When Yan Qing returned home, the Yan Mansion was exactly as she had expected — a heavy cloud of gloom hanging over everything, and every lamp in the hall where her father sat burning bright.

Fugang had returned ahead of her and relayed the full account of events. Yan’s father had gone pale with shock. Wen Xu was his brother-in-law, and Wen Yan was the daughter he cherished most. If something were to happen to Wen Yan in Shun Cheng, he would have no way to face Wen Xu — let alone face the spirit of Wen Wan in the afterlife.

Yan’s father made a swift decision, dispatching every available man at his disposal and simultaneously notifying the staff of every major pharmacy, mobilizing them all to join the search.

When he saw Yan Qing return, her father and Wen Xu rushed toward her. “Qingqing, any news? Have they found Wen Yan?”

Wen Xu’s eyes were red and raw, panic stripping away all his composure.

“We already know where she is,” Yan Qing said, reassuring him. “The people involved are gang members — we can’t afford to spook them. The plan to bring her back is still being arranged, but the person I spoke to has promised to bring Wen Yan home.”

At these words, both her father and Wen Xu exhaled in deep relief.

Wen Xu was so overcome with gratitude that his eyes filled with tears. “Qingqing, thank goodness for you. If not for you, Wen Yan would have…” He thought of what Wen Yan might be enduring at this very moment, and grief welled up so fiercely he barely managed to hold back his tears.

Yan Qing quickly took his hands. She sniffed and said softly, “Uncle, Wen Yan is my sister. No matter what, I will bring her back safe.”

“Yes.” Wen Xu nodded firmly. He wasn’t sure when it had begun, but he had come to rely on this niece of his in a way that went beyond anything ordinary.

“Good, good.” Her father also relaxed. “Xuehai, go and rest for a bit. I’ll have someone keep watch here and inform you the moment there’s any news.”

Xuehai was Wen Xu’s courtesy name.

Wen Xu shook his head — he was in no state to rest. “I’ll wait here. I won’t be able to sleep until I see Wen Yan.”

Wen Yan was the daughter his late wife had left him — a daughter he had cherished and doted on since childhood. Because of his bond with her mother, he had always given this girl an extra measure of tenderness and affection.

“Father,” Yan Qing said, “please have someone prepare some funds. I’m afraid if Wen Yan isn’t found tonight, those people may come to demand a ransom. If they do, I don’t want us caught off guard.”

“I’ll see to it immediately. Whatever sum they ask for, the Yan Family will pay it.” Her father spoke with conviction. “As long as she comes back safely, everything else is secondary.”

“Thank you, brother-in-law.” Wen Xu clasped his hands in a grateful bow toward Yan’s father. “This money — I will repay it in full.”

“We are family. No need for such formalities. I’ll go make the arrangements now.”

Yan’s father went to prepare the funds. Yan Qing sat with Wen Xu in the parlor to wait. The room was warm with the heat of the floor hearth, but thinking of Wen Yan, Yan Qing felt a chill deep within.

The longer this dragged on, the more danger Wen Yan was in. Those men were desperate criminals — no one could guarantee they would keep their hands off her.

The waiting was agonizing. Wen Xu had already paced back and forth across the parlor more than a dozen times, pausing every few steps to peer anxiously toward the door.

Shortly past two in the morning, the sound of approaching footsteps came from outside. Both Yan Qing and Wen Xu felt a sudden surge of hope — someone had come with news.

Wen Xu opened the door and stopped, momentarily stunned by who stood there.

Through the crack of the opening door, Yan Qing could see the visitor as well. He was dressed in a dark military uniform with a greatcoat draped over his shoulders, his officer’s cap pulled low, the brim casting a shadow over a pair of long, penetrating eyes.

“Shi Ting?” Yan Qing immediately pushed forward in her wheelchair, her face breaking into undisguised delight. “Captain Zheng said you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.”

Shi Ting still carried the dusty weariness of a long journey. When he stepped inside, he brought the night’s cold air with him.

He handed her a pocket watch. “The ‘tomorrow’ you’re referring to is already today. It’s two in the morning. What Zheng Yun told you was correct.”

Even so, Yan Qing had already pieced it together. Zheng Yun must have told him everything, and he had rushed back through the night without stopping. Thinking of the long, exhausting journey he had endured — arriving in Shun Cheng only to come straight to her — she felt both moved and quietly aching for him.

“I’ve heard what happened.” Shi Ting removed his greatcoat and draped it over a nearby chair.

Yan Qing quickly picked up the small kettle warming on the charcoal brazier, poured a cup of hot water, and set it before him.

“The Third Commandment Hall is indeed a branch of Xing Gang — but unlike the other branches. Its purpose is to gather those who wish to join Xing Gang and train them in gang rules and operational practice. Because of this, it is less strictly disciplined, and its members tend to act without rules. Tonight’s abduction of Miss Wen for ransom, for instance, would never be sanctioned under Xing Gang’s official code.”

Wen Xu was an ordinary merchant. He knew nothing of the inner workings of these gangs — ordinary people simply avoided them entirely.

“Xingzhi, what can be done now? Without proper organization or discipline, who knows where they’ve hidden her. Finding Wen Yan won’t be easy.”

“Uncle, please don’t worry,” Shi Ting said. “Now that I’m back, I won’t let anything happen to Wen Yan.”

There was that particular confidence that was distinctly his — like the most effective sedative.

Sure enough, Wen Xu’s relief was immediate. “Xingzhi, I’m counting on you entirely.”

“Long Yunxiao’s people are already searching,” Yan Qing added. “He has informants inside the Third Commandment Hall.”

She meant to suggest that Shi Ting’s people might coordinate with Long Yunxiao’s and combine their efforts for greater efficiency.

Shi Ting, however, looked over at her. His expression was calm — unreadable, utterly neutral. “I have someone more reliable than him.”

She couldn’t say why, but Yan Qing sensed a faint strangeness in his tone. She chose not to dwell on it. “Also a gang connection?”

Shi Ting shook his head. “I already asked Zheng Yun to contact this person by telephone. Barring anything unexpected, Wen Yan should be back soon.”

Both Yan Qing and Wen Xu looked up in surprise.

Shi Ting picked up the cup of tea in his hand — already mostly cooled — and drank it down.

Yan Qing had many things she wanted to ask, but now was not the time. She held back and kept quietly refilling his cup instead.

She refilled, he drank. Refilled, drank. When the teapot finally ran dry, she looked at him with mild bewilderment. “That thirsty?”

“When it comes to tea that you pour,” Shi Ting said, “how could I leave any behind? Even if you gave me another pot, I’d drink every drop without blinking.”

Yan Qing gave up and didn’t refill again. She believed he genuinely would. The Commissioner seemed particularly stubborn tonight — far more so than usual.

He had barely finished that pot of tea when footsteps sounded outside again. Wen Xu, who had not even closed the door in his anxious vigil, rushed to meet whoever had come.

It was Jin Shan.

“Miss Wen has returned,” Jin Shan said as soon as he stepped inside. “She’s just outside. She’s had a fright and has been injured. Mr. Wen, please make arrangements.”

The moment Wen Xu heard his daughter was hurt, he lost all composure and strode outside in great steps — so quickly he nearly stumbled.

“How serious are the injuries?” Yan Qing asked immediately.

“She struck her head. It’s been treated and bandaged. The doctor says she’ll need several days of rest and observation.” Jin Shan had been thorough in his preparations, bringing a doctor along precisely to ensure Miss Wen’s safety. Thanks to that foresight, the bleeding was stopped in time.

At that moment, Dihuai also came rushing in. Seeing Shi Ting there, whatever he had been about to say lodged in his throat and refused to come out.

“Go ahead and speak,” Shi Ting said, his voice even.

Dihuai managed to say: “Miss, Mr. Long has sent a message through his man, saying that Miss Wen has been brought to safety.”

Yan Qing glanced at Shi Ting. He was holding his empty cup, studying the painted design on its side with great concentration — as though it were some priceless work of art.

She pressed her lips together and looked away. “Tell Mr. Long’s messenger that Wen Yan has already come home. As for expressing my gratitude in person — when the opportunity comes, I intend to call on him and —”

Before she could finish the words call on him to thank him, Shi Ting — who had been absorbed in examining the teacup — abruptly cut in: “Inform Long Yunxiao’s man that Wen Yan was brought back by my people and is already out of danger. As for his assistance tonight, I, Shi, am deeply grateful. I will personally accompany Miss Yan to call upon him at a future time and offer my thanks in person.”

If Yan Qing had suspected before that Shi Ting’s reactions this evening had been somewhat peculiar, this settled the question entirely.

She didn’t look at him. She simply pushed her wheelchair forward and headed for the door.

Shi Ting saw her leaving and immediately rose to his feet. “Where are you going?”

“To see Wen Yan. The vinegar fumes in here are overwhelming — it’s so sour I can feel my teeth dissolving.”

The Commissioner knew perfectly well who she was referring to, yet he shamelessly walked over to push the wheelchair anyway. “Is that so? I don’t smell anything.”

Yan Qing smiled and said nothing. Inside, she simply thought: childish.

Wen Yan had been brought to her own courtyard by then. Two maids were gently cleaning the dirt from her face and hands.

Shi Ting couldn’t enter, so Yan Qing went in alone.

“Uncle, how is Wen Yan?” The moment Yan Qing entered, her eyes went straight to Wen Yan on the bed. A fresh bandage was wound several times around her forehead, a faint trace of blood seeping through.

Her heart ached. She moved quickly to the bedside and called softly: “Wen Yan?”

Wen Yan heard her voice, blinked, and slowly turned her head. When she saw Yan Qing’s face, she burst into tears with a sudden, unrestrained sob.

Yan Qing clasped her hand and murmured soothingly: “It’s over now. You’re safe. This is the Yan Mansion, and the Commissioner is here. No one can threaten you anymore.”

Wen Yan had been thoroughly terrified. She clung to Yan Qing and wept for a long while before she finally quieted.

Yan Qing took a handkerchief and dabbed at her tears, her voice firm. “Those people will be punished. The suffering you’ve endured will not go unanswered.”

Wen Yan nodded, still catching her breath.

When Yan Qing had entered, she’d taken quiet note of Wen Yan’s clothing. She was still wearing the outfit from the lantern fair — somewhat soiled and disheveled, with visible tears in the fabric.

She caught Wen Xu’s eye and gave him a meaningful look. He understood without a word. Red-eyed, he called the two maids away, withdrew, and pulled the door closed behind him.

—