing party had escaped, and behind them, the Marshal’s Temple’s forces surrounded them: “Prince Zhao, please surrender.”

Prince Zhao trembled, watching the surrounding flames and tall horses closing in. The firelight flickered across his face as he and his followers were surrounded, Marshal’s Temple forces many layers deep. Prince Zhao screamed hysterically, pointing at the city gates: “They’ve all escaped the city! Why aren’t you chasing them, why chase me?”

The pursuers lowered their eyes: “Your Highness, we only saw you break into the Grand Marshal’s Temple and rescue the Prince of Hengyang. Where is the Prince of Hengyang?”

Prince Zhao: “…!”

“I understand now, you did this deliberately… you all planned this! What nonsense about Third Young Mistress Lu losing her hairpin, what fire… Liu Chu, where is Liu Chu? Let him come out, I’ll confront him face to face!”

…

The city’s lights were left behind the walls, the gates tightly shut, and troops all within the city. Liu Mu found Mr. Kong in the forest outside the city, where he had prepared horses and provisions, waiting as Second Young Master Lu had instructed. In the dead of night, seeing the youth, the old man was overwhelmed with emotion, nearly falling as he stumbled forward to greet him.

Liu Mu steadied him, warmth flooding his eyes as he blinked away moisture and firmly gripped Mr. Kong’s hand. After all these years of Mr. Kong’s care, the bond between them needed no words. Mounting their horses and traveling several li, Liu Mu and Mr. Kong each rode separately. At one moment, he suddenly looked back. Behind them, smoke hazed the air, Jianye City ablaze with lights.

In that city, soldiers surrounded the streets as His Highness Chen Wang made his elegant entrance. The young man took measured steps under the flickering lights, approaching Prince Zhao Liu Huai whose face had changed drastically. All this grew increasingly distant from Liu Mu.

Mr. Kong urged: “Your Highness, we must hurry, any longer and it will be too late.”

Liu Mu gripped his reins: “…Mm.”

Mr. Kong: “Your Highness, Second Young Master Lu saved you this time. You must repay him in the future.”

Liu Mu: “Master, it wasn’t just Second Young Master Lu. Behind him stood Chen Wang, Third Young Master Lu, the Grand Marshal’s authority, the noble families’ power, the commoners’ allegiance… even Sister, Sister, Sister Luo. Letting one person escape—Second Young Master Lu alone couldn’t have achieved this.”

“I’m grateful to Second Young Master Lu… but I know others helped me too. Master, they are all my benefactors.”

Cold moon, white horses, endless wilderness. As dust flew, no longer looking back at that receding city, the youth on horseback seemed to both laugh and cry: “My closest kin view me as an enemy, yet I still have benefactors.”

Mr. Kong asked: “Your Highness, where shall we go? Back to the border?”

Liu Mu said coldly: “No, back to Hengyang, to recruit soldiers and buy horses… that is my territory!”

“Farewell, Jianye.”

Without looking back, Liu Mu fled south with Mr. Kong, escaping Jianye. Mr. Kong watched as under the cold moonlight, the youth’s facial features grew deeper, more serene. His childishness had fallen away—through repeated brushes with death, he had grown into a man. Time became an invisible thread, repeatedly cutting through fate. The further Liu Mu got from Jianye, the further he moved from that destiny that had once been so close—

In Lu Xian’s dream, Liu Mu had once become Emperor. Then, headstrong and reckless, powerful and aggressive, out of jealousy and hatred, he had insisted on killing Lu Yun, placing himself in opposition to all noble families. Forced into a situation where the entire court was his enemy, returning to the palace, even the Empress’s devotion was false. When the Southern Kingdom fell and the city was breached, he and the Empress died for their country.

Fate drew a hazy line, using Second Young Master Lu’s hand to guide everything toward the best direction—

Liu Mu need not become Emperor at an unsuitable time.

Luo Lingyu need not marry him, Lu Yun need not die at the border.

Yet Liu Mu need not die either. Second Young Master Lu saved him.

Life is a great dream, and too many encounters with death had made the youth grow up, understanding that noble families were never the enemy. Balance, perhaps, was better than direct suppression… but what did any of this matter to him now?

The young prince’s expression grew cold as he clenched his fist: I will never forgive those who tried to kill me! But I will also repay those who saved me tonight!

…

Saving the Prince of Hengyang was a simple gesture.

Only because Chen Wang didn’t wish to lose a capable servant of the state over an old man’s ramblings, and Second Young Master Lu couldn’t accept a fate where he couldn’t keep Liu Mu alive.

Lu Yun, observing from the side, guessed seven or eight-tenths of it and cooperated with those two’s actions. But though Liu Mu had left, matters weren’t yet concluded. Walking back to their residence with his wife Luo Lingyu under the moonlight, Lu Yun thought of someone and smiled, telling her: “Tomorrow, let Huan’er visit Yue Zihan at the Marshal’s Temple. Perhaps there will be a surprise.”

Luo Lingyu: “Ah?”

She had already forgotten who “Yue Zihan” was.