“What wild words pour forth when wine drowns sorrow’s pain, In bitter verse, I call my grief by name. A fish in shallow waters cannot know its fate, A goose in foreign lands finds heartbreak comes too late. In coarse hemp robes I force myself to dance in silken grace, A withered tree still lifts the orchid’s sweet embrace. Fallen and disgraced, I journey north down winding paths, And leaning on the rail, I gaze south — the moon cold as frost casts.

“Pu’er, why would a child your age be reciting such a poem? Switch to another one.”

Along the winding shores of Changli Lake, willow branches swayed green and lush, the spring breeze cut gently through the air, the slanting sun cast its warm light, and the lake shimmered bright and clear — it was the finest spring weather of the second month. A horse carriage ambled along at an unhurried pace, and the sound of a child reciting poetry drifted out from within, mingled with a woman’s voice, heavy with languid indolence.

“Elder Sister, Pu’er is reciting the poem composed by Princess Xiyun of Fengguo. How well did Pu’er recite it?” a bright and clear child’s voice asked.

“That poem is one you may recite when you are thirty years older. Young as you are, how could you possibly understand the flavor within those lines?”

“Then let me recite another one for you to hear.” The child spoke with great eagerness, carrying the earnest, childlike desire to win an adult’s praise and admiration.

“Very well.” The woman’s voice was distant and indifferent, as though it made no difference either way.

“Who was it that heard the xiao’s song last night? The cold crickets and solitary cicadas cried without cease. The clay pot’s tea grew cold, the moon shed no splendor, Yet in dreams, I walked on, singing all the way.”

“Elder Sister, Elder Sister, how did I do this time?” Inside the carriage, Han Pu shook the drowsy and half-asleep Fengxi.

“What would a young child like you know of the cold desolation of ‘the clay pot’s tea grew cold, the moon shed no splendor’?” Fengxi let out a yawn and looked at Han Pu. “Why do you keep reciting Princess Xiyun’s poems? It is not as though she is the only one in this world who can write. There are plenty who write far better than she does.”

“But I heard Teacher say Princess Xiyun was a peerless and extraordinary talent. They say that when she was ten years old, she once wrote an essay — an essay on — on —” Han Pu squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to recall what his teacher had once told him, yet no matter how hard he tried, he could not bring it back.

“‘Ten Strategies for the Jing Terrace’!” Fengxi shook her head and finished the title for him.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Han Pu let out a sigh of relief. “Teacher said Princess Xiyun’s ‘Ten Strategies for the Jing Terrace’ surpassed even that year’s top scholar in the civil examination. Though she was a woman, her brilliance and talent were startling. That is why all those female cousins of mine at home love to imitate Princess Xiyun so much. The moment they hear what the Princess is wearing, how she styles her hair, or what jewelry she adorns herself with, they immediately set about copying her.”

Fengxi heaved a sigh and shook her head. She leaned sideways and collapsed onto the couch, preparing to sleep a while longer — but then she sat up again abruptly, closed her eyes, and tilted her head to one side, as though listening for something. After a moment, she shook her head and sighed again. “Another one singing Princess Xiyun’s praises.”

“What do you mean, singing Princess Xiyun’s praises?” Han Pu asked.

“You will hear for yourself in a little while.” Fengxi no longer felt like sleeping. She drew back the small curtain on the side of the carriage and gazed out the window. A fresh breeze brushed her face, carrying with it a faint, clean scent of green grass. She breathed it in deeply. “And I can already smell it.”

“Smell what?” Han Pu pressed his face against the window and drew in a deep breath as well, yet he could detect nothing. He listened carefully, and on the wind came a faint trace of song, drawing nearer and nearer until it could be heard with growing clarity.

“I drift like flotsam, the moon curves on alone, I lean against the jade railing of a small tower. Fallen petals and swallows fly away in pairs, A river full of autumn catkins, half a city veiled in mist.”

A woman’s clear and melodious singing voice carried itself upon the spring breeze, as ethereal as the music of heaven, yet threaded through with a strand of sorrowful desolation — like a duckweed without roots, adrift and utterly alone.

“That, of course, is the scent of that black fox.” Fengxi murmured, lifting the curtain aside. She leapt up in a single bound and sat atop the carriage roof, gazing into the distance. Ahead, a horse carriage was driving toward them. “A grown man, yet he always carries on him a fragrance that most women do not even possess.”

“Where? Where?” Han Pu also jumped up onto the carriage roof, though without the ease and silence with which Fengxi had done so. When he landed, he produced a loud thud — and though he managed to steady himself, it left onlookers wondering whether he had kicked a hole through the roof.

Fortunately, Yan Jiutai had long grown accustomed to the peculiar habits of this pair of siblings. Sitting atop the carriage roof rather than inside it was nothing new. He continued driving at his own pace, though in truth he had not needed to drive at all — Fengxi had dismissed the coachman halfway through the journey.

Coming toward them was a large horse carriage, nearly twice the size of their own. Long black silk curtains hung all around it, dancing in the spring breeze like the flowing tresses of a lovelorn young woman, reaching out as if to ensnare a lover’s footsteps — yet grasping only a fading silhouette in the empty air.

When the two carriages came face to face, both came to a stop.

“Old Uncle Zhong, we meet again.” Fengxi smiled brightly from atop the carriage roof and called out a greeting to the coachman of the opposite carriage. The coachman, however, gave only a nod in return.

The door of the opposing carriage swung open. The first to emerge and hold back the curtain were Zhong Li and Zhong Yuan. Only after they stepped aside did Feng Xi emerge — a man whose bearing was as striking as ink-black jade.

“When will you ever learn to behave more like a woman?” Feng Xi looked up at Fengxi sprawled sideways atop the carriage roof, and shook his head with a sigh.

“In everyone’s eyes, I am already a woman. What more do I need to do to behave like one?” Fengxi rolled her eyes and laughed cheerfully.

“Why are you here?” Feng Xi stepped down from the carriage with graceful ease and stood upon the grass.

“And why have you appeared here?” Fengxi lay on her stomach atop the carriage roof, looking down at Feng Xi who stood below with his head tilted up toward her. Now this was a satisfying feeling!

Feng Xi smiled but offered no answer. His gaze swept over to Han Pu, and he could not help but chuckle. “This little rascal looks as though you have been taking good care of him.”

Han Pu’s complexion was healthy and glowing, his brow carrying the fresh and guileless clarity of youth, his bearing bright and free-spirited, and his manner already bearing a faint shadow of Fengxi’s own easy and unrestrained air.

“But of course. This is the adorable little brother I found for myself. Naturally I must take good care of him.” Fengxi reached over and patted Han Pu on the head as they both lay sprawled side by side, as casually as one might pat a well-behaved pet dog.

“I am merely a little puzzled as to how he has managed not to starve to death while following you around.” Feng Xi maintained his pleasant smile.

“Oh my, a great beauty!” Fengxi suddenly cried out, her eyes fixed on a cold and strikingly beautiful woman who had stepped out from Feng Xi’s carriage.

“A magnificent beauty!” Fengxi leapt down from the carriage roof and landed before the woman, circling around her left and right, nodding with each pass. “Truly a peerless beauty among mortals! I knew it — this fox of yours could not possibly bear to be alone, and there was simply no way he could have made this journey without finding a beauty to accompany him.”

Feng Qiwu stared in a slightly dazed stupor at the woman turning circles in front of her. Perhaps because of her rapid movements, Feng Qiwu could not quite make out her face clearly — in the blur, she caught glimpses of a pair of eyes that blazed like cold stars, a cascade of long hair that danced in the wind as dark as midnight, and in stark contrast to that dark hair, a radiant white robe, with a glimmer of warm and gentle light at the brow.

“Elder Sister, keep spinning around and she will probably faint,” Han Pu said.

Han Pu had also jumped down from the carriage. He cast a glance at the blue-robed woman standing before them and twisted his mouth to one side. What was so remarkable about her? She was like a pillar carved from ice! She was nowhere near as beautiful as Elder Sister, to say nothing of Elder Sister’s unparalleled charm and grace.

But Fengxi turned and gave Han Pu a smack on the head, then declared with great conviction, “Pu’er, you must never grow up to be like this fox, going around stirring up feelings wherever you go. Of course — if a beauty were to give you clothing and food as gifts, you should accept them. And even if you did not want them, remember to present them to Elder Sister as an offering of filial respect!”

“Ow, that hurt!” Han Pu rubbed his head and frowned. “Why did you hit me? I have not done anything wrong!”

“Oh, I am sorry, Pu’er — I accidentally mistook you for that black fox and gave you a smack without thinking.” Fengxi hurriedly patted his head and blew gently on it to soothe the pain.

Han Pu shot an indignant glare at Feng Xi, who stood off to the side in his usual unhurried manner. But he found that the man paid him no attention at all — his gaze had settled on Fengxi, as though studying or calculating something, which only made Han Pu feel more unsettled in his heart.

Fengxi turned back around and stood before the beauty, smiling warmly as she asked, “My dear beauty, what is your name? And when did this fox manage to charm you into his company?”

In the moment she turned, Feng Qiwu finally saw Fengxi’s face clearly — and in that instant, even the habitually aloof and self-assured Feng Qiwu felt a pang of inadequacy bloom within her.

Those eyes — clear as water, bright as stars. At first glance, one seemed to see the black crystal depths of a pupil reflected in a limpid lake, yet look again and they became black pearls at the bottom of a deep sea, forever beyond reach. Her smile was radiant and flawless, as though she had been smiling since the very dawn of heaven and earth itself, smiling as she watched the winds rise and the clouds churn, smiling still as seas became mulberry fields and ages turned to dust. She stood there with complete ease, like a pure lotus swaying in the breeze — luminous and ethereal. It was as if this boundless world were a stage made for her alone, upon which she swept her long sleeves, treading clouds and chasing the wind with such free and unrestrained grace. How had such a person come to exist? How could there be a woman so transcendent and otherworldly in this world? Who was this woman, radiant as the moon yet brilliant as the sun?

“Black Fox, what has happened to your beauty?” Fengxi noticed that Feng Qiwu was simply staring at her with wide eyes, and turned to ask Feng Xi.

“Qiwu pays her respects to the young lady.”

Feng Qiwu, having collected herself, suddenly dipped into a full and graceful bow. Not only did those around her find this strange, but even Feng Xi himself was somewhat surprised — why would this habitually cool and distant woman show such deference to this unpredictable Fengxi?

“Oh! Dear beauty Qiwu, do not frighten me so.” Fengxi quickly reached out to steady Feng Qiwu, clasping her slender, boneless hand — as tender as a fresh spring shoot, truly enough to move anyone’s heart with tender affection. “Miss Qiwu, you are so lovely, and you have chosen such a beautiful name for yourself. Yet your judgment leaves something to be desired.”

“Hmm?” Feng Qiwu did not quite understand her meaning.

“Qiwu — Qiwu. The meaning is naturally the phoenix coming to rest upon the parasol tree. A fine person such as yourself ought of course to find the finest parasol tree upon which to alight. Yet how did you end up choosing a fox?” Fengxi said with an expression of heartfelt regret, and her hand happened to gesture toward Feng Xi behind her.

Upon hearing this, Feng Qiwu could not help but smile. She glanced over at Feng Xi. All along the journey, those around him had treated him with the utmost deference and careful attendance. Yet now she heard this woman before her calling out “Black Fox” this and “Black Fox” that without pause — and he remained with that same composed and refined smile, as though the words of the white-robed woman before him were of no consequence, or as though he were simply indulging everything this person said and did without reproach. When his gaze swept past, the inky depths of his eyes were utterly still, undisturbed.

“Xiao’er pays her respects to Miss Xi.” Xiao’er, who had been following behind Feng Qiwu, stepped forward and offered a bow.

“Oh my, dear sweet Xiao’er! It has been so long since I last saw that sweet and radiant smile of yours — I have truly missed it dearly!” Fengxi released Feng Qiwu and stepped forward, cupping Xiao’er’s little face in both hands, pinching the left cheek and patting the right, clicking her tongue in ceaseless admiration. “It is still Xiao’er’s smile that is the loveliest — far more pleasing than the smile of a certain person, that thousand-year-unchanged, insincere little fox grin.”

“Miss Xi, it has been so long since I last saw you — you are still as fond of teasing as ever.” Xiao’er wrestled her pink little face free from Fengxi’s clutches, took hold of her hand, and turned to Feng Qiwu. “Miss Feng, this is Miss Fengxi — the one known together with Young Master as Baifeng Heixi, and she is Bai Fengxi herself.”

“Bai Fengxi?” Feng Qiwu’s beautiful eyes widened in astonishment. She had of course heard that name, thunderous in its renown — that woman as free and unrestrained as the wind. So this was the person standing before her. Indeed she was matchless in her charm and grace, impossible to look away from.

“Miss Feng? Feng Qiwu?” Fengxi looked at Feng Qiwu once more, then turned to glance back at Feng Xi. A flash of light crossed her eyes. “It seems I have heard this name somewhere before.”

“Qiwu once made her home at the Riling Tower,” Feng Xi said lightly. “Her singing voice is renowned throughout all of Wangyu.”

“Is that so.” Fengxi smiled and nodded, seeming to have no wish to dig further into the matter. “Perhaps I heard it mentioned by some acquaintance of mine in the jianghu.”

“Since when has the Chief of the Thirty-Eight Strongholds of Wuyu become your coachman?” Feng Xi’s gaze swept over to Yan Jiutai, who sat steadily and unmovingly atop the carriage.

“Ha — he said he wished to repay me for saving his life six years ago.” Fengxi laughed brightly, and as her eyes met Feng Xi’s, a look of subtle warning passed between them.

“Clearly his judgment is also lacking.” Feng Xi smiled as well, then turned and stepped back toward the carriage.

“Wait — Black Fox, did you come to Changli Lake because of this?” Fengxi called out to stop him from behind, and drew out half a bamboo arrow from her sleeve.

“How did you come to have this?” Feng Xi’s gaze swept over the half bamboo arrow, and a gleam of intrigue surfaced in his eyes.

“I was ambushed by people from the Soul-Severing Sect along the way. Besides leaving behind seven corpses, they also left this.” Fengxi raised her hand and flung it — the half bamboo arrow shot through the air and plunged into the surface of Changli Lake.

“So that is how it is. No wonder you would come here.” Feng Xi gave a nod. “But you need not go into the lake now — I have just returned from there, and only an empty nest remains.”

“They fled?” A flash crossed Fengxi’s eyes. She then fixed her gaze on Feng Xi. “Did you discover anything?”

“Yes.” With that single reply, Feng Xi stepped inside the carriage.

“Ha — as I thought.” Fengxi followed close behind him and climbed into his carriage, giving the shoulders of the twins standing at the carriage door each a pat. “Zhong Li, Zhong Yuan — you have something good to eat prepared on the carriage, yes? You have no idea how much I have missed your cooking these past few months!”

“We — we do,” the twins said, their faces flushing.

“Wonderful.” Fengxi smiled cheerfully, then turned to call out to Feng Qiwu. “Qiwu, are you not coming up?”

But Feng Qiwu stood there in a slight daze, watching these two people who seemed, in every way, complete opposites of one another, listening to their words that seemed to mock each other yet felt like something else entirely. The feeling was… all the others present were outsiders, unable to step into that composition of black mountains and white water, unable to understand their exchange, and even less able to perceive the undercurrent flowing between them. What was that undercurrent, exactly? A faint sigh rose in her heart — something that seemed like regret, something that seemed like a subtle ache, something that seemed like… pain.

“Black Fox, your beauty speaks with her eyes — only I wonder whether she knows that there are few who can read what she is saying, particularly when she is facing a fox who is so very skilled at playing the fool.” Fengxi laughed toward Feng Xi on the other side of the carriage, then turned her head to call out to the reticent beauty. “Qiwu! Qiwu!”

“Mm.” Feng Qiwu came back to herself, then took Xiao’er by the hand and stepped up into the carriage. Han Pu, who had evidently grown impatient with waiting behind her, simply leapt straight up into the carriage in one bound.

“Pu’er, are you not keeping Brother Yan company?” Fengxi grabbed his hand, intending to toss him back into their original carriage.

“No! No! I want to be with Elder Sister!” Han Pu clung to Fengxi with all four limbs like an octopus.

“All right, all right! Let go! I am not throwing you out.” Fengxi hurriedly began prying loose his four clinging appendages — being grabbed so tightly was genuinely uncomfortable.

Han Pu released his grip and limbs, but only because he had suddenly felt a chill at the back of his neck. He spun around to look — yet all he saw was Feng Xi seated at ease within the carriage, leisurely drinking his tea. Zhong Li and Zhong Yuan were busy bringing out food for Fengxi. Feng Qiwu had just settled onto a brocade stool, and Xiao’er had just released the arm she had been holding for Feng Qiwu. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“Brother Yan, I am sorry to leave you on your own — just follow along behind us.” Fengxi called out a word of farewell, gave a wave, and ducked inside the carriage.

Huaguo was the wealthiest of all the kingdoms, and its wealth resided in Qucheng.

As night descended and the lanterns of the city began to glow, the moon goddess on the horizon drew her gauzy veil about her and quietly revealed half of her face — perhaps wishing to steal a secret glance at the Hou Yi she had yearned for through ten thousand years of longing. She borrowed a sliver of the city’s lamplight and transformed it into rouge, dabbing it upon her luminous, white jade-like face, rendering her all at once misty and tender, bashful and hesitant.

A spring breeze, carrying the last faint chill of the season, swept across the earth as if wishing to draw close to the moon goddess — blowing up the long gauzy veil that hung from her face and draped across the land below. In that instant the sky turned crystalline and clear, and the splendor of lanterns and fire-trees blazed brilliantly, illuminating within secluded gardens the purple jade hairpin slipped secretly between trembling hands, the embroidered red shoe that had tumbled from the bedside, the nine-dragon jade pendant left forgotten inside a silk pouch, the faint melody drifting from a small window, and the snow-fragrant poem left lying beside a bronze mirror. This was a spring night — slightly cold, yet brimming with tender sentiment.

Before the most renowned pleasure house in Qucheng — the Lifang Pavilion — people came and went in an endless stream. Inside the pavilion, the sound of strings and wind instruments rang out, the hall was filled with cheers and applause like rolling thunder.

“I was wondering what you were sneaking around for — and it turns out you came here to watch beauties dance.”

High in the rafters of the clamorous and bustling great hall, two figures sat perched upon a beam. The white-robed woman leaned indolently against a pillar, looking down with cool eyes at the men below who had been driven to frenzied infatuation by the red-robed dancer on the performance stage. Her expression held a measure of faint amusement and a measure of contempt. The black-robed man sat cross-legged in a composed manner, turning a white jade flute between his fingers. His gaze swept at intervals across the dancer on the stage, then at others across the audience below — appearing careless and unconcerned, yet as though the entirety of the Lifang Pavilion lay within his command.

“Tell me — if you wished to admire a beauty, you could simply have walked through the front door like anyone else. Why skulk up here on the rafters to peek?” Fengxi glanced sidelong at Feng Xi beside her and asked. At this moment, every eye in the hall was fixed upon the beauty on the stage — no one could have imagined, let alone noticed, that there were two people perched upon the rafters.

“Do you see that man?” Feng Xi’s gaze swept toward someone in the crowd below.

Fengxi followed his gaze. The man appeared to be around forty-four or forty-five years of age, with a goatee below his chin. “What about him?”

“Qucheng is the wealthiest city in Huaguo, and the wealthiest men in Qucheng are Qiyi of the south side of the city and Shangye of the west. Qiyi vanished without a trace half a month ago for unknown reasons — and that man there is Shangye.” Feng Xi spoke in an unhurried tone.

At that very moment, the atmosphere within the hall had reached its peak. The red-robed dancer on the stage spun in a single twirl, and the thin gauze draped over her shoulders slipped free from her arms and drifted up into the air, floating lightly down into the crowd below. A mass of people surged forward, scrambling for it.

And still the beauty on the stage danced on. With the gauze gone, only a red silk breast wrap and a vivid red gauze skirt remained, revealing her alabaster shoulders and snow-white chest. The vigorous exertion of her dancing had left a thin sheen of fragrant perspiration on her skin. Her eyes sent glances drifting like ripples, her lotus arms curved in gentle arcs, her fingers trailing as though threading invisible silk — and with a single sweep, she had bound every gaze in the room. Her entire body moved as though boneless in its supple fluidity, every inch of her skin alive with motion. Her slender waist coiled and twisted like a water serpent, and her long, shapely jade-smooth legs appeared and vanished within the folds of the red gauze skirt, now extended, now drawn back — tantalizingly glimpsed…

“This dance should be called the Soul-Ensnaring Dance, and this beauty should be called the Spirit-Capturer. Look at all those men, every one of them ravenous with longing.” Fengxi had no attention to spare for who Shangye was. She watched the beauty blazing and whirling like a flame on the stage and murmured, “This beauty’s figure and face — she was born to captivate. Any man who laid eyes on her would have his heart moved!”

Indeed, the men below: necks craned long, throats bobbing up and down as they swallowed the saliva that had gathered at the corners of their mouths. Those who were seated clutched their fists tightly; those who were standing trembled faintly in the legs. Color flooded their faces, and pairs of reddened eyes, like hungry wolves, were fastened immovably upon the beauty — following her every movement with their gaze, their unguarded stares seeming to wish to strip away the last layer of red gauze from her body. The spring night had carried a light chill, yet the inside of the hall felt as though a fire burned — a stifling, searing, suffocating current of desire coursing through it. Some men’s fingers spread slightly apart, as though reaching out to grasp something; some loosened their collars; some raised their sleeves to wipe the sweat trickling down their faces and brows.

“It is spring, after all. Perfectly natural.” Feng Xi glanced down at the men below. At this moment, even if the two of them spoke at a slightly louder volume, those whose hearts and souls had been seized by the beauty would not hear a word.

“I simply do not believe you feel nothing!” Fengxi suddenly thrust her face close to his, wishing to scrutinize whether his expression was anything like those of the men on the floor below.

Feng Xi had not anticipated her sudden approach. He stilled for the briefest moment, looking at the glimmering, water-bright eyes so close beneath him, the porcelain-pale face, the lightly flushed corners of rosy lips — so near, that it seemed the slightest tilt forward would be enough to brush against them. In the still depths of his heart, which was ordinarily as undisturbed as a deep and silent pool, an inexplicable ripple stirred without cause.

“Just as I thought!” Fengxi lowered her voice and exclaimed. She reached out a hand and pressed it to his face. “Your face has gone red — and it is so warm. Your breathing is quickening, your muscles are tense, and also —”

Her gaze shifted downward. Feng Xi shot out a hand and pushed her away, fixing her with a look that held a flash of thin irritation and sheepishness. “Ridiculous.”

“You philandering ghost! You have the beauty Qiwu by your side and that is still not enough — you must come out seeking flowers and asking after willows!” Fengxi curled her lip and gave a derisive hum. “Though this red-robed beauty is lovely, in terms of looks alone, she still cannot compare to your Miss Feng.”

But Feng Xi paid her no mind. He glanced at the performance stage — the red-robed beauty had apparently finished her dance and was now bowing in gracious acknowledgment to the audience of admirers who had prostrated themselves at her feet. In an instant, he executed a light, soundless leap and landed without a sound on the second floor, as though a wisp of black smoke. In a single flash of movement, he slipped into a room. Fengxi naturally was not about to let him go, and followed right on his heels.

“What a splendid, gold-adorned and jade-encrusted soft and fragrant chamber!” The moment Fengxi stepped inside, she could not help but exclaim at the room’s lavish opulence.

“Did you see the dance clearly just now?” Feng Xi had no interest whatsoever in the extravagant furnishings. He walked directly into the inner chamber, examined it carefully, then drew near to the dressing table and began to rummage through the rouge and hairpins laid out upon it.

“Oh, that dance just now — truly something I have never witnessed in all my life! And to think, I used to frequent establishments of pleasure back in those days, yet not one of the performers there could compare to what I just saw!” Fengxi followed behind him, clicking her tongue in admiration.

“I imagine there is very little in this world that you, Bai Fengxi, have not visited, not played with, or do not know how to do — am I right?” Feng Xi turned to glance at her, and in his eyes gleamed a calculating light.

“Ha — Black Fox, the pot should not call the kettle black.” Fengxi walked toward a decorative screen and lifted from it a red gauze garment that had been draped over the frame. “The beauty just now truly is suited to wearing red — like a red peony, bewitchingly alluring, capable of toppling all of the mortal world’s admirers!”

At that very moment, the sound of the door opening came from outside, followed by a woman’s voice — as honeyed and seductive as to make one’s bones go soft.

“Lord Shang, please take a seat. Allow me to go inside and change, and then I shall dance one more piece especially for you.”

“Yes, yes, of course! Of course!” A man’s voice, slightly rough, rang out in rapid succession, barely able to conceal his impatient eagerness. “My beauty, you must be quick about it.”

“Your servant knows, Your Lordship. Please have a cup of ginseng tea first — I shall be right out.”

The bead curtain swayed aside, and a heady, rich cloud of floral powder drifted in. The red-robed beauty swayed into the inner chamber with a bewitching sway of her hips, and had just begun to undo her garments when her body went slack and she crumpled toward the floor. Before she struck the ground, a pair of long arms caught her and laid her gently down upon a soft couch.

“Quite the tender regard for the fairer sex,” came only the subtle movement of Fengxi’s lips, a sliver of sound conveyed directly into Feng Xi’s ear.

“Put that on.” Feng Xi pointed at the red gauze garment on the screen, relaying his words to Fengxi by the same technique of projecting sound.

“Why?” Fengxi looked at that blazing red dress. What a garish color!

“To dance.” Feng Xi said simply.

“Why dance?” Fengxi asked again.

“Are you not trying to investigate the Soul-Severing Sect? That Shangye outside is a lead.” Feng Xi gestured toward the rouge and jewelry on the dressing table. “Do it yourself — and be quick about it.”

“Black Fox, have you lost your mind? You want me to perform the dance that beauty just did? I do not know how!” Fengxi stared at him in disbelief, unable to fathom how he could have arrived at such an idea. Ask her to dance? Only he could have thought of something like that!

“The person I captured last time at Changli Lake would sooner die than talk, so you must draw it out of him without his awareness — otherwise you will never be able to find the people of the Soul-Severing Sect. All you need to do is get him to reveal Qiyi’s whereabouts.” Feng Xi paid her no heed whatsoever, and having finished speaking, he stepped out from behind the screen. At the moment he turned away, he glanced back with a faint smile. “As for whether you know how to dance — you and I both know the answer to that perfectly well. Bai Fengxi is supremely clever; she sees something once and it is hers. Moreover, is this sort of dance even comparable to…”

The rest went unspoken. Their eyes met, and both were sharp and bright as blades, as though each could see through the other’s past and future in a single glance.

“You wretched, conniving black fox!” Fengxi ground her teeth.

“The man outside is growing impatient.” Feng Xi gestured toward Shangye outside, then stepped around the screen to give Fengxi space to change.

“Performing a seductive dance — now that is something I have truly done in this lifetime.” Fengxi murmured to herself. She picked up the scarlet gauze robe, luminous as fire and as splendid as rosy clouds, and a smile brimming with brightness suddenly rose in her eyes. “For something like this — something one might do perhaps only once in an entire lifetime — of course I, Fengxi, must do it well, and do it without a single flaw. Ha ha…”

“My beauty, are you not finished changing yet?” Shangye’s urging voice drifted from beyond the curtain.

“Coming, coming!”

A soft and melodious voice, clear as a bird’s call. The bead curtain swayed gently. A shimmer of brilliant light, and a beauty emerged — shy and radiant. Cloud-like hair gathered high, face veiled in thin gauze, lightly wrapped in red silk, arms adorned with shimmering turquoise ribbon, bare feet pale as lotus blossoms, tender and white as jade. She stepped with the lightness of skimming across water, drifting forward — and wherever the eye fell, that crimson carpet seemed to transform into a shimmering pool of red water, upon which floated a single incomparable red lotus.

Shangye, lying upon the couch, was instantly beguiled, his very soul surrendering to his eyes!

From behind the curtain, a short flute began to play softly — its first notes like jade fingers lightly striking a string of pendants, clear and crisp, lifting the spirit with a single sound — and then, without warning, the melody shifted, turning pliant and ornate, languid and intoxicating, like the honeyed sighs and tender singing of a beauty, winding around the very bones…

That red lotus swayed into dance with the flute’s melody. A single sinuous twist of her slender waist, and it was as though all of spring bloomed without limit. A single soft extension of her delicate hands, and it was as though gossamer threads of spring were woven into a net. The turquoise ribbon swept a circle through the air, and it was as though tender emotion unfurled in ten thousand strands. The light tap of jade-pale feet, the gentle lift of shapely legs — each was a snare for the soul. The delicate arch of willow-leaf brows, the flow and drift of glancing eyes — each was a capturer of spirits. The thin gauze across her face set every heart itching with yearning; the red skirt whirled and billowed like waves; a strand of dark hair teased the fragrant curve of a cheek; a single drop of perfumed perspiration fell like scattered jade-snow. Her lithe form twisted in movements of consummate enchantment — like a peach tree in full blossom, dancing through all its hundred charms and thousand graces; like a peony in bloom, dancing through all its sovereign beauty and celestial fragrance; like a crabapple in flower, dancing through all its ten thousand kinds of allure…

“My beauty, let me hold you! My beauty, stop dancing — let me hold you!” Shangye, powerless to resist, rose to his feet and moved toward her, his lips murmuring ceaselessly. By now he had lost himself entirely — his soul following his eyes, his eyes following the person before him. His entire heart and mind held only this one peerless woman, and all he wanted was to seize this incomparable beauty in his arms.

Yet the beauty before him went on dancing and spinning, always slipping just out of reach the moment his hand was about to touch her — tightening his heart to bursting, making his body tense with desperate urgency until he was clumsy and slow.

“My Lord Shang.” The beauty’s voice, sweet as the song of an oriole or the trill of a swallow, rang out in gentle, honeyed tones. “Why are you in such a hurry? After I have finished dancing, will I not let you hold me? Last time, Lord Qi watched your servant’s full dance all the way through. If you act this way, does it not imply that your servant’s dancing is not worth watching?”

“My beauty, I simply cannot wait any longer!” Shangye seized what he judged to be the right moment and lunged — certain he would have the beauty in his arms — but found only empty air. He stumbled and nearly fell.

“My Lord Shang, why can you not be like Lord Qi and sit quietly to watch your servant finish this dance?” The beauty’s voice came from behind him, gentle and sweetly reproachful. “Lord Qi lavished your servant with the greatest praise last time.”

Shangye turned around and made another grab for the beauty. “My darling, what is so good about that man surnamed Qi? He has been locked up in Qixue Court by now, unlike me — still free and at ease…” But at that, his body gave a sudden shudder, then crumpled to the floor. Only his eyes remained wide open, filled with shock and terror, yet he could neither speak nor move.

“Your hands were quick!” Fengxi stopped dancing and sat down on the soft couch, pulling away the thin gauze from her face. She stretched her arms and exhaled a long breath — that dance just now had consumed no small amount of energy. She had been so afraid she would not look convincing enough and give herself away.

The curtain parted and Feng Xi stepped out, wearing a light and easy smile — yet his usually elusive and hard-to-read eyes were at this moment fixed like needles upon Shangye lying on the floor.

With those eyes upon him, Shangye felt as though his entire body had turned to ice. That gaze was like two sharp blades, seeming to bore two holes clean through him — or to gouge out his very eyes — piercing and ruthless! His already panicked state of mind plunged into terror upon terror, and cold sweat broke out in great drops at his brow.

Who were these two people? How had he failed to notice them at all? What was their purpose? Wealth? Shangye’s mind was full of unanswered questions, yet he was powerless to move or make a sound.

“Is this really all the wealthiest man in Huaguo amounts to?” Fengxi leaned sideways on the couch, casting a sidelong glance at Shangye trembling on the floor.

Upon hearing this, Feng Xi’s gaze shifted to her where she lay reclined upon the couch. Scarlet robes like fire, breathing still slightly unsteady, the casually pinned clouds of her hair grown a little disheveled, one hand pillowing the back of her head and the other fanning herself in languid ease, eyes half-closed — like an intoxicated red lotus, slightly unequal to the wine, languid and drowsy.

“In the ten years I have known you, this seems to be the first time I have seen you dressed like this.” Feng Xi approached the couch, leaned slightly forward, and looked down at Fengxi lying there. His eyes were at once like fire and like ice. He extended a hand and lightly hooked the turquoise ribbon coiled about Fengxi’s arm. “It turns out that…”

“It turns out that I am this magnificent and breathtakingly beautiful as well, yes? Is that not so?” Before he could finish, Fengxi spoke for him, turning her wrist so that the ribbon was reeled back in, inch by inch — and with it, Feng Xi was gradually drawn closer. “Young Master — does this servant’s humble appearance meet with your approval?”

“Like a flower in full bloom, luminous as flowing water.” Feng Xi gripped the ribbon in his hand and smiled faintly.

The two of them now — one slightly reclined, the other leaning over to look down; one radiant as morning clouds, the other as warm and lustrous as jade; one softly tender and charming, the other with eyes full of feeling; one with a slender hand half-extended as if to draw the beloved before her closer, the other with an arm bent and reaching as though to gather a slender waist — connected between them by the turquoise ribbon, the distance separating them less than a foot, close enough to feel the warmth of each other’s breath, eyes meeting eyes. It was, very nearly, a perfect painting of a talented scholar and a beautiful woman.

But then a sharp tearing sound shattered the perfect mood — and with it, one figure fell back with a thud onto the soft couch, and the other staggered back three full steps, both their complexions draining white as paper for a single instant.

“Ha — still a draw.” Fengxi dropped the half-length of turquoise ribbon remaining in her hand, drawing in a deep breath to settle the surging currents of qi and blood within her. “So you had best accept the pairing of Baifeng Heixi as it stands. If you want it to be Heixi Baifeng — keep working at it.”

“Cough…” Feng Xi let out a faint cough, his breath briefly disordered, his handsome face alternating between red and pale, and only after a moment did it return to its usual state. “No wonder they say a woman’s heart is the most venomous of all things. You actually used ‘Phoenix Howls Through Nine Heavens’ — I nearly met my end at your hands.”

“And you were no different, using ‘Orchid Darkens the World’.” Fengxi was entirely unapologetic. “Black Fox, do you think there is anyone else in this world who could receive both your ‘Phoenix Howls Through Nine Heavens’ and my ‘Orchid Darkens the World’? I can only ever use them against you — it is really quite dull.”

“Next time you could try Yu Wuyuan.” Feng Xi thought of that Yu Wuyuan, who seemed untouched by the world of dust. “See whether his title of Number One Young Master Under Heaven lives up to its name.”

“Yu Wuyuan — the title of number one they speak of is not just in terms of martial arts. It speaks of his character as a person.” Upon hearing the name, Fengxi fixed her gaze on Feng Xi as though trying to read something from his eyes. “What are you scheming now?”

“I am only answering what you asked. Where is the scheming in that?” Feng Xi lowered his eyes and turned the jade thumb ring on his finger. “What about you? Do you also consider that Yu Wuyuan to be number one under heaven?”

“Ha — you are displeased in your heart, are you?” Fengxi let out a light laugh, then rose to her feet, stretched out a great yawn, and walked toward the inner chamber. She lifted the soft red gauze bed curtain aside. “All right then — you go look for Qiyi. As for me, I intend to sleep. I have been tossing about for more than half the night, and I am terribly tired. Mm — this bed is quite comfortable at that — fragrant and soft. No wonder you men love coming to places like this.”

“Woman, even if you want to sleep, must you sleep here of all places? One of these days you will die of that fondness for eating and sleeping of yours.” Feng Xi looked at her with a thread of helpless resignation. Was this really a place one came to sleep?

“Unless this black fox of yours intends to kill me, I will not die so easily.” Fengxi lifted the brocade quilt and burrowed inside.

“Oh? Are you not the one who has been pursuing the Soul-Severing Sect all this time? The answer is practically within reach, and you are simply not going to follow through? That is very unlike you.” Feng Xi said with a mocking smile.

“Qiyi must be locked up in that Qixue Court by now. With your capabilities, that is simply a matter of reaching out your hand — why would I need to make an extra trip? When you return, I can simply ask you instead. Shangye and that red-robed beauty have had their acupuncture points sealed by you, and it will take at least four hours before they recover — so I can sleep quite well, and you can wake me when you come back.” Fengxi let out a yawn, turned over, and proceeded to sleep entirely on her own terms.

Feng Xi looked at Fengxi within the gauze curtains. Her entire person had burrowed under the quilt, with only a strand of long hair trailing out from beneath the covers and draping down over the edge of the bed. He let out a faint sigh and shifted his gaze away.

He turned and walked out of the room, then after a moment walked back in, with a rope now in his hand. In three moves and five turns he had Shangye bound up tightly and securely. Once done, his gaze swept to a blue porcelain vase on the table, and with a strange smile, he lifted it and placed it on top of Shangye.

The hapless Shangye lay on the floor — unable to move, unable to speak — and could only watch with wide, helpless eyes as others arranged him as they pleased.

After Feng Xi departed, at roughly a quarter of an hour’s time, Shangye began carefully and with every last ounce of his strength to attempt to stir his hands and feet — yet his four limbs remained utterly immovable.

Why had they come looking for Qiyi? And why were they looking for him? Could it be… Shangye’s mind jolted suddenly, and a chill swept through his heart. Could it be because of…

“Ha ha… Shangye, how uncomfortable must this be?”

The stillness of the room was suddenly broken by a bright and clear laugh. Shangye strained to turn his head — and at the very corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a white hem.

“Shangye, would you be willing to tell me — why did you and Qiyi bribe the people of the Soul-Severing Sect to break into the Han family and seize their medicine, wiping out the entire household?” The white-robed figure, as though understanding his difficulty, moved of her own accord to stand before him, bent slightly at the waist, and smiled pleasantly as she asked. Her long dark hair nearly swept the floor, half-obscuring her face.

“Oh — I quite forgot you had your acupuncture points sealed.” Seeing that he gave no answer, Fengxi swept her sleeve and released the point that had been holding him. “Now tell me everything you know.”

“Who are you people?” Shangye asked.

“That is not for you to ask.” Fengxi extended one finger and wagged it gently back and forth. “Be a good boy and answer my questions. You and Qiyi are both men of immense wealth, and you have no part in the jianghu. Why would you want to get your hands on the Han family’s medicinal formula? Surely not enough to wipe out the entire Han household over a single formula? That is something I cannot make sense of.”

Upon hearing her question, Shangye turned his head away and refused to respond.

“Answer me.” Fengxi moved once more to stand before him, her smile unchanged, her expression relaxed and easy. “What did you need the Han family’s formula for?”

Shangye remained silent, and moreover shut his eyes.

“Shangye, I am no kindhearted soul.” Fengxi’s voice became very soft and slow and drawn out, the kind that made one’s heart creep with unease just listening to it. “At times, in order to achieve a goal, I am quite accustomed to employing certain extraordinary methods.”

Yet Shangye remained silent as before.

“Shangye, have you ever heard of ‘Ten Thousand Ants Gnawing the Heart’? It does not matter if you have not.” Fengxi smiled sweetly and pressed a single finger lightly against Shangye’s body, then watched him with perfect composure. “Do you understand now?”

Shangye’s expression changed violently in an instant. His body shuddered, and the vase began to topple — Fengxi’s hand shot out and caught it. On the floor, Shangye had already curled into a tight ball, writhing continuously, his five features scrunched together, his teeth clamped down hard upon his lip — plainly in agonizing suffering that was difficult to endure.

“I believe there must be someone behind the two of you.” Fengxi sat down directly on the floor and pressed close to Shangye, her expression flashing cold in an instant. “With the wealth that rivals a nation that you two command, you could certainly have hired the Soul-Severing Sect on your own — yet you did not. So there was someone instructing you. Who is that person? Who is the one who ordered the slaughter of over two hundred and seventy people of the Han family for the sake of a medicinal formula?!”

Shangye jerked his head up abruptly, his face drenched in cold sweat, and rasped out: “Kill me then! I will never speak!”

“Sooner die than speak, is that it?” Fengxi laughed softly, barely above a murmur. “This ‘Ten Thousand Ants Gnawing the Heart’ is not a pleasant sensation, is it? And I have other methods that are far less pleasant still. Do you truly wish to experience each of them in turn?”

Upon hearing this, Shangye’s eyes contracted in an involuntary flinch of dread — yet the moment he thought of what would happen if that secret were revealed… not only would he himself have no grave to be buried in, but what the Shang family and the Qi family would face in consequence would be far more devastating than what had befallen the Han family.

“Are you not afraid? Shall we try the next one?” Fengxi’s voice was gentler than a spring breeze — yet to Shangye’s ears, it was more terrifying than the voice of a demon.

Shangye looked at the woman before him, all smiles and dimples, and endured the agony inside his body — as though ten thousand ants were gnawing through him — and in desperate despair, he pleaded: “Miss, I ask only that you give me a clean death!”

“Ha ha ha — truly sooner dead than willing to talk!” Fengxi suddenly burst into open laughter, unconcerned with whether it would startle anyone, and with a sweep of her sleeve she released Shangye from his torment. “Shangye, I am not going to kill you.”

The moment those words reached his ears, a flicker of relief rose in Shangye’s heart — but the words that followed from Fengxi cast him straight into the abyss.

“You have not revealed anything to me — but when the person behind you learns that you were captured by us… what do you think he will do to you?” Fengxi patted her hands together and rose to her feet, brushing aside the long hair that obscured half her face, and the crescent of pale light at her brow was revealed.

“You — you — you are —!” Shangye cried out in a trembling voice.

“Now you know who we are, do you not? You are welcome to go and tell your master. Only — I am worried for you. That person may want your life, and may want it sooner than you think.” Fengxi’s laughter grew all the more joyful. She tilted her head to listen, and a look of amused interest gleamed in her eyes. “Shh — listen. There are many footsteps approaching, heading this way. It will not be long before all of Qucheng knows that the great Lord Shang was found tied up in a room.”

“No —” Shangye stared at the white-robed woman pushing open the window, and cried out in terror — in this moment, he would have sooner died than let that person come to know.

Fengxi looked back, gazing at Shangye lying on the floor, trembling from head to foot in fear, and smiled with harmless warmth. “Ha ha… Shangye, you could have lived out your days in comfort and wealth. But unfortunately… consider this your punishment for the Han family’s annihilation.”

With that, she gave a light spring and vanished into the dark of night. The wind still carried her voice back — tinged with faint, lingering reluctance. “It seems I will still have to go and ask that black fox after all.”