When Ye Jingchuan received news that someone from the Earl of Changning’s residence had come to deliver gifts, it was already approaching evening. He lifted his robe and ran swiftly to the room of the Princess Consort of Zhennan, Qi Shi. Slightly out of breath, he asked the Princess Consort: “I heard someone came from the Earl of Changning’s residence today?”

Having observed coldly for these two years, Qi Shi could roughly guess what thoughts her son harbored. Hearing this, she couldn’t help but laugh: “Speak of the devil and he appears. Just now I was saying that if you heard the news, you’d surely come running to me impatiently, and here you are. You truly can’t stand being talked about.”

Ye Jingchuan knew Qi Shi was teasing him and wasn’t annoyed. Looking at the bright red cherries arranged in the crystal plate, he frowned and asked Qi Shi: “Song Jue didn’t leave a message for me?”

When Qi Shi said he was anxious and flustered because the Song family had sent things over, she was truly being somewhat unfair to him. In reality, he was concerned because he’d heard Song Jue had personally delivered the items, which made him think perhaps Song Chuyi had some matter—otherwise, for delivering these things, which time hadn’t it been capable servants? There was absolutely no need for the dignified Second Young Master of the Earl of Changning’s residence.

Qi Shi stared at him in surprise for a while and chided: “You seem able to predict things as if you could divine the future. How did you know the Second Young Master left a message for you? Don’t tell me you’d arranged this?”

By the time Ye Jingchuan exited the main courtyard gates, the sky was already full of stars. He didn’t return to the rear courtyard but went straight to the front courtyard study, found the young servant Qi Shi had assigned to him, and urgently instructed him to make a trip to Chongyin Workshop on West Street: “Give this letter to the shopkeeper there and say I sent someone to deliver it. Also tell him I’ll personally go there tomorrow.”

The young servant Chang’an had been with him for quite some time. Hearing these words, he knew this was an extremely urgent matter and didn’t dare delay. Bowing in acknowledgment, he quickly tucked the letter into his bosom and went to find a horse and leave.

Ye Jingchuan felt like frowning—if Song Chuyi wanted to find His Highness the Grand Prince, logically speaking there were plenty of ways. Why did she have to go in such a roundabout way to find him? Could it be she’d encountered some trouble? Was even the Cui family temporarily unreachable?

He remembered that last time he’d heard his father mention that before Cui Shaoting left, he’d specially instructed him to help process household registration documents for a group of people, which would later be handed over to Song Chuyi. He vaguely felt this matter was inseparably connected to Song Chuyi’s current predicament.

With this thought, he could no longer sit still. He simply took Changsheng and went out into the night. He first made a circuit toward the Song residence but discovered many unfamiliar stalls on the main street—the Song family’s west corner gate led to the main street after a long alley. The stalls beside the corner gate had always been sparse, yet now they had everything from food to handkerchiefs and turbans to fortune-telling, a complete assortment.

During his two years in Fujian, he had served as a spy infiltrating pirate groups to gather intelligence. Watching carefully for a while, he realized this group of street vendors weren’t here to sell things at all, but rather to monitor people. His frown deepened involuntarily.

The Emperor having Old Master Song serve as one of the chief examiners to try Zhang Yuan’s case was naturally eye-catching, but Old Master Song’s attitude of refusal was visible to anyone with eyes. There was absolutely no need to send people to monitor him.

Song Chuyi had to use the pretext of delivering fruit and specifically have Song Jue come forward just to send a message. Could all these people actually be targeting her?

But Song Chuyi was ultimately just a young lady in her boudoir. Who exactly would expend so much effort insisting on monitoring her?

He finally made it through to the next day with difficulty. After eating breakfast, he rushed all the way to Chongyin Workshop.

The shopkeeper was startled to see him. After a long pause, he hurriedly blocked him: “Young Master, there’s a guest inside. Right now it’s probably not convenient to see you. Why don’t you wait a little?”

Ye Jingchuan patiently watched opera from a second-floor private box for a long time, not taking anything in. Only after more than half a shichen did he see an attendant leading out a man dressed in short clothes and a small cap from across the way.

He felt this person looked somewhat familiar. He stared with wide eyes again and again, but for the moment couldn’t recall where exactly he’d seen this person before. He could only reluctantly give up and follow the shopkeeper into the private room across the way.

Qing Zhuo and Han Feng were both guarding outside three layers of pearl and crystal curtains. Seeing him, they cupped their hands. He waved his hand and lifted the curtain to sit across from Ye Jingchuan: “Yesterday I had the shopkeeper send you a letter. Did you receive it?”

He always vaguely felt there was a kind of tacit understanding between Song Chuyi and Zhou Weizhao. Although they didn’t seem to interact much normally, at critical moments, the ones helping each other out were often precisely them. This discovery made him very uncomfortable, and the feeling of being able only to be an outsider was the same. His speech involuntarily carried several parts resentment.

Zhou Weizhao raised an eyebrow, his tone still as natural as ever: “I received it, so the person you just saw—that’s the matter Song Six asked me to handle this time.”

That person’s image passed through Ye Jingchuan’s mind again, but he still couldn’t figure out where exactly he’d seen this person before. Involuntarily anxious, he leaned his body forward: “Who exactly was that person? Song Six asking you to handle matters this time is different from usual—she didn’t even seek out Princess Duanhui. Yesterday I made a circuit around her residence and discovered many unfamiliar people keeping watch.”

Keeping watch? Then no wonder Song Chuyi hadn’t sent Qing Ying out recently. She was probably being monitored to death by Han Zhi’s people and couldn’t move.

That poisonous snake Han Zhi really could restrain himself and had made up his mind. Once he’d identified his prey, he wouldn’t let go, clearly determined to watch Song Chuyi closely and not release her. Suspicious people were like this—unwilling to let any suspicious target go.

His fingers tapped on the table. Suddenly he raised his head and asked: “Do you truly want to know who Song Six has offended?”

Ye Jingchuan instinctively straightened his chest: “Of course. There are some matters I can help with too. How could I let you be the only good person?”

“Do you remember the murder case that occurred in the capital’s outskirts two years ago? The one where later both the Imperial Guard and Shuntian Prefecture ran to the Marquis of Jinxiang’s residence?” Zhou Weizhao saw his eyes brighten and continued: “Those who died that time weren’t just the daughter of some wet nurse and his attendant that Han Zhi mentioned—there was another person, Song Eight. Now can you guess why Han Zhi won’t let Song Chuyi go?”

Ye Jingchuan stood frozen on the spot, almost suspecting he’d heard wrong—at that time he hadn’t yet gone to Fujian. He knew that after the New Year, Song Eight had died of illness, but he had no idea Song Eight actually had connections with Han Zhi and had been secretly transported out to the capital’s outskirts by Han Zhi.

This meant that the one who intercepted and killed that group of people was actually Song Chuyi?!

He blinked his eyes, somewhat incredulous. This joke was getting a bit too big, wasn’t it? Although he knew Song Chuyi was very capable, where would she get so many people who could kill for her?!