After a long while, they heard the soft sound of wooden clogs and turned to see Zhang Xingying leading Dicui by the hand from inside. Dicui wore blue cloth shoes with soft wooden soles, adorned with a pair of facing hibiscus flowers that she had embroidered herself with exquisite skill.

In the dazzling afternoon sunlight, Dicui’s delicate frame stood in the intense rays, her skin—untouched by sun—almost blindingly white.

She bowed to them under the grape trellis: “Brothers, I am… Adi.”

Huang Zixia stood and returned the bow, saying, “Miss Adi, your culinary skills are truly outstanding. Ziqin and I have shamelessly imposed on you again—please don’t mind us.”

Dicui returned the bow and seemed to want to say something, but in the end, just nodded and sat down under the grape trellis with a lowered head.

Zhou Ziqin stood up and said, “Brother Zhang, didn’t you say Uncle was feeling better? Why don’t you take me to visit him?”

Zhang Xingying glanced at Huang Zixia, nodded to Dicui, and then led Zhou Ziqin inside and upstairs.

Huang Zixia sat with Dicui under the grape trellis. Dicui fidgeted nervously, twisting her fingers and keeping her head down.

Huang Zixia asked gently, “Miss Adi, may I ask you something?”

Dicui kept her head down but eventually gave a slight nod.

“Your gulou dumplings are so delicious—what’s your secret?”

Dicui hesitated before slowly raising her head to look at her.

Huang Zixia smiled at her warmly and said softly, “I used to dislike them, finding them a bit gamey. But after tasting the ones you made, the flavor lingered wonderfully… To be honest, I think your cooking skills must be the best in Chang’an!”

Dicui gazed at her relaxed, cheerful smile, her heart settling slightly. She bit her lower lip gently and said in a voice barely above a whisper, “My… my mother died of postpartum hemorrhage after giving birth to me. I started cooking very young, so… so perhaps I just became skilled with practice…”

Huang Zixia nodded slightly and asked, “With your mother gone so many years, did your father never remarry? Why did you have to do all the cooking?”

“Well… my father had a difficult temperament.” She continued speaking vaguely, “When I was seven or eight, my father brought home a refugee woman, saying she would bear him a son. I… I was afraid of that woman. She beat and scolded me all day, but I knew she was meant to give my father a son, so I didn’t dare say anything… Later, when my father got drunk and started hitting people, she couldn’t take it anymore and left…”

Huang Zixia had no words to evaluate Lü Zhiyuan as a man, only saying, “That’s probably for the best, or you would have suffered more.”

“Yes… yes, so later, as my father got older, he… gave up on that idea.”

Huang Zixia asked, “Then how did you end up unconscious on the mountain path?”

Dicui bit her lip hard, her chest heaving rapidly. Just when Huang Zixia thought she might break down crying, she finally spoke in a hoarse voice: “My… my father took money from someone, wanting to marry me to someone I didn’t like. So I took a rope, planning to end my life on the mountain path, but I fainted there instead… That’s why I stay in Brother Zhang’s home and don’t dare go out, afraid… afraid my father might see me.”

Huang Zixia remained silent, not exposing the lie, and only gently comforted her: “Don’t worry. Brother Zhang is honest and upright, and he cares for you deeply. I believe all your past troubles are behind you now, and your future life will surely be happy and blessed.”

She nodded tearfully, her wet lashes hiding her eyes most pitifully.

Huang Zixia asked further, “I heard Brother Zhang took you to Jianfu Temple to burn incense the other day. There was such chaos at Jianfu Temple that day—were you both alright?”

At these words, Dicui’s hands suddenly clenched, then slowly relaxed after a while. She choked out, “We were fine. That day… I didn’t want to go originally, but the neighbor lady told Brother Zhang it would be good to pray at the temple before marriage, so I wore a veiled hat and went with him.”

Huang Zixia nodded and said, “I’m helping the Court of Judicial Review investigate this case. If you’re comfortable, could you tell me about what happened?”

Dicui slowly nodded but hesitated for a long while.

Huang Zixia didn’t rush her. After quite some time, she said, “Brother Zhang and I… heard that a eunuch was burned to death that day.”

Huang Zixia asked softly, “Where were you at the time?”

“We… we saw the main hall was too crowded, so we walked toward the back hall. We had only taken a few steps when suddenly there was a commotion behind us. I looked back and saw the fleeing crowd surging like… like a tidal wave. Brother Zhang quickly pulled me along as we ran, and later we squeezed into a corner and just stood there against the wall…”

Her head was bowed very low, and her pale face showed a slight flush. Looking at her expression, Huang Zixia suddenly remembered Li Shubai protecting her in his arms that day amidst the crowd.

She wondered if Zhang Xingying had done the same, protecting this reed-like delicate young woman beside him.

“Later… later when the crowd dispersed, we heard someone had been struck by lightning in front. Brother Zhang…” She hesitated here, then bit her lip lightly and said softly, “He said being struck by lightning must be terrifying, so we shouldn’t go look… So, we went home.”

Recalling what she and Zhang Xingying had said before, Huang Zixia’s voice grew somewhat somber: “So you were together the whole time and didn’t know who was burned to death?”

“Later… I heard it was… a eunuch from the Princess’s manor.” Her hands clasped tightly together, her voice dry and difficult, “I… I thought at the time, he must have done evil deeds to meet such retribution, otherwise, why would heaven’s lightning strike him among so many people…”

Hearing her grieving, struggling voice, Huang Zixia, though reluctant, had to say: “Miss Adi, you’re lying.”

She trembled suddenly and raised frightened eyes to look at Huang Zixia.

Huang Zixia said softly, “To be honest, I was at Jianfu Temple that day too. From what I remember of the situation, I don’t think you could have easily squeezed out of the crowd, and your veiled hat certainly couldn’t have stayed on in such chaos. And how could someone like you, who’s so afraid of being seen, overlook losing your hat?”

Dicui fell silent, her pale face turning ashen, her tightly clasped hands falling limply onto the stone table.

“Miss Adi, I advise you not to hide things from me. Zhou Ziqin is also asking Brother Zhang about what happened then. If your stories don’t match, it will only cause more trouble.” Though Huang Zixia felt reluctant, she still asked, “By my guess, you must have witnessed the eunuch being burned to death, didn’t you?”

“Yes… we were in the main hall then.” Dicui finally answered tremulously, knowing she couldn’t hide it from her. “It was very crowded, and Brother Zhang noticed there was more space near the incense burner and candles, so he pulled me through with difficulty. Indeed, there was space there, but it was roped off. Then someone bumped me from behind, and my veiled hat fell inside the rope circle around the candles. I was… I was terrified and immediately crouched down covering my face, afraid people would see me. Brother Zhang told me to wait and quickly stepped over the rope to get my hat near the candles…”

At this point, she unconsciously hugged her head again, her narrative becoming fragmented, like muttering to herself: “I was crouching there holding my head when suddenly there was a tremendous crash—lightning had struck the candles. The massive shock wave knocked me to the ground, with screaming people fleeing all around. Brother Zhang ran over and grabbed me, quickly patting out the sparks on my clothes, and protected me as we ran out. I saw my hat in his hand, but in the chaos, I couldn’t even reach out to take it… Just as, just as we had run a few steps, I heard a scream that rose above all other shouts, more piercing than any other.”

That desperate wail made her feel her heart and gut were being torn apart, and she couldn’t help but look back.

She saw, among the dispersing crowd, a person completely engulfed in flames. Not just his clothes—his entire body was burning, from head to fingertips to shoes. He didn’t look like a person made of flesh and blood, but rather like a straw man soaked in pine oil, burning fiercely.

She saw his face, and even though it was twisted and terrible from the flames, she still clearly recognized who this person was.

The eunuch Wei Ximin, who had beaten her unconscious and abandoned her in the street, led to her life’s tragedy.

Zhang Xingying covered her eyes with his hand, saying hurriedly, “Don’t look.”

She bit her lip and turned away during Wei Ximin’s piercing screams, following Zhang Xingying as they rushed out with the crowd.

They finally squeezed into a corner, where Zhang Xingying protected her as they pressed against the wall to avoid being trampled by the crowd.

She suddenly noticed he was still tightly clutching her veiled hat.

For some reason, tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. She silently took the hat and put it on her head.

The crowd had mostly dispersed, and Wei Ximin had fallen silent—he must have been burned to death.

Zhang Xingying took her hand and said, “Let’s go.”

His hand was broad and warm, holding hers with complete acceptance, as if he would never let go.

Dicui had related the general events, omitting only the fact that she knew Wei Ximin.

Huang Zixia, hearing no obvious flaws in her account, thanked her.

Zhou Ziqin, who had been upstairs for a long while, came down with Zhang Xingying, saying cheerfully, “Uncle’s spirits are truly lifted by this good news—he’s recovered so quickly, that’s wonderful!”

The four of them sat together to finish the cold soup, and seeing it was getting late, Huang Zixia bid farewell to Zhang Xingying and Adi.

After leaving their house, Huang Zixia and Zhou Ziqin exchanged what they had learned from their questioning.

Huang Zixia related Dicui’s account, and Zhou Ziqin said, “I also asked Brother Zhang about what happened at Jianfu Temple that day, and his story matches. They were indeed at Jianfu Temple when it happened, and he was right by the candles retrieving Dicui’s hat when Wei Ximin was burned to death. They witnessed Wei Ximin’s death.”

Huang Zixia nodded: “That’s what Dicui said too.”

“Brother Zhang said he didn’t know it was Wei Ximin at the time and didn’t see how Wei Ximin caught fire.”

“We should keep that point in question,” Huang Zixia frowned and said. “Let’s have the Court of Judicial Review’s people help us investigate when Brother Zhang learned about this, and whether he didn’t know about Dicui’s situation before Wei Ximin’s death.”

Zhou Ziqin nodded, saying excitedly, “It feels great to have a whole group of Court officials at our disposal.”

Huang Zixia gave a weary look at this carefree person, thinking about how he couldn’t even command his own servant, and fully understood his current enthusiasm.