“If what you say is true, then this person must have fallen from the cliff.” Fangke set down the medicine bowl and wiped away the medicine that had seeped from the corner of He Sishan’s mouth. Thanks to Mu Xia’s obsessive preparations — never leaving without being fully equipped — a box of hundred-year-old ginseng had been loaded onto the carriage and was now simmered into a ginseng broth, which was precisely the life-saving remedy needed.

Hua Yitang frowned. “In the dead of night, why would He Sishan suddenly fall off a cliff?”

Lin Sui’an: “A misstep? Suicide?”

Fangke: “Suicide can be ruled out first.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because of his wounds.” Fangke dampened a cotton cloth with warm water and wiped He Sishan’s injuries one by one, analyzing as she cleaned. “The larger wounds are concentrated on his limbs and back, which indicates this person had a very strong will to survive. As he fell, his first instinct was to curl his body inward to protect his torso and head.”

Fangke then pried open He Sishan’s palms. The flesh of his palms was torn and mangled; the wound on his right hand was deep enough to expose bone. She set down the cotton cloth, applied some anesthetic powder, then picked up needle and thread to begin suturing the wound.

“During the fall, he attempted to grab onto the cliff face and tree branches with his hands, but failed each time. Fortunately, the branches on the cliff caught him several times and slowed him down. This person must have received special training to be able to make the most survival-oriented responses in the shortest possible time. It is thanks to all of this that his rate of descent was slowed — otherwise, never mind Lin Sui’an, even a god descending from heaven could not have caught him. He would certainly have died.”

Lin Sui’an: “This person’s musculature is well-developed — he must have practiced martial arts for many years. He doesn’t look like a scholar, and he doesn’t quite look like a jianghu wanderer either. He doesn’t have that roguish air typical of jianghu people; instead he has a kind of particular heroic and martial bearing, like… um…”

Hua Yitang: “The Wan Family of Qingzhou.”

“Right, very much like Wan Lin.”

He Sishan suddenly convulsed. Fangke quickly pressed down his hand — the needle nearly snapped — and frowned a little. She picked up the anesthetic powder and sniffed it, then clicked her tongue. “I’ve only ever sutured corpses before, so I never needed anesthetic powder and haven’t replaced the liquid in a long time. The efficacy has already worn off.”

Lin Sui’an: “……”

So from just now, Dr. Fang, you’ve been suturing without anesthesia?

Hua Yitang’s face scrunched up like a steamed bun. “D-d-doesn’t that hurt?”

“It certainly hurts, but it shouldn’t be a problem.” Fangke continued suturing, gesturing with her chin toward He Sishan’s legs. “Look at his right leg.”

The two — Hua and Lin — leaned in for a look. On He Sishan’s right shin was a circular scar roughly half a cun in length, ugly and fierce-looking. The surrounding flesh still had a faint discoloration, clearly an old injury of many years. Most strangely, his right leg was obviously thinner than his left by a full size, as though the muscle had atrophied.

Fangke: “His right leg was injured and left lingering damage, so it’s very difficult for him to exert force with it. In his daily life, standing and walking relies almost entirely on his left leg.”

Hua Yitang: “Are you saying He Sishan should essentially be lame?!”

Lin Sui’an: “Today we walked with him for a full day — this man walks normally and moves with vigorous strides. How is that possible?”

“Relying solely on the left leg to control his balance, yet leaving no trace visible to outsiders — this means this person has spent an unimaginable amount of time and effort training his gait, and his willpower is truly extraordinary.” Fangke finished suturing the two hands and began on the wounds on his legs. He Sishan’s body convulsed slightly; the eyeballs beneath his eyelids moved rapidly, but he made not a single sound and remained perfectly still.

Lin Sui’an clicked her tongue. “Thank goodness he’s already unconscious, or the pain would surely kill him.”

Fangke: “He is currently suspended between consciousness and unconsciousness, using his last remnants of willpower to keep his body from moving. This person is very interesting.”

Lin Sui’an sighed. “No wonder Second Miss Hua has her eye on him — he truly is a man of iron will and unyielding spirit!”

Hua Yitang let out a soft huff. “What a man of iron will and unyielding spirit — he took one look at you and cried like a baby.”

Lin Sui’an: “……”

Fangke: “Perhaps it’s because Lin Niangzi of the Pure Gate has such a fearsome reputation outside that she frightened this supposedly unyielding man into tears.”

The lamplight swayed gently. The room fell quiet. Before long, Fangke finished suturing all the wounds and carefully applied medicinal ointment. The ointment was a vivid green, giving off a reassuring medicinal fragrance — the only problem being that it made He Sishan’s head and entire body glow green, which had rather inauspicious implications.

Fortunately, Fangke quickly wrapped him in bandages, leaving only his face exposed. Goodness — now he looked like a freshly unearthed mummy, which was even more inauspicious.

Hua Yitang really couldn’t bear to look anymore. She pulled a blanket over He Sishan, which at least made things look more normal.

A knock came at the door — perfectly timed. Mu Xia arrived, bringing Hua Yifeng with her.

Hua Yifeng had come in great haste, hair loose and unpinned, a thin layer of snow dusting the top of her head. She wore a fox-fur cloak over a single thin garment beneath, her face pale from the cold. After entering, she walked quickly to the bedside, gazed quietly at He Sishan for a moment, and seeing that his breathing was normal, exhaled a soft breath of cold air. She fixed her gaze on Fangke and asked: “How are his injuries?”

Fangke: “He’s been saved. He won’t die. The remaining injuries just need rest to heal.”

“When will he regain consciousness?”

“That depends on him.”

“Will there be any lingering complications?”

“That cannot be said at present.”

While Hua Yifeng was asking her questions, her gaze was cold and clear, her manner composed and logical — as calm as a complete stranger who had never known He Sishan at all. This sent a shiver down Lin Sui’an’s spine, and she hastily jabbed Hua Yitang twice.

Hey, hey, hey — your second sister’s state right now is terrifying!

Hua Yitang swallowed, just about to speak, when Hua Yifeng asked again: “When did this happen?”

This time the question was directed at Hua Yitang.

Hua Yitang snapped upright. “About an hour ago.”

“Where?”

“At the Seven Wonders Scenery, Stone Bridge by Moonlight.”

“How did he get hurt?”

“He apparently fell from the cliff. Lin Sui’an caught him.”

Hua Yifeng closed her eyes. Her face went even whiter. When she opened them again, her gaze remained perfectly clear. She bowed deeply to Lin Sui’an: “Many thanks to Lin Niangzi for saving his life!”

“No — no need for thanks.” Lin Sui’an waved her hands repeatedly. “It was nothing.”

Indeed it was nothing — nothing except nearly snapping her hand off.

Hua Yifeng continued: “Why did he fall from the cliff?”

Hua Yitang frowned. “Three possibilities: one, a misstep; two, suicide; three, murder.”

Lin Sui’an added: “We already reasoned through it just now — suicide is almost certainly impossible.”

“The likelihood of a misstep is also very small,” Hua Yifeng said. “He has lived on Sanhe Mountain for twenty years. This place is his home — every scene, every object, every stone and blade of grass is intimately familiar to him. He would never go somewhere dangerous.”

Hua Yitang’s frown deepened. “Which means the third possibility is most likely — for instance, someone pushed him—”

At that very moment, He Sishan suddenly made a sound. Hua Yifeng’s figure shuddered. She turned and knelt at the bedside, gently holding He Sishan’s bandage-wrapped hands in both of hers. “What?”

He Sishan’s eyes remained shut, his eyeballs moving from time to time. He murmured something indistinct. Hua Yifeng pressed her ear close and listened for a moment, unable to make it out. Fangke leaned in as well, and after some time, shook her head.

Hua Yitang also leaned over to listen. “He seems to be singing — a terribly unpleasant tune—”

“Away, away with you!” Fangke pushed Hua Yitang aside, placed her palm on He Sishan’s forehead to check it, and said, “It’s nothing but the delirious muttering of a feverish patient in a coma. Stop causing trouble.”

“He has a fever? Is it serious?” Hua Yifeng asked.

“A normal reaction after an injury.” Fangke’s cool tone had a strange, calming power. She dashed off a prescription with swift, flowing brushwork and handed it to Mu Xia, whispered a few instructions to her, and Mu Xia hurried out.

Hua Yifeng touched He Sishan’s face with her fingertips. “What can I do?”

Fangke: “Stay by him. Talk to him.”

Hua Yifeng looked toward Fangke with a slight frown, seeming not quite to understand.

“When he was between life and death, it was Hua Yitang calling your name that pulled him back from the gates of hell,” Fangke said. “Tonight is the most dangerous time, and the will to survive is everything. Right now, you are his lifeline.”

Hua Yifeng stared blankly at Fangke, her eyes reddening, and large tears came rolling down one after another.

Fangke’s face twitched. She swiftly retreated two steps.

Hua Yifeng wept without a sound — simply gazing quietly at He Sishan, quietly letting her tears fall — but the overwhelming grief around her nearly made it impossible for others to breathe.

Fangke retreated another half-step, squeezing in beside Hua Yitang. The expressions on Hua Yitang and Lin Sui’an’s faces grew even more stricken, and the three of them huddled together, trembling.

Hua Yitang: “This is the first time in my entire life I’ve ever seen Second Sister cry!”

Fangke: “I only told the truth. It wasn’t intentional.”

Lin Sui’an: “You said it very well. Don’t say it again.”

The door creaked open. Mu Xia came in carrying a steaming bowl of medicine. The first thing she saw was Hua Yifeng weeping uncontrollably. She was stunned, and then turned to see the three cowards huddled in the corner. She let out a long sigh, carried the bowl forward, and said quietly: “Second Miss, it’s time to give him the medicine.”

Hua Yifeng nodded, swiftly wiped away her tears, and together with Mu Xia helped He Sishan up. She fed him the medicine one sip at a time, and her emotions gradually settled.

Hua Yitang, Lin Sui’an, and Fangke all let out a huge sigh of relief.

Mu Xia shot them a glare. Fangke immediately took the hint. “The patient needs rest. Go do something within your capabilities.”

With that, she shoved Hua Yitang and Lin Sui’an out the door with a thud, and shut it.

Outside, the cold wind blew and blew, the snowflakes drifted and drifted. Hua Yitang and Lin Sui’an sneezed simultaneously.

Hua Yitang: “How likely do you think it is that He Sishan was actually murdered?”

Lin Sui’an: “How likely do you think it is that given our luck, we’d stumble upon a case that’s simply a straightforward accidental fall?”

The two stared at each other for a long moment, then simultaneously let out a sigh.

Hua Yitang: “If someone truly wants to harm He Sishan, then the culprit—”

“Is right here within Sanhe Academy.” Lin Sui’an said.

“The place where He Sishan fell from the cliff—”

“Should have left some traces.” Lin Sui’an fastened her cloak tightly. “If the culprit knows they didn’t succeed—”

“In their shock, their expression would surely reveal a flaw.” Hua Yitang said.

Lin Sui’an: “I’ll go up the mountain to look for clues.”

Hua Yitang: “I’ll go meet with the people of Sanhe Academy.”

The two exchanged a smile, turned simultaneously, and set off — one heading into the vast dark night, the other toward the deep and shadowy courtyard.

Coming to Stone Bridge by Moonlight for the second time that night, fine snow had begun drifting through the night sky. Though it was the same scenery, it no longer held any trace of that gentle romantic quality — only cold and deadly stillness remained.

Lin Sui’an stood on the stone bridge, tilting her head back to look up at the sky. In her memory, He Sishan should have fallen from this direction — but the dark clouds were covering the moon, visibility was poor, and she could only barely make out a mountain silhouette standing alone in the snowy night.

Lin Sui’an recalled Qihe’s tour guide speech:

【Below the Stargazing Terrace, there is a deep ravine, and spanning the ravine is a natural stone bridge — this is one of the Seven Wonders, Stone Bridge by Moonlight.】

Lin Sui’an turned and descended the stone bridge, following the mountain path she remembered from that afternoon to climb back up the mountain. Before long, she spotted the familiar bamboo fence and the cloud-sea viewing platform of “Crimson Clouds at Dusk.” Continuing forward, there was another stretch of mountain path, still lined by bamboo fence railings. The wind grew stronger and stronger; snowflakes pelted thickly against her face, making it almost impossible to open her eyes. Lin Sui’an had no choice but to slow her pace, pressing close against the base of the mountain as she carefully climbed. After walking a full quarter-hour more, she reached the summit.

Lin Sui’an let out a long breath, wiped the snowmelt from her eyebrows, and looked out. At the summit was an open clearing of roughly a hundred square paces, ringed by sparse, low-lying shrubs. At the center was a raised platform — about two feet high, easily stepped up onto with a single stride — measuring approximately forty paces wide and fifty paces long. Standing on the platform, surrounded by utter silence, there was nothing but impenetrable darkness and blanched snow.

The platform also held a stone table and four stone benches. A star chart was carved into the tabletop. Lin Sui’an sat on one of the benches, pressing both hands against the star chart and tilting her head back. Swirling snowflakes fell like stars from the sky, landing icy cold on her forehead and the tip of her nose.

At this elevation, with the wide-open vantage point, it truly was an excellent place to observe stars.

If Lin Sui’an remembered correctly, Qihe had said that He Sishan was passionate about stargazing and would spend several hours here every night after dark. If tonight had been no exception—

Lin Sui’an stood up and walked a full circuit around the stargazing platform, then suddenly stopped. In the southeast direction, several shrubs were snapped — the breaks very fresh — and clearly something had crushed them with its weight. Lin Sui’an craned her neck to look, but it was too dark to see any further.

Lin Sui’an crouched down, swept away the surface snow with her hand, and felt around. The platform was constructed of stone slabs and mortar. The stone material was quite unusual — rough-textured with small pores — not only highly absorbent but also with excellent grip, similar to modern volcanic rock. Even dusted with snow, stepping on it felt completely secure with no sign of slipping.

Her fingers continued tracing along the edge of the platform, and Lin Sui’an discovered a depression — it must have been struck by something. The tip of her finger carried a faint metallic smell; it might be blood. From this spot to the shrubs was a distance of less than ten paces, and given the visual illusion created by the shrubs’ growth pattern, the edge of the platform was actually even closer to the cliff.

So He Sishan must have fallen from this position, rolled his way past the shrubs, snapped them as he went through, and then tumbled off the cliff.

Lin Sui’an pressed her head close to the ground and surveyed it for some time. Aside from snow and mud, she found nothing. She sighed inwardly.

Sure enough, when it came to the art of reading traces, Qian Jing left her ten streets behind.

Lin Sui’an was reluctant to give up and circled around twice more, but truly found no progress. Investigating further would be a waste of effort; she had no choice but to head back.

A quarter of an hour later, Lin Sui’an spotted Mu Xia waiting at the academy’s back gate with an umbrella.

Lin Sui’an quickened her pace. “How is Mountain Dean He?”

Mu Xia: “Still unconscious.”

“What about on Hua Yitang’s end?”

“Everyone is in the Ruomeng Ling room in the east courtyard.”

Lin Sui’an nodded. “Ruomeng Ling” was the room Bai Ruyi was staying in tonight — the largest study hall in the east courtyard, the most suitable for conducting an inquiry.

The book garden was closed at night, so Lin Sui’an and Mu Xia had to take a detour, passing through the small inner courtyard of the east wing. The lamplight from the study hall illuminated the snow below the windows, white and dazzling.

The Ruomeng Ling study hall was very quiet — only the sound of many rapid, shallow breaths could be heard. Lin Sui’an stood before the door, brushed the snow from her shoulders, and then shoved the door open with a bang.

A bone-chilling wind swept snowflakes inside, sweeping across everyone’s faces. In that single instant, Lin Sui’an saw the expressions on every person’s face — grief, numbness, terror, anguish — yet on one face, a fleeting look of anticipation and delight flashed by.

That face belonged to Qihe, the Academy Overseer of Sanhe Academy.

Skit

Qian Jing: Achoo — who’s talking about me?