“But if Yuan Jue is from Suizhou, when did Master come to know him?” Qin Yao was deeply puzzled. Over the past eleven years, she had never once seen her master have any dealings with Yuan Jue. The very first time they had any contact at all was the previous occasion, when they joined forces to deal with Luo Cha.

And the two of them were clearly at odds with each other — whenever they were in the same place, there was always quarrelling and bickering.

“On one occasion, Master scolded him quite fiercely,” Qin Yao told Lin Xiao. “He even let the word ‘get out’ fly — I don’t know what the two of them were arguing about, but I heard Master say that even if it cost him a mountain of gold and silver, he had no need for Yuan Jue to meddle in his affairs—”

She had only half finished the sentence when something suddenly struck her. Her eyes flew wide open with shock, and she entirely forgot to go on.

Lin Xiao’s thoughts, however, were still lingering on that last phrase of Qin Yao’s.

A mountain of gold and silver? Qing Xuzi was not the sort of man given to extravagance — whether dealing with others or with himself, he kept things pared to the point of stinginess. What possible expenditure could be described as requiring a mountain of gold and silver?

He turned and saw Qin Yao tilting her head in puzzlement, her delicate brows faintly creased, clearly straining to recall something. Surprised, he said, “What is it?” Without thinking, he leaned toward her and raised a hand to smooth her brow with his fingertip, as though the gesture could somehow brush away the thoughts that troubled her.

Qin Yao came back to herself. She started to speak, then paused, quickly sorting through the tangle of her thoughts before she began again. “I’ve just recalled — that time when Master and Yuan Jue were quarrelling, Master suddenly blurted out a name. At the time there was no one in the room but Master and Yuan Jue. Looking back now, could that name possibly be Yuan Jue’s secular name?”

Lin Xiao was surprised by this discovery. He asked, “Do you still remember the name?”

If Qin Yao could remember it, it would naturally be of great assistance in their investigation of Yuan Jue’s background.

Qin Yao thought for a moment, then shook her head in dejection. “It was several months ago — I truly cannot recall it.”

Lin Xiao offered a reassuring pat on her shoulder. “Never mind. Even if it truly was Yuan Jue’s secular name, it has already been over twenty years, and he has been deliberate in concealing himself — it may not lead to any clues.”

After a pause, he added, “But since the Daoist does know Yuan Jue’s secular name, it stands to reason that he knew Yuan Jue before he entered monastic life. It’s just that for some unknown reason, the two of them have chosen to pretend they do not know each other.”

A deep unease welled up in Qin Yao’s eyes. “What do you think Master is hiding from me? Whenever I ask even a little, he gets so angry. I always feel as though Master has something momentous locked inside him — something he would not reveal even at the cost of his life.”

She was entirely at a loss in the face of her master’s stubbornness. Every time the matter came up, she could not help feeling a swell of resentment.

Lin Xiao said nothing. Life was certainly precious, but for certain people, there were things that stood above life itself — beyond any question of right or wrong, beyond any reckoning of worth — and when the moment came, they could cast everything else aside to hold firm to them.

One might well think that though Qing Xuzi was a man of the Daoist order, he was not necessarily able to see through the desires of the mortal world, nor free himself from the inner demons lodged in his heart.

Yet there was no way to say any of this to Qin Yao. After all, she trusted her master so deeply.

Seeing that Lin Xiao had not responded, Qin Yao fell silent in turn, leaning against his chest and turning things over quietly in her mind.

Winter days in Chang’an were always darkening early, and with the night wind rising, winter nights often felt both cold and gloomy.

But tonight was an exception. The night sky was utterly cloudless. The moon was nowhere to be found, but the stars were strewn like scattered snow upon black velvet, strikingly brilliant.

Since the hour was still early when they arrived at Prince Lan’s residence and the two of them stepped down from the carriage, the weather was not as bitingly cold as usual — the sharp urgency of hurrying home on a cold winter’s night was replaced by the ease and leisure of strolling through a spring evening.

Qin Yao, moreover, concealed behind her sleeve the fact that she was quietly clasping Lin Xiao’s hand, and the two walked along the path toward the inner courtyard with a smile.

Lin Xiao felt her warm fingers wrapped around his own. His expression did not change, but deep inside, contentment crept in like happy climbing vines. Even the white jade paving stones beneath his feet seemed more vivid and alive than usual, and he almost wished the path could go on forever.

A fragrance of unknown flowers drifted through the air, and all around was a deep stillness, broken only by the sound of two pairs of shoes treading across the ground. The tranquility was ineffably serene.

When they reached Yanbo Pavilion, Lin Xiao saw the surface of Youdan Lake shimmering with the reflected starlight overhead, like shining silver silk — truly beautiful as a vision from a dream. His heart stirred, and he drew Qin Yao toward the pavilion at the lake’s centre. “There’s no wind tonight, so you won’t catch a chill. Let’s take a walk by the lakeside.”

Qin Yao smiled and nodded.

They followed the winding covered walkway to the water pavilion, and Lin Xiao drew Qin Yao to sit beside the railing. He took her hands and held them, confirming that they were still warm, then set his mind at ease and asked, “Do you remember that time we watched the acrobatics show at Zuixiang Pavilion?”

Qin Yao thought for a moment. “How could I not remember?”

Come to think of it, that had been the very first time the two of them had worked together — they had been up against that woman who had posed as Cui Shi’s counterfeit nephew’s wife. Who could have anticipated that afterward, the two of them would go on to experience so very much together?

Lin Xiao drew Qin Yao close in his arms. “At that time, I was standing behind you, watching you lean against the window and gaze at the fireworks — and I thought to myself, if there could ever come a day when the two of us were together, sharing wine and watching the view, how fortunate that would be. What a pity that at the time, there was still a Zhu Qi’er standing there beside us, and it was clear you had not the slightest interest in me.”

Qin Yao raised her brows in surprise, then smiled. “So you were already thinking about me back then?”

Lin Xiao leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers, gazing at her without blinking. “Yes — actually, it was a little earlier than that.”

Qin Yao blinked. Being so close, her long lashes brushed against Lin Xiao’s. “That would be… when we were coming down from Mang Mountain?”

This concealed, unreadable man — in those first few encounters, she had not caught the slightest hint.

“Well, you were the one who didn’t catch on,” Lin Xiao said with a smile. He lightly captured her lips, the warmth of his breath carrying the pleasant fragrance of the peach blossom wine — the same flask the restaurant had brought to their table earlier during the meal.

He parted her lips and explored more deeply. Her lips seemed to hold a kind of magic: once he tasted them, he was loath to leave. But he still remembered why she had caught a chill a few days before, and restraining his desires, he contented himself with light, gentle caresses. Qin Yao, held firmly in place, could not help but wrap her arms around him. Though she savoured this restrained closeness, she was also conscious of the open, unscreened water pavilion on all sides and worried word might reach her grandfather-in-law’s ears, so she would periodically open one eye and cast a glance over Lin Xiao’s shoulder.

From her angle, she could look right past his shoulder and see the full canopy of stars shimmering in reflection over the lake. She had once read the astronomy books on geomancy in Qingyun Temple and knew that the brightest star was called the Northern Dipper. The scattered stars arranged opposite it were called the Mansion of the Dipper — formed of five stars and shaped like a curved ladle, governing life and death alongside the Northern Dipper, and also known as the Celestial Prison.

As she looked on, it was as though a shooting star streaked across her mind and suddenly lit everything up.

Lin Xiao very quickly noticed Qin Yao’s inner struggle and, assuming she was simply embarrassed, paused and coaxed her, “Chang Rong and the others won’t let anyone come near this place.”

But Qin Yao shook her head vigorously, her face flushed, and wriggled free from his arms. Her eyes were bright and sparkling as she seized his shoulders, trembling with excitement. “Weijin, I think I know what those mountain summits signify!”

Jade Gate Pass, Army Camp.

Inside the commander’s tent, Xia Di, clad in crimson robes and silver armour, was discussing with Wei Yuan Bo and a company of military officers the strategy for encircling and attacking Menghe in the mountains the following day.

His left arm was wound with white gauze, a bloodstain visible in the centre of it, yet his movements showed no sign of sluggishness. He stood before the map of Jade Gate Pass, pointing to a particular mountain peak and asking Wei Yuan Bo, “Is this the mountain you spoke of — Liang Mountain?”

Wei Yuan Bo nodded. “Liang Mountain is forbiddingly steep, and has long been known locally as a place that would give even ghosts cause to worry. Now that Menghe has led his men to take cover in that mountain, the position is as formidable as a single pass holding ten thousand armies at bay. Without striking by surprise and unconventional means, there is no chance of capturing Menghe in the short term.”

Xia Di narrowed his eyes.

Wei Yuan Bo continued, “General Xia, do not underestimate this Liang Mountain. I have heard that it is rich in natural produce — even if one were trapped within it for three to five years, there would be an inexhaustible supply of wild mountain fare to sustain oneself. Menghe was born in this place and knows the surrounding terrain in the finest detail. It seems he made careful and thorough calculations before choosing Liang Mountain as his retreat in the event of defeat.”

Xia Di gave a contemptuous laugh. “Hiding in the mountain like that, refusing to fight, endlessly cowering — it’s beneath contempt. We absolutely must find a way to flush him out.”

He deliberated for a moment, then asked, “What direction has the wind been blowing near Jade Gate Pass these days?”

The deputy general standing behind Wei Yuan Bo quickly replied, “For the past two days, it’s been an easterly wind.”

Xia Di curled his lips in an ominous smile. “Prepare plenty of fire material. Once the wind direction is confirmed, set fire to the mountain. Smoke Menghe out and roast him alive — then drag him down and be done with him.”

Wei Yuan Bo and the others clapped their hands in enthusiastic agreement. “An excellent plan.”

The group reached their decision and each withdrew to his own tent to prepare for the fierce battle the following day.

Wei Yuan Bo, reaching the tent’s entrance, saw two attendants standing guard outside. Though dressed in men’s clothing, both were far too strikingly beautiful in appearance — anyone with eyes could see they were young women in disguise.

Ever since Xia Di had come to Jade Gate Pass, these two serving women had always attended him at his side. Wei Yuan Bo had taken note of this repeatedly, and could not help but shake his head with private disapproval: “That second son of the Xia family is exceptionally clever and has a real talent for military command — but he carries far too much of the rakish, pampered manner about him. Even coming out to fight a war, he can’t do without serving women to attend him. No wonder the Emperor sent him to such a bleak and bitter posting to be tempered — though it’s possible Lord Wei Guo and the Princess Derong themselves petitioned for it, precisely to give their son more experience in hardship.”

With that thought, he walked away.

The two maidservants, dressed as male attendants, saw that no one remained inside the commander’s tent and slipped in silently, keeping their heads lowered and their breath held.

Xia Di was still seated at the table studying the terrain map of Liang Mountain. Neither of the two dared make a sound. One stepped forward at once to change the dressing on his injured arm, while the other carried a basin to Xia Di’s feet and carefully removed his shoes and socks to prepare a foot bath for him.

The pain in his arm kept disrupting Xia Di’s thoughts, making it impossible to concentrate. He set the map aside and leaned back in his chair, expressionlessly studying the two maidservants before him.

The one changing his bandage was unremarkable enough, but the one at his feet… a restlessness stirred inside him. The more he looked at the girl’s downturned face, the more she resembled Qin Yao. Not just her smooth, clear forehead and delicate chin — even the line of that upturned nose was crafted exactly as Qin Yao’s was.

A wave of discomfort rose in his chest. He forced his gaze away, but after a short while his eyes slid back to the maid’s face against his will.

Seeming to sense his scrutiny, the girl’s earlobes slowly reddened, and under Xia Di’s fixed stare, that flush spread, unbidden, across her neck and ears as well.

Xia Di stared as if lost in a trance, and his mind went back to that time when he had teased Qin Yao with words, and she had been flushed with irritation just like this — her fair cheeks coloured like rosy clouds, her eyes blazing brighter than any stars overhead, beautiful to a degree that had no limit, every expression as she upbraided him filled with such spirit and pride. From that moment she had taken root in his heart and could never be pulled out or moved.

He stared fixedly at the girl’s face so similar to Qin Yao’s, knowing full well it was self-deception, yet his desire rose like a wild beast breaking free from its cage, utterly uncontrollable.

“You — stay.” Just as the girl lifted the basin to withdraw, Xia Di suddenly broke the silence with an abrupt command.

The maidservant was completely taken aback. She stood where she was, momentarily stunned, then blushed and murmured her compliance.

But Xia Di averted his eyes again in discomfort, fearful that the shame lurking at the bottom of his heart might creep upward and betray him.

The other maidservant, hearing these words, dared not let her disappointment show. She quickly stepped forward to take the basin from the remaining girl’s hands and withdrew.

The girl left inside the tent wrung her hands with nerves. For a moment she forgot her duties and stood rooted to the spot, thoroughly at a loss for quite some time.

She glanced up at the young lord and saw that he had taken up the Liang Mountain terrain map again and was reading it. The lamp wick had burned somewhat short, and she feared the young lord might strain his eyes. She quickly stepped forward, picked up the lamp-wick scissors, and trimmed the wick for him.

The light brightened slightly. The muted golden glow fell across his face, and his expression was plainly somewhat absent — yet his sweeping brows and sharp, handsome nose were so fine to look upon that her heart grew flustered and unsettled.

She stood anxiously for a while. Seeing that the young lord gave no further instructions, she moved on quiet feet to the bedding and bent down to unfold the sleeping things one by one.

Under ordinary circumstances of campaigning and combat, having any sleeping place at all would be considered adequate. But Her Highness the Princess, afraid that her son might suffer from the cold in a harsh posting such as Jade Gate Pass, had specially had his personal guard bring along an insulating skin coverlet made from spirit rhinoceros hide. It was said that spirit rhinoceros hide was moisture-resistant and thick, and laid beneath the bedding, it was most effective at blocking the cold dampness that seeped up from the ground.

She suppressed with all her might the shyness and anticipation rising within her, and knelt on the ground to arrange the sleeping things with focused attention. She was so tense and absorbed in the task that she did not even notice when the young lord had come up behind her.

Rising to her feet and turning around, she found herself looking directly into the young lord’s deep, unfathomable eyes. She gave a start and instinctively stepped back two paces — then heard the young lord, his face cold, give the command: “Help me undress.”

The maidservant raised her eyes in alarm and sure enough saw that the young lord had already raised both his arms, posturing for her to attend to him.

Her fingers twisted together nervously as she flushed and stepped forward to remove his heavy, ice-cold silver armour. The armour was weighty, and once she had unfastened it, she strained to hold it, setting it carefully to the side. She then turned to undo his outer robe.

She could sense the young lord’s gaze following her every movement, and there was a strange flutter of delight in her chest. All the way here, the young lord had given them little more than an indifferent look and never once allowed them to serve him closely. She had been walking on eggshells each day, afraid that the young lord might do as Guard Liu and the others had warned — hand them over to other soldiers on a casual whim.

His waist sash came undone. She held her breath and began removing his inner robe. Being this close, the scent that emanated from him — the scent of a young man — surrounded her, charged with a dangerous quality that set her heart hammering.

Trembling, she had just barely touched the sash at his waist when suddenly her body felt weightless — an arm had gone around her waist, and she tumbled onto the bedding.

Immediately, a weight followed, as the young lord came down over her. She gripped the coverlet beneath her with rigid fingers, sensing his breath drawing ever closer. She stiffened, not knowing what to do — but that warm breath came to the edge of her lips and then stopped without coming any closer, halting without warning.

She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for a long time, but instead of any further tenderness, she heard a languid, disinterested voice: “You needn’t attend to me after all. You may go.”

She blinked open her eyes in bewilderment, and for a long moment could not react.

Seeing that she still did not move, Xia Di lost patience and said curtly, “Get out—”

The maidservant flinched in fright, every romantic notion in her heart doused at once as though with a bucket of cold water. She dared not linger another instant, and scrambled up off the bedding.

After the maidservant had gone, Xia Di turned over and lay on his back, staring at the tent’s roof in a long, fixed gaze. After quite some time, a cryptic, self-mocking smile crept to his lips. That girl — except for that face so like Qin Yao’s, where was there even a trace of Qin Yao in her? Not the slightest liveliness or radiance, nothing but a coyness and affectation that turned his stomach. He had gone utterly mad to entertain such a self-deceiving notion.

The following day dawned just as bright and clear. Qin Yao had been turning over last night’s discovery in her mind all morning, and after rushing through breakfast she pressed Lin Xiao to help her put her plan into action.

In truth, Lin Xiao did not need to wait for Qin Yao to ask. Understanding the gravity of the matter, he had already given the necessary instructions when they returned to Siru Study the night before.

By the time they reached Yanbo Pavilion, Chang Rong and the others were already standing by the lakeside, each holding a lozenge-shaped bronze mirror, waiting. The warm winter sun shone pleasantly, but every face wore a look of bewilderment — none of them had the faintest idea what the Young Lord and Young Mistress were planning to do.

The lake was dotted with boats. Qin Yao and Lin Xiao followed the covered walkway to the landing steps, descended to the lake, and stood side by side on a boat, map in hand.

After studying each position carefully, Qin Yao called out instructions one by one, directing Chang Rong and the others to leap into the trees and take up their positions according to the corresponding directions.

This approach required practitioners of martial arts — it had been too late the night before, and Qin Yao had not wanted to cause a commotion, so she had not arranged it then.

Fortunately the lake was broad enough, and the willows along the bank were planted densely, giving ample room to manoeuvre.

Chang Rong stood at the eastern point corresponding to Wuwei Mountain, Wei Bo stood at the western point corresponding to Wuniu Mountain, and Lü Qinhuai stood at the southwestern corner corresponding to Shouhuai Mountain.

As for the angle corresponding to the abandoned temple behind the Jinghai Marquis’s residence, there was no foothold to be found on the bank, so Qin Yao looked around, had a servant bring a long pole, and had another boat moored alongside. Wang Liang then stood in that boat, holding the pole aloft at full height, mirror raised to reflect onto the lake’s surface.

This extraordinarily difficult manoeuvre was only managed without disaster — without a headlong tumble into the lake — by virtue of Wang Liang’s exceptional lightness skill. Even so, by the time the moment was over, beads of sweat stood out on his forehead.

The brilliant sunlight fell on each person’s lozenge-shaped mirror, and the smooth mirror surfaces bent the light in different directions, scattering it across the lake’s surface like stars in broad daylight.

Qin Yao kept adjusting the map in her hands against the positions of each person, and the several beams of light eventually crossed at strange angles and converged, falling on a single point on the map.

Qin Yao’s heart was pounding as she looked on. No wonder she had been unable to see any connection between the several mountain summits no matter how she studied the map — this was not a Daoist or Buddhist formation at all, but the celestial five-elemental configuration of the heavens. Had she not caught a chance glimpse of the Mansion of the Dipper the night before, she might never have thought to identify the connection between the mountain summits by replicating their orientations.

The several mountains had indeed answered to the Celestial Prison: all the mountain energies ultimately converged and pointed toward a single stellar node.

Arranged according to their individual positions, Wuwei Mountain corresponded to the Star of the Moon Fox, the abandoned temple behind the Qin residence corresponded to the Ghost Star, Wuniu Mountain corresponded to the Danger Star, and Shouhuai Mountain corresponded to the Astride Star.

Their convergence point was the Maiden Mansion.

The Maiden Mansion was unlike the other mansions of the west — preeminent in its angular position, it served a governing and counterbalancing function. If the other stellar mansions truly corresponded to the malevolent spirits of the several mountains, then the malevolent spirit corresponding to the Maiden Mansion evidently surpassed all others, whether in destructive power or in standing.

As she thought this through, a cold sweat slowly broke out along her back. Could it be for this very reason that those malevolent spirits, one after another making their appearance in the world, had each been doing everything in their power to arrange formations — all for the sake of helping the malevolent spirit corresponding to the Maiden Mansion break through the sealing formation?

She quickly instructed the boat woman to make minute adjustments to their position on the lake, then held up the map and aligned it with each reflected beam of light.

As time passed and the sun’s shadow gradually shifted, strangely, the point where the several beams converged never changed — it remained fixed, falling steadily on the northeastern corner of the lake’s centre.

She lowered her gaze and saw on the map that the northeastern corner of the region enclosed by the four mountains aligned precisely with Chang’an — or more precisely, with the area roughly at the midpoint of the line connecting Wuwei Mountain and the abandoned temple behind the Jinghai Marquis’s residence.

She was quietly startled. Could it be that the Maiden Mansion was not outside the city walls, but actually within the city?

She quickly searched along the connecting line between Wuwei Mountain and the Jinghai Marquis’s abandoned temple, but the map bore no particular markings at that stretch — only a general indication of the southwestern section of Chang’an, the scope vague enough that no specific location could be determined.

She pointed to that area and asked Lin Xiao, “What place is this?”

She was far less familiar with the layout within Chang’an than Lin Xiao was.

Lin Xiao had already noticed that something was off. He took the map, studied it carefully, and said with a slight frown, “This place is already nearly to the edge of the city. Go a little further south and it would be Guiyi; go north and it would be Yongping.”

Hearing these two names she knew so well, Qin Yao was astonished and opened her mouth wide. “You’re saying it’s Yunyinac Academy?”

Encountering the academy in everyday life was one thing — being able to identify its specific location on a map was another matter entirely.

Lin Xiao set down the map and looked at Qin Yao calmly. “There are few ordinary residences in that area. In the days of the late Emperor, the Emperor Grandfather deliberately sought to preserve the academy’s tranquility and issued successive decrees relocating many of the nearby merchants. For many years now, there has been nothing within several li of that place except Yunyin Academy alone — it is quite easy to identify.”

Qin Yao stood stunned, then picked the map up again to look closely. Could it truly be that the last of the demonic stars of the Dipper Mansion was located at Yunyin Academy?

No wonder that when Zhou Heng’s soul had drifted from the western outskirts of Chang’an to the academy, other wandering spirits had come filtering in one after another. Whenever a malevolent spirit manifested in the world, there was always a strange omen.

Yet she had a vague feeling that something was amiss. If the Maiden Mansion truly lay within the academy, why had she felt nothing at all during her years of study there?

After turning it over in her mind, she could not sit still. She grabbed Lin Xiao’s arm. “Let’s go to the academy and have a look right now.”

Lin Xiao saw the gravity in her expression and stopped her. “Don’t forget the academy has been sealed off. Even if we go in, we’ll need to avoid attracting attention. I’ll have Chang Rong make some advance arrangements — we can go tonight.”

Qin Yao thought this made sense, and reluctantly stood down, saying with a rueful smile, “I’m too impatient.”

After the midday meal, Lin Xiao went to the Duke of Lu’s residence to ask the Duchess about several matters and did not return until dusk.

Once back at Siru Study, he had barely sat down and exchanged a few words with Qin Yao before sending Listening Wind to pass word to Chang Rong to prepare in advance.

But the little serving girl Listening Wind sent came back only after a long while, reporting that Head Guard Chang said that all was already arranged and that he was only waiting for the Young Lord’s word.

Lin Xiao saw that the girl had been gone so long and frowned slightly. “Is Chang Rong not in the residence?”

The girl was timid by nature, and the sight of the Young Lord’s slight displeasure made her legs turn to jelly. She quickly replied, “He is in the residence. But Head Guard Chang was not at Moyuan Hall. When I asked Guard Wei and the others, they only said that Head Guard Chang had stepped out after making arrangements and they didn’t know where he had gone, though he had not left the residence. Having heard this, I searched the residence courtyard by courtyard until I found Head Guard Chang in the Western Side Courtyard.”

“The Western Side Courtyard?” Qin Yao’s ears perked up. She darted a quick glance at Lin Xiao. Was the Western Side Courtyard not where Madam Zhou and her daughter were temporarily staying? What reason could Chang Rong have to go there?

Nanny Wen, who was supervising Listening Wind and the others in setting out the meal, heard this and cast a mildly startled look at the little maidservant — clearly wondering herself why her son had gone to the Western Side Courtyard.

The girl, hesitant and uncertain, nodded and told everything she had seen and heard in one breath. “When I arrived, Head Guard Chang was talking to Miss Zhou in the courtyard. Afterward, Miss Zhou went back inside, but Head Guard Chang was still standing in the courtyard in a daze. I called out to him several times before he finally heard me.”

This time Nanny Wen was completely dumbfounded. She stood by the table, the bamboo chopsticks still wrapped in the cloth napkin in her hand, forgetting for a long time to set them down.

Qin Yao thought of Miss Zhou’s appearance and temperament, and began to understand.

After the evening meal, Qin Yao and Lin Xiao played two rounds of chess together. By the time the curfew hour was past, the two changed their clothes and left the residence.

To avoid attracting attention, the carriage had barely turned into the lane behind Yunyin Academy when Lin Xiao had it stop, and drew Qin Yao out. He said to her, “Because the case of Female Official Lu has yet to be concluded, the academy is currently guarded by a few officers dispatched by the Chang’an prefecture. The guard is not especially tight, but we still can’t walk in and out openly. Once we’re inside, let’s move quickly and have a look around. We shouldn’t linger too long, to avoid arousing suspicion.”

Qin Yao nodded. Having a prior arrangement was one thing; actually entering the building was another. In order to avoid causing trouble for both Lin Xiao and the Chang’an prefecture officers, it was best to proceed with caution. They came to the base of the high perimeter wall. She was wearing Hu attire, which made movement particularly easy. She and Lin Xiao went up the wall one after the other, then leaped down to the other side, landing in the courtyard.

Since no one currently resided in the courtyard, only a handful of lanterns were scattered about inside, their light dim and forlorn. Qin Yao swept the surroundings with a glance and moved slowly along the base of the wall toward the interior, calling to mind the lively scenes of her classmates laughing and playing during their time here, and feeling a sudden sense that things had changed while the place had not.

When they reached the garden, she had expected to encounter crowds of resentful spirits as before — yet the garden was completely clean, entirely devoid of malevolent energy.

In truth, she had already had a premonition of this from the moment they entered. Both the compass in her bosom and Lin Xiao’s Chixiao Sword had been far too quiet — nothing like that previous visit to the academy, when the two of them had still been outside the walls and already each received a warning sign.

They finished looking through the garden and went to inspect the dormitories. Still nothing amiss to be found anywhere. Qin Yao frowned inwardly. Could it be that today’s method of using the Mansion of the Dipper to map out the formation had been completely wrong?

But Lin Xiao drew her toward the quarters where the female officials had slept.

Qin Yao was briefly puzzled, then as they approached a small courtyard and she climbed the steps toward a row of firmly shut doors, she suddenly understood. “This is Female Official Lu’s quarters?”

Lin Xiao gave a quiet affirmation. That afternoon at the Duke of Lu’s residence, he had already asked his aunt about it clearly: the small courtyard in front of the students’ dormitories was the female officials’ living quarters, and the second room from the left in that row of side rooms was the one Female Official Lu had occupied during her lifetime.

Rather than leading Qin Yao inside immediately, Lin Xiao first examined the exterior of the quarters, taking note of the placement of the doors and windows. He observed that the two adjacent rooms were completely connected, sharing no gap between them whatsoever. After some deliberation, he pushed the door open and they went in.

The space consisted of two rooms, inner and outer: the outer room served as a sitting room, with a round table at its centre surrounded by a ring of low benches; the inner room was the bedroom.

Female Official Lu’s body had been discovered directly beneath the ceiling beam of the outer room’s round table.

When she took her own life, she had placed a low bench on top of the table to reach the beam. The two adjacent rooms were so close together that the female official next door had heard the sound of the bench being kicked over and had been frightened by it at the time.

But as it was just before dawn and the outside air was bitter and cold, she was somewhat afraid and did not dare come to investigate.

It was only when enough people had gotten out of bed that the neighbouring female official, her courage somewhat recovered, came to knock on the door — but Female Official Lu had already breathed her last.

Everything inside the room remained in its original place, with no signs of struggle or searching. Female Official Lu’s body bore no external injuries of any resistance whatsoever — at a glance, it was evident she had died by hanging.

However, because the matter touched upon the reputation of the Imperial Academy, Liu Zan had been compelled to involve himself, having Female Official Lu’s remains transferred to the Court of Judicial Review for a post-mortem examination, in order to give the Emperor an account.

Before leaving, Qin Yao carefully surveyed the room once more, confirming there was no malevolent spirit energy present, and then left the academy with Lin Xiao.

“We need to find a way to examine Female Official Lu’s remains.” Though she had found nothing in the academy, Qin Yao was not the least disheartened. “Her death was far too convenient. Just the evening before, we had driven out the evil spirits in the academy, and then the very next morning at dawn she hangs herself — and afterward the academy was sealed off because of it, leaving us unable to pursue the investigation any further. I’ve always felt there is something peculiar in all of this. If the academy truly has some connection to the Maiden Mansion’s demonic star, then Female Official Lu’s death may well be entangled with the malevolent spirit.”

Lin Xiao said, “But if the academy truly is a place where a malevolent spirit dwells, why is there no trace of demonic energy?”

Qin Yao was brought up short. Indeed — ever since the academy had been sealed off, neither Yuan Jue nor her master had been able to enter. By rights, wherever the Maiden Mansion lay, the demonic energy should have been accumulating unabated, and it should certainly not have been this clean. Who could possibly have had the means to enter the sealed academy and sweep away all traces of the malevolent energy so freely?

“The only explanation is that either my method was wrong,” she said with some dejection, “or the method was right, but something went astray somewhere — causing the position corresponding to the Maiden Mansion to shift, so that the academy was mistakenly identified as the location of the Maiden Mansion.”

Could that truly be the case? Lin Xiao reflected inwardly. Whether the wandering spirits that had previously appeared in the academy, or Qing Xuzi’s behaviour that evening in the academy — all of it plainly indicated that the academy harboured a problem. So why was it that after being sealed off for a period of time, the academy — which should have been teeming with resentful spirits — had become this calm, leaving one with no grounds even to voice suspicion? The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the deliberate work of someone’s hand.

“A’Yao.” A hypothesis suddenly occurred to him. “Do you know whether there exists in this world a Daoist technique that can conceal malevolent energy — one that would cause a place harbouring demonic energy to appear, to outside perception, as though it had none?”

“You mean the Spirit-Concealing Formation?” Qin Yao said, startled.

Lin Xiao was also taken aback to learn that such a technique truly existed. “What is the Spirit-Concealing Formation?”

“It’s a kind of Daoist sorcery,” Qin Yao said, her expression grave. “The practitioner sets up a sealing barrier on the outside that can mask all existing demonic energy. But this method demands extremely high levels of Daoist cultivation from the practitioner — it cannot be performed by anyone who has not cultivated for many years. Moreover, the materials required are exceptionally rare and costly — the gold-infused sand alone would require the expenditure of countless taels of silver. But even that aside, I have heard that this formation cannot be maintained for long — it must be re-laid at intervals, making it an extraordinarily difficult technique to sustain. I only encountered it once, by chance, in a fragmentary text left by our founding patriarch. In all my years of study under my master, I have never once witnessed this formation — it may well be that it has already vanished from the world.”

When she finished, she saw Lin Xiao deep in thought and understood. “Are you saying that someone has laid a Spirit-Concealing Formation inside the academy?”

Lin Xiao was quiet for a moment before speaking. “As you described — from when you and the Daoist first detected the demonic energy leaking from the academy, to Female Official Lu’s death by hanging, only a single night passed in between. I still remember that night in the garden, teeming with wandering resentful spirits — the Chixiao Sword had even begun sounding its warning while we were still outside the courtyard walls. And yet tonight, returning to the academy, there is not a trace of demonic energy—”

“You’re saying someone simply does not want us to discover that there is a problem with the academy?” Qin Yao’s heart began to hammer. If that truly were the case, Female Official Lu’s death might indeed be deeply suspect.