The small tavern had only four dishes — all modest, with little in the way of richness or fat.

The wine, however, was excellent. One didn’t need to look at the bubbles in the cup; the fragrance alone told you everything.

Zhang Tang was a man who almost never drank. But today’s wine was an invitation he himself had extended.

Fang Biechen sat across from him, somewhat at a loss.

“This wine is on behalf of the brothers of the Court, for General Fang.”

Zhang Tang filled Fang Biechen’s cup, a trace of sheepishness on his face.

“The General may not know this — I’m actually a man who is poor at conversation. When handling a case, I talk more. But otherwise, I…”

He poured a cup for himself as well, then raised it. “Please.”

Fang Biechen lifted his cup. The two men drank together.

“In private, I have almost no social life to speak of. Not with outsiders, and not even with the people of the Court. We’ve never shared wine off duty.”

Fang Biechen asked: “Did Prince Ning send the Deputy Chief Justice to find me?”

“No.”

Zhang Tang said: “I simply wanted to share a cup of wine with the General myself.”

Fang Biechen straightened in his chair. “Forgive my presumption — is there something you’d like to entrust to me?”

“No. I came to offer General Fang an apology.”

He rose, stepped back, and clasped his fists in a deep bow. “I am sorry, General Fang.”

Fang Biechen immediately stood and reached out to steady him. “Deputy Chief Justice, what is the meaning of this?”

Zhang Tang said: “Yesterday someone came to ask General Fang whether Jiang Wei should be allowed to see you before he died — whether you wished to meet him or not.”

Fang Biechen nodded. “They did come and ask. I said it was fine to meet, but not just the two of us — I said I could go when he was to be executed and observe.”

Zhang Tang shook his head. “So I had Jiang Wei put to death in secret.”

Fang Biechen was taken aback.

Zhang Tang said: “The General should know that not meeting is better than meeting. Prince Ning and the Chief Justice’s meaning was: the decision is entirely in General Fang’s hands — don’t feel pressured.”

“But I thought — someone still had to take this burden from the General.”

“For General Fang to meet him,” Zhang Tang said, “would not have been good for the General.”

Fang Biechen was silent for a moment. He sat back down, poured himself another cup, then let it spill across the floor.

“Please, sit.”

He had poured the wine in offering, then looked up at Zhang Tang. “I understand the Deputy Chief Justice’s meaning. Everyone has a role to play. Some people must remain in the light — in word and deed, in all things. Pure.”

“I need to be a man of the light. At the very least, in others’ eyes, I must be a man without blemish.”

He clasped his fists. “My thanks.”

Zhang Tang said: “In truth, I shouldn’t have come to see General Fang either…”

Before he could finish, Fang Biechen said: “The Deputy Chief Justice need not feel guilty. I understand the intention. But… could you tell me where the body was buried? If it can be told.”

Zhang Tang nodded. “It can.”

Alive — better not to meet. Dead and gone, visiting a grave perhaps served no purpose either.

“If the General wishes to go… I would ask that…”

“I know. Go quietly, without witnesses.”

Fang Biechen exhaled slowly and heavily. Then he poured a third cup and raised it: “This cup is to thank the Deputy Chief Justice for taking the trouble to come and tell me personally.”

—

By the time he left the little tavern it was already dark.

Fang Biechen didn’t know where he wanted to go. He simply wandered, without destination, through this city of Daxing he still didn’t fully know — and without realizing it, found himself in a place he shouldn’t have come.

A small courtyard appeared ahead. It was where Ding Weilu lived.

Fang Biechen froze, then gave a rueful smile.

At that moment, a slight figure in the shadows was watching him, apparently just as surprised to find him here.

—

Shang Jiuying had escaped alone. Not one of her eight subordinates had managed to leave the Eastern Palace.

She hadn’t gone to the agreed rendezvous to wait for her people to regroup — she knew her subordinates were far beneath her in skill and would only slow her down.

She hadn’t gone to New Garden to look for an opportunity to seize Dowager Consort Xiahou either — she knew that Xue Lingcheng and Jiang Wei couldn’t be relied upon. They might have drawn the Court’s men away to give her time, but once they fell into the Court’s hands, they’d be no different from any other operative. They likely couldn’t hold out against the Court’s interrogation.

The Court had Zhang Tang — “the ghost’s ghost,” they called him. She dared not gamble on the chance that Zhang Tang couldn’t break Xue Lingcheng and Jiang Wei.

So now her only goal was to get out of Daxing alive. And even that was no simple thing.

The city-wide search was ongoing. Every street was thick with Ning Army soldiers. Court operatives were scouring the city everywhere she turned.

To get out, she needed someone to clear the way.

After turning it over from every angle, the only person she could use was the woman named Ding Weilu.

She calculated that by now, the Court’s guard around this small courtyard would be thinner than before.

There was a chance.

Then Fang Biechen appeared out of nowhere, and Shang Jiuying’s nerves snapped taut. She found a hiding place and dared not stir.

Fang Biechen stood there and didn’t move — neither leaving nor approaching the courtyard. Shang Jiuying’s patience slowly eroded.

If this man didn’t leave all night, she would have to hide here until dawn — which meant real danger.

Because of Fang Biechen’s inexplicable presence, Shang Jiuying changed her plan.

She decided to gamble on a larger risk.

—

New Garden. The Court of Judicial Review.

Gao Xining returned from her godmother’s residence, weary, and let out a long breath once she was back in her room.

She had mobilized every elite operative the Court possessed — including all the centurion-grade officers — and positioned them all around her godmother’s quarters on full alert.

Until the woman named Shang Jiuying was caught, she could not afford to be careless.

“Chief Justice — please don’t cry out. If you do, we may both come to grief.”

Shang Jiuying stepped out from the shadows, her voice quiet.

She had calculated it: if Jiang Wei and Xue Lingcheng had already broken under interrogation, then their plan to go after Dowager Consort Xiahou had certainly been exposed. So instead she had gone for Ding Weilu — intending to use her to get out of the city.

Her plan was for Ding Weilu to push her injured husband out of the city in a small cart, with Shang Jiuying hidden inside. It was a gamble, of course — she was betting that the Ning Army, knowing Ding Weilu’s identity, would relax their inspection and not lift the blanket covering her husband.

But then Fang Biechen’s appearance had disrupted everything.

So she decided to take the bigger risk. The Court would have pulled people to guard Dowager Consort Xiahou, leaving fewer people near Gao Xining directly.

Nothing would serve her better than getting a hand on Gao Xining. With the Chief Justice in her grip, leaving Daxing would be no problem at all.

She hadn’t known where in New Garden Gao Xining slept — but she was clever enough. First, eliminate the most dangerous location: scout for wherever the guards were thickest and the vigilance highest. That must be Dowager Consort Xiahou’s quarters.

Her luck held. She happened to see Gao Xining leaving from Dowager Consort Xiahou’s rooms.

“You’re Shang Jiuying?” Gao Xining asked.

Shang Jiuying nodded. “I don’t want to harm you. I know who you are — if I harmed you, Prince Ning would tear me to pieces.”

She was quite earnest. “I’m only asking for a way out. I’m asking the Chief Justice to cooperate: escort me out of Daxing. I give my word — I’ll never come back. I’ll even leave the Shu Region entirely and stop working for Military Governor Pei Qi. I only want to live.”

Gao Xining didn’t answer. Instead, she asked: “When you came in, you encountered no resistance at all?”

Shang Jiuying nodded. “None. I calculated that you would move all your people to guard Dowager Consort Xiahou.”

“That is exactly what I did,” Gao Xining said.

“Then please, Chief Justice, give me a way out. Escort me from the city now.”

“Let me ask you something first.”

“Don’t try to stall,” Shang Jiuying said.

“You’d be better off answering,” Gao Xining said evenly.

Shang Jiuying frowned. “What is it?”

Gao Xining asked: “You slipped in here with ease, found me directly, and met no resistance whatsoever. Does that make the Court of Judicial Review seem… entirely unfrightening?”

Shang Jiuying: “What do you mean?”

“Let me ask it differently then. How did you know — that I am Gao Xining?”

Shang Jiuying’s expression changed at once.

It was a trap.

She lunged forward immediately — whether or not the woman in front of her was really Gao Xining, she needed a hostage.

But as she moved, Gao Xining also moved — sweeping backward, her body light as a feather as she sailed away.

In the instant Shang Jiuying saw that movement, she knew it was over.

According to the Shadow Camp’s intelligence, Prince Ning’s wife, Gao Xining, was the Chief Justice but no martial artist. Her skills were ordinary at best — enough to handle three or five ordinary men. No more.

That was part of why Shang Jiuying had dared to take this gamble in the first place. If Gao Xining were a genuine master, she never would have come.

But the moment Gao Xining swept backward with that feather-light grace, Shang Jiuying’s heart lurched.

In the next instant, as she surged forward, a sharp pain erupted in her knee.

She understood immediately — she’d been hit by a hidden weapon.

A precise hit. The impact buckled her leg in an instant and threw off her balance.

As she toppled forward, Shang Jiuying spun and flung out a flying rope, hooking it around the eaves behind her, and strained to pull herself back.

Another quiet crack — her wrist was struck, and the sudden pain made her lose her grip.

A dark shape came charging toward her. Shang Jiuying drew her sword and thrust straight at the figure’s throat the moment it closed in.

Her martial skill was far from ordinary. Otherwise Pei Qi would never have placed such trust in her.

The thrust was fast, precise, and merciless.

She had also deliberately made herself look more helpless than she was — all to mislead the enemy.

But the figure charging at her neither dodged nor deflected. It simply grabbed the blade bare-handed.

A spray of sparks erupted before Shang Jiuying’s eyes. Her sword was twisted apart in that hand.

The sound of metal grinding against metal was sharp and grating. Those were not the hands of an ordinary human being.

The next instant, the figure grabbed her arm. Shang Jiuying wrenched backward.

Her sleeve was torn open in one instant, leaving several gashes — as though a beast’s claws had raked across it.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Shang Jiuying turned and fled.

She had barely turned when something ripped through her back. The figure had reached out and grabbed her.

In that split second, Shang Jiuying felt as though her entire back had been torn open — bones exposed.

Then she froze and dared not move again. Because that hand had seized her spine.

The pain of it was beyond what anyone who hadn’t experienced it could imagine. Five fingers seemed to sink into the flesh itself, gripping the vertebrae directly.

If she struggled even once more, it would be crushed.

The Gao Xining who had retreated now returned, walking slowly toward Shang Jiuying.

“Everything you calculated was perfectly logical. Because it was logical, I could calculate it too.”

She turned and looked back. Out of the darkness, another Gao Xining walked forward, unhurried.

The hidden weapons that had struck Shang Jiuying twice — both had come from Gao Xining’s hand.

She was genuinely no martial artist. But her hidden weapons were genuinely precise.

The false Gao Xining stood beside the real one, smiling. “Didn’t Mama say bringing me along would be useful? See? Told you it would be useful.”

She was Xiahou Yuli.

—