Everyone glanced over with quiet laughter. Lu Qingrong’s face went crimson, and she immediately became demure and restrained.

“Sir Xie, you—”

“You don’t mind, Miss?”

“I don’t mind at all…”

She lowered her head shyly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, and saw Xie Lanting draw a token reading Swear Brotherhood with the Person Below You.

“I’ll take the drink as forfeit.” He gave an easy laugh and drained his cup.

The guests erupted in teasing: “Sir Xie, does this mean you can’t bring yourself to be sworn siblings with our Elder Sister Lu?”

“Not that he can’t — more like he holds her in too high regard to settle for siblings.”

“Elder Sister Lu’s face has gone completely red.”

Lu Qingrong, who was usually domineering and spoiled, was showing this shy, girlish side for the first time. Flustered, she reached out to draw a token herself — her hand unsteady, her sleeve sweeping across the holder and scattering a cluster of tokens.

Xie Lanting’s hand shot out with startling speed, catching one before it fell. He turned it over and read it — also Answer Three Questions from the Person Above You.

He made a show of hesitation: “Miss, would you prefer to drink instead?”

Her heart was fluttering. Lu Qingrong bit her lip: “No — no need. Sir, please go ahead and ask.”

“We’re not well acquainted — I worry that asking at random might cause offense.” Xie Lanting thought for a moment. “A moment ago Miss Baoxiang mentioned that you had a childhood companion at the frontier?”

“They were hardly childhood companions.” Lu Qingrong was quick to clarify. “Dazhu and Erzhu were young men from General Cheng’s household — we didn’t see each other that often.”

At those names, several people at the table stifled laughs.

Xie Lanting, as though concerned for her embarrassment, graciously offered a way out: “Second question — why did General Cheng’s sons have names like those?”

“The General was from the countryside below Yuexian County.” She looked a little sheepish herself. “He’d never studied much, so naming his sons was naturally a casual affair.”

“General Cheng’s own sons?” Zhang Zhixu tossed in a word. “I’d never heard of them.”

“It’s not your turn to ask.” Lu Qingrong snapped.

Xie Lanting laughed and played peacemaker, then smoothly said: “Then let the third question be this.”

Lu Qingrong hesitated: “I did hear them calling General Cheng their father — only the General would say in public that his younger sister had died young, and that these were children he was raising on her behalf.”

Pei Ruheng listened from the side, his brow furrowing steadily.

None of this was the sort of thing that should be aired at a banquet table. Yet Xie Lanting had been perfectly natural throughout — and the drinking game rules had been established from the start. There was no opening for Pei Ruheng to intervene.

Only, Lu Qingrong’s story was growing stranger and stranger. His maternal uncle had no deceased younger sister — the Cheng Family had always been just the one brother and sister, hadn’t they?

The three questions concluded. Xie Lanting smiled and placed food in Lu Qingrong’s bowl, and she sneaked glances at his profile — looking rather lost in them.

The token holder made its full round and came back to Chen Baoxiang.

She had already asked what she wanted to ask, and had little enthusiasm left for the game. She drew one at random — and pulled out Exchange Cups and Drink with the Person Sitting Opposite.

The guests erupted in laughter and cheers. Across the table, Pei Ruheng lowered his eyes, reached for his teacup, and sipped with an expressionless face.

Though the tea came a little too fast — it caught in his throat and he coughed slightly.

“Just to be clear — a cup exchange at a banquet like this doesn’t count for anything.” Lin Guilan was already tipsy, waving her hand around — but then she turned to Chen Baoxiang with a smile. “Even if it doesn’t count, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

They all knew Chen Baoxiang had feelings for Pei Ruheng. Having drawn this particular token, surely she wouldn’t let it pass.

Even Zhang Zhixu expected that she would be pleased.

Yet Chen Baoxiang held the token, gave it a flip between her fingers, and tucked it back into the holder. She raised her cup instead: “Three cups — I’ll take the forfeit.”

Pei Ruheng’s fingers tightened imperceptibly around his teacup.

He looked up and watched Chen Baoxiang tip back a cup with cheerful ease, already pouring the next. His expression went cold, a trace of something mocking entering his eyes: “I suppose I should thank you.”

“I had no choice.” She drank on, still laughing. “Fengqing is petty — I can’t afford to offend him.”

At those words, the entire table drew a sharp breath.

Lu Qingrong was stunned: “You — you mean you and Young Master Zhang are—”

“I didn’t say anything.” Chen Baoxiang gave a meaningful wink. “You should all consider yourselves as having heard nothing.”

“Of course, of course — we’ll keep your secret.”

“This is clearly a heaven-sent bond — Miss Baoxiang, do cherish it.”

Zhang Zhixu was briefly struck still when she uttered the name Fengqing.

He recovered quickly enough — and found himself feeling a quiet sense of relief.

You’ve finally seen through Pei Ruheng.

It’s not about seeing through anyone. The table is too wide — he’s too far away. I simply don’t feel like walking over.

Chen Baoxiang’s eyes were downcast, gently self-deprecating: Besides, once you’ve already had your face slapped, you don’t go and offer the other cheek. This wine is quite good, actually.

It was indeed good wine from the East Market — though it was rather strong, and three cups drunk one after another in quick succession left even Zhang Zhixu feeling the heat.

You’re going to get drunk.

Impossible — I, your honored lady, never fall drunk in a thousand cups.

Say what she liked — but no one, mortal or divine, was immune when wine was pushed down that fast. Zhang Zhixu could feel her growing hazy, her feet as though treading on cotton, her face burning.

“Miss Baoxiang, I have official business to attend to — I must take my leave first.” Xie Lanting rose and clasped his hands.

“Of course.” Chen Baoxiang swayed to her feet. “Let me see you out.”

“You’re too kind.”

The other guests were still playing the token game, and gave a few halfhearted attempts to keep him before letting him go.

Chen Baoxiang followed Xie Lanting around the covered corridor. They walked a while, and then she spoke with a cheerful drunken slur: “Sir Xie is known for his brilliant methods of investigation. Today’s approach, though — hic — was a bit beneath you.”

“Oh?” Xie Lanting looked back with a mild smile. “What did you say, Miss?”

“If you want to find the conscription rolls from when Cheng Huaili was recruited, go straight to that village head with the surname Yang.” She gave a slightly lopsided laugh. “The man is still alive. Four years ago, he moved from Yuexian County to Xiangxian County.”

Xie Lanting raised an eyebrow, then looked faintly amused: “You told me before that you knew nothing about it.”

“I said — hic — I knew nothing of the details. I never said I didn’t know anyone involved.”

“Now I’m curious,” he said, watching her steadily. “First you spread the rumor, and now you tell me all this. Do you have some grievance with General Cheng too, Miss?”

“How could I? We were both in Yuexian County, but I was in Sanxiang village and he was in Guixiang — we never even met. What grievance could there be?”

Chen Baoxiang held up her fingers in a wobbly attempt to count things off: “The rumor — I started it because I wanted to help Young Master Zhang’s younger sister. Her taste and mine get along well, I like her.”

“As for telling you all this — Sir Xie, it’s because I think women are pitiful. And women who fall in love with men are the most pitiful of all.”

Lu Qingrong was awful and foolish and had forgotten she ever knew Chen Baoxiang, but she hadn’t done anything truly terrible. And yet here he was, toying with someone’s feelings for the sake of an investigation. That wasn’t right.

“Regretting a mistake only after you’ve made it is the least valuable thing in the world.” She murmured, her eyes drifting half-shut. “Far better not to make it in the first place.”

Zhang Zhixu listened, unsure whether she was admonishing Xie Lanting or drawing a parallel to Pei Ruheng.

Yet Xie Lanting kept his eyes fixed on her, a half-smile on his lips: “These reasons don’t quite seem sufficient to explain why you would involve yourself in this as well.”