Huang Zixia followed Zhou Ziqin, walking along the corridor draped with Boston ivy until they reached the door at the eastern end. Zhou Ziqin brought A’Mo over to her, saying, “If you need anything tonight – bedding, foot washing, or tomorrow morning’s water for washing up – just call him. If he doesn’t do a good job, teach him a lesson!”

Huang Zixia recalled how Zhou Ziqin had nearly been crushed by the bronze statue while these two remained calm enough to play cat’s cradle. She thought to herself, it’s probably hopeless – how many years have you been trying to teach him lessons, and when has he ever paid attention to you?

Fortunately, she was very familiar with this place, so she asked A’Mo to fetch bedding from the cabinet and lay it out for her. She also picked out two new towels and had A’Mo bring a bucket of hot water from the kitchen.

Though A’Mo was naturally lazy, he wouldn’t dare slight someone from the Duke of Kui’s household. He hurriedly served tea and water, made the bed, and arranged the bedding – showing far more diligence than when serving Zhou Ziqin.

Huang Zixia closed the door, washed her face and feet, and wiped down her body. She felt the day’s fatigue washing over her. Lying in bed, she wondered if returning to this familiar place would keep her awake. But drowsiness overtook her, and before long, she had fallen into deep sleep.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when she saw her parents and brother beckoning to her.

She quickly took a few steps, but something felt odd about her walk. Looking down, she realized she was wearing a pleated skirt embroidered with flowering crabapple branches rather than her eunuch’s attire. She nearly tripped on the hem of her skirt.

Happily lifting her skirt, Huang Zixia ran toward them. The family sat together in harmony. Everything around them was a vast whiteness – she could see nothing except within a radius of several feet where the four of them sat around a stone table. Above them, an osmanthus tree was in full bloom, its sweet fragrance enveloping them.

Everyone was talking cheerfully, but Huang Zixia couldn’t understand what they were saying. So she just held her mother’s arm, pressing her cheek against it coquettishly as she used to do, smiling as she watched everyone.

She didn’t know what they were saying, but since everyone was happy, she kept smiling too. Osmanthus flowers fell one by one onto their heads, shoulders, and the stone table, more and more of them, gleaming golden.

Perhaps the fragrance was too intense, or the joy too intoxicating – Huang Zixia, still smiling and leaning against her mother, gradually felt herself growing distant. So she closed her eyes with a smile, letting the osmanthus flowers and sunlight fall upon her.

After an unknown time, the warm sunlight and sweet osmanthus fragrance vanished. Not knowing where she was, she opened her eyes to look around.

It was still all white, and she could still only see within a radius of several feet. Her parents and brother lay on wooden boards, covered with white cloth, resting silently on the blue brick floor.

There was complete silence; everything around her had frozen.

She stared at her family members’ corpses from what felt like both near and far, standing stock-still, forgetting even to breathe, her heart seeming to stop. She didn’t know how long she stood motionless before suddenly realizing: ah, it’s a dream – she had fallen into this dream again.

Like a broken spell, she jerked awake.

The dream shattered before her eyes. Nothing remained except the nearly suffocating pain in her chest.

Clutching her chest, she breathed heavily, staring wide-eyed at her surroundings.

The familiar furnishings, the scenes from her memories. Even the patterns carved on the beam posts were exactly as she remembered.

She had returned – returned to the Sichuan Prefecture Manor, returned to where she had spent the most beautiful times of her life, returned to the place that had brought her life’s greatest suffering.

She clutched the blanket tightly, her hands and body shaking violently as if every muscle was spasming. She forced herself to take deep breaths. Finally, the darkness before her eyes gradually receded, the ringing in her ears faded, and she came back to life once more.

She could hear birds hopping and calling in the branches, but no other sounds.

She sat up woodenly in bed and pushed open the window to look outside. The sun was already high, and crystal dewdrops hung from the dense Boston ivy outside her window, reflecting rainbow colors in the sunlight. She could see a corner of the lotus pond, where the last few lotus flowers of summer still bloomed sparsely.

Huang Zixia stared blankly out the window, at this prefectural manor, at those once-beautiful years of her life, and at her forever-lost girlhood.

After a long while, she shook her head, temporarily pushing everything to the back of her mind. She told herself: “Huang Zixia, don’t become the kind of weak-willed person you despise most. Right now, there’s only one thing you can do. Right now, there’s only one path before you. Right now, there’s only one destination you can head toward.”

After washing up with the water left from last night, she opened the door and walked out.

Standing in the corridor of the eastern wing room, the daylight was dazzling. At a glance, she saw three people having breakfast in the western flower hall across the way, its doors and windows wide open.

Facing her was Zhou Ziqin, who waved vigorously with a bun in hand: “Chonggu, come quickly, you must be hungry?”

Sitting to his left and right were the utterly familiar profiles of Li Shubai and Zhang Xingying.

She hurried across the small courtyard to greet Li Shubai: “My Lord, you’ve come early – is there urgent business?”

“I heard the prefecture manor’s dim sum is excellent, so I deliberately didn’t eat breakfast and came from the military governor’s residence to try it,” said Li Shubai, holding a small bowl of porridge.

Huang Zixia nodded to him and sat down at the empty side of the small square table. While ladling herself some egg drop soup, she said to him: “Yes, the manor’s cooks are quite famous in Shu Prefecture. Especially Miss Zheng who manages the dim sum – she and her two apprentice chefs are one-in-a-hundred talents.”

Zhou Ziqin looked at her puzzled: “How do you know that? Even I didn’t know…”

“Don’t you remember we investigated everyone in the manor last time?” Li Shubai asked impassively.

Zhou Ziqin immediately looked impressed: “Your memories are too good!”

Zhang Xingying buried his head in his porridge and bun, pretending he hadn’t heard anything.

Li Shubai asked Huang Zixia: “How is the case progressing after your exhausting journey these past few days?”

Huang Zixia set down her egg soup and said: “From what we can see now, Qi Teng’s death should be related to Fu Xinruan and Wen Yang’s suicide pact, as well as Tang Zhuniang’s death.”

Li Shubai glanced at Zhou Ziqin and asked: “What about the bloodbath at the prefecture manor back then?”

Huang Zixia thought briefly before saying: “Perhaps there’s no connection.”

“I think there is a connection,” Li Shubai said unhurriedly, ignoring Zhou Ziqin’s bewildered wide eyes. “I hear Yu Xuan has also been implicated in this case. So aren’t all these cases linked by one common person?”

Huang Zixia nodded silently and said: “Yes, he has connections to all the cases and victims that can’t be easily dismissed.”

“So what do you plan to do?” he asked again.

Huang Zixia leaned back in her chair, thinking quietly for a moment before saying: “I will go visit him.”

Zhou Ziqin immediately suggested: “Let’s go to his place today!”

“Mm.” Huang Zixia agreed, then remembered something and turned to ask Zhang Xingying: “Brother Zhang, I remember the day you encountered danger and met Jing Yu, when you fell off the cliff – you were knocked down by someone on horseback?”

“Not exactly knocked down, but he suddenly appeared from around the cliff bend without even slightly reining in his horse. That galloping horse suddenly charged at me, startling me so much that I lost my footing and slipped down the cliff,” Zhang Xingying hurriedly stuffed the remaining half of his bun into his mouth, swallowing it whole before continuing, “So he might not have intentionally knocked into me, but I fell because of him.”

Zhou Ziqin was confused and asked: “What does Tang Zhuniang’s death have to do with Brother Zhang falling off the cliff?”

“Do you remember, during those days when the Duke went missing, the Western Sichuan army sealed off the roads during their search and rescue, not allowing any vehicles or horses on the mountain paths? That’s why Tang Zhuniang couldn’t hire a cart to get home and had to walk back, and why Brother Zhang was also walking on the mountain path when he was run into by that person.”

Zhou Ziqin’s eyes suddenly grew huge: “Chonggu! Are you saying… there’s something suspicious about the person who ordered the mountain sealed off?”

“Who would seal off roads and set up such an elaborate scheme for no reason?” Huang Zixia was speechless: “What I mean is, since vehicles and horses had been banned for several days already, how was that person who knocked Brother Zhang off the cliff able to ride a horse on the mountain path?”

Zhou Ziqin had a sudden revelation and slapped the table: “An assassin! It must have been the assassin who tried to kill the Duke, stuck in the mountains for days without being able to leave, that’s why they appeared on horseback on the mountain path!”

Even Li Shubai couldn’t help but turn his head away in exasperation.

Huang Zixia, having quite a history with Zhou Ziqin, managed to stay patient and asked: “If that were the case, with Western Sichuan army search parties frequently on the mountain paths, how would they dare to gallop openly? And why wasn’t there any news later about catching the assassin?”

Zhou Ziqin suddenly drew in a sharp breath, looking cautiously left and right before leaning forward to ask: “Are you saying… the assassin was someone the Western Sichuan army knew?”

Huang Zixia finally couldn’t take it anymore and pressed her forehead, her elbow landing heavily on the table: “Brother Ziqin, what I mean is, this person who rode recklessly on the mountain path was most likely someone from the Western Sichuan army, or at least someone they knew.”

Zhou Ziqin blinked his big eyes, looking at them uncomprehendingly, not understanding what this had to do with solving the case.

Huang Zixia asked Zhang Xingying: “Do you remember what the person on horseback looked like?”

“Uh… because the horse came so fast, charging straight at me, and I fell immediately after, I couldn’t see clearly,” Zhang Xingying said honestly.

Huang Zixia asked again: “Was their build similar to Yu Xuan’s?”

Zhang Xingying immediately shook his head: “Scholar Yu is my benefactor, and I’ve seen him many times. I feel there was no resemblance between him and that person.”

Huang Zixia turned to look at Li Shubai and said: “So although Yu Xuan is connected to all these cases, he isn’t familiar with the Western Sichuan army, so the possibility of him being able to ride freely at that time is probably very low. Therefore, his connection to Tang Zhuniang’s death, in terms of possibility, should be quite weak.”

Li Shubai frowned and said: “Although Tang Zhuniang’s death may not be connected to him, with Fu Xinruan, Qi Teng, and – the bloodbath at the prefecture manor, I must say he is a key figure. You cannot avoid this point.”

Huang Zixia was silent for a long while, then nodded and said: “Yes, I will pay special attention to him.”