Upon the round table draped in a pale blue cloth rested two objects — a gleaming golden leaf and a pink silk handkerchief.

“These two things are all you have to show for your efforts?”

In the finest room of the grandest inn in Qucheng, the room designated by the character for “Heaven,” Fengxi circled the round table once and still could not fathom why these two objects had given that black fox such an air of confident certainty.

“Look more carefully.” Feng Xi lifted his teacup and took a gentle sip. Mm — not bad at all. The Rain Leaf brew of Huaguo truly was fragrant.

“Is there something special about them?” Fengxi picked up the golden leaf in her left hand and pinched the silk handkerchief in her right. “This golden leaf looks like an ordinary golden leaf to me. The two embroidered patterns on this handkerchief are rather distinctive though — mm, and the needlework is quite fine as well.”

“Have you looked carefully at the veining on that golden leaf?” Feng Xi set down his teacup and walked over, taking the golden leaf from her hand. “All golden leaves from the various kingdoms of Dong Chao have seven veins, but look at this one — there is an extra, faint vein near the stem. All golden leaves issued by the Qi Ji Bank of Huaguo carry markings like this.”

“Ha — I am hardly as well-versed in gold, silver, and jewels — to say nothing of fine carriages and beautiful women — as you are. Of course I would not know as clearly as you do.” Fengxi waved the golden leaf and handkerchief in her hand. “You obtained this golden leaf at Changli Lake?”

“When we arrived at Changli Lake, we were already too late — the Soul-Severing Sect had long since abandoned their nest entirely. Though we did manage to capture one of their members, he took his own life, and all I retrieved from his body was this golden leaf.” Feng Xi turned the golden leaf over in his hand as he spoke.

“So you traced it to Qucheng hoping to find Qiyi, the head of the Qi family?” Fengxi ventured another guess.

“Yes — but again I was one step too late. Qiyi had already vanished without a trace, so I turned my attention to Shangye.” Feng Xi set the golden leaf down.

“But how did you know Shangye was also connected to this matter?” Fengxi pressed further. There had been no evidence pointing to Shangye’s involvement with the Soul-Severing Sect.

“I did not know.” Feng Xi said — which was not what anyone expected. “I was simply making a gamble, putting out a probe. After all, the Soul-Severing Sect only follows money, and Shangye’s wealth is no less than Qiyi’s. As it turned out, my gamble paid off — Shangye was not only connected to this affair, but his involvement may well be closer even than Qiyi’s.”

“Hmph! It sounds to me like I was made use of last night.” Fengxi said with a cold snort.

“You might call it a collaboration.” Feng Xi smiled — a rather sly smile.

“There is one thing I still cannot quite make sense of. With Qiyi and Shangye’s financial resources, if they needed the Han family’s miraculous medicine, they could simply have bought it from Old Han — as much as they wanted, at any price. There would have been absolutely no need to acquire the formula, let alone wipe out the entire Han family!” Fengxi turned over the question that had been nagging at her all along.

“I believe the answer lies on this handkerchief.” Feng Xi spread the pink silk handkerchief flat on the table, tracing the embroidered pattern on it with his fingertip.

“Is that what you found at Qixue Court last night? What about Qiyi himself?” Fengxi also looked at the handkerchief.

“What I found was Qiyi’s corpse. He had long since been killed in his own secret chamber — a chamber that, in all likelihood, no one else knew of besides him. So he had been dead for several days without any of his household noticing.” A cold gleam passed through Feng Xi’s eyes. “This handkerchief was what I found inside the chamber, stored in an ornately carved wooden box, hidden in a very concealed spot. I brought it back with me.”

“How can you be certain the owner of this handkerchief has anything to do with this matter? Given the color, it is entirely possible some woman dear to Qiyi gave it to him — which is precisely why he kept it so well hidden.” Fengxi snatched the handkerchief from his hand. This powdery, delicate color was something only a woman would favor — it was impossible to imagine a grown man making use of it. “And even if the owner of this handkerchief is connected to the matter, how would you go about finding the owner from this handkerchief alone?”

Upon hearing this, Feng Xi could not help but smile faintly and shake his head. “Woman, when did you become this slow? You have been staring at it for so long and still have not seen it?”

“Could it be this pattern?” Fengxi narrowed her eyes and looked more carefully at the embroidered pattern on the handkerchief. “This thing looks like some sort of beast, but I truly cannot think of what kind.”

“You and I both know that Qiyi and Shang — men of enormous wealth, neither of them people of the jianghu, and bearing no grudge whatsoever against the Han family — had absolutely no reason of their own to hire assassins to seize the medicine.” Feng Xi took the handkerchief from her hand and spread it flat on the table. “Therefore, the one who bribed the Soul-Severing Sect and caused the annihilation of the Han family must be someone who manipulated them from behind the scenes. And given their wealth and standing, everyone in all of Qucheng, indeed all of Huaguo, would treat them with the utmost deference and scramble to curry their favor — how much less would anyone dare ‘instruct’ them.”

“So the only thing that could move them…” A flash of understanding crossed Fengxi’s face.

“The only thing that could compel them to surrender their fortunes and make contact with the Soul-Severing Sect — a sect they would normally go to any lengths to avoid — is power!” Feng Xi declared with certainty, and a bright light blazed in his eyes. “They may have money, but above money stands power!”

“So the one instructing them must be someone who holds power in Huaguo! And the pattern on this handkerchief must be intimately connected to that person.” Light flashed equally in Fengxi’s eyes as she stared at Feng Xi without blinking, afraid to miss a single piece of information in the eyes of this cunning man.

“This person not only wanted the Han family’s medicine — he wanted their formula. More than that, he wished that no one else in the world would possess this formula. So he directed the wealthiest men in Huaguo, Qiyi and Shangye, to serve as his intermediaries with the Soul-Severing Sect, to seize the medicine and formula and exterminate the Han family. Only — though he did seize some of the medicine and did wipe out the Han family, he never anticipated that Old Han would sooner die than surrender the formula, and would instead pass it to you — his sworn adversary — and that was his first miscalculation.” Feng Xi worked through his deductions, the light of keen intelligence shining openly in his eyes.

“And he also never anticipated that this matter would draw you and me into investigating it. You said you were ambushed by the Soul-Severing Sect in Taicheng — most likely they were trying to kill Han Pu, the last surviving member of the Han family. That, too, failed, and instead they led you to trace them all the way to Huaguo. He must have grown alert as well, which is why he vacated the nest at Changli Lake ahead of time — but I had already caught up, and obtained the golden leaf that revealed Qiyi’s identity. So he killed Qiyi, yet left Shangye untouched — probably not wishing for the deaths of two men who commanded the wealth of an entire kingdom to destabilize Huaguo’s economic stability. As for this handkerchief — perhaps he gave it to Qiyi as a token, or perhaps he dropped it and Qiyi retrieved it and kept it hidden.”

“So do you know who this person actually is?” Fengxi tilted her head to ask.

“Do you truly not know what this pattern is?” Feng Xi answered her question with a question of his own, pointing to the embroidered pattern on the handkerchief. It seemed to be one creature, or perhaps two.

“I do not.” Fengxi looked once more — she had genuinely never seen this kind of beast before.

“What a pity.” Feng Xi’s tone carried a trace of what seemed like genuine regret.

Fengxi’s brow furrowed, her eyes narrowed, and she snatched the handkerchief into her fist. “Stop keeping me in suspense. If you do not tell me right now, I will tear this into shreds!”

Unfortunately for her, the person she was dealing with was Feng Xi — someone who had known her for ten years. He was entirely unfazed. He turned away unhurriedly, strolled back to his chair, sat down, lifted his teacup, and resumed sipping his tea at leisure.

Fengxi had always had some tolerance for others, but never much patience where he was concerned. Her figure flashed — she was at his side in an instant like the wind. Her hand shot out and the cup was in her hand. A flick sent it back to the table. Another reach, and she had his collar in her grip, fingers tightening. She leaned slightly forward, pressing close to that handsome face. “Black Fox — speak, now!” Every motion and word flowed together seamlessly, as decisively practiced as something honed over long years!

“Have you noticed that the two of us look rather like the image on the handkerchief right now?” As he spoke, Feng Xi spread both arms and draped them across Fengxi’s shoulders. Channeling his strength into his arms, he gave the gentlest of pulls — Fengxi lost her footing and fell into his embrace, and in an instant the two of them were pressed tightly together, as though merged into one.

“We do look something like it.” Fengxi glanced at the embroidered pattern on the handkerchief. “Though this — now this is what it truly looks like.”

With that, she bent both knees and sat down upon Feng Xi’s lap, and with a pull, Feng Xi’s neck inclined forward. In an instant his complexion went pale and his breathing grew slightly unsteady. And as she sat, Feng Xi’s knee shuddered as though struck by something heavy, while Fengxi’s waist seemed unable to straighten — her body leaned further into his embrace, her shoulders alternately tilting forward and back.

If anyone had happened to look in at that moment, they would have seen what appeared to be a pair of deeply devoted, inseparably entwined lovers — a delicate young woman nestled in her beloved’s arms, her head tilted up slightly, her eyes full of tenderness; a handsome and refined young man with his arm around his beloved, his face turned gently to the side, his gaze as soft as water. Anyone who saw them would have thought them a perfect match made by heaven. Only — the slightly trembling legs, the faintly shaking shoulders, and the complexions that shifted between white, red, and ashen disrupted the beautiful scene, as though both were being pressed down by some tremendous invisible weight and could barely breathe.

“They are called the Qiongqiong and the Juxu — legendary creatures who are alike in nature and inseparable, never parting from each other’s shadow.” Feng Xi said softly, though he paused after each word, as though something had seized him by the throat.

“The Qiongqiong and the Juxu?” Fengxi echoed back, equally halting, word by careful word. The knuckles of her jade-pale hands had already turned a deep bluish purple.

“Elder Sister! Are you in there?”

Han Pu’s voice called from outside the door, and then the door was pushed open. Han Pu, Feng Qiwu, Xiao’er, Zhong Li, and Zhong Yuan filed in one after another. Before the five of them had time to cry out in surprise at the two figures’ intimate posture, there came a resounding crash — a flash of movement — and when they looked again, a chair lay shattered in pieces across the floor. The two people, however, were standing unharmed in the room, their faces composed, their breathing even. One smoothed her sleeves, the other swept back her long hair, both of them perfectly at ease, as though nothing whatsoever had occurred.

Han Pu and Feng Qiwu — one stared wide-eyed in bewilderment at the two people in the room, not understanding what had happened; the other’s complexion drained white as paper in an instant, her eyes flickering between brightness and shadow.

“Truly, these two cannot seem to go anywhere without finding a way to compete with each other!” Xiao’er looked at the two of them and murmured with a small sigh.

“And now we owe the innkeeper another chair!” the twins lamented simultaneously.

“Elder Sister, what were you two doing?” Han Pu walked into the room and asked Fengxi.

“Seeing which is stronger — ‘Phoenix Howls Through Nine Heavens’ or ‘Orchid Darkens the World’.” Fengxi said with a blink.

“Oh.” Han Pu’s interest was immediately piqued. “And the result?”

“Alas — same as always.” Fengxi said with a regretful sigh.

“Zhong Li, Zhong Yuan — start packing up. We set out in one hour.” Feng Xi instructed the twins.

“Xiao’er, go and help Miss Feng get her things together as well.” Feng Xi’s gaze swept over to Feng Qiwu with a light, unhurried instruction.

“Yes.”

The twins withdrew with a word of assent, and Xiao’er led Feng Qiwu away as well.

“Your beauty Miss Feng seems to have misunderstood something — she looks quite distressed.” Fengxi smiled with an air of amused contemplation, thinking of Feng Qiwu’s drained, pale face.

“What would there be for anyone to misunderstand?” Feng Xi looked at her and asked in return.

“Hmm?” Fengxi stilled at that. What did he mean by that? Though after ten years of roughhousing and banter like that, there truly was nothing in any of it to be misunderstood.

“Do not crush the handkerchief in your hand.” Feng Xi reminded her — she was clutching it so tightly.

“Oh.” Fengxi opened her hand and looked at the handkerchief, studying the two mythical beasts nestled close together in the embroidery. “You said these are the legendary Qiongqiong and Juxu?”

“Yes.” Feng Xi gave a nod, his eyes growing distant and deep, as though sinking into some memory. “If my recollection serves me correctly, I believe I saw these creatures fifteen years ago.”

“You saw them?” Fengxi’s eyes widened involuntarily. He had actually seen creatures that existed only in legend?

“I should say I saw statues of these two mythical beasts.” Feng Xi clarified.

“Where?” Fengxi pressed urgently.

“Hua Du!” Feng Xi said simply.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Their eyes met, and in that instant, it seemed as though each had understood the other’s thought.

“In truth, I cannot be entirely certain.” After a long pause, Feng Xi added.

“We can go and see for ourselves.” A gleam of intrigue lit Fengxi’s eyes.

“Elder Sister, why is everyone in such a hurry — where are we going?” Han Pu, finding no one paying him any attention, had gone to prop himself against the window on his own, watching the people coming and going on the street below. “Is Huaguo not supposed to be the wealthiest of the six kingdoms? Then why are there so many poor people?”

“You silly child — however wealthy a place may be, the wealth never reaches the common people.” Fengxi drew near to stand beside him and looked out the window. On the street below, a great many people in tattered, ragged clothing — paupers and beggars — were all streaming toward the same place.

“Then who does the wealth go to?” Han Pu asked again.

“To the merchants, corrupt officials, the powerful and privileged, and the noble houses — of course.” Fengxi looked at those people barely covered by their clothing, and her voice carried a certain coldness. “For ordinary common people, the very best they can hope for is enough food to fill their bellies and enough clothes to keep them warm.”

“Since those people have so much money and these people have none at all, why can’t you just make the wealthy ones share some with those who have nothing? That way, everyone could eat and be clothed.” Han Pu voiced his own thoughts on the matter.

“Ha ha — Pu’er… you… you actually think this way?!” Fengxi burst out laughing — whether at Han Pu’s innocence, or at the injustice of the world itself, it was impossible to say.

“Is it not possible?” Han Pu’s handsome face colored faintly at Fengxi’s laugh. “Would it not be a good thing?”

“Pu’er, your idea is a wonderful one.” Fengxi stopped laughing and reached over to pat Han Pu on the head. “But how many people in this world would ever agree with you? The human heart, Pu’er — it is self-serving, through and through.”

“Like a blank sheet of white paper, ready to be painted on however one pleases.” Feng Xi looked at Han Pu and remarked.

“I would not paint on it. I would rather it stayed white forever.” Fengxi looked at Han Pu, and a deep sigh settled in her eyes. “And if that cannot be — then at the very least, let him paint it himself, with whatever colors the world offers.”

“What are you two talking about?” Han Pu could not follow them, and looked at both of them with mild frustration.

“What is going on with all those poor people?” Fengxi did not answer Han Pu, and turned to ask Feng Xi instead.

“There was a great fire on the west side of the city last night that burned down an entire street — and you had no idea, you slept through the whole thing. The fact that you have lived safely to this day is nothing short of a miracle.” Feng Xi’s smile carried a faint edge of mockery. His gaze shifted to the crowd on the street below. “Those must be people left homeless after the fire, along with some of the city’s beggars and poor who were already there.”

Upon hearing this, Fengxi went quiet and listened intently. After a moment, she turned to glare at Feng Xi, and something of undisguised astonishment moved across her face. “What did you do this time?”

“Elder Sister, what is it?” Han Pu could not help but ask. “Why are all those poor people rushing over there?”

“Because someone is distributing grain and silver over there.” Fengxi said, looking at Feng Xi.

“Who is being so generous?” Han Pu asked.

“I myself would very much like to know when you developed such a benevolent and righteous heart.” Fengxi turned and perched herself on the window ledge, fixing her gaze on Feng Xi with an expression somewhere between admiring and mocking.

“I imagine that right now, everyone in all of Qucheng is curious as to how that mysterious fire broke out at the Shang residence last night.” Feng Xi walked toward the flower stand and reached out to run his fingers lightly over the pot of orchids on it. “That fire did not merely reduce the entire Shang estate to ash — with many dead and injured — it also spread to and damaged the neighbors along the entire street.”

“Reduced the entire Shang estate to ash?” Fengxi jumped to her feet at that — but one look at Feng Xi’s unhurried composure made her settle back down into the chair beside the window. She thought for a moment and said, “Could it be that Shangye set fire to himself?”

“Mm.” Feng Xi pulled out a withered yellow leaf and gathered it between his fingers, then opened them again — a dusting of powder fell down into the pot. “The fire was real. The burning of a vast fortune was also real. That many of his household members died or were injured is also real. The only thing that was false was the self-immolation.”

“Ah — so he escaped?” Fengxi understood now, and let out a faint, contemptuous laugh. “They say there is no merchant who is not crafty — truly, crafty to the core.”

“After the commotion you and I caused last night, how could Shangye dare stay in Qucheng? Of course he would flee while that person had not yet heard of it. In the middle of the night, he took his wife and son, drove the carriage himself, and slipped away quietly. Before leaving, he set the fire — intending to fake his own death. A pity — the ones who actually died were the concubines and servants of the Shang household, still asleep in their beds.” Feng Xi dusted his hands together, as though brushing away the last traces of the leaf’s powder — or as though applauding Shangye’s maneuver. A smile of indecipherable meaning hung at the corner of his mouth.

“Ha — this Shangye of yours, capable of making a decisive move in an instant, resolute and swift in action! Taking his wife and children with him — not entirely without conscience! And a fortune that could rival a kingdom — cast aside without a moment’s hesitation when the moment called for it! He is something else entirely. No wonder he became one of the wealthiest men in Huaguo.” Fengxi’s tone was cold and mocking, yet in her eyes there was also a glimmer of genuine respect.

“A man like him is the kind who flourishes in this world where the strong devour the weak.” Feng Xi pulled away another dried petal and brought it close to his eyes, as though examining the veining on its surface. “He is exceptionally intelligent. As long as he keeps his life, he can naturally build his fortune again from nothing. Life must come first — everything else follows from that.”

“You speak as though you watched him do all of it with your own eyes.” Fengxi’s brow furrowed slightly, and the gaze she settled on him was razor-sharp, edged with a cold gleam.

“I was at Qixue Court — how could I have seen any of it with my own eyes?” Feng Xi smiled faintly and tossed the dried petal into the pot. “I simply had people stationed around the Shang estate who witnessed it all and reported back to me.”

“You — ha ha — of course!” Fengxi suddenly burst out laughing, rose to her feet, and raised a hand to her brow, five fingers spreading slightly as though to shield her own eyes. “I should have thought of this long ago. You never do anything without a purpose. Every single move is calculated to the last detail before you ever make it. How did it take me until now to see it clearly!”

“Elder Sister!” Han Pu, who had been quietly listening to one side, saw Fengxi burst into laughter and could not help reaching out to take her hand. In this moment, though she was laughing, he felt that she did not want to laugh at all — did not feel the slightest happiness — as though deep grief and indignation were pressing down on her heart.

“If I were not this way, I would not be the Feng Xi you know in your heart.” Feng Xi remained as composed and unruffled as ever.

“What a brilliant move this was.” Fengxi seemed not to notice Han Pu’s hand holding hers. Her gaze drifted and settled on Feng Xi, her voice as soft as a murmur. “Since you had already placed people around the Shang estate, the Shang family’s assets certainly were not all consumed in the fire — at least nine out of ten of them fell into your hands. With a fortune the size of the Shang family’s, you did nothing more than pluck a single hair from nine oxen and give it to the fire victims and the poor — and in doing so, you acquired a name for virtue. Listen — was not the whole street just now buzzing with praise for the chivalrous deeds of the great hero Hei Feng Xi? What a masterstroke — fame and profit, all at once!”

“Ha ha —!” Feng Xi suddenly clapped his hands together and laughed aloud, carrying with it the proud hauteur of a man who has achieved exactly what he set out to achieve. “Woman — truly, in all this world, you understand me best of anyone.”

“Yes.” Fengxi settled back into her chair with listless disinterest. “You are clearly a cunning, treacherous, ruthless, selfish, cold-blooded, and heartless fox — yet why can the world not see through you? Why do they still sing your praises as a great and righteous hero of this age? What exactly are the eyes of ordinary people looking at?”

“I have never once claimed to be a good man or a man of honor — yet the world insists on believing I am a benevolent and righteous hero. It seems that Hei Feng Xi has a greater reputation for chivalry than Bai Fengxi.” Feng Xi continued to smile, but there was mockery threaded through it. “Would you say that reflects how well I have played my role — or how poorly the world reads people?”

“The people of Qucheng are singing your praises — and yet between wealth and saving lives, you chose the former! You could have saved those people from the flames, but instead you chose to move the gold and silver and left those trapped in the fire without so much as a hand extended in aid. How can you be so cold-blooded!” The voice was low and toneless. Fengxi sank back into the large chair, her head tilting backward, five fingers covering her eyes. “If I had known it would come to this, I should have killed Shangye last night.”

“When I could only choose one or the other, of course I chose what was to my advantage.” Feng Xi said with perfect composure, his expression undisturbed, entirely without remorse for what Fengxi had accused him of. “Besides — with the Shang family’s wealth, I can save hundreds of families. If I abandoned the wealth to save the people, I would have saved only a few dozen at most.”

“Calculated to perfection.” The fingertips pressed against Fengxi’s face trembled slightly. “How many things did you actually do last night?”

“Quite a number of things, as it happens.” Feng Xi shifted and sat down in the chair across from her, his gaze settling on her — appraising something, or calculating something. “Though I imagine you could work most of it out for yourself.”

“Since the Shang family’s assets all fell into your hands, the Qi family’s assets most certainly did not escape you either.” Fengxi’s voice carried an undercurrent of exhaustion.

Feng Xi smiled without a sound, the brightness of his gaze falling on Fengxi like light on a prey he held within his palm. “Yu Xuelian is a rare medicine that even a thousand in gold could not buy — yet when I gave it to detoxify your poison, I did not hesitate for even a moment. Now I understand. You truly cannot die. If you were gone, who else in this world would know me and understand me as you do? Without that, life would be far too bleak and tedious.”

“That the Shang and Qi families have lost their masters and fallen into disarray, with you hovering nearby to make your calculations — it does not surprise me that their assets would end up in your hands. Only their banks and shops stretch across the whole of Huaguo and Dong Chao, each with its own manager, and with no master now, those managers will certainly set themselves up as lords in their own right. Those establishments are the true wealth — how could you bear to let them go? Yet how could you possibly secure them?” A faint sardonic smile pulled at the corner of Fengxi’s mouth.

“Coercion and inducement — no person alive can escape them.” Feng Xi opened his left hand and curled his five fingers inward as though grasping something. “Everything belonging to the Shang and Qi families — all of it is in my grip.”

“Huaguo is the wealthiest kingdom, and its wealth lies in Qucheng. Qucheng is thrown into chaos — Huaguo will be shaken to its foundations.” Fengxi exhaled a deep sigh. “With Qiyi and Shang in your pocket, nearly half of Huaguo is in your pocket. This was your reason for coming to Huaguo from the beginning. Even knowing you as I do, you still somehow manage to bring a cold sweat out of me every time.”

“Huang Chao obtained the Xuanzun Order. I secured the wealth of half of Huaguo. Who do you think got the better end of it?” Feng Xi smiled serenely, with the unhurried ease of a sovereign.

“The jianghu, the feudal kingdoms — all of it you play with between your fingers. Who in this world could match such depth of mind and such precision of calculation?” Fengxi let out a cold and derisive hum.

Upon hearing this, Feng Xi rose from his seat, walked to stand before her, and leaned down close — so close that the warm breath from his nose brushed her face. He lifted away the hand she had laid over her eyes and looked directly into them.

“Woman — is your anger and your pain for the sake of Qiyi and Shangye… or for the sake of me?”

Fengxi’s eyes were as deep and vast as the sea — their bottom unseen, their surface still without a single ripple. Feng Xi’s gaze was bright and sharp as a blade, seeming to probe all the way to their depths, as though determined to find the answer. Their gazes locked and wound around each other, and a breathless silence fell over the room. Only Han Pu’s tense breathing could be heard.

After a long while, Fengxi rose to her feet, took the hand of Han Pu — who stood beside her not knowing what to do — and walked toward the door. Her hand pressed against it, and she looked back at Feng Xi once.

“You — unchanged in ten years!”

Xiao’er was packing away their belongings. Occasionally her gaze drifted toward Feng Qiwu, who sat frozen beside the table, face as cold as ever — yet a pair of eyes that betrayed far too many complex emotions.

“Miss Feng.” Xiao’er called out softly.

“Mm.” Feng Qiwu turned her head. For a brief moment she seemed to not know where she was, her expression lost.

Xiao’er saw this and felt a quiet sigh rise in her heart, yet her face remained smiling as always. “What were you thinking about, Miss Feng? You seemed so deep in thought.”

“Miss Fengxi.” Feng Qiwu admitted honestly, a faint furrow at her brow. “I have never seen a woman like that before.”

“Everything she says and does runs contrary to proper conduct, and she is even more recklessly unconstrained than any man.” Xiao’er said gently, watching Feng Qiwu with a smile. “Is that what you were thinking, Miss Feng?”

“Yes.” Feng Qiwu nodded, her gaze floating into the middle distance. “There is nothing proper or restrained about her whatsoever — yet watching her, one cannot help but feel genuine awe and admiration rising from the heart. Surely there is only one such woman in the entire world.”

“Xiao’er has been at Young Master’s side for five years and has not yet experienced her — but from the very first day, I already knew there was someone called Miss Xi. When I did come to meet Miss Xi, it was only on a handful of occasions. On each of those occasions, I saw her bickering and playing with Young Master — and after all these years, neither of them has changed in the slightest.” Xiao’er looked at Feng Qiwu as she spoke, a deeper meaning tucked beneath her words.

Feng Qiwu could not help but look at Xiao’er at that. She herself was a perceptive person, and along the journey she had come to know some of the people around Feng Xi. She said nothing, but she understood that each of them was far from ordinary. Even Xiao’er, Zhong Li, and Zhong Yuan, young as they appeared, each possessed remarkable abilities and an uncommon way of reading people and situations.

“Xiao’er, is there something you are trying to tell me?”

Xiao’er still only smiled, and with a shift of her eyes, turned the question back: “What do you think Young Master is like, Miss Feng?”

What was he like?

Feng Qiwu was silent for a while before she replied: “I cannot see him clearly.”

It was true. Several months in his company, and she still did not know what kind of person he truly was. Though he moved through the jianghu, he was accompanied by a great many attendants, and his bearing and manner were courtly and refined, his food and lodgings and manner of travel all attended to with exceptional elegance — more fastidious than any lord or noble. Whatever situation arose, he met it without losing his composed tranquility. Though he was right there before her eyes, she could not know his thoughts or intentions. His depths were unfathomable — like the pitch-darkness of night, vast and all-encompassing, containing the whole of heaven and earth, allowing not even the faintest glimpse inside.

“What is unclear cannot be thought through clearly either, so there is no need for you to think too much, Miss Feng. Young Master has invited you to travel with him, which means he will certainly treat you well.” Xiao’er helped her to her feet. “The things are all packed — the carriage should be waiting outside the inn by now. Let us go.”

The two walked out the door, only to see the door of Feng Xi’s room burst open with a crash, and Fengxi and Han Pu step out.

In the moment their eyes met, Feng Qiwu caught it — deep within the eyes of that free and wind-like woman, a flicker of disappointment and desolation. But when she looked again, those eyes were already brimming with bright and cheerful laughter, making one wonder if one had simply imagined that look a moment ago. Feng Qiwu’s gaze swept past Fengxi to the room beyond — Feng Xi inside wore a flat, calm expression, only his eyes lowered slightly, the ink-dark depths of those eyes veiled beneath.

“My beauty Feng!” Fengxi called out cheerfully to the graceful woman standing before her — like a branch of winter plum in the snow, cold and proud, clear and striking.

“Miss Fengxi.” Feng Qiwu gave a slight nod in greeting.

“Alas — the moment I see that face of yours, even a belly full of anger simply vanishes without a trace.” Fengxi reached out her left hand to take Feng Qiwu’s, and with her right lightly tipped up Feng Qiwu’s chin, roguish as a young rake from the noble families strolling the pleasure quarters. “Qiwu, you would be far better off not following that fox around. Stay by my side — that way I can look at you every single day.”

“Ha ha — Miss Fengxi, the way you say that makes anyone hearing it think you are a man.” Xiao’er actually laughed out loud.

“You cheeky little girl.” Fengxi released Feng Qiwu and shot out a hand — her fingertip flicked Xiao’er squarely on the forehead. “If I were a man, I would marry both of you and take you home. One incomparably beautiful, the other with a perfect dimpled smile — what a splendid arrangement that would be!”

“Ha ha — I really cannot imagine what Miss Fengxi would be like as a man!” Xiao’er laughed all the more brightly, and even Feng Qiwu could not suppress a small smile at the corner of her lips.

“If I were a man, I would naturally be a gallant and refined gentleman of the highest character, talent, and appearance in all the world!” Fengxi declared without a shred of false modesty.

“In that case, Miss Fengxi, if you were a man, Xiao’er would most certainly want to marry you.” Xiao’er said with a laugh as she spoke, then took Feng Qiwu by the arm and walked toward the inn entrance.

“Alas — to think that the heavens saw fit to make me a woman, and leave such fine young ladies without their ideal companion!” Fengxi lamented with a long, drawn-out sigh, and her expression grew positively mournful.

“That the heavens produced a woman like you — now that is a shame indeed!” From behind her, Han Pu doused the moment with a bucket of cold water without warning. This Elder Sister of his — could she not behave even slightly more normally, just once?

“Pu… er…” Fengxi turned around and called his name in a long, soft, drawn-out tone.

“Miss Feng, let me help you downstairs.” Han Pu, at the sight of that, instantly made himself scarce — he dashed to Feng Qiwu’s side and attended on her with enthusiastic care.

“Learning to read the wind and adjust your sails — he picked that up quickly enough.” Fengxi muttered to herself as she descended the stairs behind them.

“A shame indeed!” Another cold snort from behind her.

Fengxi looked back and glanced at Feng Xi, then her gaze fell on the two carriages waiting outside. At once a bright smile broke across her face.

“Zhong Li, Zhong Yuan — you two ride with that black fox and Brother Yan. This carriage is mine and my beauty Feng’s.”

Fengxi stepped forward, gave a light hop, and leapt up into the carriage. She then helped Feng Qiwu, Xiao’er, and Han Pu up after her, shut the carriage door, and left Zhong Li and Zhong Yuan standing bewildered below.

“Young Master.” Zhong Li and Zhong Yuan turned to look at Feng Xi.

Feng Xi looked at the second carriage — the one that would have been considered rather fine by most people’s standards — and his brow furrowed ever so slightly. “Bring my horse. You two take the carriage.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

Mid-third month — the season when the singing stages rang warm with music and spring light glowed soft and golden.

At dawn, the faintly cool spring breeze swept open the thin mist like gauze, lightly touched the morning dew that clung and trembled on the verge of falling, curled up a thread of the night’s lingering fragrance from the yellow flowers, then drew along a line of golden-red morning light — brushing past the waterside pavilion, winding around the long corridor, it slipped with light, unhurried ease into that palace of jade-green tiles and glazed glass, and kissed awake the beauty sleeping soundly behind her pink bed-curtains.

The light gauze curtains were drawn aside, the sleeping beauty — pale as a crabapple in bloom — was helped upright. The purple gauze robe was draped upon her shoulders. The green water-chestnut mirror was brought close. Pure spring water was cupped in gentle palms, and a face of kingdom-toppling beauty was bathed. The jade-green comb was lifted, and misty, cloud-like hair was gathered and pinned up. A gold step-swaying hairpin was set in place, coral ornaments were added. The moth-like brows were brushed with a light touch of color, a faint blush of rouge was dabbed on. Her radiance surpassed the morning clouds; her beauty outshone a hundred flowers. One look from her could capture any heart; even the moon would lower its face in shame.

“There is no one in the world who could be born more beautiful than our Princess!”

Every day within the Luo Hua Palace, such praises rang out — and anyone within the palace who heard them knew immediately that these words came from Ling’er, the palace maid who attended Princess Chunran.

Hua Chunran looked at that incomparable face in the bronze mirror and pressed her lips together in a quiet smile, then gave a small wave of her hand to dismiss the palace attendants who had been dressing her.

She moved out of the hall. The morning sun was just threading through the thin mist, casting a gentle golden light. The morning breeze passed by, and the hundred flowers nodded their heads.

“Your Highness, shall we go to the Jinsheng Palace to take morning meal with the King?” Ling’er asked from behind her.

“No need. Have the meal prepared at Xiaoyan Pavilion. I will go to Ming Se Garden first — that stalk of Moxue peony began to bud yesterday. It may have opened today.” Hua Chunran stepped across the vermilion stairs, dampened by the morning mist, and turned to give her instructions to Ling’er behind her. “None of you need to follow. Go about your tasks.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Ling’er and the palace attendants withdrew.

Ming Se Garden was a garden the King of Huaguo had created exclusively for his beloved daughter, Princess Chunran. Unlike any other garden, this one grew only peonies — a collection of the finest and rarest varieties in the world. There was not a second like it anywhere in all of Dong Chao. And ordinarily, aside from the palace attendants responsible for cultivating and tending the flowers, no one was permitted to enter the garden without the Princess’s leave.

In mid-third month, the peonies were in full bloom. The garden was filled with peonies of every color — red, white, yellow, purple — and all manner of other hues. To walk among them was to feel oneself transported into the very kingdom of flowers. The fragrance enveloped and pervaded, seeping into one’s very senses and lingering on one’s clothing.

Hua Chunran wound her way around cluster after cluster of blossoming flowers and arrived at a small flower bed in the center of the garden. Within the bed grew a single peony.

“It really did open!”

At the sight of that peony in full bloom, Hua Chunran could not help but smile.

This one peony was unlike any other in the garden. Its stems stood tall and straight, rising to a height of about three chi. At the top, a single bloom had opened — approximately the size of a bowl, its petals the color of deep, lustrous ink, its stamens as white as snow, dusted with scattered points of golden yellow. It was truly extraordinary.

“Moxue — as dark as ink, as pale as snow!” The murmured words passed her lips softly. Hua Chunran reached out and gently touched the petals — so lightly, as though afraid to shatter them — no more than a graze of her fingertip. She tilted her head forward slightly and breathed in the faint, clean fragrance.

“Truly, such beauties still exist in this world!”

A clear, unblemished voice rang out suddenly, like a call to wake the peony blooms throughout the garden that were still drowsily drooping their heads, their sleepiness not yet dispelled. It also startled Hua Chunran, who had been absorbed in the flowers — she lifted her head and looked around. The flowers extended like a sea. Not a single person was in sight.

“They say that the peony is the sovereign beauty of all flowers and the finest fragrance under heaven — yet I think this beauty before us surpasses even the king of flowers.”

The voice rang out again, carrying within it a tone of genuine wonder.

Hua Chunran followed the sound and looked. There, atop the high rooftop above, sat a black-robed man and a white-robed woman. The morning sun scattered countless points of light behind them, dispersing the thin wisps of mist — yet still there were fine, lingering threads that seemed reluctant to leave the two of them, wreathing around them, softening the contours of their faces. In that moment, Hua Chunran felt as though she were looking upon the shadow of celestial beings glimpsed within an illusion.

“Black Fox — do you think what the books call ‘fish sink, geese descend, the moon hides, flowers blush’ is describing this beauty before us right now?” Fengxi stretched out her foot and gave Feng Xi beside her a nudge.

“‘What is spoken of as beauty: the face of flowers, the voice of birds, the spirit of the moon, the bearing of the willow, the bones of jade, the skin of ice and snow, the grace of autumn waters, and the heart of poetry and song’ — this lady before us embodies all of it beyond question.” Feng Xi nodded in heartfelt agreement, then added one final remark: “You truly ought to take a lesson from her.”

This was the first time Hua Chunran laid eyes on Baifeng Heixi. Many years later, when Hua Chunran had grown old, and the face looking back at her in the bronze mirror was etched with lines — she would still be able to think back on this day with a gentle smile and a light heart: this slightly cool morning, perfumed with flowers and filled with wonder.

“Have the two of you descended from the Heavenly Court, or been blown here from some distant realm by the wind?” Hua Chunran asked with easy composure and a smile, addressing these visitors who had come from nowhere. Whatever the origin of these two, this morning had already turned out to be quite wonderfully strange and interesting.

“Ha ha —” Fengxi could not help but laugh out loud at that. “My dear beauty, are you not even the slightest bit frightened? Are you not afraid we might be thieves, come to rob you of treasure and beauty both?”

“If every such thief were as remarkably distinguished in appearance and bearing as the two of you, then Chunran would very much like to try being a thief herself.” Hua Chunran replied, still utterly unruffled.

“Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!” Fengxi applauded with delight. “Not only incomparable in beauty, but remarkable in wit as well! What a charming person — the title of the most beautiful woman in all of Dong Chao is yours without a single doubt!”

The morning mist had at last yielded to the morning sun and slipped quietly away. The two figures on the rooftop were too distant for their faces to be seen clearly — but the two crescent ornaments at their brows, one black and one white, could be seen with perfect clarity, catching the sunlight and shimmering with a brilliant, dazzling radiance.

“If Chunran is not mistaken — the young lady must be the woman of unparalleled renown in the jianghu, the extraordinary Miss Bai Fengxi.” Hua Chunran kept her gaze fixed upon those two glowing crescent moons as she spoke, without hurrying. “And this gentleman beside her must be the one equally celebrated as her match in fame — Young Master Hei Feng Xi.”

“Ha ha — even in the deep palace, there are people this interesting? Having had the fortune to meet you, this journey has not been made in vain.”

Fengxi laughed openly and freely, and her figure took to the air — effortless and graceful as a white crane spreading its wings — and landed lightly before Hua Chunran. From left to right, from head to toe, she looked Hua Chunran over once more with careful attention. The beauty stood holding a flower, her eyes like limpid autumn water, her face like a blooming peach blossom, her height perfectly proportioned, her every movement and gesture natural and alive — truly, no second like her had ever graced her eyes.

“What a beautiful face!” Fengxi looked and looked and simply could not restrain herself — her hand moved of its own accord and touched the beauty’s cheek. “I want to keep this face tucked in my sleeve so I may look at it morning and night.”

“They say men are fond of beauty — yet no one knows that some women are even more so.” Feng Xi shook his head and sighed at Fengxi’s lack of decorum, then with a sweep of his figure, moved as though along an invisible bridge through the air and descended with composed ease.

“Black Fox, do not disturb me while I admire the beauty!” Fengxi waved a hand behind her as though swatting away a fly, while the other remained on the beauty’s cheek. She shook her head back and forth in happy contemplation, murmuring to herself: “I have not eaten a single bite all night and was already famished — yet the moment I laid eyes on you, I have lost all desire for even my most beloved meals and sleep. This must be what the books call ‘beauty so fine it serves as nourishment’!”

Hua Chunran simply allowed Fengxi to do as she pleased, standing with serene stillness and receiving it all with a quiet smile.

“Alas! Why was I not born a man? If I had been, I could simply take all these beauties home with me!” Finally, Fengxi reluctantly withdrew her roving hands.

“White robes and snow-moon at the brow — transcendent beauty beyond compare! Words and conduct without restraint, free and unbridled as the wind! Black robes and ink-dark crescent moon — handsome and refined beyond measure! Dignified grace and noble bearing, matchless among lords and kings! Baifeng Heixi are truly extraordinary. Chunran offers her respects.” Hua Chunran bowed gracefully.

“Oh my! That the princess of an entire kingdom would bow to the likes of us mere commoners — that is far too great an honor to bear!” Fengxi immediately leapt to the side and stepped behind Feng Xi. She raised her foot and aimed a kick at the back of his knee. “Black Fox — just bow a couple of times to the Princess on behalf of us both to return the courtesy!”

“Xi pays his respects to the Princess.” There was no visible movement from Feng Xi — yet somehow his figure had shifted aside just enough to let the kick pass behind him, and he bowed with natural ease, composed and gracious, his bearing elegant and pleasing.

“Baifeng Heixi — known through the ages for their elusive movements, admired by all yet rarely seen. I wonder by what fortune I have been granted the rare blessing of your presence today?” Hua Chunran looked at the two of them — white robes and black — plain and unadorned, yet somehow outshining the brilliance of every peony in the garden.

“I simply came to see you, beautiful Hua.” Fengxi’s gaze was drawn to that stalk of Moxue peony, and she drifted toward it unbidden. Her hand gestured back toward the figure behind her. “This black fox had another reason for coming to find you.”

“Oh?” Hua Chunran could not help but look toward Feng Xi at that. Their eyes met, and her heart gave a quiet jump. She had encountered no end of lords and noble young masters, yet not one had ever carried about him such an air of distinguished refinement as this man — standing amid the garden with an unhurried smile, at perfect ease, as though he were in his own courtyard.

Feng Xi shifted two steps toward her, drew the pink silk handkerchief from his sleeve, and asked with warm, courteous composure: “Has Your Highness ever seen this object before?”

“This?” Hua Chunran took the handkerchief and could not help her look of surprise. “This is my handkerchief — I have not seen it in a long time. I wonder how it came to be in your possession, Young Master?”

“Oh? This truly belongs to the Princess?” Feng Xi asked back in a quiet, mild tone, his eyes gentle.

“Of course!” Hua Chunran examined the handkerchief closely, pointing to the embroidered pattern on it. “I embroidered this myself — I know it well.”

“So the Qiongqiong and Juxu on it were embroidered by the Princess.” Feng Xi wore the expression of someone to whom something has just become clear.

“Young Master also knows these are the Qiongqiong and Juxu?” Hua Chunran’s heart stirred at hearing this. These were mythical creatures from ancient legend — not only would few people recognize them, even fewer would have ever heard of them. She had not expected that he would also know…

“Ha ha — my dear beauty Hua, do you know how this handkerchief came to be in his hands?” Fengxi suddenly cut in, all the while circling the peony and peering at it from left and right.

“Chunran was just wondering the same — might Miss Fengxi solve this mystery for me?” Hua Chunran turned to ask, only to see Bai Fengxi with her face drawn up to within three inches of the flower, her fingers already busy picking through the stamens, apparently intent on counting them one by one.

“Ha ha — I know, of course I know!” Fengxi laughed and lifted her head, glancing back with a look of mischief in her eyes. “It was the wind — it blew and blew and blew this handkerchief all the way to the shore of Changli Lake a thousand li away, and then it descended from the heavens and fell right into the hands of this black fox.”

“Ha ha — Miss Fengxi truly does love to joke!” Hua Chunran raised her sleeve to cover her smile and laughed softly, her head dipping slightly, her manner graceful and captivating, her eyes as they swept around her flowing with gentle warmth, shimmering and luminous — enough to entrance any soul.

“Alas — one smile from a beauty, and a city falls, and then a kingdom.” Fengxi heaved a long, heartfelt sigh. She gave a wave of her hand, and a breath of wind swept through — in an instant, every peony in the garden swayed and danced. “Even these peonies, so renowned as the sovereign beauty, bow before you.”

“Ha ha — if I could be in Miss Fengxi’s company, Chunran would laugh for the rest of her life!” Hua Chunran laughed again, her laughter bright and clear and full. From childhood, she had been celebrated for her beauty and had heard no end of flattery — yet these few offhand words from Bai Fengxi left her feeling, from the heart to the very bones, lighter and more joyful than she ever had before.

“That would not do — what if you were too busy laughing to eat? If you went hungry, my heart would ache.” Fengxi shook her head and rubbed her stomach. “Besides, I am very much a mortal creature. The five grains must sustain this mortal body of mine.”

“Since the wind carried my handkerchief to the two of you, and then carried the two of you here before me, this too is a rare and wondrous bond. Let Chunran make some small gesture as your host and offer you a meal — what do you say?” Hua Chunran said, her laughter subsiding.

“Wonderful!” Fengxi clapped her hands with delight. “I was already hoping you would invite me to eat!”

“Will Young Master Feng do us the honor?” Hua Chunran turned to ask Feng Xi, who was still contemplating the black peony nearby.

“This peony appears to be a new variety you cultivated with great care, Your Highness.” Feng Xi rested his hand lightly on the petals and gave a quiet sigh. “As dark as ink, as pale as snow — truly extraordinary. Only it is not suited to this peony garden.”

“Oh — why not?” Hua Chunran looked at him, and found herself suddenly struck by a feeling that the man before her was very much like that flower.

“A flower like this — it should either stand apart from the world in solitary splendor, or bloom in proud defiance, filling the world with its magnificence.” Feng Xi turned, and his dark eyes were like the depths of night.

Hua Chunran’s heart gave a sudden, violent leap at those words. The sound of it rang in her eardrums, echoing for a long while. She gazed at Feng Xi, and for a long moment could not find a single word to say.

“Excuse me — you two! Food is more important than all of this!”

Fengxi’s voice rang in their ears. They turned to look — and there she was, leaping among the flowers, white robes billowing, long hair streaming loose, the tips of her feet grazing blossoms as she passed — yet every flower remained as it was, unbroken and unbent, not a single petal lost or bruised. From her lips came a quiet, half-hummed melody of some unknown song:

“When the spring wind comes softly by, and the willows are full of tender feeling, I come treading the flowers — only to see the smile upon your face, my dear…”