Yan Sanhe sat with her hair loose, her gaze falling on the paper.

On the paper she’d written down the important information she’d extracted from Chen Pi’s words, trying to find some connecting points from this information.

Someone outside the window seemed to be watching her.

Yan Sanhe suddenly looked up and, seeing it was Xie Zhifei, said, “Middle of the night, not sleeping—what are you doing in my courtyard?”

Xie Zhifei smiled. “Same as you—couldn’t sleep because of the Zheng family matter.”

Yan Sanhe pointed at the bamboo couch. “Want to come in and sit?”

Xie Zhifei propped his forearm on the window, leaning his body in. “No thanks. Afraid if I come in, my hands will lose control again—a bit addicted to holding you.”

What “addicted to holding”? Didn’t he only hold her once after leaving Chen Pi’s house?

Yan Sanhe forcibly changed the subject. “The night watchman should have news soon, right?”

“Tomorrow should be about right.”

Xie Zhifei looked at her. “Yan Sanhe, I have a doubt.”

“What?”

“Everyone in the Zheng family was drugged with sleeping powder—why could Zheng Huantang and his son still wield blades in resistance?”

Yan Sanhe pointed to a line on the paper. “Actually I’m also wondering about this. Look, I’ve already written it down.”

Xie Zhifei pressed his hand on the windowsill, gave a light leap, and was already inside the room.

Still came in after all.

He walked to the desk, lowered his head to look at that paper, his brows showing an even deeper doubt.

After a long silence, he pointed to one line and said, “Lady Zhao died on her daughter’s bed. Their mother-daughter relationship was truly good!”

Yan Sanhe nodded. “A daughter raised from childhood—how could she not love her?”

Xie Zhifei looked up at her, his eyes tightening to the extreme.

Perhaps Xie Zhifei’s gaze was too intense. Yan Sanhe brushed the stray hair by her ear. “What’s wrong?”

Candid between her brows, her gaze neither dodging nor avoiding.

“Nothing, I’m thinking.” Xie Zhifei lowered his eyelids.

“Brother, why doesn’t Mother like me?”

“Brother, why doesn’t Mother sleep with me?”

“Brother, why does Mother only fan you?”

She called Lady Zhao “Mother,” which showed she remembered things from living in the Zheng family before. Yet she didn’t remember that Mother didn’t like her at all…

Why?

This was too strange!

“What did you think of?” Yan Sanhe asked.

“No clues.”

Xie Zhifei’s head fell onto her shoulder. “Ah, thinking until my head hurts. Why don’t you rub it for me?”

Yan Sanhe: “…”

Middle of the night—why was this person acting coquettish?

“Master?”

Xie Zhifei suddenly straightened up and turned his head toward the window. Without realizing it, the sky had grown slightly bright.

“What is it?”

Ding Yi: “Master, we’ve found the night watchman.”

Xie Zhifei turned to ask Yan Sanhe, “Do you want to see him?”

Yan Sanhe: “You go see him!”

Xie Zhifei couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Really not seeing him?”

“If he’s living well…”

Yan Sanhe spoke lightly, “We probably won’t be able to get anything out of him.”

…

Yan Sanhe really did guess correctly.

That night near the Zheng residence, there were two night watchmen in total.

The two men said in unison that they only saw several black shadows whoosh past before their eyes—at the time they thought they’d seen ghosts.

Asked which direction the black shadows went, both said toward the southeast.

The southeast was where the black-clothed men escaped. Twelve garments were dug up from the ditch, with no discrepancies from the case file.

“We spent so much effort finding them, but after questioning back and forth, we only got these few sentences. What a complete waste of effort.”

Pei Xiao used his gaze to condemn Xie Fifty for making him get up from bed for these two worthless people.

“Yan Sanhe, what do we do next? Should we urge Big Brother Zhu, or should we go directly to the Xiang family ourselves?”

“Better to have Big Brother Zhu come forward for the Xiang family side. If we go rashly, they won’t pay any attention.”

The one answering Pei Xiao was Xie Fifty, whom he’d been condemning. “We’ll wait for news from Han Yong’s end. It should be soon.”

Did anyone ask you?

Pei Xiao rolled his eyes at him and looked at Yan Sanhe.

Yan Sanhe nodded. “Listen to Third Master—you won’t be wrong.”

Pei Xiao: “…”

On the side, Li Buyan suppressed a smile and turned her head toward the window.

Outside the window, someone walked into the courtyard—it was Zhu Qing returning, with a stranger following behind.

Seeing that person, Xie Zhifei immediately stood up and went out to greet him.

Li Buyan asked curiously, “Young Master Pei, who is that?”

Pei Xiao looked at her and said softly, “That’s Han Yong.”

…

If one had to use a word to describe Han Yong, it would be utterly unremarkable—the type you’d throw into a crowd and never find again.

But once he opened his mouth, Yan Sanhe looked at him with new respect.

“Xie Chengyu, you had me investigate, so I investigated. But you need to be careful about this matter—have some sense of proportion.”

His tone was very steady.

“Many matters of the Embroidered Uniform Guard are unclear and murky. If you insist on making them clear and bringing them to light, you’re courting death.”

Yan Sanhe didn’t know this was Han Yong’s habitual opening.

Xie Zhifei’s smile faded slightly. “Speak. What did you find?”

Han Yong’s peripheral vision swept the doors and windows once. Ding Yi and Huang Qi immediately turned and went out, one guarding the door, one guarding the window.

“The Embroidered Uniform Guard Commander in the eighth year of Yonghe was called Yu Shengyan.”

Hearing this name, Xie Zhifei knew Han Yong’s opening words came from the heart.

Among the hundred surnames, those surnamed Yu were rare. Those called Yu Shengyan were even rarer.

This Yu Shengyan held the position of Embroidered Uniform Guard Commander with great power. How many people wanted to curry favor with him, walk through his door?

These two things combined—by rights, he should have heard of Yu Shengyan. Even after ten years had passed, there should still be some rumors about him in the capital.

Yet he, the head of the Five Cities Military Security Bureau, knew nothing.

“This person only held the position for one year before dying.”

One year?

That short?

Xie Zhifei asked, “How did he die?”

Han Yong: “Has Third Master ever heard of an unwritten rule for advancement in the Embroidered Uniform Guard?”

Xie Zhifei: “The capable rise, the weak fall.”

Han Yong: “He was killed by his disciple Feng Changxiu during an operation. Feng Changxiu stepped on his master’s corpse and climbed to his current position in one leap.”

Pei Xiao’s voice changed. “Feng Changxiu killed him?”

Xie Zhifei was even more shocked. “Why did I know nothing about this?”

“After Feng Changxiu rose to power, he thoroughly purged Yu Shengyan’s people, not sparing a single one, to the point that the Embroidered Uniform Guard was once short-staffed.”

Han Yong said, “Our batch all entered the Embroidered Uniform Guard after the eighth year of Yonghe. Feng Changxiu placed a gag order on past matters. It’s normal Third Master doesn’t know—I’m in the Embroidered Uniform Guard myself and don’t know the inside story either.”

Yan Sanhe suddenly spoke. “Do all you Embroidered Uniform Guards advance this way?”

Han Yong’s gaze turned toward Yan Sanhe.

“Those lower down are fine, but the higher you go, the more unscrupulous the methods. Who doesn’t want to climb to the highest place?”

Yan Sanhe: “The Emperor allows this?”

Han Yong nodded, then said eight more words: “Turns one eye open, one eye closed.”

Now Yan Sanhe completely understood, sneering in admiration. “Brilliant!”

“Brilliant in what way?”

Pei Xiao pressed for an answer.