If this matter had been in anyone else’s hands, it would have been incredibly simple—a money-seeking courtesan, a paying client, and all that needed to be done was to feed some pastries filled with a maiden’s affections to her patron. Everything would have been normal and would have gone smoothly.
But Feng Yue’s head wasn’t full of bubbles—would she take money to help others harm Yin Gezhi? She’d die without even knowing how!
Never mind that Yin Gezhi wouldn’t be coming to see her tonight; even if he did come, how could she dare give him something meant to be eaten? Though she smiled foolishly, she couldn’t be taken for a true fool!
After seeing the client off, Feng Yue examined the banknote for a moment, then got up to fetch paper and brush. She wrote a small note, crumpled it into a ball, and stuffed it into a hollow silver piece, then covered the outside with silver-colored putty.
“Ling Shu,” she called out, “go buy some green bean cakes.”
The little maid bounced in, took the silver, and ran out without a word.
This Wu Country seemed quite chaotic—some people were interested in Yin Gezhi, while others wanted to drag him into an endless hell. The Crown Prince was peculiar and sinister, Miss Yi was a clueless innocent—could she really accomplish what she wanted to do?
“Feng Yue.”
Just as she was thinking this, a gentle voice sounded behind her. Feng Yue paused and turned around to see Ye Yuqing in magnificent attire, fanning himself as he entered.
“Young lord comes so early,” Feng Yue glanced at the daylight outside and smiled, “Aren’t you afraid of gossip, coming in broad daylight?”
“Eight out of ten clients here must bow to me. Tell me, who would dare gossip?” He closed his fan and sat down, looking at her, “Though it’s surprising that you would care about others’ opinions?”
“I don’t care, but it’s rare to find others who care as little as I do.” She smiled, serving him tea.
With just the two of them in the room, when neither spoke, the atmosphere grew awkward.
Ye Yuqing showed no intention of easing this awkwardness. He looked up at her and suddenly said, “I’ve had too much tea. Let’s drink wine today instead?”
Wine? Her eyes brightened, and Feng Yue immediately opened the cabinet, proudly telling him, “This humble one probably has more wine than anything else here.”
Wine was good—when drunk, you knew nothing, could sleep with someone in a confused state and be done with it, without any need to overthink. Simple and direct.
Seeing her gleaming eyes, Ye Yuqing couldn’t help but laugh. He rose to help her bring out the wine jars and scooped out wine, one jar per person.
Don’t ask why he didn’t use wine cups—how could someone like her use such things to drink? If not for her injured hands, the wine jar would suit her even better.
At the envoy’s mansion.
Since they weren’t going to Menghui House, Xu Huaizu and An Shichong could only dine at the mansion. Guanzhi had stir-fried five dishes that looked quite appealing in presentation, aroma, and taste, but as soon as Crown Prince Yin took up his chopsticks, his face darkened by half.
“Too much salt.”
Guanzhi was startled and quickly lowered his head.
He had always struggled to control the amount of salt, but his master had never commented before. Now that he’d mentioned it, what should he do? Make it again? There wasn’t time—it was already noon, and all three would go hungry if he started over.
Xu Huaizu forced down the food, shoveled two mouthfuls of rice to wash it down, then asked, “Why aren’t we going to Menghui House anymore?”
Yin Gezhi replied indifferently, “We can’t eat there forever.”
“If Guanzhi can’t cook well, why not invite Miss Feng Yue back to cook?” An Shichong said seriously, “Too much salt is bad for health.”
Xu Huaizu smacked him, caught between laughter and tears, “Who do you think Miss Feng Yue is? Someone who can be ordered around as a cook? I heard the Crown Prince visited her today. If she’s lucky, the Crown Prince might even buy her freedom.”
The hand holding the chopsticks paused, and Yin Gezhi’s voice turned cold: “You’re slandering the Crown Prince.”
“This disciple wouldn’t dare!” Xu Huaizu quickly said, “How is this slander? If the Crown Prince wants to buy someone’s freedom, it wouldn’t be difficult to set up a residence outside the palace to keep her. It’s happened before. I was just saying…”
An Shichong glanced at Yin Gezhi and tilted his head.
Though Master didn’t talk much, once you got familiar with him, understanding his emotions wasn’t particularly difficult. For instance, right now, he sensed that Master was a bit angry.
Angry about what? Certainly not about Xu Huaizu slandering the Crown Prince.
“Master,” after thinking for a while, An Shichong spoke up, “If you like Miss Feng Yue, why not buy her freedom sooner rather than later?”
Choking on a mouthful of rice, Yin Gezhi’s face turned slightly blue. It took him a while to catch his breath: “Your master will not like her.”
Then why this reaction? An Shichong couldn’t figure it out, so he simply lowered his head and continued eating.
After lunch, under the blazing sun, Yin Gezhi lifted his foot to leave, but his two disciples followed closely behind.
Pulling back his foot, Yin Gezhi looked at them: “The ‘No Regret Sword Manual’ and ‘Eternal Grudge Blade Manual’ are on the third shelf in the middle of the study. Study them well today; no need to go out.”
Hearing this, the two disciples ran off at lightning speed, instantly disappearing.
Breathing a slight sigh of relief, Yin Gezhi successfully stepped out the door. Just as he mounted his horse, he heard Guanzhi ask from behind, “Where do you want to go?”
“…Just for a walk.”
He’d gotten rid of two but forgot there was one he couldn’t shake off. Yin Gezhi pressed his lips together.
It wasn’t that he had to go to Menghui House—it was just that life was dull, and he wanted to find some entertainment. If not Menghui House, there were plenty of good places nearby, like the Zhanchi Pavilion in the Beauty Court.
“Master,” Guanzhi said, “This servant forgot to report—after you gave the order, Ganjiang only contacted three people. Two were our people, and the third… though it might not count as contact, was the proprietress of a pastry shop. He bought pastries and paid with silver, which seemed quite normal.”
Pastry shop? Yin Gezhi asked, “Which pastry shop?”
“The one selling green bean cakes at the end of Xiangyu Street,” Guanzhi said, “This servant investigated—it’s an honest business. The shop has been open for several years; there shouldn’t be any problems.”
Is that so? Yin Gezhi pondered for a moment, then suddenly asked, “Doesn’t Feng Yue often eat green bean cakes?”
It seemed so. Guanzhi nodded: “Miss Feng Yue often has green bean cakes on her flower stand.”
Nodding seriously, Yin Gezhi said, “I think this matter needs thorough investigation. Let’s go to Menghui House.”
What? Guanzhi was startled, mounting his horse to follow, thinking his master was too sharp—how could he sense something wrong from just a few boxes of green bean cakes?
It wasn’t about the green bean cakes at all. Yin Gezhi didn’t know why he’d turned his horse toward Menghui House; perhaps it was intuition telling him he should check on her.
No other reason. He simply believed in better safety than sorry.
Drinking from morning until noon, Feng Yue was already half-drunk, while Ye Yuqing remained composed, elegantly refilling her wine: “Would you like something to eat?”
“There’s still beef jerky, plenty to eat!” Laughing, Feng Yue had lost all propriety, sitting boldly at the table with one foot propped on a nearby stool, one hand gripping the wine jar as she poured it into her mouth. After wiping her mouth, she shouted, “Excellent!”
Her eyes were bright, her whole face radiant with spirit, looking much more pleasing than when she put on airs with a fake smile.
Ye Yuqing fanned himself, saying, “You look quite like a free-spirited wanderer of the jianghu.”
Jianghu wanderer? Feng Yue waved her hand, eyes half-closed, “Your lady here is the Demon King of Chaos, few dare to offend me!”
She was drunk, starting to talk nonsense. Ye Yuqing smiled, not stopping her, just watching with amusement.
Her outer robe had slipped off her shoulder, her sash loose. Feng Yue cast seductive glances, her autumn waves sweeping across: “After this jar of wine, let’s charge over that mountain, chop off the enemy general’s head, and cook it for dinner!”
So fierce? Ye Yuqing raised an eyebrow: “Are you a general?”
“Yes!” Feng Yue nodded: “I am the lady general!”
Slightly startled, Ye Yuqing looked at her in confusion as she stood up, stumbling to a chest nearby, and pulled out a white suit of armor: “See this? This is my armor!”
Upon seeing it was a theatrical costume, Ye Yuqing breathed a sigh of relief, smiling and shaking his head: “You are quite something.”
“Of course! My blade sweeps away thousands of cavalry, my wine drowns ten thousand years of sorrow!” With a heroic shout, Feng Yue fell onto the soft couch and continued drinking. Finding her hairpin uncomfortable, she simply pulled them all out. Lying comfortably on the pillow, she raised a toast to the blurry shadows floating above.
“Wait for me, wait until I send them down, then I’ll come find you all!”
His heart twinged slightly. Ye Yuqing reached for her wine jar: “Don’t get too drunk. You still have a lovely night ahead.”
Lovely night? Feng Yue froze, blinking at him stupidly, her eyes completely unfocused: “Haven’t we already had many, many lovely nights?”
Pulling her up, Ye Yuqing walked toward the bed, saying softly: “We’ll have many, many lovely nights in the future. The previous ones don’t count.”
The previous ones… don’t count? Feng Yue’s lip trembled, tears welling up from the grievance: “Don’t count… fine if they don’t count, who cares!”
“Don’t cry.”
“Who are you to tell your lady whether to cry or not? I’m not crying!” She roared fiercely, though her voice carried a crying tone.
Ye Yuqing stopped smiling. Laying her on the bed, he pressed down on top of her: “You seem to have many stories?”
“No.” Like a child, she stretched out her hands for him to see, bringing both palms before his eyes: “Look, I have nothing.”
Lowering his head to kiss her palm gently, Ye Yuqing’s eyes showed complex emotions as he said softly: “Whatever you want, this prince can give you.”
What did she want? Feng Yue stared blankly for a long while, then smiled drunkenly: “This humble one wants nothing anymore. The only thing I might want… is Yi Guoru’s life.”
His body suddenly stiffened as Ye Yuqing looked at her in shock.
The person beneath him had flushed cheeks and misty eyes, clearly very drunk. Were the words of a drunk person truth or lies?
Yi Guoru’s life… who exactly was she?
Before he could sort out his thoughts through the confusion in his mind, with a “bang,” the door was kicked open again.