The day before they left the capital was coincidentally Zhou Ziqin’s father’s farewell feast. His family’s cook was quite skilled, and the guests enjoyed themselves thoroughly before departing.

After the meal, in the afternoon, as Zhou Ziqin saw them out, he said regretfully: “What a pity, missing a perfect Gulou pastry.”

Prince Zhao also nodded: “Indeed, we probably won’t be able to eat such delicious Gulou pastries again.”

Prince E Li Run went down the steps with them, and as he was walking toward his carriage, suddenly remembered something and turned toward Li Shubai: “Fourth Brother.”

Li Shubai turned to look at him.

He hesitated for a moment before saying softly: “Though the case is closed, I wonder about that painting my Imperial Mother drew… have Fourth Brother and Eunuch Yang reached any conclusions?”

“Though this painting was related to the case, it was only borrowed to confuse matters, used to add the color of ‘heaven’s punishment,'” Li Shubai pondered, “I’ve thought much about this painting recently. I believe the Imperial Consort Dowager must have drawn it after the late Emperor’s death, during a moment of lucidity, remembering the Emperor’s last painting. Because the memory was so deep, she secretly made a copy based on her recollection.”

“However, what we don’t understand now is, why the late Emperor drew that painting in the first place. What meaning was he trying to express?” Huang Zixia mused thoughtfully.

Li Run’s face was full of grief. Having long been devoted to Buddhism, he was already a person with delicate features and distant eyes and now appeared even more distracted, his thoughts wandering somewhere unknown. After a long while, he said softly: “When the late Emperor was on his deathbed, during moments of clarity, he didn’t arrange any state affairs, but instead drew such a picture—isn’t that strange? After the Emperor passed, Mother lost her mind from excessive grief, yet in her only moment of clarity, she copied Father’s last painting for me… I think this painting must be extremely important, what it contains might be… a secret that could determine the fate of the Tang Dynasty and the Li imperial clan.”

Just because when his mother gave him this painting, she told him that the Tang Dynasty was about to fall! The realm would change hands!

And at that time, she also told him, “Run’er, remember, never get too close to the Prince of Kui…”

Li Run gazed at the Prince of Kui Li Shubai before him. Among the current Tang imperial clan, he was the most outstanding figure, the pillar of the court, and the only force that could support the Li family. Yet, why did his mother tell him not to get close to him?

Was it because she had lost her mind, or had she once glimpsed some terrible truth, and thus revealed heaven’s secrets to him?

After the late Emperor passed, Mother went mad overnight—was it truly from excessive grief, or… were there other unfathomable, terrible reasons?

He dared not think further. After standing in a daze for a while, just as he was about to bid farewell to Li Shubai, Zhou Ziqin, who had finished seeing off the guests, came running over in quick steps: “Your Highness, Chonggu, just now when we mentioned Gulou pastries, I remembered something! Do you know? Second Brother Zhang has resigned from his position at the Capital Defense Bureau.”

Huang Zixia asked in surprise: “Why?”

“Well, come with me to the West Market and you’ll see.”

They were pulled along by Zhou Ziqin to the West Market. Lu’s Incense and Candle Shop was actually still open, but now Zhang Xingying and his elder brother and sister-in-law were sitting inside.

Zhang Xingying quickly stood up when he saw them, first bowing to Li Shubai.

Li Shubai nodded, gesturing him to skip the formalities, then glanced around the shop, asking: “Are you taking over this shop?”

Zhang Xingying nodded, then shook his head, saying: “It was only yesterday when the neighborhood watchman came that I learned about this. Originally, Old Master Lu… this shop was rented, but at the beginning of the month, he spent all his savings to buy it outright.”

Huang Zixia looked up at the pair of elaborate wedding candles on the counter, finally unable to hold back, saying: “Second Brother Zhang, these wedding candles, Old Master Lu said before they weren’t for sale.”

“Yes, I thought, when Adi and I get married… we can use them ourselves,” Zhang Xingying said softly.

Huang Zixia nodded, feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

Li Shubai frowned slightly, saying: “With a crime punishable by execution of the entire family, I’m afraid this shop will also be confiscated.”

“No, this shop, Old Master Lu… after he bought it, he immediately sold it to me.” Speaking thus, he very anxiously took out several documents for them to see, “Look, here are the land deed, property deed, shop license… When Adi had just been released from the Court of Justice, he came to my home right after. I thought the ten strings of cash from exchanging that painting was Dicui’s bride price, so I put my fingerprint on the receipt he provided, but…”

This Lu Zhiyuan had arranged everything beforehand, this could be considered his acknowledgment of Zhang Xingying’s intentions.

Huang Zixia couldn’t help but sigh, asking: “So will you run the shop here?”

Zhang Xingying shook his head: “No, this is what Adi’s father left for her. I’ve already discussed it with my family. We won’t change the shop’s name, it will still be under Adi’s and my names. The income will be split three ways: one share for my brother and sister-in-law, who agreed to help mind the shop; one share for Adi, to be saved for now; and one share for me to take and search for Adi, for travel expenses… This way, even if I can’t find her, if one day Adi returns, she’ll be able to find her home, and wait for my return with my brother and sister-in-law…”

Huang Zixia’s eyes reddened involuntarily, asking: “What about your father? Does he agree?”

“When he was sick before, I was busy outside every day, it was Adi who took care of him day and night until he gradually got better. This time it was he who told me, if I can’t find Adi, don’t come back.”

Zhou Ziqin’s voice choked: “Second Brother Zhang, I believe Adi will return!”

“Better not come back for a few years, wait until the time is right,” Li Shubai looked at Zhang’s brother and sister-in-law cleaning the shop, then at the exquisitely crafted wedding candles, and added, “However, regarding this shop, don’t worry about matters with the officials, I’ll handle it.”

Zhang Xingying knelt in gratitude. Huang Zixia hadn’t expected Li Shubai would voluntarily offer to help Zhang Xingying, and stared at him in surprise, unable to speak.

Li Shubai turned his gaze toward her, and that face that was always calm and unruffled now showed the corners of his lips turning up slightly in a smile.

Like the dawn breaking, a touch of tenderness that made one’s heart skip a beat.

When the three of them returned, they passed by Jianfu Temple and went in together to burn incense and pray for blessings.

“May this journey to Shu be safe and smooth. May the culprit be brought to justice soon, and may my parents and family rest in peace underground.”

Huang Zixia pressed her palms together, praying softly before the Buddha.

The incense smoke curled upward, drifting over her face like mist veiling a peony, ethereal and dispersing.

Zhou Ziqin turned his head and saw her, couldn’t help but stare for a moment, quietly retreated a few steps, edged to Li Shubai’s side, and asked softly: “Your Highness, have you noticed…”

Li Shubai gazed at Huang Zixia from afar, asking: “What?”

“For a eunuch, Yang Chonggu is even more beautiful than a woman… What do you think he would be like if he hadn’t been castrated?”

Li Shubai froze for a moment, then casually turned his eyes away, saying: “Perhaps taller, darker, broader shoulders, more rugged features.”

Zhou Ziqin quickly reorganized Yang Chonggu’s frame and appearance according to what he said in his mind, then said regretfully: “Never mind, the current look is much more beautiful.”

As they came out, a group of monks in front of the main hall were using ropes to pull down the two giant candles that had been set up.

Zhou Ziqin ran up to ask: “Are you afraid they’ll be deformed by sun and rain, so you’re storing them in the warehouse?”

The monks were dripping with sweat from their labor, and while carefully managing the ropes, replied irritably: “Who has time to store them in the warehouse? We heard the craftsman who made these candles was a mass murderer, even Princess Tongchang died at his hands. How can we keep such things in Buddha’s pure land?”

Speaking thus, they together lifted the fallen giant candles and carried them to the now-empty liberation pond that had been drained of water.

A large pile of firewood had already been set up there. The pair of giant candles were thrown onto the woodpile, and as the great fire rose, the candle bodies quickly melted. The firewood, soaked with wax, burned with crackling sounds, the flames leaping up nearly ten feet high.

The monks gathered around the liberation pond, heads bowed, chanting sutras to purify evil spirits.

On a summer afternoon, the air was scorching, and waves of heat from the flames rolled toward them, almost hot enough to roast those standing nearby.

Zhou Ziqin quickly retreated two steps, calling out to Huang Zixia who remained standing there: “Chonggu, step back a bit, be careful not to get burned!”

But Huang Zixia seemed not to hear. She stood motionless by the fire, watching as the melting wax revealed the candle wick. On the hemp cloth wrapped around the reed core, written in gold paint was a line of small characters—

May my daughter Lu Dicui have a smooth life, peaceful and joyful.

Respectfully offered by the faithful Lu Zhiyuan.

She stood before the roaring fire, watching this line of text Lu Zhiyuan had secretly written inside the candle. This was supposed to be an offering before Buddha, a secret that would never be known until the candle burned completely.

At this moment, the golden characters curled and peeled in the high temperature, all secrets consumed by the great fire, leaving only gray-black flakes that floated up lightly in the fire’s updraft, scattering in the air, leaving no trace behind.

Buddhist chants sounded softly all around, Sanskrit verses rising and falling.

The evening light of Chang’an gently enveloped its million inhabitants.

The dusk of the Great Tang had arrived.

—The End of Nine Phoenix Deficiency—