Ming Huashang and Su Xingzhi went to every place where Su Yuji might have gone. Ming Huashang had brought guards along to help her search, but they still turned up nothing.
The clouds on the horizon blazed like fire, a magnificent sky, yet neither Ming Huashang nor Su Xingzhi had the heart to appreciate it. Ming Huashang asked, “Are there still places we haven’t looked?”
Su Xingzhi slowly shook his head. “Apart from going to the West Market to buy cloth and food, Yuji ordinarily spends most of her time at home. She rarely goes anywhere else for leisure, and staying out all night has never happened before.”
Only now did Su Xingzhi realize that for all its splendor and grandeur, Chang’an was a place where Su Yuji had gone almost nowhere. She had no relatives or friends in this city. Once she went missing, he didn’t even have anyone he could ask.
Ming Huashang was deeply anxious too. She watched the stream of people coming and going through the West Market and said, “Waiting around like this won’t do any good. Su brother, go back home first and take a look — Yuji may already have returned. I’ll head back to the manor and wait as well. If she appears anywhere near Duke Zhenguo’s manor, I’ll send you word immediately.”
For now, that was all they could do. Su Xingzhi reluctantly agreed, and Ming Huashang returned to the manor with her guards, exhausted to the bone.
By the time she arrived home, the sun had already sunk below the horizon. The sky had turned a deep blue-black, like an unfathomable sea suspended overhead, its weight pressing down silently upon the earth. Ming Huashang had spent the entire day searching and questioning people; her voice had gone hoarse. She didn’t even have time to drink a sip of water — the moment she stepped out of the carriage, she rushed to find Duke Zhenguo.
Duke Zhenguo was pacing back and forth in his study, his brow clouded with agitation. When he heard a servant announce “the Second Young Lady has returned,” he snapped angrily, “She still knows her way home? I told her to return to the manor at once, and instead she went off wandering heaven knows where — does she still consider me her father?”
Ming Huashang had only just walked in when she heard Duke Zhenguo scolding her. She dismissed the maids and guards, closed the door, and then said to Duke Zhenguo, “Father, leaving without a word was my fault. But I left to help search for someone.”
Duke Zhenguo scoffed coldly. “Search for whom?”
When Ming Huashang had left with the manor’s guards, she certainly could not have told anyone she was going to look for another young lady of the same manor, so she had simply not told Duke Zhenguo the reason, only said she would be back shortly. Judging by his expression, he had surely assumed Ming Huashang had gone off to play again.
This misunderstanding was actually fine. Ming Huashang did not expose the greatest secret their family was keeping, and instead asked, “Father, has Second Brother still not returned?”
When Duke Zhenguo looked at Ming Huashang with that exasperated expression, it softened considerably the moment Ming Huazhang was mentioned. He sighed and said, “Not yet. Those accompanying him say he went outside the city — no telling when he’ll be back.”
Ming Huashang asked, “Where did he go?”
Duke Zhenguo shook his head. “Don’t know. He didn’t take anyone with him, and even the constables from the capital bureau couldn’t give a clear account. But perhaps it’s good that he went out at a time like this — if he doesn’t know anything, he can’t make any mistakes.”
Ming Huashang’s brow shifted slightly. There seemed to be a deeper meaning hidden in Duke Zhenguo’s words. She glanced at her father and asked, “Father, did something happen in the palace?”
Duke Zhenguo let out a long, heavy sigh and said, “Prince Shao and the heir of Prince Wei made remarks about the Zhang brothers. When the Holy Sovereign learned of it, she flew into a fury and ordered each of them beaten one hundred strokes. The punishment was carried out at the Danfeng Gate. Not long ago, Prince Shao and the Wei heir were sent home — whether they’ll live or die remains unknown.”
“What?” Ming Huashang was utterly shocked. She had known the Empress was angry, but not that the situation had become this grave. Prince Shao was the Crown Prince’s eldest legitimate son — the heir to the heir — and held immense significance for the state. How could the Empress be so cruel as to treat her own grandson this way?
This was aimed at beating him to death.
She hurried to say, “Prince Shao is only nineteen years old. Even if he spoke carelessly, shouldn’t he at least be given a chance to correct his mistake? The Holy Sovereign was in a fit of anger — didn’t anyone offer a word of counsel?”
“Shh!” Duke Zhenguo quickly cut Ming Huashang off. He scanned the firmly shut doors and windows, confirmed that no one else was around, and then set his face gravely and said, “Do not recklessly discuss the Holy Sovereign’s will.”
Ming Huashang herself was a member of Xuan Xiaowei and knew just how formidable the Empress’s intelligence network was. She had no choice but to hold her tongue, however reluctantly. Duke Zhenguo saw her fuming and felt a quiet pang in his heart.
Ming Huashang could not accept the Empress’s ruthlessness, yet Duke Zhenguo felt no ripple at all. A person who could drive even her own sons to their deaths step by step — how could she care whether a grandchild lived or died?
A full one hundred strokes — even the most skilled palace executioners would need to rotate through several men to complete the punishment. In all that time, had Princess Taiping, the Crown Prince, and Prince Xiang truly not received word?
They had clearly known. But they chose to pretend otherwise. It was not cowardice — they simply understood the Empress’s ruthlessness.
When all was said and done, it was only a nephew. The Crown Prince and Prince Xiang each had many sons. If this one was gone, another could be groomed in his place. But if they provoked the Empress’s fury and disrupted the succession, causing the throne to pass to the Crown Prince with further complications — that would make them sinners for all of history.
Before the great cause of restoring the Tang dynasty, any sacrifice was worth it.
So when Duke Zhenguo first received the news, his instinct was not to think of a way to save anyone — it was to hurry and keep Ming Huazhang in check, lest he act on impulse. When he learned that Ming Huazhang had left the city, he had genuinely breathed a sigh of relief.
Being out of the city was good — it meant no involvement in this muddy water, no trouble brought upon himself, no offense given to the Crown Prince. As for the case deadline expiring tomorrow, Duke Zhenguo didn’t care in the slightest. Failing to solve it would only earn a reprimand for incompetence. If it led to a transfer out of the capital bureau, that volatile place of right and wrong, it might even be a blessing.
Whether Ming Huashang was satisfied or dissatisfied with events in the imperial palace, there was nothing useful she could do about any of it. Since Ming Huazhang was temporarily safe, Ming Huashang silently sighed in her heart, took her leave of Duke Zhenguo, and withdrew.
She returned to her own room. After a day spent turning this way and that, she could finally sit down and rest. She took a sip of sour plum soup and inexplicably felt the room hollow around her. She puzzled over it for a moment before finally realizing the reason.
Ming Huashang asked, “Where is Zhao Cai?”
Jin Bao and the other maids exchanged glances. “She went to find you, Young Lady. Did you not see her?”
Ming Huashang frowned. “We agreed to meet back at the manor. She still hasn’t returned after all this time?”
Just then, a small maidservant came running in to announce that a guard was requesting an audience. Ming Huashang called him in. The guard bowed before her and asked, “Second Young Lady, has Zhao Cai returned?”
Ming Huashang’s brow furrowed. A sense of foreboding stirred in her, and her expression grew grave. “She hasn’t. Weren’t you with her?”
The guard realized something was wrong and hurriedly knelt to beg forgiveness. “Please forgive me, Young Lady. Zhao Cai felt that the two of us were too slow asking around, so she had us split up. I finished questioning people and waited a long time but couldn’t find her, so I assumed she’d come back to the manor herself…”
Ming Huashang couldn’t sit still even halfway through his account. She stood up immediately and said, “Something this serious — why are you only saying it now? Call people together, go out and find her at once!”
The maids saw Ming Huashang about to head out and quickly pleaded, “Young Lady, it’s so late outside. It isn’t safe for you to go. Let the servants search for her.”
“It’s so late outside — is she safe out there alone, then?” said Ming Huashang. “My mind is made up. Don’t try to persuade me. Hurry and prepare the carriage, and bring all the household staff!”
Ming Huashang had barely returned before she was rushing out again in a whirlwind. The curfew was not far off. She checked the time and felt her urgency mounting, urging the coachman on again and again.
The events at the Danfeng Gate had not long since passed. The broad streets were empty and desolate, and an air of sharp menace hung about them. In the deliberate silence, the hoofbeats of Ming Huashang’s horse sounded jarringly loud.
Passing through Vermilion Bird Street, a squad of soldiers stopped Ming Huashang’s carriage and stepped forward to ask, “Who approaches?”
Ming Huashang presented the Duke Zhenguo Manor’s token and said earnestly, “I am Ming Erniang, second daughter of the manor. My maidservant has gone missing in Changshou Ward. I wish to go and find her — I ask that you gentlemen extend some leniency.”
The soldiers checked the manor’s token, confirmed it was valid, and returned it — but their manner remained cold. “Curfew is nearly upon us. Even if you go now, you won’t make it back in time. Wait until tomorrow to search.”
“How can that be?” said Ming Huashang. “She is a weak girl without the strength to restrain a chicken. She has never even stayed at an inn before. Spending the night outside is far too dangerous. I promise to go and come back quickly — I won’t delay the curfew at all. I beg you all to be lenient.”
Ming Huashang said everything she could think of to say, but the night-watch constables were still unmoved. Just as Ming Huashang was considering whether to force her way through, a clear and crisp rhythm of hoofbeats rang out along the street. A young gentleman in blue drew in his reins and approached slowly, asking, “What’s happening?”
Ming Huashang saw Xie Jichuan coming from the north and guessed he had just left the Eastern Palace. Thinking of what had happened there today, she sighed softly and answered, “Brother Xie, I have urgent business in Changshou Ward, but the imperial guards won’t let me through.”
The soldiers recognized Xie Jichuan as a trusted favorite beside the Crown Prince and saluted him in unison. “Palace Aide Xie.”
Xie Jichuan swept his gaze over Ming Huashang. Her brow was slightly creased, her expression unsettled, and she hadn’t even noticed that one of the jade combs in her hair had come loose. She genuinely looked in a hurry. Drawing people into trouble at such a time as this was an extremely foolish thing to do. Yet Xie Jichuan, as if possessed by something, pulled out the Eastern Palace’s token and said lightly, “I have been sent by His Highness the Crown Prince to the West Market to procure medicine. Taking her along changes nothing — let them pass.”
The soldiers exchanged glances. Everyone had heard about the events at the Eastern Palace — Prince Shao was still lying inside in mortal peril — and none dared bear the crime of delaying the Crown Prince’s search for medicine. They stepped aside and bowed their heads. “Yes. You may pass!”
Xie Jichuan rode westward, and Ming Huashang’s carriage followed behind, at last allowed to move. Ming Huashang let out a long breath of relief. Once they had moved out of earshot of the soldiers, she said quietly, “Thank you.”
Xie Jichuan controlled his horse with one hand, drifting without purpose ahead of Ming Huashang’s carriage. He was usually all easy smiles, but today Xie Jichuan was expressionless — exhausted to his very core, too tired even to bother wearing his usual mask.
He said flatly, “No need to thank me. Consider it repayment for the message you sent to warn me.”
Ming Huashang knew that even without her warning, Xie Jichuan would have received word from the Eastern Palace. That favor of hers had actually meant very little. She didn’t dare delay him any further and quickly said, “Brother Xie, please hurry and go procure the medicine for the Crown Prince — don’t miss the time for treatment.”
Xie Jichuan gave a faint laugh, his gaze drifting out over the empty, desolate streets. “I was speaking off the cuff. The Crown Prince prepared the finest physicians and the finest medicines for Prince Shao long ago. The Crown Prince Consort herself is keeping vigil at his bedside. The best medicines in the world are already at the Eastern Palace — what need is there for me to find any?”
Ming Huashang listened, her mood growing heavy. The Crown Prince and Crown Prince Consort were sparing no effort to save Prince Shao — it looked like the love of parents for their son. Yet these were also the same people who had not stepped one foot outside the Eastern Palace when the Empress had Prince Shao beaten.
Ming Huashang asked, “And the Wei heir? And Princess Yongtai?”
“Sent back to Prince Wei’s manor,” Xie Jichuan said. “Don’t worry — Prince Wei will certainly have prepared costly medicines as well. As for whether they pull through, that is a matter of his children’s fate.”
Ming Huashang looked at his remote, indifferent expression and hesitated, her words stopping before they left her lips. Finally, she said softly, “Prince Shao is favored by fortune. Brother Xie, don’t worry too much.”
Xie Jichuan smiled a little but didn’t answer, instead asking in return, “Coming out at this hour means violating curfew. What brings you out?”
At that, Ming Huashang’s expression grew solemn. “Zhao Cai has gone missing. I had other matters today, so I sent her to ask questions in Changshou Ward on my behalf, but she hasn’t come back until now.”
Xie Jichuan remembered Zhao Cai — he had even laughed at how common her name was once. Yet of all the elegantly named maids in Chang’an, he couldn’t recall a single one of them. But he remembered Zhao Cai deeply.
Xie Jichuan had thought she was going out for the case. He hadn’t expected it was for a maidservant. He said, “She’s only a maidservant. If she hasn’t come back, wait until tomorrow. Is it really worth violating curfew for her?”
Only a maidservant had gone missing — to Duke Zhenguo’s manor, it was no more than losing a piece of property. But Ming Huashang coming out to search for her meant the guilt would fall on Ming Huashang herself.
The Danfeng Gate had just seen a bloody incident. Going out in the dead of night at such a time was not a wise move at all.
Xie Jichuan had spoken the thoughts of many. What he did not expect was for Ming Huashang to set her face and say in earnest, “She is a maidservant, but before she was sold into servitude, she was a person of flesh and blood. I grew up with her. I know her character well — she has never caused trouble for others. The fact that she hasn’t come back this late means something must have held her up. How can I wait until tomorrow?”
Xie Jichuan went quiet and asked, “What if the one who had gone missing was an ordinary maidservant?”
“I still could not stand by and do nothing,” Ming Huashang said. “If anyone around me went missing, I would come out to search for them — it has nothing to do with whether she is a maidservant or whether we are close.”
Xie Jichuan fell silent for a long while this time, then gave a soft laugh. “You are just like him — both of you with the hearts of saints, naive and idealistic, utterly impractical. You don’t have a palace token. You’ll certainly be caught by the imperial guards on the way back. Let me come with you.”
Ming Huashang was surprised. Xie Jichuan had disparaged her at length — she had assumed he found this kind of behavior quite beneath contempt. Xie Jichuan read her thoughts and said, “Don’t misunderstand. I only want to watch and see how long it takes before you realize that this sort of idealistic naivety cannot survive in this world.”
At a time like this, having one more person to help was a good thing. Ming Huashang did not bother taking offense at his cutting remarks. “Then I’ll take it as Brother Xie complimenting me. Thank you for your help.”
Ming Huashang had her guard lead the way, and they hurried to the place where he and Zhao Cai had separated, going door to door. Xie Jichuan also sent his own attendants fanning out to search. Ming Huashang didn’t know how many doors she knocked on or how many apologies she gave, until she suddenly noticed Xie Jichuan standing motionless at the entrance to a remote alley, unmoving for a long time. She sensed something wrong and walked over to ask, “Brother Xie, what is it?”
Xie Jichuan turned around, blocking her line of sight, and said, “Nothing. Let’s go look somewhere else.”
A day of consecutive setbacks had left Ming Huashang at the very limits of both her body and her spirit. There was not a drop of color in her cheeks. Her face expressionless, she stepped around Xie Jichuan. He didn’t move — still standing in her way.
The last trace of color drained from Ming Huashang’s lips. Her eyes filled with tears that she couldn’t stop, but she still pushed Xie Jichuan aside, insisting on seeing that scene with her own eyes.
At the far end of the narrow alley, the last snow of the previous winter still lingered in a corner against the wall. A woman lay slumped in the shadows, her body curled into a tight ball, perfectly still. The earth beneath her had turned a deep, dark purple, soaked through with a wide pool of blood.
She still wore her hair in the yuanbao style she always favored, with the pearl flower ornament she loved most pinned in it. But this time, the pearl flower had fallen to the ground, and the rapid-fire complaints it usually prompted had long since gone quiet.
Ming Huashang walked forward, step by step, as if her soul had left her body. “Zhao Cai — curfew is almost here. What are you doing lying here?”
Xie Jichuan stood at the mouth of the alley. He had been the one to say, only moments ago, that he wanted to watch her meet the hard limits of the world. Now that he had truly watched it happen, he was the one who couldn’t bear it. He sighed softly, stepped quickly forward, and reached out to cover her eyes.
“Don’t look.”
Xie Jichuan thought he might have finally figured out what the riddle was. Daybreak’s light, with none to tend it; moonlit flowing waters, going where they will. He had turned over many possible combinations in his mind, and had not once considered that the answer was the simplest thing of all — an acrostic.
Day. Moon. Ming.
Zhao Cai had been the one staying in Changshou Ward to ask questions, standing in for Ming Huashang. Anyone who didn’t know the truth would assume this girl was the second young lady of Duke Zhenguo’s manor. If the target of the third case was Ming Huashang, then Zhao Cai had died because she had been mistaken for her.
What Xie Jichuan had worked out, Ming Huashang had naturally worked out herself. The tears in her eyes broke free at last. Su Yuji, Ming Huazhang, Zhao Cai — all the pressure of these recent days came crashing down on her like a collapsing mountain. Her vision went dark, and Ming Huashang finally buckled under the weight of it and fainted.
She had thought that last night, discovering her father’s secret and having that terrible falling-out with Ming Huazhang, was already the worst day possible. She had not known that when the night passed and the sun rose, the true despair would only just be beginning.
So it turned out that even when daylight came, things did not get better.