The second quarter of the Hour of Hai. Heze Quarter.

Little Fish sat by the window and let out a quiet sigh.

The lamp flame flickered and swayed in the passing breeze, much like her heart at this moment — unsettled and adrift.

She was very worried about Yita. Ever since Dr. Fang had become a suspect in Old Manor Master Qiu’s killing, Yita had disappeared. Everyone was saying that Dr. Fang’s household had fled in guilt, but deep in her heart, she simply could not believe it.

Little Fish trusted only one thing: a person’s character is written in their face.

Someone as beautiful-looking as Yita could not possibly be a bad person.

And Dr. Fang’s elder sister, though not as beautiful, had clear and bright eyes — she could not possibly be a bad person either.

There was definitely some misunderstanding here.

Little Fish’s grandfather peered in through the doorway from outside, and also let out a quiet sigh.

His granddaughter had grown up. Her heart had grown heavy. These past few days she had had no appetite and no interest in sleep, and no amount of persuasion could move her — he could only let her be.

Little Fish rested her head on her arm and stared vacantly out the window. The ink-blue sky was like fine silk, rippling with the luminous shimmer of drifting clouds, making her think of Yita’s golden hair and blue eyes.

“Yita — are you alright — ” Little Fish closed her eyes and murmured softly.

From outside the window came the soft crunch of footsteps. Little Fish felt it in her heart, and her eyes snapped open. In the deep darkness of night, a handsome golden-haired young man came gracefully into view.

Little Fish was overjoyed. She glanced back — the light in her grandfather’s room had already gone out. She climbed up and leapt out the window, running to stand before the golden-haired young man. “Yita! You’re alright?!”

Ripples stirred in Yita’s blue eyes. “I — am fine.”

“So many days — where did you go? I was so worried about you!”

“I am sorry. I was — very busy.”

“About Dr. Fang’s elder sister — is what they’re saying true?”

Yita looked steadily at Little Fish’s face. “Pigs — do not kill people!”

Little Fish sniffled and nodded vigorously. “Yes! I believe Yita!”

Yita was taken aback for a moment, then smiled softly — beautiful as the brightest star on a summer night.

“Little Fish — I need — your help.”

Little Fish stared like she was in a daze, and only came back to herself after a long moment. She smiled with reddened cheeks. “Of course! What kind of help?”

The third quarter of the Hour of Hai. Zhenze Quarter.

Zhu’s mother lay in bed tossing and turning, unable to sleep, her heart a tangled mess.

She did not know who to believe.

A voice deep inside kept reminding her that what Fangke said about the talisman water being poisonous was well-reasoned and evidenced — in all likelihood, true. But the overwhelming spectacle of the Dragon God’s manifestation had once again confirmed for her that the Dragon God truly did exist…

And then there was that useless son of hers — a county chief registrar, and he had been scared out of his wits at the sight of the Dragon God. He hadn’t even come home to discuss things with her — he was truly hopeless.

Thinking this, Zhu’s mother grew more and more irritated, and in the end decided she might as well not sleep at all. She got up and threw on her outer robe, intending to walk a few laps around the courtyard to clear her head. The moment she opened the door, she found Zhu Dachang standing rigidly right outside. Zhu’s mother unleashed a torrent of words at him:

“In the middle of the night — are you trying to scare your mother to death, standing there like that?!”

Zhu Dachang clasped his hands in a salute. “Mother — there is someone who wishes to see you.”

Zhu’s mother delivered a slap to him. “In the dead of the night — who wants to see me? A ghost?”

Zhu Dachang looked slightly aggrieved. He covered his head with one hand and stepped aside, making a welcoming gesture.

Zhu’s mother’s eyes went wide. Before her, standing gracefully in the night breeze, was a young man of strikingly beautiful appearance, dressed in black robes.

“Mutang?! You’re safe!” Zhu’s mother cried out in delight.

“Mutang” gave a light smile and a bow. “Cheng County Lieutenant of Qingzhou, Hua Yitang. I greet Aunt Zhu.”

The second quarter of the Hour of Hai. Rongze Quarter.

Old Eight of the Qiu Clan had just had a fierce argument with a group of men from Xiande Manor and left in a fury. He was cursing loudly to himself the whole way home.

“Not a shred of evidence, not a single witness, and you go around saying Miss Fang is a killer. Did any of you personally see Miss Fang kill anyone? The county’s Chief Registrar Zhu hasn’t even said a word yet — who do you lot of bastards think you are, deciding Miss Fang is guilty?! Miss Fang — do you think I don’t know what kind of person she is?! She is the one who saved the life of this Qiu Old Eight! Would someone like that just randomly kill people for no reason?!”

Qiu Old Eight grew more enraged with every word, his large feet stamping the ground so hard it rang — dong dong dong — making his shadow tremble three times over.

Suddenly, Qiu Old Eight stopped in his tracks.

He saw two shadows. One was his. The other had appeared behind him without any warning, like a ghost’s shadow —

The night wind howled, bone-chillingly cold. Qiu Old Eight swallowed hard, silently recited “Dragon God protect me” three times, and spun around, swinging his wolf-tooth club with a yell. “Hah! Take this!”

The club froze in midair. He did not bring it down.

A hand had casually caught his elbow.

Lin Sui’an shook her head and sighed. “Still no improvement at all, Qiu Old Eight.”

Qiu Old Eight’s wolf-tooth club clanged to the ground, nearly smashing his own foot.

“Miss F — Miss Fang! You’re alright! You really are alright! Thank goodness, thank goodness! I knew it — with skills like yours, that bunch of incompetents with Qiu Hong could never catch you!”

Lin Sui’an studied Qiu Old Eight in silence for a long moment. His gaze was frank and open, without a trace of evasion or hesitation. She felt a genuine touch of warmth in her heart, and said seriously, “You said before — that you would repay a life-saving debt even at the cost of your own life. Does that still stand?”

Qiu Old Eight’s expression sharpened. He thumped his chest. “Qiu Old Eight’s word, once given, cannot be recalled by eight horses!”

Lin Sui’an smiled.

The girl’s eyes were bright and glittering, startlingly lovely. Qiu Old Eight felt his heart flutter, and suddenly recalled what he had said before. A thought crept in, privately:

*Actually — offering himself in marriage wouldn’t be so bad, either — *

Ling Zhiyan sat in the records hall of the Court of Judicial Review, idly flipping through case files one after another, while his eyes drifted to a cluster of yellow wildflowers growing in the corner outside the hall. Their name was unknown to him — small yellow petals swaying alone in the breeze.

Since Lin Niangzi and Hua Yitang had left, the Eastern Capital had been utterly peaceful. Officers and constables from the Metropolitan Prefecture and the Court of Judicial Review had nothing to do but patrol the streets daily, keeping endless vigil — and in the course of it all had rounded up every small-time thief and pickpocket in the city, leaving them with nothing to do but pick lice to pass the time.

The President of the Court of Judicial Review, Chen Yanfan, was delighted. Every day, past noon, he vanished without a trace — reportedly visiting a new medical clinic for treatment of his hair loss — and dumped all the Court’s miscellaneous matters on the Vice President, Zhang Huai.

Ling Zhiyan was so idle his whole body had gone stiff. He had read through every unresolved, cold, bizarre, and headless case in the records hall multiple times, and in particular the Cheng County Gazetteer of Qingzhou in his hands — he could almost recite it backward from memory.

Take, for instance, this passage from the Cheng County records on geography and climate, which he found particularly worth noting.

“Cheng County’s terrain is unlike other places — it borders a lake and backs against a mountain, the mountains deeply wreathed in mist, the lake broad and near the sea.”

“Cheng County is wet for much of the year, and especially so in the fourth month. After prolonged rainy and humid periods, on days when the skies clear and clouds are wide, the lake and sky become one color, and extraordinary visions may be seen soaring in the air — surpassing even the illusory landscapes of Penglai. In keeping with this, one ward in Cheng County is even named Penglai in reference to this sight.”

“As for the nature of this extraordinary vision — it occurs every year, but not on a fixed day, with intervals of no more than twenty days. In ancient times, those of great skill could observe the stars and heavenly phenomena to predict the timing of the vision.”

“Extraordinary vision — extraordinary vision…” Ling Zhiyan’s gaze followed the drifting clouds into the distant sky. “Could this be — “

“Ling Gong, Ling Gong, Ling Gong! A letter has arrived!” Ming Feng came running in clutching a carrier pigeon. Ming Shu, who had been sleeping soundly with his head on the desk, jolted awake in such a fright that he threw out his back and groaned in pain, face contorted.

Ling Zhiyan sighed helplessly. “Ming Feng — how many times have I told you — act with patience and restraint — “

“It’s a letter from Hua Fourth Young Master!”

“What?!” Ling Zhiyan slammed a hand on the table, lunged for the pigeon, and tore the message cylinder from the pigeon’s leg in one pull. The dutifully dedicated pigeon had three feathers yanked out by the frantic Judicial Investigator of the Court, and flew away crying — coo coo coo.

Ming Feng: “…”

Ming Shu rubbed his eyes. “What does Fourth Young Master Hua want with Ling Gong?”

Ling Zhiyan tore through the carrier pigeon letter at lightning speed. His eyes grew brighter and brighter. In three swift movements he gathered up the Cheng County Gazetteer from the desk, lifted his robes, and strode out.

Ming Shu and Ming Feng scrambled to follow. “Where are you going, Ling Gong?!”

“Qingzhou — Cheng County!”

Qiu Thirty-Two was exactly what his name suggested: among the extended kin of the Qiu Clan, he ranked thirty-second. He was a distant relative — some sort of great-great-grandnephew of Qiu Hong — of low seniority and no real talent. His parents had died early, leaving him in poverty, and day-to-day it was only his kinsman Qiu Old Eight who was willing to spare him a little help now and then. Now he made his living chopping and selling firewood. Nearly forty years old, he still hadn’t managed to find a wife, and it was looking more and more like he would live and die alone.

In the middle of the night, a couple of days ago, his kinsman Qiu Old Eight had come to his home in a mysterious and secretive manner. He urged him repeatedly and emphatically to go to the back hills of Cheng Mountain today to chop wood. He must go the moment the city gate opened in the morning — under no circumstances could he be late. He also specially reminded him to wear clean clothes, and if he encountered anyone on the road, to tell the truth and nothing but.

Qiu Thirty-Two was completely at a loss, but given that this particular kinsman had helped him generously on many occasions and was a decent man, he thought it over and followed his instructions. He dug out his only unpatched set of clothes, strapped on his axe and rope, and before dawn was already at the city gate waiting. The moment the gate opened at dawn, he hastened up the mountain.

Cheng Mountain was the home of Longshen Temple. The front slopes were guarded by Longshen Temple disciples, so he naturally could not go there without permission. Qiu Thirty-Two usually chopped wood on the back slopes — he knew the paths well, and being accustomed to scrambling up and down heights, he had abundant energy. In less than half an hour, he had reached the midway point of the back slopes of Cheng Mountain and set to work for the day.

The early morning light was fresh and new, and the mountain forest was like a vast ocean. Small pale-yellow flowers spread their delicate petals, like bashful young women — they were the most common wildflowers in the mountain, with only a faint fragrance, but at this time of year they bloomed in such numbers that the fragrance grew thick.

Qiu Thirty-Two was a rough sort and had no particular fondness for fragrant smells. He just wanted to finish his work and get home to rest. Swinging his axe in a sweat, he hacked away. The axe had been passed down from his grandfather — it was old, and the blade had a notch in it. Qiu Thirty-Two had no money to have a new one made, so he made do with what he had. Chopping thick timber with it was difficult and exhausting, and his arms grew sore quickly. Qiu Thirty-Two had no choice but to stop and rest, tossing the axe on the ground — but just at that moment, something uncanny happened: the axe shot out with a whoosh, dove into the fragrant forest of wildflowers, and vanished from sight.

Qiu Thirty-Two was horrified. That notched axe was his only worldly possession — without it, he would be reduced to begging in the streets. He scrambled after it in a panic.

The forest was thick and lush, with sunlight spilling down in scattered patches. The wildflowers flickered in and out of light and shadow, like tiny little spirits blinking their eyes open and shut. Qiu Thirty-Two stumbled deep into the densest part of the forest, then gradually slowed to a halt, sensing something was wrong. He looked all around — somehow, he had ended up somewhere he had never been before. The flower fragrance was growing richer and more intoxicating by the moment, burying even the calls of birds and insects within it. The silence was eerie.

Qiu Thirty-Two broke out in a cold sweat, thinking perhaps he had encountered a mountain spirit or forest phantom. He pressed his palms together and bowed in all four directions, then carefully began backing away.

“Heh — ” a bright, crystalline laugh drifted down from the air. Without warning, a wind rose, the leaves rustled and hissed, yellow wildflower petals filled the sky in swirling drifts, and Qiu Thirty-Two’s knees buckled beneath him. He dropped to the ground and kowtowed repeatedly, crying out, “Dragon God protect me! Dragon God protect me! Dragon God protect me!”

As if calling out made it worse — the moment he called, the laughter grew louder, pouring in from all four directions at once, laughing on and on and on. Then, abruptly, the laughter shifted and became a man’s voice — still carrying laughter in it.

“Hardworking woodcutter — there is no need to be afraid. Raise your head.”

Qiu Thirty-Two had his head buried in a pile of wildflowers. “I dare not, I dare not! Immortal Lord, please forgive me — I — I — I did not intentionally intrude upon the Immortal Lord’s domain! I — I — I only came to find my axe!”

“Hardworking woodcutter — is the axe you have lost this golden one, or this silver one?”

The voice drifted near and far, sometimes as though from ten thousand miles away, sometimes murmuring right beside his ear. The very last line was breathed practically against the back of Qiu Thirty-Two’s collar.

Qiu Thirty-Two startled and raised his head — then froze in utter astonishment.

Some twenty or more steps away from him, two axes hung suspended in midair. One was pure gold, one was pure silver. In the full glare of sunlight, their golden and silver radiance flashed and dazzled with a splendor of opulence.

Qiu Thirty-Two had never in his life seen such a massive piece of gold or silver. For a moment he was completely stupefied, his mouth hanging half open, nearly drooling.

The laughter rang out again, and a figure stepped through the air on flower petals into the space between the golden and silver axes. Draped in long-sleeved, wide-sleeved robes of light and layered fabric — like a piece of cloud cut and woven into cloth — with jet-black hair streaming in the air, catching the sunlight and seeming to release ten thousand rays of rainbow brilliance.

Against the light, his features were nearly impossible to make out — yet Qiu Thirty-Two somehow felt as though before him a hundred flowers were in bloom, a thousand birds were calling, ten thousand stars were competing in brilliance, a beauty that surpassed all description — even those enormous gold and silver axes could not outshine the boundless luminosity of this figure.

“Hardworking woodcutter — look carefully now. Which of these axes is the one you lost?”

The gold and silver axes drifted slowly closer — almost within arm’s reach.

With these two axes, never mind finding a wife — he could buy a courtyard in Guangdu City and open a shop!

Qiu Thirty-Two swallowed hard and reached out to grab the golden axe. Before his fingers touched it, a piercing pain shot through his palm. He snatched his hand back, and found half a pine needle embedded in his skin. He was nearly scared out of his mind. The words Qiu Old Eight had drilled into him rang out in his ears:

“No matter who you encounter — tell the truth. If you don’t, the consequences will be endless!”

Qiu Thirty-Two kowtowed frantically. “I — the axe I lost is an iron one!”

“Ah, what an honest woodcutter,” the figure in the light said with a smile. The gold and silver axes in the air shot with a whoosh into the dense forest, and a biting rush of cold wind pressed down over the grass and leaves. On the ground before Qiu Thirty-Two, his iron axe appeared. “For your honesty, this divine being shall grant you a reward.”

A gleaming golden leaf drifted down on the sunlight, and landed on the iron axe with a soft ding.

The forest fell utterly silent. The wind stirred. Qiu Thirty-Two seemed to hear the sound of the flower fragrance peeling away layer by layer and settling softly to the ground. Then the mountain forest came back to life — birds singing their songs, insects humming their tunes — as though celebrating something wonderful and mysterious that had slipped in and then slipped quietly away.

Qiu Thirty-Two knelt there in a daze for a long while before at last daring to reach out and pick up the golden leaf. It was heavy in his hand. He put it between his teeth and bit.

Good heavens — it was real gold!

The case is starting to come together!

Everyone, help me think — is there any clue I might have forgotten? (Starry eyes)