The night wind carried the ashen scent of burnt offerings from an unknown source. On the distant river, a few lotus lanterns drifted slowly. In the nearby alleys, the Ullambana Festival rituals were still ongoing. Monks, invited from the temple by residents, continued their small ceremonies. The clamor from across the street contrasted sharply with the eerie quiet of the downstream riverbank.
Although only three streets from the Grand Xiangguo Temple, this area was sparsely populated. Many households had left to attend the Ullambana ceremony, leaving the surroundings silent.
In the darkness, several shadowy figures swiftly darted past, soundlessly slipping into a nearby house like specters. As the clash of metal and the sounds of fighting erupted, the distant chanting of monks reached its crescendo. The harmonious blend of chimes, bells, and wooden fish created an otherworldly ambiance.
Before the Buddhist chant ended, the commotion in the house gradually subsided. Suddenly, the front door burst open. Several men in tight-fitting clothes emerged, surrounding a disheveled and terrified woman as they hastily escaped.
They hadn’t gone far when one pulled out a signal arrow from his waist. A bright silver streak shot into the sky with a whistle, bursting open with a “pop” like falling stars.
The seven-tiered meditation platform towered high, unobstructed on all sides. Lu Chang, seated atop it, could survey all of Bianjing City without even standing up. Though the firework in the sky vanished in an instant, too quick for most to notice, he caught sight of it immediately. It was the signal he had been waiting for all day, bringing good news.
Despite the inky darkness of the night sky, Lu Chang felt as if he could see the moon peeking through parting clouds. With Zhou Xiuqing found, the case of the Jian family would become clearer. Whether the true culprit was Gao Shicai or someone else, answers were now within reach.
He had been planning for this moment for days.
Today, he had an agreement with Tang Li: once the “Third Prince” completed all the rituals on the meditation platform, Zhou Xiuqing would be returned to him. Previously, Tang Li had only instructed him to have people wait outside the side gate of the Grand Xiangguo Temple at an incense shop. After the deed was done, someone would hand Zhou Xiuqing over to them.
Naturally, Lu Chang trusted Tang Li, but he had his plans. While Wei Zhuo’s men waited at the incense shop, he had secretly arranged for another team to rescue Zhou Xiuqing. These men had been closely monitoring Tang Li and his associates’ movements ever since Lu Chang began frequent interactions with Tang Li.
No matter how meticulous Tang Li was in relaying orders to Zhou Xiuqing’s guards, there would always be traces to follow. For Lu Chang, the sooner he discovered these clues, the better. This led to his plan to act with Ming Shu, pretending to lose composure due to concern for Ming Shu’s safety. The sooner he convinced Tang Li of this, the quicker Tang Li would reveal his intentions, allowing Lu Chang to investigate.
In truth, worry for Ming Shu’s safety had indeed thrown him into a state of paranoia, but thankfully, Ming Shu…
“Brother…” A faint call came from below, seemingly close by.
Lu Chang furrowed his brow, gazing into the vast darkness. After a moment, he chuckled—had he gone mad? How could Ming Shu be here?
Yet, after sitting on the meditation platform all day, his mind had begun to wander.
Buddhist music swelled from below the platform, drowning out the faint voice. The monks seated below stood up with lotus lanterns, circling the platform. Lu Chang rose as well. According to the ritual, this step marked the end. He needed to walk to the four sides of the platform, bowing to pay respects to the deities of all directions. After completing the bows, he would descend.
It was in this final step that Tang Li set a trap for the “Third Prince.”
Lu Chang stood in the center of the platform, focusing his attention on its surroundings. To strike while the “Third Prince” was still on the platform, there were only a few possibilities. Assassination by bow and arrow seemed unlikely, given the platform’s height of about ten zhang, towering above nearby buildings and leaving no hiding spots for snipers. Another option was for assassins to strike as he descended, but with imperial guards surrounding the area, he would be protected as soon as he stepped off the platform, making this approach improbable. The most likely scenario, then, was that the platform itself had been tampered with, risking collapse. This could easily be disguised as an accidental fall.
A fall from such a height would result in death or, at the very least, severe injury.
Pondering this, Lu Chang took a step towards the eastern side.
Before he could reach the eastern position, that calling voice rose again, more urgent now. Lu Chang halted, looking towards the wooden stairs leading up to the platform.
“Brother, you need to… move outward!” Ming Shu called, out of breath from climbing the seven floors of stairs. She had to pause every few steps, leaning on the railing to catch her breath before continuing upward.
The wooden stairs wound around the platform, extremely narrow with only space on one side and a simple wooden railing on the other. Prayer flags tied to the railing obscured the stairs from outside view. In the darkness, no one had noticed Ming Shu ascending.
With the ritual nearing its end, Ming Shu couldn’t wait for the Third Prince to arrange for someone to climb up. Moreover, having someone impersonate the Third Prince on the platform bordered on treason, and she didn’t want to involve more people. So she decided to climb up herself.
The platform had been built under the supervision of the Ministry of Works, and Liu Wan’er had infiltrated the home of Lu, the Minister of Works. There was a high chance the platform had been tampered with, and Ming Shu feared Lu Chang might make one wrong step…
Lu Chang stood still, listening intently. Confirming it wasn’t just his imagination, he heard Ming Shu’s voice growing closer as she circled the platform.
She had climbed up?
His heart leaped. He walked to the stairs and looked down, indeed seeing Ming Shu about five levels up.
“Brother!” Ming Shu looked up, relieved to see him. She stood holding the railing and waved, “The platform is dangerous, come down quickly!”
“I know!” Lu Chang, angry at her risky climb, feigned fury and said, “Who told you to come up?!”
“The Third Prince sent me! Don’t just stand there, come down quickly. Tang Li… Tang Li is dead…”
Ming Shu panted, truly exhausted from the climb.
Lu Chang was incredibly surprised. Ming Shu continued, “I’ll tell you more once you’re down…”
Before she could finish, a commotion erupted below the platform.
One of the monks circling the platform had tripped, colliding with the inner circle of monks. As he fell, his lotus lantern tumbled, spilling fire and oil onto the prayer flags hanging from the platform.
The fire rapidly spread up the flags, coincidentally on Ming Shu’s side, quickly engulfing them.
“Ming Shu, come up!” Lu Chang called down, his expression changing as he assessed the situation carefully.
The platform was entirely wooden. If it caught fire, those on top would have no escape.
Ming Shu looked back, watching the flames climb upward. Terrified, she found strength she didn’t know she had and raced up the stairs.
“Brother!” Still shaken, Ming Shu reached the top and was immediately pulled into Lu Chang’s embrace.
With one side of the platform engulfed in flames that had reached the wooden stairs, their escape route was cut off. Lu Chang held Ming Shu close as they retreated to the opposite side, searching for a way out.
The growing flames in the vast night sky resembled ferocious fangs. As the night wind blew, the desolate scene felt like standing on the edge of an abyss. Ming Shu’s mind raced, momentarily feeling as if they were on a cliff’s edge with fire pursuing them. Fragmented images flashed through her mind, but before she could process them, she and Lu Chang had retreated to the opposite edge.
They stepped onto the southern edge of the platform, where Lu Chang was meant to perform his bows. Before he could devise a plan, a sharp crack of breaking wood rang out beneath their feet.
The edge of the platform, along with the railing, suddenly gave way. Lu Chang and Ming Shu felt the ground disappear beneath them as they plummeted from the high platform.
The whoosh of wind past their ears seemed to awaken something in Ming Shu, her mind a whirl of confusion.
“Hold on tight!” Lu Chang remained calm. He wrapped one arm around Ming Shu’s waist and with his other hand, grabbed onto a prayer flag that hung from this side of the platform, untouched by the flames. Using the flag’s rope, he guided their descent.
Ming Shu clung to Lu Chang’s neck instinctively, barely having time to feel afraid as they slid down the rope. When they were about one zhang from the ground, the flames finally reached this rope as well.
The rope snapped instantly. Lu Chang, using both arms, pulled Ming Shu close to his chest, shielding her with his body as they crashed heavily onto the altar of offerings below the platform. The wooden altar split in two from the impact. Lu Chang’s grip loosened from the pain in his hands, and Ming Shu rolled out of his embrace.
“Ming Shu…”
Fortunately, the remaining height wasn’t too great, and unlikely to be fatal. Lu Chang staggered to his feet, moving towards Ming Shu.
Ming Shu, however, remained silent.
The world seemed to spin around her, everything before her eyes a blur. She could barely make out Lu Chang, while her ears were filled with chaotic noise and the ringing of blade edges…
Yes, blades.
Blood-stained, emerging from the depths of her memory.
—
As the Ullambana Festival drew to a close, people were still burning paper clothes outside their doors. Paper ash fluttered through the air, filling the sky…
At the end of the street, several horses of unknown origin were tied beneath a large tree, lazily swishing their tails. After an indeterminate time, a group of black-clad night travelers appeared with a woman, moving swiftly.
“We should be safe now. Let’s return quickly,” the apparent leader of the black-clad group said, then turned to the woman with a deep voice, “I’ll help you onto the horse first.”
Zhou Xiuqing had no say in the matter. She had been passed from one group of unknown individuals to another. Trembling, she nodded, willing to do anything to save her life.
The man helped Zhou Xiuqing onto the tall horse, then turned to give instructions to his subordinates in a low voice.
In that brief moment, an arrow whistled through the night, striking Zhou Xiuqing squarely in the heart.
Zhou Xiuqing’s eyes widened suddenly, staring into the pitch-black night, her hand slowly moving to her chest.
“Boss, there’s an assassin!” someone shouted in alarm.
“Save her first!” the leader commanded.
The commotion around them grew, but Zhou Xiuqing’s pupils began to dilate, and soon she heard no more.
It had been a peaceful night until then.
—
Ming Shu wandered through the darkness, unsure of her destination. Feeling afraid, she looked around searching for Lu Chang.
“Brother…” She still called him that.
What had happened?
She remembered climbing the platform to find Lu Chang, but why was she here now?
Someone had carelessly set fire to the prayer flags, which spread to the meditation platform. She ran and ran, escaping to Lu Chang’s side, and then…
Then she and Lu Chang fell from the platform together.
The wind whistled past, and below was a pitch-black abyss. She felt as if she wasn’t falling from the platform but from a bottomless cliff… The rustling of grass and trees filled the air, and all the human voices around her transformed into hurried footsteps.
“Search thoroughly. Kill without mercy.”
A man’s gruff voice cut through the darkness, and as if sliced open by this sound, the darkness gave way to the flickering light of torches snaking behind her. The scenery abruptly changed to a deep mountain with shadowy trees. Ahead lay a cliff, while behind were blood-stained blades. With nowhere to run, she leaped off the cliff…
The mountain scene shifted again. Suddenly, she was in a brightly lit, opulent room. A man adorned in gold and jade stood there, coaxing, “Father, I’ve already told you, don’t interfere with my relationship with Lu Chang!”
“I just thought you liked him… Alright, alright, I’ll interfere if I must…” The man, round-bellied and stately, had a look of helpless indulgence at the corners of his eyes and brows.
Father?
Father… Who was he?
“I’m just sick of Lu Chang!” Though the man conceded, he couldn’t help but complain, “To think that my daughter, Jian Jinhai’s daughter, the young lady of the Jian family, sought after by so many suitors, and he simply doesn’t know how fortunate he is.”
The young lady of the Jian family?
Was her surname Lu?
Who was she?
The luxurious room vanished abruptly as if it were merely a fragment of memory.
She became a child with two small buns in her hair, peeking out from behind her mother, and giggling at the boy standing in front.
That was… nine-year-old Lu Chang. He was thin and shy, standing there without a word.
She wanted to greet him.
“Little brother, I’m Jian Mingshu. Mingshu, like the bright moon. Mother says I’m her little moon.”
Yes, Jian Mingshu…
Surname Jian, not Lu.
She was the only young lady of the Jian family, Jian Mingshu.
Ming Shu’s eyes flew open. All the visions disappeared, leaving only the canopy above her.