Luowei followed the crowd along the street near Fengle Tower. Along the way, she slipped into a money exchange house and changed her outfit. Taking advantage of the dense flow of people on the street, she shook off the palace guards following close behind her and made her way to a secluded stretch of the Bianhe river, where she boarded a black-canopied boat that Ye Tingyan had arranged to wait for her there.

The small boat was moored beneath a solitary bridge downstream on the Bianhe. The snow on the bridge had yet to melt, and droplets of snowmelt fell one by one, dripping onto the canopy above.

As soon as she stepped aboard, Ye Tingyan draped a large black cloak over her head and shoulders. Inside the cabin there was a brazier of burning charcoal for warmth, yet the boatman who would pole the vessel was nowhere to be seen.

Luowei glanced around and asked, “Are you planning to wait until late at night before heading back?”

Ye Tingyan gave a soft sound of agreement. “Though Chang Zhao will certainly guess you are in my residence, he still has to put on a show for everyone else. If he loses your trail, most of his men will likely be stationed at the gates of the various wards and the checkpoints along the more secluded waterways. Let us wait here a while. Once he has put on enough of a performance and withdraws his men, we can go back.”

Luowei stretched her hands toward the brazier to warm them, and recounted in careful detail her exchange with Chang Zhao a short while ago.

“Just as we suspected — this man has his own ulterior agenda. He spoke with wild arrogance, yet I keep feeling that his words were not mere empty boasts.”

Ye Tingyan clasped her hands in his and lowered his eyes in thought.

Luowei noticed that his hands were far colder than they used to be. She wasn’t sure if it was because he had been waiting here too long.

She couldn’t help but grip his hands firmly in return. Listening to his long silence, she asked again, “Do you feel uneasy?”

Ye Tingyan gave a bitter smile. “And would you not feel uneasy?”

Luowei let out a sigh and nodded. “I had originally thought that his only leverage in the capital was Song Lan’s trust. But now it is clear — he surpasses Song Lan and then some. There was one thing he said that was not wrong: we underestimated him. His earlier reticence and his maneuvering in every direction — it was all, I fear, preparation for this very day. Second Elder Brother…”

She suddenly called out this name she had not used in so long. Ye Tingyan gave a start at hearing it. “Yes?”

Luowei asked, “What do you think it is that he wants?”

Ye Tingyan considered carefully and said, “My boldest guess before tonight was that he wanted the world. But having heard all of this, I must add two more words to that guess — what he wants is for the world to descend into great chaos.”

Luowei’s expression grew somber. “I feel the same way. Speaking of which — back when I was still in the palace, I always suspected there were spies from the Ezhen tribe within the inner court.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but every time the northern frontier grows restless, it is always when sudden upheaval erupts at court — the death of Yu Qiushi, Shu Kang’s departure from the capital, the remonstrance of the Jingqiu affair… Previously, when I had Yanshao stationed outside Luoyang to watch for movements on the northern frontier, it was precisely a test of this suspicion, and sure enough — whenever there is even the slightest disturbance in our court, they will attempt to stir up trouble along the border.”

“While I was in the palace, I once dispatched many people in secret to investigate, but unfortunately all they uncovered were small-time operatives. According to their confessions, there must be a person of high rank and great power heading them. It is precisely because this ringleader could not be found that Yanshao absolutely had to return to Youzhou — if he were not there, I could never feel at ease.”

Ye Tingyan asked, “Do you suspect that Chang Zhao is a spy for the Ezhen tribe?”

Luowei shook her head. “This man plays the humble and subservient role, yet at heart he is arrogant and proud. I doubt he would sell himself out for a foreign people — at most, they are using each other for mutual gain. Besides, he only arrived in the capital during the spring examinations two years ago, whereas the ringleader spy must have been lurking here for many years. He hides himself extremely well. From the time I first noticed this matter in the early years of the Jinghe reign, up until now, he has not revealed even the slightest crack.”

“I have asked Yuanming to continue the investigation,” Ye Tingyan said. “The northern operations have been running for many years — we cannot afford to lower our guard. Though Song Lan has been pouring money and grain into massive military training these past years, what he envisions is still far too simplistic. Apart from the Yan family’s army, the rest of the country has not seen combat in a long time, and the troops in various regions have grown lax in their training. Compared to the foreign peoples, who live and breathe warfare, they fall far short.”

He closed his eyes. “The court ministers, the common people, the Yan brothers commanding the Imperial Guards — their authority is merely nominal. Although the Zhuque is half in my hands, Chang Zhao may well have a backup plan within the capital. Six months… even though he gave a verbal promise, it is still only a promise. How can we rely on it to hold that man in check? With urgent matters, one must act expediently — there is no telling when he might go back on his word. Leaving such a person in the capital — how could we possibly feel at ease going south?”

If the court had only Song Lan to contend with, Ye Tingyan could naturally have placed his trusted men within the Imperial Guards and then taken Luowei south to call up troops and return to the capital. After washing clean the Jiangnan officialdom by leveraging the Shen Sui affair back in those days, he had already made arrangements in both Jiangsu and Zhejiang — it was his contingency plan to prevent the Yan family’s army from triggering unrest once it left the northern frontier.

But after Yu Qiushi’s death, Chang Zhao appeared without warning and utterly disrupted his plans. Now, beyond guarding against Song Lan, the two of them had to worry about whether Chang Zhao, left alone to hold the capital, might give rise to some other calamity.

After a long moment of deliberation, Ye Tingyan spoke. “Under the present circumstances, the only course is to have our forces in Jiangnan break themselves into small groups, disguising themselves as merchants, scholars, and refugees, and make their way gradually into the capital.”

“It is indeed inappropriate for the two of us to leave at this time. Yet for them to slip in undetected would take several times longer. Six months… it is truly a gamble,” Luowei said.

The two of them had been sitting inside the black-canopied boat for some time. The brazier before them was visibly cooling. Ye Tingyan pulled the cloak more tightly around her and said in a cold voice, “After today — kill Chang Zhao first.”

Luowei pondered and said, “This man’s intentions are impure — keeping him around is indeed too great a risk. But… how can we eliminate him without bloodshed? Song Lan still holds the command seal for the capital garrison. If he detects our plans before our people enter the city, everything we have worked for will come to nothing.”

Ye Tingyan sighed. “Give me time to think it over.”

Someone leaped onto the black-canopied boat, called out “Young Master” from on deck, and then immediately took up the pole and steered the vessel away from beneath the bridge.

It was still the final days of winter. Luowei heard the faint sound of the wooden boat cracking through the thin ice.

Ye Tingyan was lost in thought, turning the current situation over in his mind. His hand tightened slightly around hers, and Luowei suddenly noticed how cold his hand was. She hurriedly spread open the cloak and drew his shoulder into her embrace.

The warmth from her body reached him. Ye Tingyan paused for a moment, then reached out and ruffled her hair with gentle playfulness. “Only now did you think of me?”

He reached out and lifted her, settling her sideways across his lap. Luowei had no choice but to reach up and wrap her arms around his neck, letting herself rest her cheek against his chest.

Though his hands were ice cold, his chest was still burning warm. She breathed in a familiar scent and heard the sound of his heartbeat resonating from within his ribcage.

That heartbeat grew more and more rapid with her closeness.

Luowei suddenly felt a sense of peace that she could not quite describe.

She lifted her head to look at him.

Despite a heartbeat like that, Ye Tingyan’s face remained perfectly composed. Noticing her movement, he even deliberately tilted his head down and arched an eyebrow — in that instant, her mind conjured up the image of the young minister in green robes at Gaoyang Terrace. He had arched his brow looking at her, pressed an ambiguous kiss to her palm, his expression hovering between a smile and something more — alluring as a bewitching spirit on a spring night.

Back then, she had been completely taken in by his disguise, unable to perceive that the rakish charm on that beautiful face was mere concealment.

In truth, not only was his heart racing at such a pace, but the tips of his ears had gone entirely red.

This discovery amused Luowei greatly. So she mirrored his manner, deliberately leaning close to his ear and breathing lightly. “I’ve found that you have changed a great deal over these years. In the past, you were flustered even at a simple embrace. Yet now all these flirtatious tricks come so effortlessly to you.”

Ye Tingyan’s throat moved almost imperceptibly. He replied with perfect composure: “Is that so? I feel that you have changed a great deal as well.”

Luowei reached out and touched his face, narrowing her eyes. “How have I changed?”

Ye Tingyan said, “You are drawn to beauty. When you saw me at Gaoyang Terrace — were you not immediately captivated by my appearance?”

Luowei paused, then nearly burst out laughing. She glanced toward the outside of the cabin and dropped her voice even lower. “On that point you are quite wrong. I have never changed — I have always been drawn to beauty.”

Ye Tingyan caught the hand she had placed against his face and asked, with an air of apparent gentleness, “And which do you prefer — now, or before?”

Luowei felt she could almost hear the sound of him grinding his back teeth.

And so she decided to be a little more candid and stop teasing him. “The inner palace has no shortage of beautiful people. Gaoyang Terrace… was our old place of leisure. The fact that I was willing to meet you there — naturally it was because I had spotted a crack in your disguise from the very beginning.”

Ye Tingyan was taken aback, and heard her continue with a note of mild reproach: “Even though your disguise bore not the slightest resemblance to who you once were, you were quite careless — how could you not have changed your incense?”

He suddenly understood why Luowei had been so insistent on drawing the blue bed curtains shut. A wave of bittersweet joy welled up in his heart, though he said aloud, “No wonder—”

Luowei asked, “No wonder what?”

Ye Tingyan let out a low laugh and did not answer. He simply pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

As the black-canopied boat glided forward through the sounds of flowing water and splintering ice, Luowei continued, “No matter how you change, I can always see the moon.”

Ye Tingyan held her tighter.

In that moment, he suddenly felt that even if he were to lose everything as he once had — adrift in a black-canopied boat on a winter’s night, carried downstream in flight — as long as the person he had come to depend on was still in his arms, he would believe with certainty that there was a moon tonight, and believe with certainty that when the sun rose tomorrow, he could accomplish everything he had ever set out to do.

Just as he had in his youth.

The black-canopied boat rocked gently and nudged up against the riverbank. Ye Tingyan suddenly said, “Spring is almost here again.”

Luowei said, “Next spring, I want to plant another crabapple tree outside the window of Qionghua Hall.”

After learning of the Valley Tour Mountain affair, Song Lan had come alone one night to Qionghua Hall, sat there until dawn, and upon his departure the following morning, had issued an order — for reasons unknown — to chop down every crabapple tree there.

Now the crabapple trees that Song Ling had planted one by one each year of her life outside Qionghua Hall had all been felled. The crape myrtle flowers bloomed listlessly, while common eulalia grass that grew in mountain fields and wilderness had taken root among the weeds there — and was thriving.

Ye Tingyan held her in his arms and stooped to emerge from the canopy, and suddenly noticed — whether from excessive worry or the poison Song Lan had administered — that she had grown so thin.

Thinking of that poison, which Bai Sensen had still not been able to identify, his grip stiffened slightly. He did not set her down, and instead carried her step by step toward the residence.

Fortunately it was nighttime — she likely couldn’t see how his eyes were burning with pain.

“The matter of Chang Zhao — I will find a way,” Ye Tingyan said, forcing down the torrent of emotion within him, his voice gentle. “Since we have made a six-month pact with him, he has no way of knowing our next move and will not act rashly. At the very least, the retrial of the Citang case should proceed roughly as we intend. You should rest well for a while.”

“…In my garden, I have also planted quite a few crabapple trees.”

He carried her to the small side chamber behind the study where she was staying, and set her down on the couch. Luowei had been silent the whole way, and he did not know what she had been thinking. He was just about to say a few more words when she reached out, as he once used to do, and caught hold of the sash of his robe. With a slight tug, she pulled him toward her.

Before Ye Tingyan could speak, Luowei leaned close to his ear and said with playful mischief, “Lord Ye — in such a hurry to leave? And the cloak you gave me… are you not going to take it back?”

These recent days, she had called him “A’Tang” far more often, causing him to nearly forget this absurd form of address. But now that the knot between them had been untied, hearing it again hardly bothered him — instead, he found it rather amusing. “Does Her Highness wish to return it to me?”

After their embrace and kiss, Luowei finally felt the warmth return to him — and by the end he was flushed and perspiring. She looked up through the fragrant heat at the bed curtains of pale green silk gauze. He had always, even from his youth, been a man of refined tastes and meticulous care, and even the arrangement of these curtains carried its own subtle artistry.

And it was only tonight that she saw it clearly: through the pale green silk gauze, faint shadows were visible — a crape myrtle blossom, drawn there, taller even than herself.