Zhou Weizhao’s eyes were full of indulgence as he looked at Song Chuyi. From the very first day he met Sixth Miss Song, he had felt she was like his cat—that kitten who, aside from Master, had accompanied him for the longest time in his life.

When he had first arrived at Longhu Mountain, aside from Master, he knew no one. Auntie had stayed with him for two months before leaving as well. No one spoke to him, and he spoke to no one. When Master presided over affairs in the Hall of Three Pure Ones, he would squat outside the hall. At that time, he didn’t know what he was hoping for—perhaps hoping Mother would come see him, perhaps hoping Auntie would return to keep him company. He waited day after day, but nothing came of it, and finally he stopped waiting.

But he didn’t sink into despair. Master found him a cat—a cat whose leg bone had been broken and reset, a cat that could only walk on its front two feet. Even walking was difficult for it.

He learned to set the cat’s bones and applied medicine to it every day. The first time he saw it able to hobble along, tears nearly came to his eyes. His whole heart leaped as if it would fly away. His master had always been skilled at using such small matters to teach him how to conduct himself in the world.

So he never harbored much resentment in his heart. Everything in this world had a reason—what happened was destined to happen. Though Father didn’t favor him, he still had Mother who exhausted herself worrying about him. From childhood he had understood the meaning of contentment.

Sixth Miss Song, whose eyes reddened just because he’d helped her once, was truly too similar to that cat who, once its leg healed, busily caught mice to thank him.

He had wanted to accompany Sixth Miss Song out of her nightmares and walk the remaining road together hand in hand for a long, long time now. They were the same kind of people—often one party didn’t even need to speak before the other already understood their meaning.

But he had never dared voice it aloud. Sixth Miss Song was forbearing, reserved, sensitive, and delicate. Like him, she yearned for her father’s affection yet knew she would never receive it, so she bristled with thorns all over, refusing to let anyone see the soft heart beneath those barbs.

Moreover, Song Chuyi was truly a startled bird. She would rather lick her wounds alone in the dark of night than let anyone see her weakness. He thought everything had to come slowly. He even hid it so well that Qing Zhuo thought he was a fool who hadn’t awakened to such feelings.

But fortunately, though it was slow, it was still in time.

He would wait—wait for the day Song Chuyi walked out of the nightmare she had woven for herself. He believed that day wouldn’t be too far off.

Song Chuyi didn’t know that in this brief moment, this Highness who was smiling to show a mouthful of white teeth had already thought so much. She raised her head to look at Zhou Weizhao and said word by word: “Commander Lai said that although the corpse on the back mountain had been destroyed beyond recognition, he still vaguely guessed his identity.”

The Imperial Guard had always been extremely meticulous in their work. Zhou Weizhao nodded, indicating she should continue.

“In Jingxiang County next to Yangquan, someone entertained a group of people with Xingyang accents. Though merchants coming to Jinzhong to do business come from all over, those who spent so generously and were completely unlike ordinary merchants were rare. Moreover, they didn’t conduct any business—they weren’t there for the mines, nor for Jingxiang County’s wine lees. This was rather strange.” Song Chuyi spoke unhurriedly: “Their banknotes all came from the same bank. Commander Lai investigated slightly and discovered that the establishment behind these banknotes was precisely the Xingyang Fan clan. Large-denomination banknotes in circulation must have official seals. Someone the Fan family could confidently dispatch and entrust with the seal would definitely not be a servant, not even a collateral branch member. If Commander Lai and I haven’t guessed wrong, this person should be from the Fan family’s direct line.”

And as for exactly who it was—wouldn’t sending someone to Xingyang to inquire about who was currently missing from the Fan family make it very clear?

“This matter cannot be leaked.” Zhou Weizhao looked at her and continued: “Not now. Imperial Grandfather probably has some dissatisfaction with the Crown Prince right now. If the Eastern Palace has another incident like this at this time…”

If Lai Chenglong reported this matter, Emperor Jianzhang would be even more disgusted with the Crown Prince whose favoritism had led to fratricide. All these years, Emperor Jianzhang had always been especially tolerant toward the Crown Prince because of his weak health. But an emperor’s tolerance was limited. The Yangzhou corruption case and the matters with Prince Duan and Prince Gong had already exhausted Emperor Jianzhang’s tolerance for the Crown Prince.

“Commander Lai understands. He won’t speak of this matter.” Song Chuyi met Zhou Weizhao’s gaze with certainty: “Commander Lai is a shrewd man. He knows when enough is enough.”

Though Lai Chenglong was certainly Emperor Jianzhang’s loyal subject, he also had to think of himself. This discovery couldn’t bring him any benefit. Aside from the hatred of the Grand Prince, Fan Liangdi’s faction, and the Crown Prince, he would gain nothing. He wouldn’t take this to Emperor Jianzhang to exchange for a reward.

After thinking for a moment, she continued: “The Fan family is not an impenetrable iron barrel.”

If they were, the Fan family wouldn’t have been foolish enough back then to sit by and watch the hatred between Lesser Madam Fan and Greater Madam Fan deepen, much less indulge Greater Madam Fan in pressing step by step until she forced Lesser Madam Fan into a corner. They weren’t strong enough for that yet.

“The cause they sowed back then should bear fruit now.” She picked up the tea beside her and took a sip, then looked at Zhou Weizhao again: “I imagine Han Zhi, who went to Fujian, thinks the same way?”

How fortunate that they hadn’t directly killed Han Zhi back then—otherwise how could they make the Fan family shed a layer of skin?

“You’re planning to move against Fan Shikun?” Zhou Weizhao was somewhat surprised. He knew that more than half the reason Han Zhi went to Fujian was because of Fan Shikun. Fan Shikun was the most promising among the Fan family’s younger generation—capable and skilled at networking. In a short time he had already risen to the position of Regional Commander. This man knew both how to fight wars and how to deal with people. He was willing to lavish silver generously and had the Crown Prince backing him from behind. Now he was closely eyeing the position of Fujian Provincial Governor.

“I wouldn’t say I’m moving against him—it’s whether Han Zhi wants to move against him.” Song Chuyi lowered her eyes: “Counting it up, he’s been in Fujian for more than half a year now. Hasn’t Your Highness been having Guo Huaiying watch him? I heard he joined the pirates.”

And he was doing quite well at it—only slightly inferior to Wang Lun, who had given the entire coast headaches before. He was now Wang Lun’s adopted son, running rampant on the seas. Every time he went out, he had a fleet and Japanese pirates recruited from the Eastern Seas as escorts. Who knew how impressive he was? He had changed his name now—he called himself Han Zheng.

A venomous snake like Han Zhi would never release prey he had fixed his gaze upon. If he didn’t bite his prey to death, he would force himself to death instead. Having fallen from the heir of a marquis manor to a pirate, his heart already harbored bone-deep hatred for the Fan family. Given even the slightest opportunity, he would grind the entire Fan clan to dust.