New Year’s Eve of the seventeenth year of Yonghe arrived as scheduled.

After lying in bed for nearly a month, Yan Sanhe was allowed to get up for the first time.

The courtyard’s space was but a few square feet.

She stood quietly under the eaves, gazing at the distant gray-shrouded sky, listening to raindrops striking the blue-stone bricks. After a long while, her brow furrowed slightly.

In her memory, New Year’s Eve in Yunnan Prefecture had never seen rain.

Grandfather Yan Xing would rise earlier than usual.

After washing and breakfast, he’d immerse himself in the study to write spring couplets.

By the time she woke, a long line of people would already be queued in the courtyard—all coming to request spring couplets.

Old Lady Xiao always ranked first. In her words, a man’s first piss in the morning traveled farthest, so the first written couplet should also carry the most vigor.

After receiving her spring couplet, Old Lady Xiao never left readily.

She couldn’t read a single character and had to ask Scholar Yan to properly explain the meaning of this year’s couplet.

While Yan Xing explained, the old woman’s shifty eyes would dart all over him.

Looking at his face, his body, even the shoes on his feet—she’d steal glances repeatedly.

Endless looking, refusing to leave, shamelessly saying she was hard of hearing just now—could Scholar Yan please repeat that?

Scholar Yan would cast a cold look her way. Old Lady Xiao would purse her lips, aggrieved: “It’s New Year’s—can’t Scholar Yan let me have my way just once?”

Before Scholar Yan could respond, she’d grin again, approaching shamelessly to ask, “Another year has passed. How is the Scholar considering my proposal?”

Yan Xing acted as if he’d heard nothing. He straightened his robes, expression blank: “Next!”

Old Lady Xiao had no choice but to shuffle out muttering, “Men, blind they are, can’t see a good woman right before them.”

“Old Lady Xiao, what kind of good woman are you?”

“Why don’t you piss and look at your own reflection?”

“A fresh flower stuck in cow dung.”

The jeering voices in the courtyard rose one after another.

“Bah!”

Old Lady Xiao spat at them, then turned to shout toward the study: “Scholar Yan, I’ll give you one more year to think it over. Next year you mustn’t break my heart!”

Next year, heartbreak continues.

The year after, she’ll return again!

Year after year the heartbreak continues.

Year after year after that, she’ll return yet again!

Even Yan Sanhe couldn’t watch anymore. “Grandfather, why not speak plainly and let her abandon this hope?”

Yan Xing was silent for a long while. “Leaving her some hope—she’ll live a few more years!”

Yan Sanhe silently closed her eyes.

At this moment, Old Lady Xiao would surely also visit their residence, but the people in that residence were all gone.

This year, who would help the villagers write their door couplets?

Like Old Lady Xiao, they must all miss that taciturn Scholar Yan terribly.

Actually, she missed him too!

…

Xie Zhifei walked into the courtyard holding an umbrella. At first glance, he saw the person under the eaves.

That person’s lashes were half-lowered, her expression somewhat sorrowful.

He coughed once.

Yan Sanhe’s eyes flew open.

Why had he come?

“Come to give New Year’s money.”

Xie Zhifei walked over, handed the umbrella to Tangyuan who’d come at the sound, and pulled out two strings of cash from his robe. “One for you, one for Lanchuan. To ward off the year.”

Tangyuan happily thanked Third Master and took Lanchuan’s share to her.

“Third Master, where’s mine?” Li Buyan crossed her arms, looking at Xie Zhifei with an unfriendly expression.

“Yours…”

Just as Li Buyan thought he’d say “you don’t have any,” this person produced a blessing pouch like magic.

“A blessing pouch from Qingliang Temple. I went to request it personally.”

Li Buyan accepted it with a disdainful expression, tossed out “how rare,” and turned away.

In the blink of an eye, only two remained under the eaves.

After standing for a moment, Yan Sanhe’s gaze drifted sideways, unexpectedly meeting the man’s bright dark eyes directly.

Xie Zhifei’s eyes held a smile in their depths. “So tell me, what New Year’s gift does our divine woman want?”

“Naturally, whatever Third Master gives, I’ll accept.”

“What about me as a person—how do you find me?”

“…Can’t ward off evil spirits.”

Yan Sanhe narrowed her eyes, deliberately needling him. “Your mouth is just slightly sweet, that’s all.”

Xie Zhifei: “Disdain me?”

Yan Sanhe: “Disdain you.”

Xie Zhifei: “Don’t want me?”

Yan Sanhe: “Don’t want you!”

Xie Zhifei reached into his robe and pulled out a thin book. “What about this?”

“What is it?”

“See for yourself.”

Yan Sanhe reached out to flip through it and froze—it was actually an original copy of Wang Xun’s “Boyuan Tie” from the Eastern Jin Dynasty.

This scroll was regarded by calligraphers throughout the ages as a rare treasure. During his lifetime, Yan Xing had said his greatest regret was never seeing an original copy of the Boyuan Tie.

“Where did you get this?”

“Just say whether you want it or not.”

Yan Sanhe was so excited she nearly bit her tongue. “Want it!”

“Girl!”

Xie Zhifei sighed long, his index finger lightly tapping the now-healed wound on Yan Sanhe’s head.

“In the coming year, you must be safe and sound, free from illness and disaster.”

Yan Sanhe looked at him, her eyes slowly reddening.

“Oh my, have I moved you?”

“No.” She turned her face away.

“Good then.”

Xie Zhifei looked down at her, his eyes holding soul-stirring tenderness.

“Remember your identity. A divine woman must have a hard, unyielding heart. Can’t be bewitched by a few sweet words from my little sweet mouth.”

Yan Sanhe’s face flushed crimson.

Who’s bewitched?

Certainly not!

Just then, she heard the sweet mouth call out: “Zhu Qing.”

Zhu Qing had been waiting by the wall for a long time. Hearing his master’s call, he quickly walked over with an umbrella.

“Miss Yan, the people investigating Concubine Xia have returned.”

The romantic atmosphere under the eaves instantly dissipated completely.

Yan Sanhe composed her expression. “What did they learn?”

“We sent two groups—one to her Shandong hometown, another to her maternal family’s home in the northern territories.”

Zhu Qing: “On the Double Ninth Festival of the first year of Yonghe, the Xia family of Dengzhou Prefecture in Shandong was robbed by bandits. The home was completely ransacked, and not one of the nineteen people survived.”

Yan Sanhe narrowed her eyes. “What kind of bandits?”

Zhu Qing: “Couldn’t find out.”

Yan Sanhe frowned. “Such a major case with nineteen deaths—didn’t any officials investigate?”

Zhu Qing: “They did. Supposedly officials came in waves, quite a few.”

Yan Sanhe: “Any results?”

Zhu Qing shook his head. “It remains an unsolved case to this day.”

Seventeen years had passed, yet such a major case remained unsolved. Yan Sanhe fell into silence.

“Yan Sanhe, regarding this murder case, do you want to hear the thoughts of me, a Commander of the Five Cities?”

“Yes.”

“Bandits have their code. Ordinary bandits only seek wealth, not lives. But this kind of massacre—either it’s enemies seeking revenge, or… silencing witnesses.”

Xie Zhifei’s gaze dropped, his voice lowering. “What matter could be worth killing all nineteen members of the Xia family?”

Yan Sanhe looked up, their gazes meeting. In both their eyes flickered understanding and clarity.

Yan Sanhe withdrew her gaze and asked again: “What about the maternal family in the northern territories—did you find anything?”

Zhu Qing: “Concubine Xia’s mother was surnamed Bai. Madam Bai had a distant cousin who married a local carpenter surnamed Shen. When Prince Zhao established his residence in the northern territories, Carpenter Shen worked at Prince Zhao’s residence for three full years.”

“Magistrate Xie.”

Yan Sanhe looked up at him. “I’d like to hear your thoughts again.”

Xie Zhifei’s expression held a subtle quality. “Though it winds through several connections, it still ties back to Prince Zhao’s residence.”

“If…”

Yan Sanhe’s voice was utterly calm.

“If someone threatened Concubine Xia using the lives of the Bai clan and Xia clan, do you think she would obediently commit the crime?”

Xie Zhifei: “She would.”

“If Concubine Xia was the true accomplice in the Witchcraft Case, and because she was an accomplice, all nineteen members of the Xia family were silenced, leaving not one alive…”

Yan Sanhe said thoughtfully: “Could the entire matter… come together?”

Xie Zhifei’s tone was utterly certain.

“It could!”