Zhao Yān soaked in the pool, her neck and cheeks flushed with a light red from the hot bath. Her wet hair, clinging in graceful curves, added a touch of delicate allure like a lotus emerging from water.

Would the dignified Prince Su need a sachet or two? They weren’t even valuable items.

Zhao Yān tried to discern whether Wenren Lin was serious or merely making a sarcastic joke. However, his face was hidden in the shadows behind the hanging veil, revealing nothing.

After Wenren Lin left, Zhao Yān climbed out of the pool with a dizzy head, changed out of her undergarments that had become transparent from being soaked, and raised her hand to wring the water from her hair.

After a while, she lay back on the small couch, touching her numb, painful lips with a light moan.

Suddenly, a loud bang came from not far away, followed by the sound of bottles and jars toppling and shattering, particularly clear in the silent night.

A lantern swayed outside the door, approaching, followed by Li Fu’s voice: “Your Highness, I think the noise came from Liu Ji’s room.”

Zhao Yān’s heart suddenly raced. She hurriedly took a jade hairpin to put up her wet hair, threw on her clothes, and quickly opened the door.

Liu Ying also rushed over from Guanyun Hall. Together, they carried lanterns to Tingyu Pavilion, where Liu Ji was staying.

At Zhao Yān’s signal, Li Fu raised his hand to knock on the door, then spoke louder, “Lady Liu Ji?”

…

…

When there was no response for a long time, Zhao Yān became anxious.

She quickly ascended the stone steps and raised her hand to force the door open when a faint response finally came from inside: “Wait… ouch! It’s not convenient right now; I’m not properly dressed.”

After more rustling sounds, estimating that enough time had passed, Zhao Yān forcefully pushed the door open.

The room was in disarray. The floor tiles were wet, the hanging curtains had fallen, the flower stands had toppled, and the vases had shattered all over the floor. Liu Ji lay among the fragments with disheveled hair, her wide-sleeved robe stained with dirt, grimacing as she held her forehead.

Li Fu straightened the flower stand, then rushed outside to fetch a broom and dustpan. He carefully and efficiently swept up all the ceramic shards, meticulously feeling along the floor cracks with his hands to ensure no fragments remained before allowing his master to enter.

Zhao Yān gave instructions to Liu Ying, then crouched down to remove Liu Ji’s concealing hand. She frowned at the red swelling with broken skin on Liu Ji’s temple, asking, “How did this happen?”

“I had just returned from bathing and was about to arrange the flowers in a vase. I wasn’t careful; the floor was slippery, and I fell.”

Liu Ji looked extremely dejected. With pale lips pressed together, she said, “I hit my head on the flower stand. Not only is my foot sprained, but the flowers Your Highness gave me are also scattered.”

Zhao Yān instructed two palace maids to help Liu Ji to the couch. She bent down and lifted Liu Ji’s skirt hem slightly, finding her ankle indeed somewhat swollen.

She examined it carefully, completely unaware that Liu Ji’s gaze had fallen on the broken skin of her lower lip. Liu Ji asked, “How did Your Highness injure your mouth?”

“It’s nothing; I also accidentally bumped it in the bath.”

Zhao Yān pressed her lips together, trying to change the subject. “When you returned, was there anyone else in the room?”

Liu Ji’s attention was indeed diverted. After thinking for a moment, she shook her head, holding her throbbing forehead. “There shouldn’t have been. I never allow others to help me change clothes. I was hoping to use this opportunity to be frank with Your Highness… Now with this foot, forget about bathing in the hot spring together; I probably can’t even touch water for several days.”

As she spoke, she turned her head away, saying with embarrassment, “Your Highness should leave quickly; I look too disheveled and useless.”

Zhao Yān waited until Imperial Physician Zhang arrived to provide treatment. After confirming that Liu Ji had only suffered some superficial injuries, she assigned two diligent palace attendants to stay and care for her before leaving with peace of mind.

“The moonlight is beautiful tonight.”

Wenren Lin’s whisper involuntarily floated into her ears again. “Killing those who get in the way would surely be satisfying.”

Wenren Lin left, and Liu Ji was injured—was it truly just a coincidence?

Zhao Yān didn’t want to overthink it, yet found it difficult not to.

The night mountain breeze passed through the corridor. Water droplets from the end of her hair bun fell onto her neck. Zhao Yān shivered inexplicably, suddenly feeling a chill.

Upon returning to Guanyun Hall, Gu Xing was already waiting in the corridor.

“This servant will fetch some ointment for Your Highness’s lips.”

Liu Ying bowed and withdrew considerately, taking the attendants of Guanyun Hall with her.

“Your Highness, another young girl and a boy went missing in the city today.”

Gu Xing was concise, presenting the intelligence he had gathered. “Earlier, I saw Prince Su’s carriage hurriedly descending the mountain, presumably for this matter. Fearing Prince Su might notice, this humble servant dared not follow too closely.”

Zhao Yān took the report and, after thinking for a moment, asked, “Did Prince Su go directly down the mountain without stopping at Yuquan Palace?”

Gu Xing replied, “This humble servant kept watch from a distance and did not observe anything unusual.”

Could it be that she had overthought, and Liu Ji’s fall was merely an accident?

No, matters of life and death warranted caution.

Zhao Yān suppressed her doubts and unfolded the intelligence report containing information about the missing persons. Her pupils contracted slightly.

[Liu Xiaomei, age twelve, father a basket weaver, mother seriously ill. At the Hour of the Dragon (7-9 AM) on the fifth day of the fifth month, she entered the market to sell flowers. She disappeared by the end of the Hour of the Rooster (5-7 PM) at the Dragon Water Canal.

Hu Aman, age three, father Hu Jingde, an official at the Court of Judicial Review. Disappeared from his family’s backyard at the Hour of the Monkey (3-5 PM) on the fifth day of the fifth month.]

“Liu Xiaomei…” Zhao Yān recognized her.

She instinctively glanced at the willow basket placed on the wooden rack, recalling the clever, sensible, poor young girl she had met that afternoon by Yunxiao Bridge.

The young girl’s clothes had been so clean; she must have been a good child loved by her parents. Now, suddenly disappeared, her parents must be frantic with worry, plunged into an abyss of endless suffering.

Zhao Yān’s fingers unconsciously tightened, creasing the paper.

Too slow… The Eastern Palace lacked sufficient power. Even with Gu Xing investigating day and night, it was still too slow.

Each day of delay meant more innocent people would meet with disaster.

With this in mind, Zhao Yān calmed herself. She quickly walked to the wooden rack, took down the flower basket, and held it in her arms, pondering.

Whether for her brother’s cause of death or these abducted children in the city, she needed to personally visit Wenren Lin.

Zhao Yān took out the only remaining peach-colored sachet and examined it carefully for a while…

Forget it, better to choose something else.

She feared that with such an unbearably vulgar color, Wenren Lin might gently throw both the sachet and her out the door for a lavish burial.

…

Jin Yun Manor.

Torches danced on the wall of the secret chamber, resembling eerie ghost fires, illuminating the pitch-black mouth of a cave.

“Useless thing!”

Zhao Yuan’yu picked up an inkstone and hurled it viciously at the silent, fierce man.

On the wall, the extremely tall and thin shadow of the man remained motionless. The inkstone bounced off his head and clattered to the ground. Blood flowed from the corner of the man’s forehead, but he didn’t even blink—not even his eyelashes moved. He was like stagnant water, a stone statue.

“I told you to capture young children, and you, stupid dog, went to grab one from an imperial official’s family! With such good skills, why didn’t you kill Zhao Yǎn for me?”

The commotion was now too great. Zhao Yuan’yu grew increasingly angry as he spoke, picking up an iron chain used for binding people and lashing it at the man. However, he misjudged his strength and was tripped by the weight.

“Now is not the time for anger.”

The female Daoist priestess Chun Niang emerged from the secret chamber with her feather duster, coldly advising, “We’ve already alerted our enemies. This place is no longer suitable for staying in. Young Master, you might as well cut your losses and flee, cleaning up your tracks early.”

“You mean you want this young master to run? The day for refining the medicine is just a few days away. Where would I go?”

Zhao Yuan’yu’s face was covered in cold sweat, his effeminate features full of malice. “I finally captured so many children; all this young master’s hopes are riding on this!”

“Master, please mind your words.”

Upon hearing the word “children,” Chun Niang coldly emphasized.

How could Daoists kill people to make elixirs? Therefore, those children should not be called “people,” but rather “young chickens.”

Realizing he had violated a taboo, Zhao Yuan’yu immediately backed down, panting heavily as he said, “I know, I know.”

…

After breakfast, Zhao Yān put on her veiled hat and boarded the carriage heading down the mountain.

She had Gu Xing investigate thoroughly; Wenren Lin had been staying these days at the Western Mountain Villa on North Yining Street, an hour’s carriage ride from Yuquan Palace.

As the carriage swayed, dappled bright shadows of trees continuously passed over the curtains. The hanging veil on Zhao Yān’s hat also swayed gently. Beneath her disguise of male attire was her beautiful face with light makeup.

On her lap rested a folding fan she had personally painted throughout an entire night.

Zhao Yān had pondered for a long time. The Dragon Boat Festival had passed yesterday, so giving a sachet was missed the best timing. A fragrance pouch seemed too intimate, and besides, she had never learned needlework since childhood and couldn’t embroider patterns. As for jade—that was even less necessary…

Wenren Lin still wore those warm jade pieces that made her blush.

In the Great Xuan, there was a tradition of emperors gifting fans to ministers in summer. Recalling that the folding fan Wenren Lin held yesterday had no inscriptions or paintings, just a plain white surface, Zhao Yān had an idea.

It was merely an excuse to see him and test the waters; whether Wenren Lin liked it or not wasn’t so important.

With this thought, Zhao Yān felt somewhat reassured. She took the fan case that Liu Ying handed her, placed the fan inside, and held it in her hand.

When they arrived at the villa, it was noon. Wenren Lin had gone out on business and had not yet returned.

The one who opened the door was another deputy commander of the prince’s mansion. Zhao Yān recognized that rugged face; he seemed to be called Zhang Cang.

Zhang Cang knew the relationship between the little Crown Prince and his master, and of course didn’t dare to let such a delicate figure stand in the blazing sun. He rubbed his hands together and invited her into the hall to rest, eagerly serving tea and water.

The sound of messenger pigeons flapping their wings came continuously from the eaves. Zhang Cang watched over Zhao Yān while constantly glancing outside.

Zhao Yān understood perfectly. She put down the cold tea and said, “Deputy Zhang, please attend to your affairs. May I ask if there’s a place for reading and leisure in the villa? I’ll go choose a couple of books to read while waiting for the Grand Tutor’s return.”

Zhang Cang said, “There’s a small study. Please follow this humble servant.”

The prince was cautious in his affairs. Any confidential letters were either promptly burned or the relevant files were kept in Prince Su’s mansion or Hegui Pavilion. This villa was very clean, and he wasn’t worried about revealing any important secrets.

The fragments that remained were all harmless things.

Nevertheless, Zhao Yān still found some scattered clues about the disappearance cases—not because she deliberately searched, but because this small booklet was pressed under a local gazetteer of the metropolitan area on the desk.

The booklet separately recorded all the missing children and young girls, far more numerous than Zhao Yān had discovered. More than seventy cases had been reported to the authorities, not to mention orphans without parents and beggar children among the refugees.

After the long list of missing persons was information about the deed purchaser of Jin Yun Manor. Zhao Yān’s eyes darkened. She removed her veiled hat that was in the way, placed it on the desk, and continued turning the pages…

A familiar shadow extended from behind, enveloping her. A slender, large hand reached past her ear and gently took away the case file that Zhao Yān was reading intently.

Zhao Yān turned to see Wenren Lin and was startled.

But she quickly calmed down—what she had been reading wasn’t anything confidential, and if it had been…

“If it were confidential, Your Highness would already be dead.”

Wenren Lin, as if seeing through her thoughts, tapped the booklet in his palm. His crimson formal sleeves spread before Zhao Yān’s eyes like the deepest blood color.

“…”

Zhao Yān composed herself and casually changed the subject, “I came this time because I have something I wish to gift to Prince Su.”

With that, she took out the fan she had prepared earlier and handed it to Wenren Lin.

Wenren Lin’s gaze fixed for a moment. He sat in a round-backed chair and opened the fan, looking at the painted snow-covered mountains and solitary moon on it, slightly raising his eyebrows: “Just this?”

What else?

Zhao Yān asked with confusion, “I just felt that the imagery of snow and the solitary moon somewhat resembles Prince Su.”

Equally unfathomable as the night, equally piercing as ice and snow when approached.

“I thought Your Highness had studied the illustrations of *The Classic of the Dark Lady* for so long and must have gained considerable insights.”

“?”

“Never mind.”

Wenren Lin reluctantly closed the fan. Seeing Zhao Yān’s flushed ears as she held back, his mood improved slightly.

He closed the folding fan with one hand and stared at the blue-gray tassel pendant for a long while, finally removing it and replacing it with the warm jade pendant from his fan.

“Come here,” Wenren Lin said languidly, stroking the warm jade and looking up at Zhao Yān.

Zhao Yān hesitated for a moment, then stood up and came before him.

Though Wenren Lin was sitting, his aura was not diminished in the slightest. His long-jointed hand held the fan with its snow mountain and solitary moon, giving him an air of refined elegance.

“Your fake concubine said one thing correctly: this prince is a ruthless person. Your Highness would do well to stay away from this prince.”

He slowly raised his hand, his fingertip hovering in the air to point at the tear mole at the corner of her eye, and said softly, “Considering Your Highness is rather pleasing at coaxing people, here’s a piece of advice: this case is not one you can meddle with. If you want to live, don’t get involved. Understand?”

Zhao Yān’s eyelashes trembled uncontrollably, like feathers.

Wenren Lin gave a low laugh, his fingertip moving downward, slowly brushing across her lower lip, which had been deliberately applied with a thin layer of rouge.

Zhao Yān saw his cold, white fingertip stained with a light crimson color.

In the next moment, he flicked open the folding fan and pressed the rouge he had collected from her lips onto the blank full moon on the fan’s surface, twirling it in a circle.

The cold, clear snow moon became a bewitching blood moon.