“Ahem! What ‘gold-leaf dice deity’ — I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Hua Yitang scoffed. “Are you going to open or not?”

The game-keeper’s gaze bore into Yita. The wide, thick hand pressed over the dice cup tightened steadily, and the cup let out a grinding creak — and then, faintly, a crack began to appear.

This game-keeper was a trained fighter — and no weak one at that.

The crowd of gamblers took one look at the situation and scrambled to collect their stakes, backing away to three feet’s distance in a rush.

Yita’s expression showed not a flicker of hesitation. Her sapphire-blue eyes held the unfathomable depth of a boundless sea. “Gambling table. Rules. Must. Open.”

Lin Sui’an stepped forward, placed one hand lightly on Yita’s shoulder and the other gently on the tabletop for just a moment — then moved it away. On the table where her palm had rested was now a palm print pressed two centimeters deep.

The crowd of gamblers drew another sharp breath and retreated two more feet. Around the table, only the game-keeper, Yita, Lin Sui’an, and Hua Yitang remained. The atmosphere was taut as a drawn blade.

At that very moment, a sharp shout cut through the crowd: “Old Zeng — open it!” The game-keeper’s head snapped up. His expression turned exceedingly unpleasant. “Alliance Master!”

The crowd parted. Wuling Alliance Master Wu Chun walked in, his head wrapped in bandages with a few ragged hairs poking up through the gaps like stubborn weeds refusing to give up, and half his face plastered with gauze from which blood was faintly seeping.

“It’s a rare honor to have Lin Niangzi and Hua the Fourth grace our establishment for a bit of sport. Naturally we will accommodate you to the very end,” Wu Chun said.

Lin Sui’an blinked in surprise — she sensed no hostility from Wu Chun at all.

The game-keeper sighed and lifted the dice cup. “One, two, three, four — low.”

Yita opened hers as well. “Four fours — matching — quadruple payout.”

The gamblers erupted in an uproar.

“That Western boy is incredible!”

“First time I’ve ever seen four fours!”

“Quadruple payout! What’s that pouch of gold leaves worth?”

“Looking at the quality and weight — at least, at least…”

“One gold leaf is one liang of gold; one liang of gold is six strings of cash; one pouch of gold leaves is one hundred eighty strings of cash; quadruple that is seven hundred twenty strings of cash,” Hua Yitang said, fanning himself unhurriedly. “Alliance Master Wu, please settle the account.”

The game-keeper’s face went as black as the bottom of a pot. Wu Chun nodded. “Settle!”

Four black-faced men hauled in four bulging, heavy sacks and thumped them one by one onto the table — the dozens of strings of copper coins hit the table hard enough to make it wobble — and then a tray of gold ingots was set beside them. The visual was overwhelmingly dramatic.

Hua Yitang picked up a gold ingot, bounced it in his hand, nodded, then reached into his robe and tossed three more pouches of gold leaf coins onto the pile of ingots. “Alliance Master Wu — dare you continue?”

The entire room went dead silent. Wu Chun’s lips twitched — which pulled at the wound on his face — making him wince and bare his teeth. “The Hua clan of Yangdu has wealth to rival a nation, and a gold-leaf dice deity standing guard. The Wuling Alliance has no chance of winning.” He paused, then raised his chin. “Bullying with superior strength, playing a game already certain to be won — surely this must feel rather dull even for Hua the Fourth?”

Hua Yitang shook his head repeatedly, his fan waving in the most extravagant manner. “Not at all, not at all. Hua happens to love a game that’s already won — loves nothing more than bullying the weak with superior strength! And I especially love the sight of you all seething with humiliation yet completely helpless to do anything about it!”

Lin Sui’an: “Pfft!”

Yita: “Provocation tactic. On Fourth Brother. No use!”

Wu Chun’s face twitched violently. “I know what you want.” He drew a deep breath, pulled a scroll from inside his robe, and slammed it onto the gambling table. Black satin wrapping, a pale wood roller — and three characters as the title: Ten Purity Collection.

Lin Sui’an’s jaw dropped. Hua Yitang’s fan snapped to a stop.

Wu Chun’s face had finally stopped twitching. A smile spread across it. “This is an incomplete copy of the Ten Purity Collection from the Jingmen Sect’s Andu branch — it passed through many hands before ending up with the Wuling Alliance. It is said to be the most complete surviving fragment among all the incomplete copies of the Ten Purity Collection. To be candid with you, the saber technique I used against Lin Niangzi last night was developed through my study of this secret manual — designed specifically to counter the Ten Purity Collection’s saber style.”

Lin Sui’an nodded. “Your saber technique could indeed counter the Ten Purity Collection. Unfortunately, it could not counter me.”

Wu Chun gave a dry laugh. “The skill of the Thousand Purity Master is far beyond what I had anticipated. I accept my defeat wholeheartedly.”

“Do you wish to wager this against Hua?” Hua Yitang suddenly spoke.

Lin Sui’an turned in surprise. Hua Yitang’s expression had grown grave and still, his pupils dark and cold — as if a layer of ice had formed within them.

Wu Chun: “Yes!”

Hua Yitang: “What are we wagering?”

Wu Chun’s eyes flashed. “If I lose — the Ten Purity Collection and the Wuling Alliance both go to you. If I win — Yidu’s Jingmen Sect and the Wuling Alliance will divide the city at the river: everything south of the Jade River and north of the Brocade River belongs to the Wuling Alliance. From that point on, the two factions will not interfere with each other.”

Lin Sui’an scratched her head. “I should clarify — I am only temporarily holding the Thousand Purity, the title of Thousand Purity Master is in name only, and the Jingmen Sect is not mine to manage — the sect master is Jin Ruo —”

“I’m not wagering the Jingmen Sect’s territory,” Hua Yitang said. “I’ll wager the Hua clan’s. If I lose, every shop the Hua clan owns in Yidu goes to the Wuling Alliance.”

The moment those words landed, every jaw in the room dropped — a clattering, crashing cascade of dropped chins.

Lin Sui’an’s back gave out: What in the HELL?!

Wu Chun’s eyes bulged from his sockets like two goldfish blowing bubbles. “Does Hua the Fourth speak in earnest?”

Hua Yitang’s gaze was steady as the stars. “We can put it in writing!”

“Hua Yitang!” Lin Sui’an lowered her voice sharply. “Do you know what you’re —”

Hua Yitang suddenly grabbed Lin Sui’an’s wrist and gave it one light, quiet shake. His gaze was as still as calm water.

Lin Sui’an froze. What does that mean?

Hua Yitang gently guided Lin Sui’an behind him and stood with his spine perfectly straight. “How shall we wager?”

Wu Chun held Hua Yitang’s gaze for a long moment. He said with genuine respect: “Worthy of the title Yangdu’s Number One Wastrel. Truly, he throws a thousand gold coins for one beauty without a moment’s hesitation. What bearing!”

Hua Yitang frowned. “Save the idle words — how shall we wager?!”

Wu Chun laughed — since half his face couldn’t exert itself, only the other half had any expression, which looked exceedingly strange. “The time and place of the wager have yet to be decided, and the participants have yet to be selected. As for the specifics of the wager itself, I still need a few days to deliberate. May I ask Hua the Fourth to grant me some time?”

“Agreed!” Hua Yitang’s gaze swept over the Ten Purity Collection, and his fan came down with a sharp tap on the gambling table. “Once a bet is placed, the hand cannot be withdrawn — once the fan falls, there is no taking it back!”

Lin Sui’an walked slowly down the street, letting out a long sigh.

Yita hailed a cart and had all the copper coins and gold ingots won that night loaded onto it. Wu Chun proved fairly trustworthy — he dispatched two of his men to escort the cart. Lin Sui’an had been planning to hitch a ride back, but when she turned around, Hua Yitang had already gone off on his own. She couldn’t feel easy about a person as conspicuous as him wandering alone in the streets in the middle of the night, so she had no choice but to follow after him.

Hua Yitang seemed to have taken leave of his senses, walking forward with his head low and his eyes half-drooping. Lin Sui’an followed behind him, tilting her head to observe. She watched his fan slow down, then speed up — when it sped up, his lips moved mumbling something; when it slowed, he swayed his head from side to side — as if wound by the wrong kind of spring.

The moon had risen. Tonight was a first quarter moon, hanging high in the ink-blue sky. On either side of the ward road, the great scholar trees rustled softly, their leaves reflecting the moonlight — as if every branch were hung with tree after tree of silver scales.

Lin Sui’an heard the sound of flowing water. Before her, a grand stone arch bridge spanned the Jade River, with towering road lanterns lining it in place of trees, their light scattering downward, making the stone bridge look luminous and warm — as if built from jade itself. Passersby on the bridge paused to lean against the railings, admiring, chatting, laughing in low voices.

Hua Yitang finally stopped. He seemed weary from walking. He gazed out at the river and breathed out a long breath.

Lin Sui’an strolled forward and stood beside him, following his gaze out over the river. The water rippled with shifting light, winding away into the endless horizon.

Hua Yitang drew another deep breath, glanced surreptitiously at Lin Sui’an, and the tips of his ears turned faintly pink. He said, softly: “The silver glow drifts — and the water flows in longing —”

“That’s not necessary,” Lin Sui’an said.

Hua Yitang’s fan nearly flew from his hand. Behind those beautiful, wide eyes, a flash of panic came and went in an instant. “I — I haven’t finished —”

Lin Sui’an frowned. “I understand your meaning, but it really is not necessary.”

Hua Yitang opened his mouth, then closed it. His long lashes lowered, casting a faint shadow across his eyelids. Both hands tightened around his fan, his fingernails digging in again and again. “Was I too… presumptuous?”

“Too reckless,” Lin Sui’an said. “Setting aside whether that copy of the Ten Purity Collection is genuine, even if it is, I’ve already grasped roughly seventy or eighty percent of the Ten Purity Collection’s techniques. There was no need to wager this round against Wu Chun.”

Hua Yitang went rigid. After a long moment, he turned and stared blankly at Lin Sui’an. “You’re talking about the Ten Purity Collection?”

Lin Sui’an: “What else?”

Hua Yitang’s brow twitched. He pointed his fan at himself. “I was just reciting a poem — did you not hear me?”

Lin Sui’an felt helpless. “I’ve never once passed a poetry interpretation class in my life. I don’t understand it.”

“Say it plainly — what were you actually thinking?” Lin Sui’an poked Hua Yitang’s shoulder. “Staking such enormous odds for a mysterious and baffling wager — was it worth it?”

Hua Yitang pressed his lips tight together and looked directly into Lin Sui’an’s eyes, still — as if trying to see through them straight into her heart.

Lin Sui’an’s eyes were dark and bright, like a mountain stream brimming with stars on a summer night, clear and… calm. Hua Yitang felt close to tears — she truly had not understood a single word he said…

What is this person even doing? Lin Sui’an was thoroughly baffled.

Before her, Hua Yitang’s face ran through a whole sequence: brow knitting, eyelids flickering, brow smoothing, then sighing like an old man — and at the end, he actually looked at her and smiled.

And then, smiling, he said: “Yes.”

The wind suddenly strengthened. On the young man’s nine-layered Glowing Firefly Robe, layer after layer shifted in and out of sight in the deep, dark night — like countless pristine, luminous peony petals.

Lin Sui’an’s chest went suddenly, sharply tight, and the sound of her own heartbeat disappeared.

Hua Yitang reached up, meaning to smooth the strands of Lin Sui’an’s hair that the wind had scattered, but his fingers stopped half a centimeter from her temple — then drew back. “As long as it is something that belongs to you, it must be recovered.”

Lin Sui’an: “…Huh?”

“We are partners — sharing the same fate, bound by the same glory and disgrace. It was not you alone Wu Chun challenged — it was us!” Hua Yitang’s expression turned serious. “To date, we have reclaimed the Jingmen Sect chapters of Yangdu, the Eastern Capital, Guangdu, and Yidu — and we still have not found any truly useful copy of the Ten Purity Collection. For an outsider like Wu Chun to claim so confidently that his copy is the most complete surviving fragment from the Andu Yidu branch — there is certainly something suspicious about that.”

Lin Sui’an snapped back with a jolt, quickly running back through the scenes of her battle with Wu Chun. “You suspect — this copy of the Ten Purity Collection came from another Jingmen Sect branch? Or from — that Third Master?”

Hua Yitang raised an eyebrow. “Worth a wager, isn’t it?”

Lin Sui’an’s eyes blazed. “Worth it!”

Hua Yitang grinned with satisfaction, his little fan going ta-ta-ta — ta-ta-ta — ta-ta-ta —

Hmm? What was that sound?

Lin Sui’an’s ear twitched toward it. She looked — and found a young couple pressed close together, cheek to cheek, sneaking little kisses on each other every so often.

Lin Sui’an was deeply astonished. Has the Tang nation’s social climate opened up to this extent?

But when she turned to look more carefully, she realized that the entire Feihong Bridge was filled with couples — pairs of men and women with arms around waists, holding hands, whispering… so this place really was a famous romantic rendezvous point.

Hua Yitang averted his eyes in discomfort, his little fan waving faster and faster — yet the harder he fanned, the hotter his face burned. He hummed and hawed for a long while, unable to come up with any convincing excuse to get them moving.

“That… this… uh… Hua doesn’t actually know… this place… here… over there… uh — Lin Sui’an, what on earth are you doing?!”

Lin Sui’an hadn’t done anything outrageous — she’d simply stretched her neck, perked up her ears, risen on her tiptoes, and was trying to eavesdrop on the couple next to them.

Hua Yitang’s face went black as the bottom of a pot in an instant. He grabbed Lin Sui’an’s hand and dragged her away. “What is there worth looking at — let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

Lin Sui’an: “Oh ho ho, wait, wait, wait — let me look a little more.”

“Don’t look! Home! Now!”

“Look at those two over there — oh ho, so bold!”

“Close your eyes! Plug your ears! Shut your brain!”

In the moonlight, a young man bright as a flower led a young woman full of lively curiosity through Feihong Bridge and ran off into the ten thousand glowing lights of the city. The young woman’s laughter and the young man’s endless chatter drifted along like the night wind — warm and gentle.

Mini Theater

At the Hua clan’s ninety-nine-room mansion.

Mu Xia hummed a little tune as he mounted the masterpiece that Hua Yitang had poured his heart and soul into, and hung it up high.

“The silver glow drifts and the water flows in longing — in longing, love winds endlessly on; Endlessly, spring presses deep into bone — one glance, and my heart was taken, I pray for white-haired togetherness.”

Mu Xia looked at it from the left, then from the right. The longer he looked, the more uneasy he felt.

“The fourth young master seems to have forgotten the rhyme scheme in this love poem again — will Lin Niangzi think less of it?”