Personal guards from the Night Patrol Bureau quickly arrived to clean up the corpses by Eternal Peace Lake. Zhou Ting brought Ni Su back to the South Sophora Street medical clinic and heard his subordinates report: “Young Lord Zhou, we’ve examined them all—they all have sword wounds.”

Ni Su was a weak woman with no martial arts foundation—how could she wield a sword? But Zhou Ting remembered that in the dim rainy curtain, he had originally seen another figure, yet for some reason when he rode close, he only saw Ni Su alone.

The wounds beneath his collar had torn open, blood clinging to the fabric in an uncomfortable stickiness. Zhou Ting gave no sign of this as he turned to look at the young woman wrapped in a cloak, lighting lamps in the room.

Her legs still seemed somewhat weak, her steps very slow, and she appeared still somewhat dazed. After lighting the lamps, she sat at the table, head lowered, motionless.

Zhou Ting walked in, poured a cup of hot tea and placed it before her, then immediately stepped back two paces and bowed with clasped fists: “Miss Ni, I apologize. This matter has implicated you because of me.”

Ni Su barely regained her senses, recalling what those assassins had said by Eternal Peace Lake. “Young Lord Zhou, I don’t understand—why did they think capturing me would lure you in?”

Zhou Ting was silent for a moment before saying: “My mother came here today, and combined with the rumors Wu Dai deliberately spread earlier about you and me, they thought you and I…”

As the words “have feelings” left his lips, Zhou Ting raised his eyes to look at the woman before him with damp hair and pale lips. His hand gripping the sword hilt inexplicably tightened as he suddenly recalled the questions his mother Lan Shi had asked him.

The moment Ni Su heard his first sentence, she immediately thought of the woman who had visited today. So that had been Young Lord Zhou’s mother.

“But why did your mother come here?”

Zhou Ting paused, still concealing his mother’s intentions, only saying: “She heard about your situation and always wanted to meet you. Miss Ni, this matter is a calamity that befell you without cause. From today on, I will dispatch people to protect you nearby. If you have any needs, please don’t hesitate to ask me. As long as it doesn’t violate the law, I will certainly help.”

“That won’t be necessary, Young Lord Zhou.”

Ni Su shook her head. If Night Patrol Bureau people came to guard again, how would she be convenient to go out with Xu Ziling, to light lamps for him, to guide his way?

Zhou Ting hadn’t expected her to refuse. He froze, then said: “If not, I worry they’ll use the same trick again. Today I was already a step too late. I wonder—who was it that saved you?”

Just a silhouette in the night rain, Zhou Ting’s mind remained fixed on it.

“I don’t know.”

Ni Su lifted the tea bowl but didn’t drink. “I didn’t even see him clearly.”

Not knowing whether Zhou Ting believed her, Ni Su waited a moment before hearing him say: “If that’s the case, I’ll investigate this matter. Please rest assured, I will never let these people go.”

She said she didn’t know, so Zhou Ting couldn’t ask further. After all, this matter arose because of him. He wouldn’t demand the woman before him give him a definite answer as he would when interrogating corrupt officials in the Night Patrol Bureau.

As he took his leave, Zhou Ting saw Ni Su hadn’t changed her soaked clothing and reminded her: “Miss Ni, be careful not to catch cold. Also, this is medicinal ointment bestowed by the palace for the Night Patrol Bureau’s use.”

He took a porcelain bottle from his breast, its surface stained with some blood. He wiped it away with his fingertips and placed the bottle on the table, glancing down to see the blood-red gash across her palm. “If it’s inconvenient for you, I…”

“I can manage myself, thank you, Young Lord Zhou.”

Ni Su raised her eyes to look at him.

The lamplight in this room rippled, reflected in her clear eyes. Zhou Ting looked at her, then immediately averted his gaze. “Good.”

Such a deep gash, yet her eyes only reddened slightly without tears, just as when Zhou Ting first saw her in the Night Patrol Bureau. She wasn’t a woman without fear in her heart, but her fear had never made her weak.

After Zhou Ting left, Ni Su changed into clean clothes and sprinkled medicinal powder on her wound, simply wrapping it with a strip of cloth. After completing this, she didn’t leave the room.

This was Xu Ziling’s room. On the desk lay several volumes of books he often read, brush, ink, paper and inkstone all neatly arranged. The room held a faint fragrance that brought peace of mind.

Ni Su removed her shoes and wrapped herself in his quilt, her eyes fixed on the flickering candle flame. The night rain fell as she called out: “Xu Ziling.”

Pale mist floated but never formed into his figure.

As dawn approached and the clouds dispersed with the rain clearing, Ni Su slept deeply in the bed. Through the lattice window that hadn’t closed last night, cold damp wind blew in, extinguishing the last remnant candle in the room.

Pale mist condensed into a thin figure. His pallid fingers closed the lattice window, and the light azure curtain in the room stopped swaying.

He walked to the bedside. The young lady in the bed had disheveled black hair, several strands clinging to her fair cheeks. Half her face was pressed against the quilt’s edge, and after this night, the pillow had ended up in her arms.

One hand extended from beneath the quilt, the cloth wrapped around it extremely loose, revealing the wound on her palm with its fresh red scab.

Xu Hexue turned to see the porcelain bottle on the table. With his soul body fragile and bearing the marks of punishment, from taking the medicine to returning to sit by the bed, he moved very slowly.

He sprinkled medicinal powder on her palm, found clean cloth, and carefully wrapped her wound. Throughout the entire process he was very gentle.

Listening to her shallow breathing, after completing these tasks Xu Hexue placed his hands on his knees but couldn’t help gazing at her face.

Her brow suddenly furrowed.

Xu Hexue heard her lips move slightly in dream-talk, her voice blurred. He couldn’t help but lean forward, drawing closer. Her warm breath brushed lightly as she murmured: “Xu Ziling…”

Xu Hexue’s spine stiffened. After a long while he sat upright.

Daylight gradually brightened, slanting in through the lattice window. He sat quietly in this light, his brows and eyes cold as snow-covered pine branches, yet his heart pondered her dream.

This dream she was having now, about him.

Xu Hexue suddenly heard the sound of fabric rustling. Looking up, he saw that Ni Su, who had just been sleeping, had now opened her eyes. She was holding up the hand that had been re-bandaged, examining it.

“I dreamed of you.”

Ni Su’s voice carried the hoarseness of not yet being fully awake.

Xu Hexue’s throat bobbed once. “Mm.”

“Why don’t you ask me what I dreamed about you?” Ni Su looked at him. His form was still somewhat faint, the daylight falling on him pale and cold.

“What?” he asked.

“I dreamed about last night at Eternal Peace Lake. The only difference was that you turned into mist and then disappeared.” Ni Su hugged his pillow. “Fortunately, when I woke up, I saw you right away.”

Water droplets remaining in the roof tile gaps dripped, lightly striking at Xu Hexue’s heart and mind. After a long while, he said: “When that day comes, I won’t leave without saying goodbye.”

His voice was restrained and calm.

Ni Su was silent for quite a while, instinctively avoiding the two words “parting.” She looked toward the closed lattice window. “It seems to have stopped raining.”

But the kite wasn’t finished yet.

The sky cleared. Xu Hexue’s soul body was weak. Whatever time he could barely maintain human form, he used to make the kite or examine account books. He had memorized all the official position changes over fifteen years for those dozen officials obtained from the Jiang residence. The only connection among these dozen names was the route between Daizhou and Yongzhou from fifteen years ago.

Fifteen years ago, they had all been officials along the route from Daizhou to Yongzhou.

Understanding this point wasn’t difficult. The difficult part was that although these officials had received promotions over fifteen years, none were in the capital. To investigate meant going to Daizhou.

“Neither you nor I need to go to Daizhou. Among these dozen people, there’s one who was demoted to Fengzhou the year before last, named Qian Weiyin. This man was once my classmate. We exchanged letters during festivals and holidays, but last year he suddenly disappeared from his post, whereabouts unknown. Yet last night, I received a letter in his hand, saying he’s right here in this area, asking me to come, saying he has something to tell me.”

Jiang Xianming stood before a dilapidated dwelling, speaking in a low voice to the young man and woman beside him.

Old Neizhi held a lamp for him, while Ni Su and Xu Hexue each carried a glass lamp. Beneath their veiled hats, their eyes simultaneously watched the crooked, barely hanging courtyard gate.

“I have no martial experts around me, which is why I asked you to come, young sir.” Since the last assassination attempt, Jiang Xianming had become much more cautious.

Xu Hexue said nothing, using his sword sheath to push open the courtyard gate. Inside was pitch black. Only after they entered did some light appear in the courtyard.

This was a long-neglected, dilapidated courtyard. Weeds filled the brick crevices and dust lay extremely thick.

“Old Qian, I’m Jiang Xianming. Where are you?”

Jiang Xianming looked around but saw no one, so he simply raised his voice.

But after waiting a long while, Ni Su heard no movement. The lamplight illuminated sheets of spiderwebs under the eaves, swaying slightly in the night wind.

“Old Qian?” Jiang Xianming’s brow furrowed as he couldn’t help suspecting he was being toyed with.

Yet the handwriting on that letter was indeed written by Qian Weiyin himself—he shouldn’t have misidentified it.

Xu Hexue suddenly turned his face, his eyes fixed on the pitch-black main hall. He keenly detected some faint sounds, then quickly ascended the steps. Warm yellow lamplight spread into the main hall following his steps. Ni Su saw his sword blade leave its sheath, and soon a person stood up from amid that pile of miscellaneous items in the shadows.

He wore ragged clothing, his hair loose, his beard nearly covering half his face. His entire appearance looked both wretched and dejected.

“Jiang Xianming, I trusted you enough to risk finding you—why did you bring these people!” That person stood with his neck stiff, not daring to move, his voice carrying some anger.

“You’ve been missing for a year. When I suddenly received your letter, how could I not be suspicious? Old Qian, these are all trustworthy people. You needn’t fear.”

Jiang Xianming lifted his hem and followed Ni Su into the hall. He first looked him over before speaking again: “Why don’t we discuss why you sought me out?”

Xu Hexue sheathed his sword. Only then did Qian Weiyin seem relieved. Seeing Jiang Xianming’s bright, clean clothes, he examined his own beggar’s attire and couldn’t help smiling bitterly. “Among our old friends, you’re the only one living in glory.”

“You abandoned your post and fled—was it because of Du Cong or the person above him?” Jiang Xianming didn’t beat around the bush, asking directly.

Hearing these words, Qian Weiyin’s eyes immediately showed a trace of shock. “You… what do you know?”

“You should have already heard about Du Cong’s matter. His account book is in my hands. Recently, I also examined a secret ledger from Manyu Bank.” Jiang Xianming had been worried about how to continue this investigation, but unexpectedly when he was drowsy, someone brought a pillow—this Qian Weiyin who had fled his post had come to him voluntarily.

“Old Qian, these years you’ve sent quite a bit of money into Du Cong’s hands. Yet among all of you, you alone were demoted.”

These words struck right at Qian Weiyin’s pain point. His expression turned ashen as he sighed deeply. “That’s because I truly had no more money to give.”

“You achieved your position through proper imperial examinations—why don’t you know to value yourself?” Jiang Xianming’s heart was complex. When he had associated with this man years ago, he had still been a high-spirited person full of ambition.

“Value myself? How should I value myself?” Qian Weiyin, in his filthy ragged clothes, no longer had the refinement of his former official days. He sat down hard on the ground. “Jingnan, sixteen years ago I was already in the mire.”

“Sixteen years ago, Du Cong—that is, Du Sancai—received an imperial decree to take military provisions from Daizhou’s granaries and transport them to the Yongzhou border. That year, you served as Vice Magistrate in Daizhou.”

Qian Weiyin suddenly heard the voice of the young man in the veiled hat. His expression changed as he turned to look at that person.

“Qian Weiyin, your mire—could it be Daizhou’s granaries from sixteen years ago?”

Xu Hexue stared at him through the veiled hat.

Qian Weiyin fell silent.

Hearing “sixteen years ago,” and hearing Xu Hexue mention Du Cong transporting provisions sixteen years ago, Jiang Xianming’s heart leaped. Shocked and uncertain, he immediately said: “Old Qian, you asked me to meet you—wasn’t it to explain the circumstances to me?”

Qian Weiyin looked at the straw sandals on his feet. He recalled fleeing his post, recalled hiding and skulking all this way. His throat felt tight. “Yes, I entered the mire starting from Daizhou’s granaries sixteen years ago.”

“That year, General Yujie was battling the Danqiu barbarians at the border. His Majesty issued a decree commanding nearby Daizhou to open its granaries to provide emergency military provisions to the border. But Jingnan, Daizhou had no grain…”

“How could there be no grain?” Jiang Xianming couldn’t believe it. “I’ve seen past memorial reports from Daizhou. That year’s Daizhou Prefect clearly stated grain reserves were abundant, which is why His Majesty issued the order commanding Daizhou to release grain for emergency relief.”

Qian Weiyin nodded. “That memorial wasn’t wrong. The stored grain originally was sufficient, but His Majesty’s birthday was approaching, and Daizhou was building a Daoist temple. The silver allocated by the court wasn’t enough. The Prefect worried about missing the deadline, so he thought of a method—open the granaries to sell grain and temporarily solve the urgent problem. If His Majesty hadn’t suddenly issued a decree commanding Daizhou to open the granaries for provisions, we would still have had a chance to cover this matter up.”

“The court’s grain—you dared sell it?!”

Jiang Xianming was both shocked and angry.

“When Du Cong arrived, there was no grain left. We faced death, and he, delayed on the road for some days, also faced death. But he told us someone could protect us from harm.”

“Who?”

Qian Weiyin shook his head. “To this day I still don’t know who it was. The grain carts Du Cong transported to Yongzhou were empty. Only we knew of this matter. He escaped the death penalty, and we followed him in escaping it. Because of this matter, we were bound together with Du Cong from then on. Those who obeyed could receive promotions. Those who didn’t obey, who dared go to the capital—all died on the road.”

“Then why do you now dare to risk your life running to Yun Jing?” Jiang Xianming said coldly.

“Among these people, there was one who climbed higher than me. He violated my daughter.” Qian Weiyin’s eyes moistened as he curled his hand into a fist. “The year before last, she died.”

“Jingnan, I don’t want this life of mine anymore. I only ask you—do you dare handle this matter?”

Do you dare?

Jiang Xianming was speechless for a moment. After a long while he said: “Come with me first.”

Ni Su hadn’t spoken all along, but she had been listening to the conversation between Qian Weiyin and Jiang Xianming. After Jiang Xianming took the man and drove the carriage back, she and Xu Hexue walked along the road with their lamps, noticing he was unusually quiet.

“With Qian Weiyin to testify, why does Censor Jiang hesitate?”

Ni Su broke the tranquility between them.

Xu Hexue came to his senses. “Even if Jiang Xianming dares submit a memorial, His Majesty will very likely ignore this matter, or even possibly charge him with a crime.”

“Why…” Ni Su’s words stopped abruptly. She suddenly understood. After the grain in Daizhou’s granaries was sold off, all the money was used to build the Daoist temple in Daizhou for His Majesty. Daizhou’s granaries bound those dozen officials to death. None of them dared mention this matter precisely because they all knew very clearly where the root of this matter lay.

Raising the matter of Daizhou’s granaries again would be tantamount to accusing the sovereign father.

Jiang Xianming dared raise it, but would His Majesty dare acknowledge it?

“Then your matter, wouldn’t it be…” The taste in Ni Su’s heart was indescribable.

If even Jiang Xianming didn’t dare, who else under heaven would dare?

Xu Hexue didn’t speak. To this day, he had finally clarified the truth of the provisions case. The silence of a dozen officials had caused the thirty thousand Jing’an Army’s provisions to be completely cut off, forcing them to endure hunger as they took the field.

“General, oh little presented scholar! Just listen to me and eat this half piece of flatbread! You gave all yours to the men below—what will you do yourself?”

In his memory, someone stuffed a hard, long-kept half piece of flatbread into his hand.

“That’s really unappetizing, Xue Huai.”

He tossed the flatbread back into his arms. “I only eat flatbread from the Pang family shop in Yongzhou city.”

“Come on, General, don’t think I don’t know—you just want me to eat it.” Xue Huai said these words with a very hearty laugh.

That half piece of flatbread was finally broken in two.

Xu Hexue no longer remembered what that flatbread tasted like. He only remembered it was truly unappetizing.

Enduring hunger on the battlefield wasn’t actually the truth of what caused the Jing’an Army to be slaughtered at Shepherd God Mountain. Xu Hexue had sustained war through war, using barbarian provisions to feed his own soldiers. Only the beginning was difficult; afterward, the deeper into barbarian territory, the less the army needed to endure hunger.

But Xu Hexue believed the person above Du Cong behind the provisions case was absolutely connected to the serious crime of treason imposed on him and the Jing’an Army.

“Xu Ziling.”

Suddenly, Xu Hexue heard the person beside him call. He raised his eyes to see Ni Su had stopped walking, her eyes seriously examining him. He only felt his clothes and cap were on his body, yet certain things already had nowhere to hide.

“In life, the official your teacher hoped you would become was a civil official, and when you say you failed him, you mean you became a military official in Yongzhou?”

If not for this, Ni Su couldn’t understand what else could make him hate Du Cong so much, or what connection the provisions case those dozen officials had concealed could have with him.

Xu Hexue had once not known how to tell her about his identity, but starting from this matter with Jiang Xianming, he no longer avoided the topic with Ni Su.

She was an intelligent woman. Hearing tonight’s events, how could she not think of this?

After this, she would know he wasn’t merely a military official, but also the General Yujie mentioned by Qian Weiyin.

Night wind blew Xu Hexue’s sleeves. His pale white shadow and her dark shadow were clearly distinct in the lamplight. “Will you believe me?”

“Believe what about you?”

“I…”

Xu Hexue’s throat moved slightly. However much the world slandered and misunderstood him, he truly didn’t take it to heart. But only Ni Su before his eyes caused worry and longing to arise in his heart.

He said: “Ni Su, I truly, very much want your trust.”