Zhou Ting rushed back to his residence from the Night Patrol Bureau through the rain. He didn’t even carry an umbrella as he crossed the courtyard and climbed the steps, looking up to see his mother, Lan Shi, sitting properly in the hall drinking tea.

“Mother.”

Zhou Ting entered, rain continuously dripping from his hem. “You summoned me back so urgently—what is the matter?”

“If I didn’t say there was something, would you have returned so quickly?” Lan Shi spoke while observing his pale complexion. She reached out to be helped to her feet by an attendant and walked closer to him, using an embroidered handkerchief to wipe the rain from his face and body. “Son, aren’t you still injured? You just won’t listen to me and refuse to recuperate at home for a few more days.”

“Mother, I’m fine.”

Zhou Ting shook his head. “You needn’t worry about me.”

Though Emperor Zhengyuan had not yet issued a clear decree to replace private promissory notes with official ones, Zhou Ting’s days had been far from easy. He had experienced all manner of ostracism both open and covert, assassination attempts from time to time. The injuries on his body had not been received all at once, but he had never explained this clearly to his mother, only saying they resulted from official duties.

“You are my son—how can I not worry? You father and son are both such tight-lipped gourds, telling me nothing. He’s been an official in Wanjiang for so many years without coming home, and though you’re in the capital, you’re rarely home either. How long do you expect me to guard this household alone?”

Lan Shi handed the damp handkerchief to an attendant beside her. “Dingzhao, you wouldn’t come home when your father was in the capital, and you’ve barely returned since he went to Wanjiang either. I know you’re afraid I’ll say certain things, but Dingzhao, we are your parents—would we harm you? We’re not afraid of others laughing at our family because you entered the Night Patrol Bureau as a military officer. What we fear is that you’ve chosen the wrong path. Look at all those officials—who doesn’t take pride in being a civil official of the pure stream? Your superior is a eunuch. Even if someone else becomes Director of the Night Patrol Bureau, it will still be a eunuch. How could it ever fall to you? Living like this, can you ever have your day in the sun?”

“Mother,”

Zhou Ting lowered his eyes. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll return to the Night Patrol Bureau first. Things have been busy lately. When I have time, I’ll come back to see you.”

Seeing him bow in farewell and turn to leave, Lan Shi called out to him again. “Dingzhao, you’re already twenty-three this year. If there’s someone in your heart, you should tell me.”

Hearing this, Zhou Ting turned back to meet Lan Shi’s gaze.

Lan Shi sat down again in her chair and received a tea bowl from an attendant, blowing on the tea leaves floating on the surface. “I’ve heard some gossip that you’ve had considerable contact with that Miss Ni who beat the Complaint Drum to seek justice for her brother.”

Hearing her mention Ni Su, Zhou Ting couldn’t help but step forward twice, frowning. “Mother, such rumors were mostly deliberately fabricated by Wu Dai back then to frame us because of Wu Jikang. My acquaintance with Miss Ni is entirely due to the Winter Examination case.”

“I’m not asking you about that. A young lady’s reputation is extremely important—don’t you think I understand that? Today we’re closing the door for a private mother-and-son conversation. Well, today I went to see that young lady.”

Lan Shi sipped her hot tea.

Zhou Ting’s heart tightened. “Mother, why did you go to see her?”

Lan Shi smiled faintly. “I didn’t go to make things difficult for her. I just wanted to see what kind of young lady she is, unafraid even of torture and death.”

“I saw that she has excellent looks and appears quite likable.” Lan Shi set the tea bowl on the table and carefully observed Zhou Ting’s expression. “Dingzhao, our family is small and we don’t have so many rules. For an orphaned young lady to do so much for her brother—she’s an extremely rare girl. If your heart is inclined toward her, Mother can help make it happen.”

“Dingzhao, tell me—what are your thoughts on this matter?”

Zhou Ting’s mind was in turmoil. He looked at his mother’s face, and accompanied by the pattering rain, he was about to speak when he suddenly remembered something. He immediately said: “Mother, Bureau affairs are pressing. I must go now.”

Before Lan Shi could react, she saw he had already stridden quickly out the door.

Chao Yisong was yawning outside the Zhou residence when he heard hurried footsteps. He immediately ran forward with an umbrella. “Young Lord Zhou, where are you going?”

“South Sophora Street.” Zhou Ting mounted his horse, the wounds beneath his robes tearing open somewhat, which he ignored as he asked Chao Yisong: “Why didn’t you tell me my mother went to South Sophora Street?”

“Madam… told me not to say. She said she would tell you herself when you returned.” Chao Yisong spoke with somewhat less confidence.

Because of the open and covert targeting of Zhou Ting by court officials lately, Chao Yisong had brought a group of personal guards to watch over the Zhou residence to prevent anyone from making a move against Lan Shi.

“Don’t you know what situation I’m in lately?”

“What…”

Chao Yisong froze for a moment before belatedly reacting. “Sir, you’re worried that after Madam’s visit, those people will set their sights on Miss Ni…”

Before he could finish, Zhou Ting had already spurred his horse forward.

“Quick, you few follow Young Lord Zhou!” Chao Yisong’s expression became much more serious as he immediately summoned several people with this command.

Because it was raining and dusk was falling, the sky was dark and there weren’t many pedestrians on the street. The sound of hoofbeats was urgent and clear. Zhou Ting quickly reached South Sophora Street, but after knocking on the medical clinic’s main door several times, no one answered.

A Fang from the medicinal herb shop across the way watched him for a while before walking out to call: “Are you looking for Sister Ni?”

Hearing this, Zhou Ting turned around to see a girl of twelve or thirteen across the way. He walked forward, his robes nearly soaked through by the rain. “Do you know where she went?”

“She went to Eternal Peace Lake.”

A Fang said.

The night curtain of the rainy day descended quickly. Ni Su held willow branches and carried an umbrella as she walked back. Her shoes and socks were already soaked through and uncomfortable, and her skirt hem was also stained with some muddy water.

Some remnant lamps still glowed by the lakeside, illuminating the puddles at her feet with rippling light. Ni Su looked down to see thin mist gathering around the edges of her sleeves.

The rain had only stopped for a while from last night to this morning, then started again in the afternoon. Xu Hexue had only managed to complete the kite’s bamboo frame when he and Ni Su made a trip to the Jiang residence in the afternoon. After talking with Censor Jiang, upon returning he could no longer maintain himself and his body transformed into pale mist, difficult to take form.

Ni Su had lit many lamps and sat alone under the eaves corridor until she discovered the willow leaves at home were depleted, which was why she came out to Eternal Peace Lake to gather willow branches.

The sound of rain was incessant and irritating.

There were no pedestrians by the lakeside, only clusters of light in the distant oilcloth canopies. In the moist rainy mist, occasionally there was also the fragrance of food.

“Is that her?” In a patch of pitch-black shadow, a pair of eyes spied on the young woman’s back.

“Yes.”

Another hoarse voice responded. “There have long been rumors that she and Zhou Ting are involved. Our people saw with their own eyes—today Zhou Ting’s mother Lan Shi entered this woman’s medical clinic. A joyous occasion is likely near.”

“Joyous occasion?” That person laughed coldly, sinisterly. “If Zhou Ting truly values this woman, we’ll turn the Zhou family’s joyous occasion into a funeral!”

Raindrops fell on cold blades as more than ten people with half their faces wrapped in black cloth lunged forward.

The sound of feet splashing in rain was heavy. Almost the instant Ni Su heard these sounds, she turned around, just as cold light flashed before her eyes. In but a moment, she was completely surrounded by these sword-wielding people whose faces were unclear.

“What do you want to do?”

Ni Su remained relatively calm.

“If you obediently come with us, we naturally won’t take your life.” The lead black-clothed man’s voice was rough.

“Why should I go with you?”

Ni Su saw the pair of eyes exposed on that man’s face, extremely fierce.

That black-clothed man didn’t plan to say more to her. With just a lift of his chin, someone beside him advanced with a blade, the edge pressing against Ni Su’s neck. But his force was so great that the blade’s back struck heavily on Ni Su’s shoulder and neck, making her stumble and fall into the rainy ground.

“Elder Brother, to lure Zhou Ting here, we need a token. This isn’t an obedient woman. I say we cut off one of her hands and send it to the Zhou residence.”

The hoarse-voiced man narrowed his eyes, using the blade’s back to pin Ni Su down in the rain so she couldn’t rise.

“Do it.”

The leader gave the order. Immediately two people came to hold Ni Su down. The oilcloth canopy in the distance was still quite lively. Ni Su opened her mouth to cry out but was tightly covered by a hand, the force almost crushing her bones.

One of her hands was pressed firmly to the ground, her palm pierced by willow branches fallen on the ground. She saw that blade raised high. Under the faint lamplight, the edge revealed a sharp, thin, cold gleam.

Ni Su’s eyes widened. With her mouth tightly covered, she could only make muffled sounds. Her palm curled into a fist, and the willow branch’s edges cut another long gash across her palm.

The blade descended. Ni Su shut her eyes tightly.

A piercing wind brushed her face, nearly blowing the rain askew. The muffled sound of a blade entering flesh came, followed immediately by a short, agonized cry.

Ni Su only felt something warm and wet touch her cheek. She opened her eyes at once. The color dripping onto her skirt was deep red. Belatedly, she realized it was blood.

Smoke and rain interwove. The young man in light azure robes stood before her, his eyes utterly lifeless. His form was very pale, so pale that even these killers accustomed to murder and bloodshed couldn’t help but feel their hair stand on end, their whole bodies trembling.

They didn’t dare approach. Their instinctive reaction was to flee, which instead made it convenient for Xu Hexue to locate them by sound. In the long misty haze, in this secluded place, even the rain couldn’t entirely mask the various cries of agony.

Xu Hexue’s figure alternated between dense and faint. He listened carefully—there was no longer any extraneous sound. Only then did his sword-gripping hand relax slightly. The long sword shattered into fine glowing dust, merging into his body.

He remembered the direction where he had touched her earlier and walked forward several steps. “Ni Su?”

Corpses lay everywhere on the ground. Ni Su hardly dared look. Even that night in the alley when he went to rescue Jiang Xianming, she hadn’t seen very clearly from outside. This was the first time she faced such a bloody scene so directly.

He was actually very close to her now—close enough that Ni Su could reach out and tug at his sleeve.

Xu Hexue sensed her force. The unhealed wounds on his body made his crouching motion somewhat difficult. His entire being was somewhat faint.

Just as he was about to speak, Ni Su suddenly threw herself into his arms.

Xu Hexue’s whole body stiffened, yet he felt her trembling. Her warm breath was at his collar, her suppressed sobbing very close to him.

Xu Hexue pressed his lips together. His form was difficult to maintain. He lightly patted her shoulder in silent comfort.

“Is there a lot of blood on my face…”

She murmured in a trembling voice.

It was the blood of the person who had nearly severed her hand.

Xu Hexue couldn’t see, but he fumbled to gently wipe her face with his sleeve.

The damp fabric, his ice-cold fingers—Ni Su’s face was cupped in his hands. She raised her eyes but suddenly felt the sensation on her cheeks completely disappear. His form thinned into mist.

Ni Su immediately looked at her own sleeve. Rain dripped down from her jaw. The mist clinging to her sleeve was still there, hadn’t disappeared.

Hoofbeats sounded, approaching from far away.

Zhou Ting seemed to see two figures in the distance from afar, but for some reason, when he drew near there was only that young woman sitting dazed on the ground. Corpses lay spread across the rainy ground, and she sat amid winding streams of blood, eyes downcast.

“Miss Ni!”

Zhou Ting dismounted and strode quickly before her.

Ni Su raised her head, her pale face covered in rain and dew.