She felt that previous action was somewhat familiar.

In the past in the palace, before using chopsticks, someone would always take out a snow-white handkerchief to wipe the chopsticks once more. She had felt this habit was actually bad—no matter how white the handkerchief, taking it from one’s chest would be full of bacteria, not as good as rinsing directly with hot water. Only then was this habit canceled.

Was this person also from the palace?

However, this kind of habit was common among many noble families in Dahuang—not everyone understood the concept of bacteria.

She had already picked through all the dishes, making them look quite messy, yet he didn’t seem to mind, casually picking food to eat. Jing Hengbo observed his eating posture—this was one of the behaviors that best revealed a person’s upbringing.

People from good backgrounds always ate with restraint—even if you asked them to act crude, they couldn’t pull it off.

He indeed didn’t look like a martial world vagrant. His eating posture was very elegant, chewing silently. Even feeling her gaze, he remained composed.

Jing Hengbo’s eyes flashed.

She began enthusiastically serving him food.

Picking up some vegetables with her chopsticks: “Vegetables are most nutritious.”

Picking up a piece of radish: “Radish aids digestion.”

Then pushing all the mutton to him: “Mutton strengthens yang.”

He accepted everything, except when hearing the words “strengthens yang”—he seemed somewhat dismissive. Otherwise, his expression showed neither difficulty nor pleasure, as if he was simply eating.

Jing Hengbo exhaled a long breath in her heart.

Vegetables, radish, mutton—these were all things Gong Yin absolutely wouldn’t eat. Especially mutton—he would frown and want to vomit if he smelled mutton from three li away, commanding it be removed immediately.

But then again, Gong Yin didn’t eat so many things that in the end, she had no idea what he actually liked.

She felt somewhat dazed—sometimes did knowing too much become not knowing at all?

Then she noticed that all the dishes she had previously picked, the ones she liked, he didn’t touch.

Did he not like them? Did he find her saliva disgusting? Or was he politely letting her eat them?

This action made her think of the past, as if someone had once treated her this way. But in an instant, things had changed and people had gone.

She slowly chewed a piece of beef, suddenly losing her appetite.

He looked up at her and suddenly asked: “What was the most memorable meal you’ve ever eaten?”

This was the first time he had actively asked her something. She was lost in thought and casually replied: “Three people drinking Dragon Mountain Ice Brew under a maple tree…” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized her slip and quickly stopped.

“Dragon Mountain Ice Brew?” Sure enough, he said suspiciously: “You’re bragging, right? That’s a famous court wine for imperial use—ordinary people can’t drink it.”

“Wow, you actually caught that—your IQ is really high, hehe.” She waved her chopsticks, immediately changing the subject: “So what was your most memorable meal?”

He lowered his eyes, silent for a long while, then said: “This one.”

“You’re just being polite!” Jing Hengbo scoffed.

“Because you invited me to eat,” he said.

“Has no one ever invited you to eat before?” she asked strangely.

“Someone like me,” he said slowly, “who would invite me?”

“What’s wrong with someone like you?” Jing Hengbo blinked. “Besides being a bit dirty, smelly, having a strange temper, bad sleeping posture, and being rather greedy… I think everything else is fine.”

His chopsticks paused, then he continued eating silently.

“Really.” She said with deep feeling, “I think in this world, people should never judge by appearances, never judge people by looks. Many people appear bright and clean, spotless, but deep down they’re thieves and prostitutes, doing all kinds of bad things… hey hey hey, why are you eating so fast? Hey hey hey, that’s my favorite beef… ah ah ah, all the rice is gone! I haven’t eaten yet!”

Jing Hengbo looked at the empty rice bowl tearfully. The fellow across from her wiped his mouth and said: “I’m full.”

“I’m not full!”

“So,” he pointed at her mouth, saying calmly, “next time when eating, remember not to talk so much.”

Jing Hengbo: “…”

After the lesson of one meal, she reflected painfully and decided to drive away this roommate.

“Why don’t you go stay next door?” She first tried to persuade him earnestly. “Two people squeezing into one bed is too cramped, why bother? There are so many empty rooms here—you can pick any one. Sleep when you want to sleep, roll around when you want to roll around, wouldn’t that be better?”

“No, I’m afraid of the dark,” he said.

She thought, damn, if you’re afraid of the dark, did you dig that tunnel in sunlight?

“If you’re afraid of the dark, how about choosing the room next to mine? Look, next door has a five-star suite with a bathroom.” She felt her temper was getting better and better, still smiling sweetly at this moment. “Look, the toilet over there is cleaner than this one.”

“You snore. I can pat you awake anytime. If I sleep next door, I’d have to get up constantly to pat you—too troublesome.”

Pat your ass! Your whole family snores!

When persuasion failed, she started singing, belting out “I am a little little little bird, wanting to fly but never flying high.” Her voice shook the rafters, completely inhumane.

He said it sounded good. Sing another one.

After singing, she started banging the basin, creating ear-piercing noise. She made herself dizzy with the racket, but when she turned around, he was asleep.

Occupying the very center of her straw bed.

Jing Hengbo angrily leaned against the wall, refusing to sleep no matter what. After a while, she glanced at that fellow—still sleeping shamelessly.

She grimaced and rubbed her stomach.

She needed to pee—what to do?

She had wanted to drive him away earlier precisely because she wanted to solve a certain physiological problem, but this fellow stubbornly refused to leave. Now only her upper body could move while her lower body was still stiff—what to do? Crawl to the toilet in front of him? Even if she could crawl up there, how would she manage?

The fellow on the straw pile suddenly turned over and said: “Is the toilet next door really that good?”

“Huh?” With her mind full of toilet thoughts, she didn’t expect him to wake up and suddenly ask this question. Before she could react, he had already gotten up, saying: “Then let’s take a look.”

“Look at what?”

Then she understood what he meant to look at.

He dragged out a toilet from behind a curtain in the cell, placing it against the wall. He walked to her side and reached out to pick her up.

“What are you doing!” Jing Hengbo immediately reached for her dagger.

Without saying a word, he carried her and plopped her down on the toilet.

She sat there stupefied.

He flicked his finger, and she immediately felt her waistband loosen—her belt had fallen off. She quickly grabbed her waist with both hands.

The belt was crucial—if she didn’t hold tight, she’d really be running naked.

He didn’t look at her, gazing around instead: “Take a look at this toilet’s color and style. I’ll go see if there are any cleaner toilets.” After saying this, he leisurely walked to the bars, easily bent the iron bars apart, and went next door.

Jing Hengbo once again stared dumbfounded at his back disappearing into the darkness.

After being stunned for a while, she chuckled.

This was possible too?

Both funny and grateful—this fellow with a strange temper was sometimes really thoughtful. More importantly, his thoughtfulness included respect, never making her lose face.

Knowing he would return soon, she quickly blushed and rapidly solved her problem. Just as she was about to tie her clothes, she suddenly heard the skylight above seem to make a sound. Startled, forgetting her legs were still weak, she whoosh quickly tried to stand up, but her legs gave out halfway.

Smack—she fell flat on the ground, her pants not yet pulled up…

There was movement overhead, footsteps next door rapidly approaching. Jing Hengbo wanted to cry—her bottom wasn’t covered yet! Now it was great—she’d either be seen by whoever was at the skylight above or by the tomb-raiding idiot below. What to do?

Hurry and pull, pull hard. She was like a snow-white worm, desperately twisting…

Footsteps rapidly approached, then suddenly stopped, as if shocked.

Jing Hengbo hadn’t finished pulling up her pants, only managing to grab a handful of straw and scatter it over herself.

She turned her head away, feeling both embarrassed and annoyed, really wanting to beat up both the people above and below.

There was vague movement above, seeming like someone pulling at the window. Suddenly “pop”—a finger strike shot upward, and the skylight shattered with a crash.

The next instant, a gust of wind swept over, helping her up. As he helped her, his finger lightly brushed, and her pants safely returned to their proper position.

Jing Hengbo exhaled a long breath, quickly gripping her belt. Glancing sideways, she saw that fellow had also kept his head turned, looking like a proper gentleman avoiding improper sights.

She felt slightly reassured. Watching him wave his sleeve to considerately push the toilet back behind the curtain, she exhaled another long breath, almost grateful to him.

There was an indescribable awkwardness. Meeting a careless fool would have left her helpless for a long time. Fortunately, though he seemed foolishly straightforward, he had his own rare delicacy.

She leaned against the straw bed, her heart pounding for quite a while, more nervous than being a thief.

After a long time of quiet, she looked at the water-stained ceiling, her expression dazed.

It seemed not long ago, there had been a similar incident—the awkwardness of urgent physiological needs, someone calmly solving the problem for her…

No, not recently—it was long, long ago, as if from another lifetime. Opening her eyes again was like being reborn.

Green leaves swayed in her mind, silver nets fluttered, seeming to echo with her bobbing up and down in the water, crafty monkeys darting about, and her shocked screams and loud laughter.

So far away, so far away.

She slowly pressed her elbow over her face, covering her eyes. Since that day, she often made this gesture.

Only this way could those uninvited fountain-like memories and clarity seem to be firmly pressed down.

There was movement beside her—someone deeply watching her. She felt the presence but didn’t move her arm.

He also didn’t move, standing in the darkness, quietly watching her half-hidden face.

Just now, at that moment, he had actually seen…

In the darkness, she lay collapsed on the ground, her robe half-lifted and askew to one side. The middle section of her body was snow-white like bright moon, glowing faintly in the dim, obscure light. Or perhaps it was a section of jade carving, illuminated by moonlight leaking through window cracks, flickering with warm luster, suddenly reminding one of all the exquisite beauty in the world, those existences that made eyes linger.

And memories of those equally exquisite and beautiful silhouettes that one could never forget.

…

She never moved.

But he seemed to have watched too long, so that her heart suddenly felt oppressed, and she couldn’t help opening her eyes.

Opening her eyes, she saw he was already sitting cross-legged across from her, eyes downcast, as if the earlier intense gaze was just her illusion.

She looked at the ceiling and lazily smiled, feeling the air currents in her body had gradually calmed. Before long, she should be able to get out without anyone rescuing her.

While thinking this, drowsiness came again. She irresistibly closed her eyes. Before sinking into sleep, she vaguely heard noisy voices outside. In her daze, she thought, it’s so noisy—have the comedic duo arrived? The skylight was just shattered, why didn’t anyone jump down…

She seemed to sleep for a long time, yet seemed not to sleep at all. For a period, she felt completely blank. When she suddenly opened her eyes, before her was still the unchanging dim light, and him beside her.

This fellow had somehow moved to sleep beside her again.

The two were now very close. Jing Hengbo immediately saw the dark circles under his eyes. She frowned, strange that this fellow spent most of his time in prison sleeping, yet still looked sleep-deprived.

When he closed his eyes, his posture was serene. She thought that perhaps everyone looked this serene when asleep, while quietly reaching out her hand.

There was an action she’d wanted to do for a long time.

Her finger touched the edge of his mask—one lift would do it.

He was completely unaware, breathing deeply.

Jing Hengbo didn’t hesitate, applying force with her finger—

“Bang.” Suddenly an explosion sounded overhead, so loud the entire prison was buzzing. He suddenly opened his eyes. Jing Hengbo was startled but didn’t withdraw her hand, still yanking hard.

She had to know!

He raised his head.

Under the mask was a young, ordinary face. The expression on that face was bewildered and surprised, perfectly fitting the current situation.

Jing Hengbo’s hand fell, her heart empty, not knowing if she felt disappointment, joy, or anger.

“You…” He seemed somewhat angry.

“Sorry, grabbed the wrong thing.” She showed no guilt, patting his face and conveniently putting the mask back on him. Afraid he might strike out, she quickly rolled over to the other side of the straw bed.

When her feet touched the ground, she was startled again—she could move?

Suddenly feeling light above, she looked up to discover the skylight was broken, with several pairs of boots jumping around above.

“I’ll go first!”

“Let me go, I have a better figure!”

“Your butt’s too big, it’ll get stuck!”

“Let Seventh go, test with his face first—if the beard can get through, the body can too!”

“Bang.”

A person fell straight down, apparently suddenly kicked down, flipping in midair. He gracefully adjusted his posture, still not forgetting to greet those below while flipping: “Amitabha, Bo Bo, does this humble monk at this moment have the bearing of an immortal Buddha?”

Jing Hengbo wanted to laugh but also felt helpless.

The seven comedic duo had arrived, but why did they always come rather late?

Mainly because too much time was spent on arguing. When a group of people would fight over who takes the first step, inefficiency was predictable.

“Oh, since you’re here, don’t leave.” she answered.

Then she turned around, preparing to bid farewell to her roommate of one day and night.

But there was no one behind her.

She was stunned, rushing forward to see that the stone slab at the ground had closed. She reached out to pull it, but the stone slab wouldn’t budge.

She crouched there in a daze, unconsciously touching the straw pile where he had been. The straw was also cold, as if no one had ever sat there, as if this brief encounter of sharing a room for one day and night was just her illusion.

Had he left because he saw her rescue team arrive, afraid of being discovered?

She stood up, feeling faintly melancholy. Some people’s encounters were extremely brief, seemingly meaningless, yet inexplicably etched in one’s heart, unforgettable.

Like today’s mysterious tunnel-digging thief, like the old eunuch who carried her to safety on the day they fled.

A hurried meeting, lingering without words.

“Amitabha,” the fake monk sneakily peered behind her, desperately sniffing the fragrance of her hair. “Donor, your expression is quite melancholy. Donor, why don’t you show joy upon seeing this humble monk? Donor, what are you looking at on the ground? Is the ground better looking than me…”

Jing Hengbo whoosh disappeared from in front of him.

Bang—she bolted the prison door.

Then whoosh disappeared from the prison.

“Donor!” Wu Shan rushed forward, hugging the iron bars. “Don’t be like this! I’ll never secretly look at your chest again…”

“Go die, you perverted monk!” Above, there was giggling and strange laughter as they pulled the roof-climbing Jing Hengbo up. “Let’s go! Let him sit through the prison floor!”

“Help—me—!”

…

Half an hour later, Jing Hengbo had left the Xiang royal palace.

On the rooftop, she saw Yelu Qi with part of his hair burned off, and was startled. The person who had exchanged three moves with that fellow in the tunnel was indeed him.

But there was no time to ask for details then. The group hurried to leave the palace first. Yelu Qi and the Seven Kills with Tian Qi breaking into prison naturally attracted a large number of Xiang Kingdom guards in pursuit. Fortunately, these people all had high martial arts skills and could more than adequately protect themselves and escape. As for Jing Hengbo, as long as her poison didn’t flare up, she was number one in the world at running away.

Moreover, she didn’t know if it was a blessing in disguise, but her teleportation control ability and distance had been slowly increasing. The key was that supposedly all supernatural abilities had a limit value—she had one at the research institute before too. But after coming here, gradually, she could no longer feel this limit and barrier. She had a feeling that if she kept refining it, she might be able to teleport from Di Ge to Xiang Kingdom.

This thought was somewhat terrifying—wouldn’t that make her an immortal traveling a thousand li in an instant?

But this was just a feeling—she was still far from it now.

The Xiang Kingdom guards only pursued to the palace edge before retreating. These people couldn’t freely enter and exit the palace gates, and Chong’an was under martial law tonight with a tense atmosphere—sentries every three steps, guards every five steps. The group split into several batches and spent some time before each returned to the inn.

The Seven Kills and Yelu Qi were very worried about the black chi poison she had been hit with, but after they took turns checking Jing Hengbo’s pulse, they all showed strange expressions—the black chi poison had been neutralized. After everyone’s puzzlement came joy, all congratulating her. Because black chi injuries were mostly fatal, but if one could survive, they would never fear this poison again. The threat of Black Water Marsh to Jing Hengbo suddenly decreased significantly.

Jing Hengbo knew this was due to developing antibodies, but her poison was mysteriously cured. When everyone asked how she cured it, she couldn’t answer—could she tell everyone that she slept with a tunnel-digging thief without covers, just chatting, and his bad sleeping posture beat her up until she was cured? If she said this, would Yi Qi make a fuss about committing suicide? Would the Seven Kills develop curiosity syndrome and insist on sleeping with her to cure her poison? Would Yelu Qi kill all tunnel-digging thieves in the country?

She felt it was very possible. So she told everyone that perhaps it was because she already had poison in her body—moreover, the poison of kings. The black chi poison wasn’t impressive compared to that poison, so they neutralized each other.

She didn’t know if this group of occasionally comedic, occasionally shrewd fellows believed it. Whether they believed it or not, she certainly didn’t.

Wu Shan soon returned as well, looking rather disheveled. Though the group had attracted most of the pursuers when leaving the palace, he alone had to deal with the remaining attackers and suffered some hardships. Of course, he said none of this mattered—if I don’t go to hell, who will? As for peeking at Jing Hengbo’s chest, he blinked: “Huh? Did I?”

Only after returning to the inn did Jing Hengbo learn what had happened after she fainted. She was stunned for a long time, never expecting things could develop this way. She had wanted to matchmake but failed, ultimately causing a political coup.

Could that girl Hewan control Xiang Kingdom, the largest and most prosperous among the six nations and eight tribes?

She was also somewhat surprised by Gong Yin’s choice of Hewan. All six nations and eight tribes had hostages in Di Ge. Because Xiang Kingdom only had one crown prince who was still young, they hadn’t sent the prince but the Xiang ruler’s nephew. Before the Xiang ruler had a son, this royal nephew had been the most likely candidate among royal family members to be adopted by the Xiang ruler. Logically, if Gong Yin wanted to control Xiang Kingdom by leveraging circumstances, using this hostage as a puppet should be more convenient.

She then shook her head. Gong Yin’s thoughts were as deep as the sea—why bother guessing? It wasn’t her place to guess now. She just needed to do her own part.

She asked Yelu Qi about the person who had dueled with him at the prison tunnel. Yelu Qi’s expression was quite strange, saying he never got a clear look from beginning to end. He had originally wanted to rescue Jing Hengbo directly, but accidentally discovered a tunnel. That tunnel entrance was actually extremely well-hidden—ordinary masters would never find it, and the tunneling technique was quite special. He was very surprised by this and entered the tunnel to investigate, only to be forced back.

Jing Hengbo felt he was still concealing something. After repeated questioning, Yelu Qi only smiled without speaking. When pressed urgently, he said: “Someone just got there first, as always. As long as you’re safe and sound, that’s all that matters.”

Jing Hengbo sensed something wrong in these words, her heart skipping a beat. But Yelu Qi continued: “We should leave too. I left a letter for Hewan, telling her what you did for her. Doing good deeds without leaving your name—wouldn’t that be like wearing brocade at night? No matter how much she remembers this favor, there will always be a place to speak in the future.” He pointed to the room: “She said nothing, but sent these.”

Only then did Jing Hengbo notice the trunks in the room. Opening them briefly, they contained essentials for travel and daily life, mainly silver, and even some masks, various clothing, and travel permits from Xiang Kingdom to neighboring tribal kingdoms. With these, entering and leaving various tribes and nations would be relatively convenient.

Jing Hengbo felt somewhat melancholy, thinking that disaster was indeed the thing that most forced people to grow. That innocent and naive young girl had grown up overnight. If she were still the original Hewan, she would have come to see her personally, thanked her reluctantly, but wouldn’t have thought to send these things. She had handled this matter in the most efficient but slightly cold way.

Did she still have that pure, loving heart from before? Would the ending between her, Yong Xizheng, and Ji Yifan change because of this?

That would be another story, unrelated to her.

Everyone was moving forward, everyone was changing, everyone was growing in helplessness or pain, losing countless fallen flowers along the way, then picking up blood-stained swords and continuing forward.

So be it.

…

The next day, she left Xiang Kingdom, taking the route through Xiang Kingdom to her next destination: the Huangjin Tribe.

The tribe that had legendarily participated in the Di Ge rebellion years ago, legendarily the most unruly and rebellious in Dahuang’s history, and also the tribe most closely connected to the Sang Dong family.

Before leaving Chong’an, she encountered an unexpected farewell party.

Yong Xizheng.

Xiang Kingdom’s new Grand Chancellor, sitting in a soft sedan, waiting on her inevitable route.

Jing Hengbo initially thought Hewan had asked him to see her off, but he got straight to the point: “I came to escort the lady partway. The princess doesn’t know.”

Jing Hengbo raised an eyebrow. She had no good feelings toward this man, nor was she surprised he could track her movements and identity—after all, he was a nation’s Grand Chancellor. How could he manage his own territory without a few informants?

“Thanks, farewell.” Casually bowing, she moved to go around him.

“I came to thank the lady for yesterday’s words,” Yong Xizheng said behind her. “Without the lady’s words, the princess and I would have had difficulty saving face.”

Jing Hengbo knew he referred to her rushing out to shout in the hall. Precisely because she had reminded Hewan, Hewan could deny attacking Yong Xizheng in time. Otherwise, if the matter were laid bare, how could Hewan face Yong Xizheng afterward? The crime of assassinating a minister alone would be hard to escape.

Of course, Hewan knew the truth, she knew it, sharp-eyed people knew it, and Yong Xizheng especially knew it.

Jing Hengbo turned around, looking at Yong Xizheng’s gentle and solemn features, feeling slightly sorrowful for him.

His inner feelings must be uncomfortable too, yet he was still grateful for her intervention, for not tearing through that veil, giving him a chance to continue with Hewan.

So he came specifically to thank her for just that one sentence.

Jing Hengbo felt somewhat happy for Hewan—regardless of what kind of person Yong Xizheng was, his feelings for her were genuine.

That was enough.

Her heart was filled with strange emotions—some sorrow, some happiness, some nostalgia—making her even less willing to talk much. She laughed heartily, waved her hand, and was about to leave when Yong Xizheng said: “The travel permits and masks in the gifts were my small token. I hope the lady finds them useful.”

“So it was your handiwork.” Jing Hengbo was somewhat surprised.

“I don’t know the lady’s identity, why you passed through here, or why you helped Hewan,” Yong Xizheng said slowly. “But I know that all meetings in the world are fate. Today’s cause, tomorrow’s effect. Today Hewan owes the lady a favor, and someday she’ll need to repay it. I want to help her repay some of it first.”

“You speak strangely,” Jing Hengbo laughed. “I helped her because I wanted to help her. Who asked her to repay anything?”

“Who can say what the future holds? Hewan is someone who values sentiment and loyalty. Perhaps your help today was unintentional, but there will be meetings in the future.” Yong Xizheng looked up at her features. “The lady is no ordinary person and will have great encounters in the future. Today’s farewell is my way of forming a good connection with you. I also hope that in the future, the lady will remember today’s sentiment and not make things too difficult for Hewan.”

“More and more absurd.” Jing Hengbo waved her hand. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’ve already accepted your gifts—how could I have the nerve to make you bleed more? Rest assured, I’m leaving now. Mountains high, waters long—until we meet again.”

“Don’t travel too quickly, lady,” Yong Xizheng called from afar. “Last night the State Preceptor left the city overnight. Nine gates are under martial law, and the city garrison is currently withdrawing. The crowds are chaotic—be careful of trouble…”

Jing Hengbo didn’t pay attention to the rest because her thoughts were slightly confused.

Gong Yin had left last night?

This news was logical yet unexpected. Some speculation in her heart was overturned, yet she felt it was completely right to be overturned—what was she thinking about all day?

She looked up at the sky, gloomy as if it would snow again, hazily remembering it seemed near New Year’s.

One year.

One year of wind and frost passed, one year of scattered stars, one year of ups and downs for her—one year like living an entire lifetime.

This New Year’s, wind and snow remained, but no one returned home together.

…

This New Year’s, wind and snow remained. Horse carriages rumbled over the yellow earth, leaving two deep tracks.

Inside the carriage, Gong Yin had a book open on his lap but wasn’t reading, slightly lost in thought.

The wind seemed to carry ice pellets, striking the carriage roof with crisp sounds. He suddenly remembered someone had once struck his carriage roof this crisply with those strange shoes, shouting with full vigor: “Stop the carriage! Stop the carriage!”

In his daze, he seemed to really hear that voice. He unconsciously raised his hand and struck the carriage wall.

The carriage stopped. Meng Hu’s figure quickly approached the carriage door, bowing and waiting for orders.

He was slightly stunned, not expecting the carriage to actually stop, much less expecting he had actually ordered it to stop in such a daze.

The atmosphere was somewhat awkward. Not wanting to make his subordinate uneasy, he casually said: “How has Mingcheng been lately?”

Meng Hu was very surprised—stopping the carriage halfway to ask about Mingcheng? What was wrong with his master?

But he still answered very respectfully: “Reporting to Master, Her Majesty the Queen is well in the palace, not stepping outside the palace gates. We’re protecting her very well.”

So-called protection meant surveillance. The queen’s bedchamber now had three times more guards than before, like an iron barrel.

“Any suspicious persons entering or leaving?”

“None.”

“Any suspicious contacts?”

“None.”

He was quiet for a moment, then suddenly said: “She still won’t put the seal on the edicts?”

“You know how it is,” Meng Hu said. “Her Majesty the Queen says the jade seal was lost long ago. She’s now delegating all affairs to you and will at most stamp her private seal on edicts.”

A thin, cold expression crossed Gong Yin’s lips.

Was it lost, or was she unwilling to produce it?

Though the Queen’s jade seal wasn’t very useful—many edicts could be issued with or without it, needing only the Jade Shine Palace Master’s seal—for some crucial matters, only the Queen’s jade seal would do.

“Have you searched inside and outside her chambers?”

“Searched. Nothing found.”

“Has she entered or left any other palace rooms?”

“No.”

“Very careful.” Gong Yin said flatly.

Meng Hu lowered his head, not daring to respond, feeling he hadn’t fulfilled his duties.

“The jade seal is with her, but probably in a place no one would think of,” a trace of disgust flashed in his eyes, “or perhaps I should act personally…”

Meng Hu raised his head, saying softly: “The subordinates will work hard to handle it. You… don’t need to be so urgent…”

Gong Yin turned slightly toward the carriage window, looking toward the distant snow-capped mountains.

“I have a premonition that news from over there will come soon…”

Meng Hu showed shock, then lowered his head, slightly clenching his jaw.

“What should come will come, what should go must go.” He drew his gaze back from the distance, gently turning a page. “…Or perhaps, we can prepare to begin.”

…

“Let’s hurry along. We can still celebrate New Year’s within Huangjin Tribe territory this way.” Jing Hengbo lifted the carriage curtain, shouting for the eighteenth time at the Seven Kills who were fighting for the eighteenth time up front. “Keep fighting and I’ll settle down in Huangjin Tribe! You can go back to the mountain yourselves and keep that old narcissist company!”

The Seven Kills giggled and stopped fighting, looking at the sky and excitedly saying: “Tomorrow’s New Year’s! How should we eat our New Year’s Eve dinner? Should each person make one dish? Should we open a table at the biggest restaurant? Should we book a brothel and find a bunch of girls…”

“Finding lodging would be good enough! Hurry up!” Jing Hengbo cursed, looking at the mountain ahead. They had just entered Huangjin Tribe territory. There was said to be a large swamp ahead, and if they were lucky, they could reach a village near the swamp. If unlucky, they’d spend New Year’s on the swamp.

The Huangjin Tribe, as the name suggested, was rich in gold, with high-gold-content mines. Their most representative swamp was also called Golden Marsh. Golden Marsh naturally didn’t produce gold, but it produced a small beast called gold-seeking beasts. These beasts were said to be able to find gold-bearing mines and search for gold underground. With them around, the chances of finding gold greatly increased. These small beasts were very rare, living in the center of the swamp. They were omnivores, usually feeding on various drowned animal carcasses in the swamp, and also eating water plants by the swamp. But their favorite was living creatures, especially live human flesh. Fresh human flesh could lure these particularly cautious beasts from the swamp center to be captured.

But gold-seeking beasts were extremely agile and fierce, with sharp claws and fangs, poisonous claws, traveling in groups, moving like wind across the swamp, swift as lightning. Those who tried to lure gold-seeking beasts with living people mostly ended up in their bellies, torn apart leaving only white bones rotting in the swamp. So in recent years, no one attempted to use living people to lure and capture gold-seeking beasts. After all, no matter how good money was, it wasn’t worth more than life.

These things were all gossip the Seven Kills had gathered along the way. Jing Hengbo just listened as stories. She didn’t lack money now and had no interest in those fierce wealth-god beasts. Want money? Feifei could piss on any rich old man and make him offer up his entire fortune, not even leaving his pants—much more powerful than gold-seeking beasts.

On the twenty-ninth day of the twelfth lunar month, when the sky was getting dark, they finally reached a small village on the border of Huangjin Tribe. Everyone sighed with relief seeing the wisps of cooking smoke ahead. No matter what, they had finally seen human habitation and wouldn’t have to spend New Year’s by some dark swamp.

But when entering the village, Jing Hengbo felt something was wrong.

The village wasn’t small. It was said that not far from here was Xunyang, Huangjin Tribe’s third-largest border city. The village houses weren’t too dilapidated. As she entered, she saw every household with smoke rising from chimneys, steaming hot, with dried vegetables and cured meat hanging under the eaves, and animal hides spread on walls—quite festive preparations for New Year’s. But the village was very quiet, with no trace of New Year’s joy. Only from one large house in the village came noisy voices, sounding like arguing from afar.

Since no one came out to inquire, their large cart drove straight to the village center, approaching that large house, vaguely hearing someone crying and shouting.

“No way, why should it be us! I only have this one son… Are you bullying us widow women…”

The house fell quiet, then came chaotic arguing voices. Too many people seemed to be gathered there—apparently the whole village—so they couldn’t hear clearly what was being said. There seemed to be scolding, persuasion, and restraint. The crying became shriller, then suddenly another shout: “Bullying widow women, I don’t want to live either!” Then smash—the window was broken and something flew out.

“Wahhhh, hidden weapons!” Er Lu in front ducked his head. Behind him was Shan Wu, who was combing his hair and arranging his appearance. The dark object smacked right onto his face.

“So stinky…” When Shan Wu pulled the thing off his face, his face was pale and he was nearly suffocating.

Everyone looked down—it was a shoe, clearly a woman’s by the style, but unusually large.

Er Gouzi on the cart roof was so startled his head shrank, staring with round little eyes and shouting: “Good shoes know the season, should be thrown during New Year! Following wind into faces, blocking noses silently!”

Si Si giggled: “Third Brother, your fate has arrived! Shoes falling from heaven, red thread of destiny!”

“Big shoes match little demons, perfect. Brother will go matchmake for you!” Shan Wu grabbed that stinky shoe and raised his hand to throw it back. “Damn it, my sister-in-law, what’s wrong with you? Why are you throwing shoes around!”

Smack—the entire window frame flew apart, smashed by one shoe…

Immediately, countless heads poked out of the broken window—big ones, small ones, old ones, young ones, male ones, female ones—all with round eyes staring at this group of people who had suddenly appeared.

“Where’s my sister-in-law! Come out and apologize to your big brother-in-law!” Shan Wu was still shouting with righteous indignation.

Jing Hengbo covered her forehead, saying to Yelu Qi: “The wind’s picking up, prepare to flee!”

Huangjin Tribe was famous for its fierce folk customs. She had repeatedly warned the Seven Kills not to cause trouble and to peacefully celebrate New Year’s, but who knew those seven had agreed nicely only to break their promise over a stinky shoe.

If they didn’t leave now, were they waiting to be chased with hoes by the villagers?

She couldn’t afford to lose face like this.

Tian Qi moved even faster than her, saying miserably: “Being with these seven bastards is so embarrassing…” while hurriedly driving the cart to turn around.

“Should we wait for the Seven Kills?”

“Don’t wait, let them have a good heart-to-heart with their sisters-in-law!” Jing Hengbo angrily turned her head.

“Wait! Wait!” Suddenly a long shout came, and an old man squeezed out of the dumbstruck crowd. He was so urgent he didn’t even bother with the door, jumping straight out the window. Seeing this, Jing Hengbo urged even faster.

“Go go go, this is bad.” She kept urging: “A seventy or eighty-year-old man jumping through windows so nimbly—if they all rush us we definitely can’t handle it. Let’s go, quickly.”

“Wait! Wait, guests!” That old man was indeed fast as wind, reaching them in a few steps and grabbing Tian Qi’s horse reins. Tian Qi snorted coldly, about to shake him off when Jing Hengbo stopped him.

She was afraid Tian Qi might not control his strength and hurt someone, which would really cause trouble.

Besides, the old man’s tone didn’t sound like he meant trouble.

“Old sir,” she smiled as she pried the man’s hand away, “we didn’t plan to disturb anyone. Those seven troublemakers—we don’t know them. You can deal with them directly. We’re leaving now, goodbye and no need to see us off, mwah mwah.”

“Guest!” The old man wouldn’t let go, instead grabbing her hand. “Guest, don’t leave! It’s New Year’s—where are you going? The nearest city is still a day and a half’s journey from here. Are you planning to spend New Year’s on the road?”

Jing Hengbo was dumbfounded—what was this? So enthusiastic? Where was the legendarily fierce-tempered, quick-tempered Huangjin Tribe? This couldn’t be the Land of Gentlemen, could it?

“This… that…” She was somewhat incredulous. Having met many outsiders who were usually harsh, she felt anxious and uncomfortable when people were kind. “We’re used to spending New Year’s on the road. Sorry about breaking your window—we’ll pay, we’ll pay…”

“What’s a window? It needed fixing anyway! Good that it’s broken, good!” The old man waved his hand, saying earnestly: “Guest, our Dawang Village is most hospitable. We absolutely cannot let travelers pass through without staying. Besides, it’s almost New Year’s. If you miss this resting place, you’ll have to sleep outdoors for New Year’s—how desolate would that be? Even if you’re willing, this old man can’t bear to watch. Come, come, since you’re here don’t leave. Come, Er Sha, San Hun, come help the guests with their luggage!”

The window still had a bunch of heads poking out, staring at them blankly. Their expressions weren’t as enthusiastic and natural as the old man’s—most had wariness in their eyes. But the old man seemed very prestigious. When he glared back, several young men immediately came forward to help with the luggage.

“What’s going on?” Jing Hengbo quietly asked Yelu Qi. “Something’s not right!”