Lin Sui’an crouched in the pitch-black hidden chamber, listening as the clamoring footsteps above her head came and went, and went and came, with a feeling of utter helplessness that only the heavens could truly comprehend.

The hidden chamber ran seven chi deep, set some distance below the floorboards of Old Estate Master Qiu’s tea room. The soundproofing was poor — it even had a slight echo effect. Lin Sui’an could hear roughly seventy to eighty percent of what was being said by everyone in the tea room above.

Qiu Hong had sealed off Xian De Manor and ordered a room-by-room search of the entire premises, questioning each member of the manor’s household. Every single person was found to have an alibi — all except one, who had inexplicably vanished without a trace.

That person was, naturally, Fang’an.

As ill-luck would have it, someone discovered a few footprints inside the room. The outline was slightly smaller than a man’s — clearly left by a woman. And as further ill-luck would have it, the only woman inside Xian De Manor was Fang’an.

And so, Qiu Hong lost no time in announcing, loudly and publicly, that the murderer who had killed Old Estate Master Qiu was Fang’an.

The entire Xian De Manor was filled with righteous fury and blazing outrage, swearing to flay Fang’an alive, crush her bones, and scatter her ashes to the winds.

Truly: sitting peacefully at home, yet a calamity falls from the sky.

Her wretched constitution had once again lived up to its reputation by landing her squarely as the prime suspect in a murder case.

Trapped as she was in this moment, even if she had mouths all over her body she would never be able to talk her way out. The only option was to find a way to escape as soon as possible, regroup with Hua Yitang and the others, and devise another plan.

Lin Sui’an was a little vexed. She hadn’t been carrying the night-luminescent pearl that Hua Yitang had given her. She could only grope her way around in the dark like a blind person. Based on the feel of the walls, the hidden chamber appeared to be constructed of brick and stone — five paces wide, five paces deep, a reasonably standard square shape. The ground beneath her feet was firmly packed. There was no sign of a second level below, and after being down here this long, she felt no stuffiness whatsoever — clearly, there was a ventilation passage somewhere.

Where there was a ventilation passage, there was another way out.

Lin Sui’an held her breath and stilled herself. She stretched both arms wide, spreading all five fingers on each hand, and slowly rotated her body, concentrating to feel the flow of air. She turned a full four times before finally identifying where the draft was coming from. Two steps brought her to the wall, and she began tracing the surface inch by inch with her palm.

Before long, the heel of her hand grazed a raised shape. She ran her fingers carefully over it — a camellia-shaped carved relief. Following the hint from her golden finger’s memory, she pressed it in a clockwise direction. The wall gave a click and a crack appeared. Lin Sui’an pushed it open slowly. Fresh, damp air rushed toward her. Sure enough, another secret passage lay before her.

Lin Sui’an breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She carefully extended one foot to probe the space ahead, tapping in all directions to check for anything unusual before daring to enter fully. The passage could only accommodate one person at a time. From the feel of the ground underfoot, it seemed to slope steadily downward. Lin Sui’an moved very slowly. Drawing on the experience she had gained exploring the Dragon God Temple’s secret passage with Yun Zhong Yue, she kept both hands pressed to the inner walls on either side the entire time, terrified of missing any hidden mechanism.

In the darkness, every sense beyond sight was amplified to its limit — the sensation of her fingertips against rough brick and stone, the soft scraping sound of her footsteps against the ground, the passage of each breath through her nostrils, the pulse beating beneath the skin of her wrists, her heartbeat vibrating through her lungs — thump, thump, thump—

A formless, elusive mass of bloodthirsty killing intent crept out from the cracks of her heart, like cold, icy smoke.

Lin Sui’an let out a quiet breath and took out the antidote Fangke had given her. She tipped one pill into her palm and swallowed it. She suspected that her current abnormal state was likely the result of accidentally being poisoned again by the Dragon God Fruit. And based on Old Estate Master Qiu’s condition at the time of his death, he had almost certainly died from the same cause.

Old Estate Master Qiu’s state before death gave her an unsettling premonition, calling to mind Fangke’s deduction about the Dragon God Fruit:

[Long-term use of this poison also causes a particular aftereffect — severe changes in personality.]

Perhaps it was more than just personality. There were also physical mutations — a sudden increase in strength, a sudden increase in speed — just like this body of hers, capable of “defeating hundreds single-handedly.”

Her heart clenched without warning. The cold of the secret passage walls seeped in through her fingertips, like countless ants gnawing into her skin. The bloodthirsty killing intent seemed to heed some call, surging forward with a roar toward every corner of her limbs, clinging to every nerve ending in a dense, crawling mass — waiting only for a single trigger before it would come screaming forward to seize command of this body.

Fangke had been right. The antidote was painfully slow to take effect. Lin Sui’an clenched her jaw and tightened her fists, pressing her fingernails deep into her palms. Both fists ground hard against the rough wall as she inched forward, bit by bit. The skin tore. Blood seeped out. It stung — but not enough.

Would there come a day when she, too, became like Old Estate Master Qiu — losing her memories, losing her mind, turning into something no longer human?

The endless, boundless darkness seemed to take on a life of its own, pressing in from all sides, squeezing tight around her. Sweat dripped from her brow, falling with a tap, tap that sounded startlingly loud against the ground. Lin Sui’an had bitten through her lower lip. The taste of rust and iron filled her mouth. Sweat plastered her fringe to her forehead, sticky against her lashes. Lin Sui’an stopped walking.

A wall had appeared ahead of her.

Lin Sui’an casually wiped her face and reached out to feel the surface. Sure enough, another camellia carved relief. She pressed it. The wall made a sequence of clicking sounds and cracked open.

Lin Sui’an was drenched in sweat, her heart slamming against her ribs, every muscle in her body trembling. Bracing both palms against the hidden door, she forced it open on what felt like nothing but sheer willpower — and at that precise moment, she heard the faint sound of breathing. Someone was in the room!

Lin Sui’an’s pupils contracted violently. The killing intent she had barely managed to push down erupted and ignited like wildfire across a barren plain, blazing through every cell of her body in an instant—

Lin Sui’an charged forward, laughing even as she moved.

Kill! Kill! Kill!

Kill them all!

Tear flesh apart with her nails, rip out tendons and bone, crush the organs to pulp — the hot blood spraying into her mouth would surely taste unbearably sweet—

Sweet… sweet?!

That was the scent of fruit and wood!

Lin Sui’an’s heart gave a violent lurch. A piercing ring blared in her ears. The darkness blurring her vision shattered and scattered in an instant. In her line of sight appeared a translucent white jade hairpin, pinning up a cascade of hair as dark and lustrous as black satin — hair she had always deeply envied.

The person in front of her turned abruptly, and brilliant, star-bright eyes flashed.

Lin Sui’an’s expression changed in an instant. Her left hand slammed hard into her own right shoulder. The tremendous force of the impact brought her body to an airborne halt, spinning her several times before she landed unsteadily.

Her heart nearly burst from her chest. Her eardrums throbbed, one beat after another, with an aching pulse. Lin Sui’an’s feet began to shake uncontrollably.

One moment more, and she would have…

Killed Hua Yitang.

“Lin Sui’an!”

Suddenly, a warm blur of white rushed at her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Her vision and her nose were flooded with the luminous, lush fragrance of fruit and wood. Lin Sui’an stood motionless and dazed. Her heart, through the thin barrier of fabric, pressed against another heart — the same urgent heartbeat, the same blazing warmth.

A night-luminescent pearl the size of a pigeon’s egg rolled to a stop near her feet. Its gentle, tender glow soothed the wild chaos in her heart. Gradually, her own heartbeat slowed. The killing intent — that stench of decay and blood that had been floating all around her — receded in layers, giving way to the clear, clean brightness of water running over stones.

In contrast, the other heartbeat grew faster and faster, thudding against its rib cage — thump, thump, thump — resonating until half of Lin Sui’an’s body felt numb.

Hua Yitang was shaking. “So dark, so dark, so dark, so dark!”

Lin Sui’an blinked, and then she gave a quiet, helpless laugh and patted Hua Yitang on the back.

“You’re afraid of the dark?”

“I am a full seven-chi man — of course I’m afraid! Of course I am!” Hua Yitang’s arms wound tighter around her waist, tighter and tighter still.

“Ahem. Your night-luminescent pearl has rolled away.”

Hua Yitang let go of Lin Sui’an with a sheepish pout, picked up the pearl, and held it up to look. His expression shifted instantly. “You’re injured!”

Only then did Lin Sui’an remember that she was probably covered in Old Estate Master Qiu’s blood. She smiled and shook her head. “It’s someone else’s blood—”

Hua Yitang grabbed Lin Sui’an’s wrist and raised it high, his gaze blazing as he stared at her.

The back of Lin Sui’an’s hand was a gruesome mess of split skin and torn flesh.

Lin Sui’an: “Ah. I forgot.”

“Where’s the wound medicine I gave you?”

“Oh.”

Lin Sui’an fished out the small porcelain bottle from inside her robe. Hua Yitang snatched it in one motion, cupped her hand with one of his, and applied the medicine with the other. The ointment — whatever was in it — worked remarkably well at stopping both bleeding and pain. It was cool and soothing, though Lin Sui’an found it a little itchy. She shifted her gaze awkwardly to their surroundings.

In the glow of the night-luminescent pearl, she could just make out that this was a larger hidden chamber — roughly one-fifth the size of Old Estate Master Qiu’s tea room. They were standing right in the center. To the left was a bookshelf, completely bare — not a single book or ornament on it. To the right was a tea table, on which sat a teapot and two teacups, all heavily layered with dust. They appeared not to have been used in a very long time.

Directly ahead stood a double bed with two pillows, the bedding folded neatly and precisely, and at the head of the bed hung a thin, sheer red garment.

“How did Old Estate Master Qiu die?” Hua Yitang asked suddenly.

“He likely died from Dragon God Fruit poisoning — an exploded heart,” Lin Sui’an said. “Before his death, his mind was unclear and his constitution had undergone a strange transformation. Very bizarre.”

With a tearing sound, Hua Yitang ripped off two strips from the hem of his inner robe, cradled Lin Sui’an’s hand, and wrapped it carefully. His tone carried a trace of hesitation. “Just now, you…”

Lin Sui’an sighed. “I was careless. I’ve been poisoned too.”

Hua Yitang looked up abruptly, his eyes wide with alarm and fear.

“It’s all right. I just took Master Fang’s antidote — it’s already much better.” Lin Sui’an quickly reassured him.

Hua Yitang pressed his lips together, stepped half a pace closer, his breath nearly brushing the rim of her ear. Lin Sui’an felt unbearably ticklish and stepped half a pace back — only for Hua Yitang to suddenly tighten his grip and yank her back. With that pull, the two of them were nearly pressed together again.

Hua Yitang’s neck had turned red at a speed that was entirely visible to the naked eye, and yet he continued to hold firmly onto Lin Sui’an’s wrist. “Stay closer to me.”

Lin Sui’an couldn’t help swallowing, and cast a meaningful glance toward the bed. “Ah?”

“The Silver Toad Bath fragrance on my body is the catalyst for the antidote.”

Lin Sui’an rubbed her nose with her bandaged hand. “Ahem. So — how did you end up here?”

“Xian De Manor claimed you had killed Old Estate Master Qiu and sent people to Four Sides Manor to seize you. The Zhu family head hid me in the private storehouse’s secret passage. There were mechanisms inside — without my noticing, I ended up walking all the way here.” Hua Yitang finished wrapping the second hand, then held Lin Sui’an’s wrists gently, as if afraid she might bolt. “Did you come through the secret passage from Xian De Manor?”

Lin Sui’an nodded. “At the moment of Old Estate Master Qiu’s death, I saw the entrance to the secret passage through his memories.”

Hua Yitang puffed out his cheeks, looking like an indignant little pufferfish.

Lin Sui’an protested her innocence. “He happened to die right in front of me. I didn’t look into his eyes on purpose.”

Hua Yitang sighed, turning to look around. “Why would Four Sides Manor and Xian De Manor build a connecting secret passage? And why construct a hidden chamber in the middle of it?”

Lin Sui’an: “This passage should only be known to the heads of the Qiu and Zhu families.”

“Qiu Hong doesn’t know?”

“When Qiu Hong took over as family head, Old Estate Master Qiu had already lost his clarity of mind. He must have forgotten to tell him.”

The two exchanged a look and began searching the room from top to bottom. But after all that rummaging, all they came away with was two handsfull of dust — not a single useful clue.

Lin Sui’an picked up the red sheer garment hanging at the head of the bed and gave it a shake. Dust billowed up and made her sneeze. Hua Yitang’s face suddenly flushed deep crimson. He snatched the garment away and tossed it onto the bed.

Lin Sui’an stared at him in total bafflement. Hua Yitang wiped his hands on his robe with evident discomfort. “This garment is called the Evening Mirror Silk Dress. It is a garment worn next to the body — generally used to enhance… to enhance a sense of closeness between two people…”

The red silk dress was as thin and sheer as a cicada’s wings. Even wearing ten or eight layers of it would offer no coverage whatsoever. Worn directly against the skin, it would be breezy, cool — and tantalizingly semi-translucent, exuding a quiet, captivating allure.

Lin Sui’an raised an eyebrow. “Fourth Young Master Hua is truly well-read and knowledgeable — a man of the world.”

Hua Yitang immediately bloomed into a magnificent full-face blush. “I — I — I absolutely did not — I merely — merely read about it once in a — in a book — in a b-b-b-b-book—”

“Hold on,” Lin Sui’an said, suddenly struck by a possibility so absurd she almost laughed. “Don’t tell me this hidden chamber is actually a place where the heads of the Qiu and Zhu families used to secretly meet each other for a… a private tryst?!”

For a moment, the atmosphere took on a truly inexplicable awkwardness.

Hua Yitang had produced his little folding fan and was fanning it furiously, his gaze wandering everywhere but Lin Sui’an’s face — while his hand continued to hold fast to her wrist. His palm was hot and damp enough to steam buns.

Lin Sui’an stifled a laugh and poked him in the shoulder. Hua Yitang jolted and went stiff all over. He turned, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “You — what do you want?!”

Lin Sui’an rolled her eyes. “Let go. I want to move the bed aside and look underneath.”

The bed was solid hardwood and quite heavy. Given the limited space inside the hidden chamber, Lin Sui’an could only tip it upright and prop it against the wall. Hua Yitang held up the night-luminescent pearl and peered carefully over the floor and the underside of the bed — and sure enough, discovered another carved relief.

But this relief was neither a camellia nor a grape. It was some kind of strange plant. A slender stem, with two symmetrical clusters of three short leaves each, and at the very top, two fruits grew — like a pair of eyes. The whole plant resembled a sea serpent rising from the depths.

Lin Sui’an and Hua Yitang looked at each other, and in the other’s eyes each read the same answer: it was the Dragon God Fruit!

Lin Sui’an signaled Hua Yitang to step back two paces, then pressed the carved relief. It shifted aside to reveal a palm-sized bronze mechanism with a small lock aperture — identical to the lock mechanism they had encountered at the Dragon God Temple.

Lin Sui’an was immediately at a loss. “We’re stuck. Without Yun Zhong Yue, we have no way to open this mechanism lock.”

Before her words had finished, she saw Hua Yitang crouch down, pull the hairpin from his hair, and press the tail end. The tip of the pin popped open to reveal a slender steel needle about the length of a finger. He inserted it into the lock aperture and carefully worked it back and forth. A series of clicking sounds came from inside the mechanism lock. Then — a clear chime — and the lock sank inward. The whole floor gave a shudder. Lin Sui’an quickly grabbed Hua Yitang and pulled them both to the side.

The floor tiles rumbled open, revealing the entrance to a new secret passage — considerably wide, with a set of stairs descending into the darkness below.

Lin Sui’an looked at Hua Yitang with surprise. Hua Yitang gave a satisfied sniff and said smugly, “A mere mechanism lock — even that little thief Yun Zhong Yue can open one. How could it possibly stump me, the number one young master of Yangdu?!”

Lin Sui’an suppressed her laughter and raised her hand. “Shall we go?”

Hua Yitang: “Hm?”

“Aren’t you afraid of the dark?”

Hua Yitang smiled — the night-luminescent pearl lit up a set of brilliant white teeth, dazzling and impossibly captivating. He took hold of Lin Sui’an’s hand with careful, gentle fingers, and the two of them walked shoulder to shoulder into the deep, dark unknown.

Skit:

Hua Yitang: Pride of a man on the line — this mechanism lock will be opened no matter what it takes!