After a difficult escape back to the small town, they found the temple square filled with refugees. These common folk, having experienced the fires of war, were now either celebrating family reunions if fortunate enough to be reunited, or searching desperately for their loved ones if separated—calling for fathers and mothers with cries and shouts rising and falling in chaos, creating a scene of complete disorder.

Compared to last night’s strip searches and examination under the beacon fires and corpse-strewn battlefields, which was truly better? Qiong Fang’s group had no energy left to ponder such questions. All the way back through the refugee tide, they stumbled and pushed their way back into the Guanyin Temple, utterly exhausted, everyone collapsing to the ground. San Gun Jie set up the cooking pot, fetched water for washing faces, and let everyone rest briefly.

Though the strange man had completely vanished without a trace, Qiong Fang still harbored a glimmer of hope. She searched inside and outside the temple, hoping he had returned from the battlefield on his own. But when she returned to the side hall basement, only an empty stretcher remained, along with an overturned empty wine bottle, its spilled contents still not completely dry on the floor. Qiong Fang felt utterly dejected. Returning to the main hall, she sat down beside Juan’er, who wore a gloomy expression as if she too had suffered some blow, completely lacking her usual playful mood. The two sat shoulder to shoulder, leaning against each other, tired and sleepy, their eyelids already half-closed.

Everyone either lay down or reclined, including Zhe’er Dan. Only Fu Yuanying remained busy, coming and going—as the military advisor of this journey, he feared the war might spread to this small town. Within half an hour, he had arranged carriages and horses for an early departure, changing their route to travel by water.

After boarding a ship eastward from Jingzhou, then traveling north along the canal, they arrived in Yangzhou on the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth month. With New Year’s Eve approaching, though everyone was reluctant to spend the holiday away from home, they couldn’t very well travel on New Year’s Eve, so they planned to stay in Yangzhou until after the third day of the new year before returning north.

The group sighed and disembarked at the dock, then hired carriages to Yangzhou city. It was afternoon when the prefect, hearing that the National Uncle Qiong’s granddaughter had arrived, personally came to the city gate to welcome them with great respect and thoroughness. This prefect was quite young, around forty years old. When Qiong Fang heard him announce his name, she learned this man was surnamed Li and given name Rufeng, who had previously served as an official in the Ministry of Rites. Qiong Fang had no mood for pleasantries. Hearing he wanted to arrange lodging at the official guesthouse, she said, “New Year is approaching—let’s not delay your lordship’s holiday celebration. We’ll find our own inn in the city to rest.”

Li Rufeng hastily said, “Impossible! Impossible! This humble official has received much patronage from the National Uncle over the years. Failing to welcome you from afar is already a grave offense. Please, Your Ladyship, allow this humble official to fulfill his duties as host.” Qiong Wuchuan had great influence, and most civil and military officials had received his favor. If she refused their kindness, it would seem distant and cold, so Qiong Fang no longer declined and let Prefect Li make the arrangements.

Li Rufeng was thorough in his preparations. Having inquired about their party size in advance, he had already prepared five large carriages specifically for everyone’s use.

As the carriages entered the city, everyone listened to his running commentary: “Yangzhou, also called Guangling, has been a famous commercial city since the Tang dynasty. Famous merchants and wealthy traders who have settled here number no fewer than several hundred thousand—truly the wealthiest under heaven.” In the same carriage besides Qiong Fang were Juan’er and Fu Yuanying. Li Rufeng spoke enthusiastically, then extended his index finger pointing outside the carriage: “Everyone, please look at that tall pagoda.” The three looked up to see a Buddhist pagoda being constructed on the east bank of the canal, several stories high and already mostly built, with magnificent scale that must have cost no small amount.

In these chaotic times of war, everyone seemed to listen attentively but were mostly distracted. Hearing his endless chatter, Qiong Fang could only force a smile: “This must cost tens of thousands of taels of silver, right? Is it being built with court funds?” Li Rufeng laughed: “Miss, you’ve guessed wrong. This is Wenfeng Pagoda, built entirely through donations raised by the monks themselves. Officials from other places also contributed some silver, so it doesn’t trouble the court at all.”

Everyone nodded weakly. When it was Fu Yuanying’s turn to respond, he said in a low voice: “Indeed, Yangzhou’s wealth is extraordinary.”

Lord Li laughed: “In just a couple of days it will be New Year. Tianning Temple is also in the city—it’s most lively during the New Year holiday. If Your Ladyship has leisure time, you might go take a look.” Seeing everyone looking listless, thinking perhaps he wasn’t speaking loudly enough, he raised his voice shrilly: “Speaking of Tianning Temple, this is Yangzhou’s foremost famous monastery. This temple has ancient origins—it was originally the residence of Grand Tutor Xie An of the Jin dynasty. In the tenth year of Taiyuan, the residence was converted to a temple called Xie Sikong Temple. Over hundreds of years it was renamed several times, until the Song dynasty during Emperor Huizong’s reign when it was finally named Tianning Chan Temple…” Juan’er frowned, listening to Li Rufeng’s endless verbose discourse, and said coldly: “Ancient temples are mostly haunted—better not to go during the New Year.”

Hearing her unfriendly tone, Li Rufeng quickly smiled apologetically: “No Buddha, no monks, just an empty hall with a single lamp—indeed temples can be quite gloomy. A young lady in the flower of youth needn’t go. In this humble official’s opinion, if not Tianning Temple, then Slender West Lake—as the saying goes, ‘Two embankments of flowers and willows all depend on water, one road of pavilions leads straight to the mountains’—a ten-li long lake without an inch of empty space…” He first opened the carriage curtain and recited: “In years past, Du Mu toured Yangzhou and testified with poetry: ‘On the twenty-four bridges under bright moonlight, where does the jade beauty teach the flute?’ This famous Twenty-four Bridge stirs great poetic inspiration in visitors and is naturally one of Slender West Lake’s beautiful sights…” Juan’er suppressed a yawn and shook her head: “Even sightseeing requires poetry—with Yangzhou having so many scenic spots, wouldn’t that make a whole thick book?”

Li Rufeng clapped his hands and laughed loudly: “Miss is so clever! Exactly, there are poems as proof. One scene, three hundred poems; one lake, three thousand verses. Pingshan Hall alone has poems left by Qin Guan, Su Che, Wang Anshi, Ouyang Xiu and others. The rest—Emperor Yang’s tomb, Sui palace, Sui embankment, Leitang, Gulin Hall—all have poems and prose. Hongqiao alone has a whole book called ‘Hongqiao Poetry Collection’—you can see how it generally is.” He swayed his head as he spoke, recounting treasures like counting family jewels. Juan’er listened until her head ached and shrieked: “Stop! Who can remember so much!”

Li Rufeng said in surprise: “Forgive me, forgive me! This unworthy one indeed spoke too quickly. Here are three volumes of this humble official’s personally written ‘Rufeng Poetry Collection’—laughable to learned people.” As he spoke, he took out three poetry books from the carriage and presented one to each person, complete with seals and inscriptions. Everyone’s lips mumbled, Juan’er tilted her head back and opened her mouth wide, Qiong Fang lowered her head and covered her small mouth—all simultaneously yawning.

Yangzhou was anciently called Jiangdu. Over hundreds of years, it attracted countless poets and writers to come appreciate the scenery. Big brothers and sisters touring Yangzhou, starting from Li Bai, Bai Juyi, Du Mu, and the Later Lord Li—which famous person didn’t write about Yangzhou? And how could Yangzhou lack famous people? Important figures come to appreciate gardens and scenery, lesser people offer brushes and inkstones; beautiful scenery elevates poetry and prose, poetry and prose elevate officials, officials again elevate beautiful scenery—this cyclical multiplication naturally creates mutual benefit. But ordinary common folk without literary fame who want to imitate others by scribbling wildly at scenic spots risk being sent to the yamen for investigation—one must be careful.

With their ears getting no peace all the way, everyone barely managed to endure until they finally reached their lodging for the night. When the carriages stopped, a large group of officials came to carry luggage. The entrance was bustling with carriages and horses, quite lively, and though in a foreign land at an official guesthouse, it had some New Year atmosphere.

Qiong Fang stood at the entrance looking up, seeing this residence was magnificent with elegant garden architecture—clearly a wealthy family’s dwelling. She asked: “I’ve heard Yangzhou’s garden landscaping is ingeniously designed, called ‘most gardens are residences.’ Could this also be some former dynasty ancient person’s former residence?”

Li Rufeng clapped his hands and laughed: “Exactly! Your Ladyship truly has discerning eyes—this grand residence is precisely former War Minister Lord Gu’s mansion.”

Everyone said “Oh!” with surprised expressions. Feicheng Guai asked: “Does Lord Gu still live inside?” Though Feicheng Guai looked strange, the National Uncle had wide social connections and enjoyed making friends with jianghu people, so Li Rufeng dared not neglect him and smiled: “Old sir, you’ve misspoken. This grand mansion was long ago sold to the court and is now Yangzhou’s official guesthouse.”

Feicheng Guai felt curious and asked: “This Lord Gu was a high official, right? Why would he sell his perfectly good house?”

Li Rufeng shrugged slightly and said indifferently: “He died.”

Feicheng Guai was startled and was about to ask more when Fu Yuanying stepped forward to guide his martial uncle away, signaling him not to ask further. Everyone fell silent for a moment. Qiong Fang coughed and said: “Yangzhou is blessed with outstanding people and beautiful land. Tonight we get to stay in a top scholar’s mansion—it wasn’t in vain coming to Yangzhou.” Li Rufeng smiled: “Exactly so. With Your Ladyship’s noble status, noble person and noble place are perfectly matched. This Top Scholar’s Mansion becomes even more resplendent and magnificent with your presence.”

In the travelers’ hall, servants were already waiting, all led by an elderly man. Looking at this person’s steady bearing and scholar-like appearance, he must be the chief steward of this guesthouse.

Upon seeing this man, Li Rufeng immediately exclaimed in surprise: “Mr. Pei is still here? Didn’t you go home for New Year?” Though this elderly man was a steward and servant, upon seeing Li Rufeng he showed no intention of kneeling, only bowing slightly to everyone: “Distinguished guests who have traveled far to Yangzhou, please enter and rest. Food and drink will be served shortly.” The steward’s words were cold and showed no warmth. Though Li Rufeng heard this, he dared not reproach him and quickly pulled the old man aside, saying softly: “Mr. Pei, this guest is no ordinary person, but the Purple…” Before he could finish, the old man turned to bow to Qiong Fang, saying warmly: “Miss Qiong honors Yangzhou with her presence—how could Pei Ya not know? I came especially for this occasion. During the holiday season, if you need a guide for sightseeing, this old man is at your service.”

Hearing the name “Pei Ya,” Qiong Fang couldn’t help but exclaim: “So it’s Mr. Xiumin!” The Huashan Twin Eccentrics didn’t understand court figures and quickly asked Fu Yuanying: “What’s wrong? Is this steward some important person?” Though they spoke quietly, Pei Ya had already heard and turned to bow: “This old man is no important person—formerly a Vice Director in the Ministry of Works, opened a few unsuccessful academies and schools, that’s all.” After speaking, he cast a cold glance at Li Rufeng: “Lord Li, the main gate is right here—no need to see you out.” With a flourish of his sleeves, he led the servants inside.

Li Rufeng looked extremely embarrassed and smiled apologetically: “Forgive me, during the New Year season I thought our Mr. Pei had returned to Hangzhou, unfortunately we encountered him again…” Juan’er and the Twin Eccentrics stared in amazement, asking: “Does Mr. Pei have a grudge against you?” Li Rufeng quickly said: “Not at all! The old gentleman has a cold temperament—he treats everyone with this attitude. After resigning from office, he insisted on taking this humble position managing this guesthouse. None of the court seniors can control him. If Your Ladyship finds it uncomfortable, why not stay at this humble official’s residence for a few days…”

Qiong Fang smiled: “No matter. Since we’re here, we’ll make ourselves comfortable. Let’s stay.”

That Pei Ya was quite cold to everyone—whether Song Tongming or the Twin Eccentrics, he had servants handle them all. But for some unknown reason, he was very kind to Qiong Fang, personally arranging her accommodations. Qiong Fang followed him through the flower hall, around several corridors, hearing the sound of cold water flowing. Deep in the flower garden was a side building. Even in winter, the cold plum blossoms were fragrant. Qiong Fang smiled slightly: “This place is so elegant—was this the former young lady’s boudoir?”

Pei Ya took out keys and opened the room door. Another fragrant scent, refreshing to the heart, wafted out. He had people bring in the luggage and said: “It’s been uninhabited for a while. Yesterday I had people clean it. I hope Your Ladyship sleeps comfortably.”

With bright windows and clean desk, the boudoir remained as before. Qiong Fang thought of the beautiful woman she had seen that day and looked around. Indeed, many paintings hung on the walls—landscapes, flowers and birds, figures and ladies. Qiong Fang examined the calligraphy and paintings carefully, feeling the brushwork was graceful with considerable charm. The signatures were either “Wutong Hermit” or simply the character “Qian.” They seemed somewhat different from what she had seen in the capital, so she asked Pei Ya: “Miss Gu has been painting for decades, hasn’t she? The painting style seems somewhat different.”

Pei Ya took down a colorful landscape painting and explained: “This piece is from her girlhood, a meticulous painting called ‘Sunny Evening Mountain and Green Pool’—among the most exquisite.” Seeing this painting was brilliant and colorful, and hearing it was meticulous painting, Qiong Fang thought of the Tang dynasty great painter Li Sixun and looked around to find that meticulous paintings occupied most of the room. This meticulous painting style pursued truth, beauty, and lifelike appearance. After outlining the shapes of stone forests and mountains and trees, colors were applied in brilliant splendor, called “gold and blue-green.” Other subjects like palaces and figures, flowers and birds and architecture also belonged to the meticulous painting category. Seeing the brushwork was delicate and complex, Qiong Fang couldn’t help but nod and smile: “So beautiful—truly worthy of the reputation of gold and blue-green landscape painting.”

Pei Ya stroked his beard and smiled: “So beautiful… In her girlhood she most hated those three vulgar words. To switch to ink wash painting, she even became a disciple of Wutong Hermit to study elegance. However, her early freehand brushwork was limited and not as accomplished as her meticulous painting.” He shrugged and smiled: “If she had heard us say these things back then, she definitely would have been angry.”

Qiong Fang said “Oh” and asked: “She would have been angry then—what about now?” Pei Ya squinted his old eyes and shook his head: “So many years have passed… she has long since grown up.” He stood on a stool and hung the “Sunny Evening Mountain and Green Pool” back up, then said: “Over these ten years her skill has greatly advanced. With more life experience, she doesn’t seek superficial form and color. In hardship she finds greater fulfillment; in wealth and honor she achieves poignant beauty. Now she has formed her own style, no longer constrained by these schools and methods.”

Qiong Fang praised: “So she’s already become a master. Next time I see Sister Gu, I must pester her to paint for me.”

Pei Ya smiled: “Rather than envying fish at the deep pool, better to go home and weave a net. If you ask her for guidance, Your Ladyship could also learn to paint in the future. I hear she’s been taking some disciples these past two years.” Qiong Fang held up her folding fan and laughed: “I’m a little monkey—I can never sit still. She couldn’t manage me.”

Pei Ya laughed: “That may not be so, that may not be so.” Suddenly feeling his words were improper, he quickly said: “This humble person spoke thoughtlessly—please don’t take offense, Young Lady.” Qiong Fang was also very pleased with this Mr. Pei, feeling his speech was natural, far beyond what people like Li Rufeng could compare to. Hearing him speak humbly, she immediately smiled: “You spoke spontaneously, and I got a little advantage in return. Uncle Pei, may I call you that?”

Lord Pei was delighted and quickly said: “For Young Lady to address me thus truly overwhelms this old man.” Qiong Fang smiled charmingly: “Uncle Pei is a court senior—what overwhelming is there? Let’s make a deal—you won’t be distant, I won’t be offended. How about that?”

Pei Ya laughed heartily: “Excellent! Then let’s have ‘no distance, no offense.'”

During their conversation, the officials had already carried the luggage into the room. Seeing it was dinner time, Pei Ya took Qiong Fang back to the flower hall. With the New Year season, every dish was appropriate for the occasion. Qiong Fang invited Pei Ya to dine at the table together. This old man’s demeanor was normally quite cold, but after becoming familiar with Qiong Fang, he became witty and charming, entertaining everyone with laughter. This meal was quite enjoyable.

After dinner, everyone had leisure time and found their own entertainment. Song Tongming invited the Twin Eccentrics to gamble and organize games, apparently planning to team up and cheat Zhu Kang. Seeing Juan’er listless, Qiong Fang had a bright idea and suggested: “Come on! It’s rare we’ve come to Yangzhou—let’s go shopping and buy everything we want!” Girls always vent their anger with money. Though Jiuhua Mountain had many treasures, most were controlled by her senior sister, so Juan’er, the future sect leader, was naturally poor. But Qiong Fang was different—from a wealthy family, she never had to worry about money. Indeed, this strategy worked perfectly, immediately making Juan’er giggle with all her troubles swept away.

Returning to the guesthouse, Juan’er carried large and small packages while Qiong Fang was already exhausted. She instructed the maid to prepare hot water for a bath. The old wet nurse served beside her, seeing Qiong Fang remove her headband and scholar’s clothes, revealing jade-like soft skin and cloud-like black hair cascading over her shoulders. The old mama had originally thought she looked like a young man, but seeing such a delicate snowy body, she sincerely praised: “Miss is so beautiful—though you have the appearance of a northern girl, you’re like our southern ladies.” Qiong Fang lowered her phoenix eyes, her cheeks flushed, and said softly: “My father is from the capital, but my mother is a Hangzhou girl.” She couldn’t help but laugh: “Actually, our Qiong family ancestors were from horseback origins, fighting north and south. Before coming to the capital, who knows where they were from.”

The old wet nurse had also heard of the founding Duke Qiong Ying’s reputation and smiled. She was about to say more when she saw Qiong Fang take an iron fan from her clothing, then remove a fire gun, putting them piece by piece under her pillow. The old wet nurse was stunned, thinking: “This girl’s ancestors must have been bandits.” In her amazement, she mumbled incoherently, unable to speak, only repeatedly agreeing.

In the steamy room, Qiong Fang sat in the hot water, staring blankly at someone else’s boudoir, thinking: “So this is how official family young ladies’ chambers are so elegant. I must learn from this when I return.” She had been raised as a boy from childhood, with only subordinates and followers, no personal maids. Though nominally a young lady, she had never enjoyed a day of a young lady’s privileges.

In Yangzhou where every inch of land was precious, Miss Gu’s boudoir was exquisite and elegant. Though not very spacious, it suited Qiong Fang’s temperament. She had lived in large mansions since childhood—halls deep and wide, beams high, walls thick red brick, floors green ceramic tiles. Though appearing magnificent, they were mostly gloomy. In daylight, no matter how bright the sun, it couldn’t reach the center of the hall. At night, even with red candles lit, the dark corners of the great hall seemed to hide crouching figures ready to float out wailing at any moment. In houses like the Qiong family with such reputation, not only were they dark, but ancestral portraits hung everywhere like hanged ghosts. Great-grandfather and great-grandmother, high grandfather and high grandmother, great-father and great-mother—these large scrolls of terrifying ancestral faces hung all around, in corridors, flower halls, even at corners, always ready to frighten their descendant grandchildren.

Being a descendant of meritorious officials, living from childhood in a mansion four hundred years old, Qiong Fang deeply understood this experience. Frightened since childhood, when she grew up she had one thought—in the future she didn’t want a big house, only a small one. A small wooden table, a warm small bed with thick soft carpets, walls not allowed to hang portraits, at most like Miss Gu’s hanging some landscapes and flowers and birds. In such a nice place, she would light warm red candles and snuggle with her beloved, playing chess and reading books—anything would be fine.

Closing her eyes and smiling, thinking such thoughts, she nearly fell asleep in the bathtub. The old wet nurse, fearing she would catch cold, brought a charcoal brazier and woke Qiong Fang, letting her warmly dry herself.

The room was warm as spring. After changing into sleepwear, she was actually sweating a little. The sleeping gown was short-sleeved, moon-white with round collar and embroidery. Wearing it made the young lady more beautiful than flowers. Qiong Fang felt somewhat embarrassed and asked the old wet nurse to withdraw while she arranged her appearance alone.

Facing the bronze mirror, she gently lifted her jade comb and gathered her black hair into a bundle, slowly smoothing it. Qiong Fang looked at her reflection—the pretty beauty in the flower of youth with snow-white skin, but her face bore no rouge or lipstick, failing to do justice to her fine appearance. She lowered her head and sighed quietly, thinking: “I didn’t buy rouge or powder today, otherwise I could try some.” In the deep night it wasn’t good to disturb Juan’er to borrow some. For the moment she opened the wooden table drawer just wanting to find some rouge to use.

Opening the drawer, she found no rouge or powder, but several more paintings.

These paintings were stored very carefully, not rolled into scrolls but carefully folded and covered with silk protection. Qiong Fang was somewhat curious—the paintings hanging on the walls were all fine works, so these paintings kept so precious and carefully must be priceless treasures. Qiong Fang had no covetous intentions but was a girl with heavy curiosity, so she unfolded the paintings to look.

Looking closer, she couldn’t help but exclaim in surprise. These paintings were torn and fragmented, each ripped to shreds then glued back together with great effort. Qiong Fang flipped through several—none were intact. She was completely puzzled, not knowing why Miss Gu would do such painstaking work in her spare time. Could it be some strange brushwork technique?

Full of confusion, she continued looking down and soon came to the last painting. Qiong Fang looked carefully and saw this painting was perfectly intact with no glue marks. But the painting had harsh lines and bold style, depicting a mighty river with countless trackers pulling large boats along the shore in bitter labor—the brushwork completely different in style. Qiong Fang thought: “This is a man’s brushwork.” Looking at the signature, she saw two characters: “Lu Yun.”

These two characters “Lu Yun” had gentle brush intent, the ink color quite different in shade from the painting—it seemed like the boudoir’s owner had added them, not the original artist’s signature. Qiong Fang’s heart trembled as she murmured: “Lu Yun… Lu Yun… This name seems familiar from somewhere…”

She held her chin and looked at herself in the mirror, suddenly wanting to borrow some rouge and eyebrow pencil from Juan’er. Just as she was about to get up, she found it amusing and got up and sat down repeatedly. Finally, her bold nature emerged—she jumped straight onto the bed, rolled up in the quilt, and went to sleep.

Tired for a whole day, she thought she would fall asleep immediately upon touching the pillow. Who knew she would toss and turn—the boudoir’s waves of enchanting fragrance made her face red and heart racing. She covered her head with the quilt, thinking: “I wonder how grandfather and Ying are doing. I should write a letter home to ask.”

Just as she was about to lift the brocade bed curtains, suddenly a bitter sigh came from the room, faint and elusive.

Qiong Fang was startled. In the middle of the night with no one around, such mournful sounds could only mean either a thief had broken in or a ghost was haunting. She quickly felt under her pillow for the fire gun and gripped it tightly.

She dared not lift the curtains to look, pointing the gun barrel outside the curtains and squinting to peer out. She saw outside the brocade curtains was pitch dark with what seemed like ghost shadows quietly pacing back and forth. Qiong Fang became frightened, thinking: “This is a ghost, not a person.” She shrank in the quilt, trembling, when she heard a low sound—the drawer had been pulled open, paper pages rustled. Qiong Fang realized: “He’s stealing something!” Her mind cleared—whether human or ghost, a thief was no good sort. She boldly raised the fire gun in her right hand, lifted the brocade curtains with her left, shifted her gaze and was about to shout when she couldn’t help but nearly cry out in surprise. She saw a man standing before the bronze mirror with disheveled hair past his shoulders, barefoot and filthy—if not that strange man, then who?

This strange man had vanished without trace on the Jingzhou battlefield with no news for so long that hope was lost. Who would have thought they would meet again in Yangzhou? This person had traveled far from Jingzhou to Yangzhou—he must have come specially to see her. Qiong Fang was both happy and excited. She looked at the man’s back, remembering their conversation and behavior on the cliff, as if those phoenix eyes were still before her eyes. Her heart couldn’t help but pound as she smiled: “He must have come to thank me. In Strange Tales stories, monkeys carry fruit to give people, ants know gratitude. This water demon with boundless magical power probably came to give me a gift.”

Just as she was about to call out sweetly, the strange man walked to the bronze mirror and slowly sat down, gazing at the paper as if lost in thought. Qiong Fang was about to speak when she saw the strange man’s unusual behavior and lowered her voice.

The strange man sat alone before the bronze mirror, covered his face, and sighed softly. That nasal sound was choked with deep sorrow and bitterness, like weeping over all the grievances of his life, or like a heart full of resentment he couldn’t swallow. Qiong Fang listened in a daze, her eyes couldn’t help but redden with moisture, her heart also becoming sour and bitter.

This was not a human sound—how could life in this world be so difficult and helpless? Waves of heartache brought tears. Qiong Fang could no longer hold back her sorrow, and two lines of pearl tears also came rolling down. The strange man heard her awaken and immediately lowered his head, covering the paper silk, his feet silently gliding toward the door.

Qiong Fang woke as if from a great dream. She wiped away her tears, threw off the brocade quilt and quickly called: “Don’t go! You… where have you been these past few days?” The strange man turned his back, deaf ears and mute mouth, pushed open the room door and slowly walked out of the boudoir.

Qiong Fang saw him make no sound when landing, his shoulders motionless—suddenly looking, he truly seemed like an ancient house ghost. She felt somewhat afraid, then thought: “With great difficulty he fell into the net and was caught by this girl. Tonight I must find out his origins clearly so I can use him as help in the future.” Fearing the strange man would go far, she didn’t even put on shoes, holding the gun in her left hand and lamp in her right, about to go barefoot ghost-hunting in the haunted house on this night tour.

On the cold winter night, her little feet stepped on the wooden floor, cold to the bone. With a few thumping sounds she jumped outside the door. The long corridor was empty and desolate, but in the blink of an eye the strange man had vanished again. Qiong Fang rubbed her eyes and murmured: “This is really seeing a ghost—how did he disappear in a moment?” She wasn’t discouraged at all, just looked left and right, but that strange man truly seemed like a ghost, as if he had floated away through the air, leaving this sorrowful human world.

Dragons appear and disappear without showing their tails—looking ahead they’re in front, suddenly they’re behind. Where should she start searching? Qiong Fang stood dazed, thinking of giving up, when suddenly her stubborn nature flared. Gritting her teeth hatefully, she thought: “Dead water demon! Stinking water ghost! Disturbing people’s sleep in the middle of the night—just watch me drag you out and give you three resounding slaps!” She snorted a few times, thinking of that person’s pair of big dirty black feet, immediately sneering coldly: “Good! No matter how high your martial arts, you can’t possibly not touch the ground, right?” She lifted the oil lamp to shine, and indeed five zhang away were small black footprints. Qiong Fang giggled: “Serves you right for not washing your feet—no matter how far you jump, you can’t escape Young Lady’s sharp eyes.” She immediately used Jiuhua lightness skills and barefoot pursued.

Qiong Fang half-ran, half-jumped following the black footprints, turning several corners to reach a corridor where the footprints suddenly disappeared. Qiong Fang pondered for a moment, seeing doors tightly closed on both sides, not knowing whether the strange man was hiding behind them. Just as she was guessing, footsteps approached from behind—slow and weak, clearly an elderly person. Qiong Fang silently groaned—here she was in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, jumping around the Minister’s mansion in her undergarments and barefoot. If servants saw her, how could she explain? Just as she was thinking of a way to hide, an aged voice with Jianghuai accent asked from behind: “Is that Young Lady?”

This person spoke with the accent of Jianghuai region—undoubtedly Pei Ya. Qiong Fang, barefoot and in undergarments, her pretty face flushed red, could only cover her collar with one hand and turn around: “Uncle Pei.” Seeing her holding a fire gun in one hand and an oil lamp in the other, dressed like a thief-catcher, Pei Ya couldn’t help but ask in surprise: “Are there thieves in the mansion?”

Qiong Fang smiled awkwardly. Usually she maintained great dignity, not yielding even before martial arts elders, but now in the Minister’s mansion, all her unseemly behavior was witnessed by a steward. She spoke evasively: “I… I couldn’t sleep and wanted to take a midnight stroll…” Pei Ya asked strangely: “A stroll with a gun?” Qiong Fang’s face turned completely red as she nodded randomly. Having come out barefoot, the floor was bone-chillingly cold, so she stood on one foot, switching between her jade feet while speaking, looking like graceful dancing, quite charming and adorable.

Pei Ya didn’t make things difficult for her, smiling as he asked: “Cold?” Qiong Fang stuck out her tongue and laughed dryly: “Indeed quite cold.”

Pei Ya nodded with a smile, took out keys, and walked behind Qiong Fang. Just as he was about to unlock the door, it opened by itself, releasing the musty smell of books. Qiong Fang’s heart trembled, thinking: “This is a study.” Pei Ya said: “How about this—I can’t sleep either. Why don’t we go to the study for some tea?”

The door had originally been locked—how could it open so quickly? The strange man must be inside. Qiong Fang stepped forward and bounced into the room, lifting her oil lamp to shine around. She saw a long row of bookshelves, dark and concealed—even ten people could hide there.

Qiong Fang shifted her gaze and saw the windows were tightly shut. If the strange man had entered earlier, he was now trapped like a turtle in a jar. Qiong Fang smiled inwardly: “This water demon is quite shy, more afraid of people than the plum deer at my home. I must patiently tease him—mustn’t force him to dash against the wall.” Just as she was thinking, Pei Ya entered behind her, muttering: “Girls are truly delicate and adorable. Sigh… I only have one worthless son who fights and causes trouble all day, giving me headaches just looking at him…”

Seeing Pei Ya sit down in the room, Qiong Fang smiled slightly and found a wooden chair to sit on. Her toes were too cold, so she bent her legs and sat on her jade-white delicate feet to warm them. She intended to outlast the strange man until dawn—she wouldn’t give up until she got answers.

Pei Ya lit a charcoal fire and boiled a pot of warm tea: “You must be frozen.” Qiong Fang reached over to warm her hands by the fire, clicking her tongue: “So cold, even colder than Beijing.” Pei Ya stirred the charcoal: “This winter is indeed particularly cold. I’ve been in Yangzhou for decades and never seen such a harsh winter.” Soon the tea was boiling, and Pei Ya warmly filled a cup and handed it to Qiong Fang.

Qiong Fang took a light sip, then suddenly turned toward the bookshelf and called sweetly: “Mm, good tea—so fragrant and warm. It would be such a pity not to drink it.”

The great water demon remained elusive, but Pei Ya was stunned, asking strangely: “So fragrant? Perhaps I should have a cup too.”

Qiong Fang held the warm tea near her face, occasionally breathing on the hot vapor. Her black silky hair fell over her shoulders, and in the candlelight her cheeks showed a delicate flush, making her even more beautiful. Pei Ya, an elegant scholar in his seventies or eighties, only appreciated beauty without lustful thoughts. He smiled watching Qiong Fang, stroking his beard: “Seeing your charm reminds me of Qianxi.”

Behind them the bookshelf rustled softly. Qiong Fang was also curious: “Qianxi?” Then she realized: “He means Miss Gu.” She giggled: “Uncle Pei, speaking like this—do she and I look alike? But when I met her last time, I didn’t think so at all!”

Qiong Fang and Gu Qianxi bore no resemblance. Gu Qianxi had a more pointed face with long phoenix eyes slightly upturned, while Qiong Fang had fuller cheeks, a straight nose bridge, and large round bright eyes. Except for both being beautiful women, their appearances were completely different with no similarity.

Pei Ya smiled without answering, taking his own cup to drink, asking: “Do you sleep well in the room?” Qiong Fang breathed on her hot tea and nodded with a smile: “I love her bedroom—so elegant and refined, just like her.” Pei Ya smiled: “The top scholar’s beloved daughter, Yangzhou’s foremost beauty—how could her reputation be undeserved?”

In the dim candlelight, Pei Ya gazed at the study as if lost in thought. Qiong Fang suddenly said: “Uncle Pei, you and Minister Gu were good friends, right?” Pei Ya nodded: “We’re both from Yangzhou, knew each other since childhood. My cousin was even Siyuan’s concubine.”

Qiong Fang made a sound of acknowledgment: “Minister Gu was highly respected in scholarly circles. Whenever grandfather mentions him, he’s both respectful and regretful.”

Pei Ya picked up ink and ground it casually, smiling: “Respectful of his character and learning, regretful of his early death, right?” Qiong Fang nodded and said softly: “I suppose so.”

Both lowered their heads to drink tea. Qiong Fang listened carefully to movements in the room, secretly glancing at the bookshelf behind, when suddenly Pei Ya picked up scriptures from the table, casually flipping through them: “Have you read Minister Gu’s ‘Treatise on Doubt’?” Hearing mention of this eternal masterpiece, Qiong Fang naturally showed solemn respect: “Of course I’ve read Mr. Gu’s writings. They’re difficult and obscure—every time I recited his books, grandfather gave me extra beatings.”

Pei Ya couldn’t help laughing heartily: “Old Gu is dead and buried, yet still tormenting people from the underworld.” Seeing Qiong Fang fidgeting uncomfortably, he immediately teased: “Come, since you’re rarely in someone’s study, recite a few lines—let’s see if those beatings were deserved.”

Qiong Fang stuck out her tongue and said sweetly: “If I recite wrongly, Uncle Pei mustn’t hit me.” The girl’s playfulness was just joking, and Pei Ya laughed in response: “Such an adorable girl—I’d cherish you—who would bear to hit you?”

If a young man had said this, Qiong Fang would have shot him without hesitation. But Pei Ya had scholarly gentleman qualities, speaking neither humble nor arrogant. Though they’d only met yesterday, his words were already very warm. Though just a steward, he made Qiong Fang willingly consider herself a junior, showing none of her Young Lady airs.

Stealing a glance at Pei Ya, his eyes seemed quite eager. Qiong Fang thought: “Fine, I’ll humor him a bit.” She concentrated, taking a famous passage from “Treatise on Doubt,” slightly parting her cherry lips to recite: “I originally retired from activity… retired from activity…” Pei Ya poured hot tea and reminded: “Forgot the world.”

Qiong Fang’s face flushed with clouds of embarrassment, greatly ashamed: “Wrong on the very first line—how mortifying.” She drank some tea, coughed hard, and recited loudly again: “I originally retired from activity and forgot the world, a person of withered wood and dead ashes, yet my thoughts constantly dwell on… ancient… um… ancient loyal ministers…”

The ancient prose was like tongue-twisters, painful to read each time. Seeing she was about to embarrass herself again, she stole a glance at Pei Ya, who was casually flipping through books and drinking tea, a smile playing at his lips.

Qiong Fang was furious, her competitive spirit blazing: “You think this girl can’t recite it? I’ll shock you greatly.” She concentrated with determination and continued: “My thoughts constantly dwell on ancient loyal ministers and righteous scholars, chivalrous sons and sword-wielding knights. Reading their deeds, tears flow and I sob uncontrollably. Though now I cannot view wealth and honor as floating clouds, how can I completely forget my original aspirations? My body enters shackles, my heart… my heart um… receives… receives um… heaven…” When reciting from memory encounters obstacles, “um” and “ah” sounds naturally emerge. After racking her brains, what follows is a series of “ums” and “ahs.” Fortunately, she was beautiful with clear speech, so even her “ums” and “ahs” sounded pleasant. Qiong Fang broke into a sweat but couldn’t remember another line. Pei Ya quickly helped her out, clapping: “Reciting so much is truly remarkable.”

Qiong Fang knew he was being polite and couldn’t help but say bashfully: “I memorized this seven or eight years ago—quite embarrassing. Please clap more quietly.”

Pei Ya laughed heartily: “Not easy at all. My son only knows shady business—completely illiterate. If I asked him to recite, he probably couldn’t manage even the first four characters.” Qiong Fang laughed: “Your son is in business? What kind of business?” Now it was Pei Ya’s turn to be embarrassed. He coughed: “He deals in silver.” Qiong Fang blinked in surprise: “Forgive me, forgive me—is it a money house? That’s big business.” Pei Ya smiled bitterly: “Something like that. He runs gambling houses.” Seeing Qiong Fang speechless with laughter, Pei Ya cleared his throat: “Now that we’ve finished the good essay, let’s tell stories. Do you know why ‘Treatise on Doubt’ was written?” Hearing his continuous testing, Qiong Fang couldn’t help but spit: “Uncle Pei, it’s New Year—spare your niece.”

Pei Ya took up his brush to dip ink, writing while speaking: “The ‘doubt’ in ‘Treatise on Doubt’ originally meant ‘legacy,’ and ‘public’ comes from ‘palace.’ So ‘doubt public’ means ‘legacy palace’—this is one of the Three Great Cases of Zhengtong. You must have heard of it.”

Qiong Fang nodded: “The Legacy Palace Case was about Emperor Jingtai’s consorts, right?” Pei Ya nodded: “Exactly. Minister Gu wrote this ‘Treatise on Doubt’ specifically to criticize this current affair.” He picked up books again: “Come, let’s look at another essay…” Seeing Pei Ya change the subject, Qiong Fang was unwilling—the Three Great Cases shocked the empire and implicated countless people. Though she’d heard the names, being the current National Uncle’s beloved daughter, others weren’t comfortable discussing the cases in her presence, so she only knew the surface without detailed knowledge.

She pondered for a moment and said: “Uncle Pei, I rarely hear about these court affairs. Could you tell me more?”

The old scholar hesitated. Qiong Fang immediately acted coquettishly: “Uncle Pei, it’s just the two of us in the middle of the night…” At this point her face reddened as she glanced toward the back of the bookshelf: “Don’t you trust your niece?”

Pei Ya looked at Qiong Fang, seeing her sincere expression showed no cunning schemes, and sighed: “What should a village rustic fear?” Qiong Fang smiled slightly, watching him take the teapot and fill both their cups with hot tea. As the hot liquid gradually filled the cups, she heard: “The Three Great Cases… were three matters concerning the previous dynasty’s emperor… In the first year of Zhengtong, February brought the Tomb Destruction Case… March the Crown Prince Deposition Case, and by year’s end the Legacy Palace Case emerged.” Hearing these matters involved current controversies, thinking of her dear aunt being the current Empress, Qiong Fang felt worried but wanted to hear more details, quickly asking: “What was the Tomb Destruction Case?” Pei Ya lowered his head to drink tea and said quietly: “Dismantling the former emperor’s mausoleum.” Qiong Fang exclaimed in shock, asking tremblingly: “What about the Crown Prince Deposition Case?” Pei Ya showed no expression: “Deposing Jingtai’s crown prince.”

Hearing the shocking details of these two cases, Qiong Fang could only stammer, lowering her head: “The Legacy Palace Case… was… was about expelling his consorts… right?” Pei Ya smiled bitterly: “Not just consorts—even his legitimate empress had to be driven from the Forbidden City. These three cases were like three great hurdles—passing each one cost the court many officials. Those who survived all three without falling were either incredibly lucky… or… hehe…”

Qiong Fang felt terrible inside. Seeing tears in her eyes, Pei Ya said: “It’s not your concern—don’t take it to heart.” Qiong Fang gripped her teacup tightly and said softly: “So… so Minister Gu wrote this ‘Treatise on Doubt’ for them. I didn’t recite it wrongly after all.”

Pei Ya boldly reached out to gently stroke Qiong Fang’s hair, saying earnestly: “Siyuan wasn’t naturally a heroic knight, but he had no choice then. He endured humiliation through the first two hurdles, but when the third came, he couldn’t avoid it. Three ministers were appointed to handle this matter, and Siyuan unfortunately became one of them.” Remembering the past, he sighed: “These consorts were mostly elderly with no means of livelihood. After leaving the palace, they had nowhere to go. If their families wouldn’t take them in, they might fall into prostitution or become beggars—a worrying fate… Though ministers wanted to advise against it, the Tomb Destruction and Crown Prince Deposition cases had already crushed one Grand Secretary and over ten ministers. The emperor also forbade anyone from resigning. Siyuan knew defying orders meant death, but he wouldn’t collaborate in such immoral deeds. So he took a roundabout approach, hoping to achieve both goals—keeping his position while saving their lives.”

Qiong Fang exclaimed: “You mean the Scholar’s Studio…”

Pei Ya nodded: “The Scholar’s Studio of two dynasties specialized in discussing the world’s injustices. Siyuan established the studio and secretly published anonymous pamphlets to use public opinion to restrain the court, preventing the emperor from acting rashly.” His spirits soared as he finished his tea: “Then Siyuan decided to take the gamble. I advised caution, but he replied: ‘One chi of cloth can still be sewn; one dou of grain can still be planted; if two brothers cannot coexist, how can this world survive? How can the court survive? This saves governmental flaws—should have been done long ago.’ He raised thirty thousand taels of silver, paying from his own pocket to print books and promote discussion… The result… hehe…”

Qiong Fang turned away and said softly: “His property was confiscated…”

Pei Ya nodded darkly: “In the second year of Zhengtong, first month, Siyuan was arrested on charges of unauthorized criticism of current politics. This crime could be major or minor, but usually didn’t warrant death. Knowing the Court of Judicial Review would likely be lenient, the emperor took matters into his own hands. He commanded Imperial Guards to make arrests, then stopped salary payments without allowing any minister to intervene. This case bypassed the Court of Judicial Review—judgment before trial, arbitrary confiscation of property—already violated proper procedures, naturally causing ministerial discussions. When someone boldly inquired during morning court, the emperor flew into rage, ordering beatings while decreeing that if Siyuan wanted to leave prison alive, he must admit fault and draft the Palace Relocation Edict, otherwise spend his life in jail. When I had someone relay this message, Siyuan threw out a note saying he’d sat in prison and caused trouble—things had reached this point, no use turning back. As long as the Legacy Palace remained unprotected for one day, he’d sit in prison to show his resolve.” Qiong Fang shook her head: “Too reckless! Sitting in prison was one thing, but what about his family?”

Pei Ya sighed deeply: “Exactly what we ministers feared. Great households had over a hundred people! Siyuan wouldn’t admit fault, the emperor wouldn’t release him. The Gu family lost their salary, their Beijing mansion was confiscated—over a hundred people crowded in inns, how could expenses be managed? Seeing his mother weeping daily and concubines borrowing everywhere, they forced Qianxi out.” Qiong Fang exclaimed: “It was Miss Gu!”

Pei Ya reminisced about those years and sighed: “Siyuan should be proud—though he had no sons, he had a capable daughter. Lady Gu, accustomed to wealth and comfort, couldn’t handle great shocks. Only Qianxi and the concubine remained useful in the household. These two women usually didn’t get along, but adversity revealed true character. They consulted and first led the elderly and children to move, renting an old house, then sold all jewelry. The concubine managed internal affairs, Qianxi external—these two women began running around everywhere.” Qiong Fang asked softly: “Who could they turn to?”

Pei Ya said: “I was the first to come uninvited. Given my relationship with Siyuan, even if she didn’t seek me, I would have sought her. I analyzed the situation for her—in court, only a few had real influence. Besides your grandfather, Grand Secretary He and Second Grand Secretary Chen could help, but only two had connections with the Gu family: one was Mighty Marquis Grand Commander Wu Dingyuan, the other Five Classics Scholar Yang Suguan who supervised public opinion. To save someone, they had to work through these two.” Hearing this strategy made perfect sense, Qiong Fang nodded repeatedly: “What did they say?” Pei Ya said: “Wu Dingyuan had gone northwest to fight and wouldn’t return for a year or two—couldn’t be found immediately. Besides, this man’s court methods were harsh, far less clever and useful than Yang Suguan… Miss Gu knew her father’s situation was critical, so she visited him hoping he’d help save her father.”

Qiong Fang smiled slightly and interjected: “How could he refuse? Yang Wufu is Miss Gu’s…”

At this point the bookshelf behind them shook slightly. Qiong Fang quickly turned to look but there was no more movement. Afraid Pei Ya would notice, she quickly said: “What happened next? Did Yang Wufu agree?” Pei Ya said: “Yang Wufu said he would try his best.” Qiong Fang was delighted and interrupted: “I knew it! He definitely agreed. Then Minister Gu was released, right?”

Pei Ya smiled bitterly: “I haven’t finished—he said… he would try his best… to persuade Minister Gu to compromise.”

Qiong Fang was speechless with shock. Pei Ya continued: “Yang Suguan saying this was tantamount to polite refusal. Qianxi was furious—if her father was willing to admit fault, he would have come out long ago. Why would they need to beg others? The Gu father and daughter were naturally proud, so without arguing, she left in a huff.” Qiong Fang shook her head: “Yang Wufu actually refused to help—truly unbelievable.”

Pei Ya coughed: “Yang Suguan was naturally two-faced with a heart full of schemes. His words had deep purpose. I didn’t understand then either. The next day Yang Suguan found me and explained—he’d already petitioned to transfer this case to the Court of Judicial Review. As long as Imperial Guards didn’t interfere, Minister Gu wouldn’t be tortured or assassinated. He couldn’t guarantee when Minister Gu would be released, but he could ensure his safety in prison.” Qiong Fang exclaimed: “So he had already made arrangements… then… why did he anger Miss Gu?”

Pei Ya said: “Fighting the emperor means risking your head. For this whole matter to end well, Siyuan had to compromise. If Yang Suguan had shown old friendship and jumped to the Gu father-daughter’s side completely, Qianxi might have thrown a young lady’s tantrum and escalated the situation. Then the Son of Heaven couldn’t back down, and no matter how skilled Yang Suguan was, he’d be consumed by fire. So he needed Miss Gu to lose hope and help persuade her father.” Qiong Fang asked in a daze: “Did she do it?”

Pei Ya sighed: “If she had done that, she wouldn’t be Siyuan’s daughter. With old friends refusing to help and her father unwilling to submit, Qianxi went to visit her father in prison to understand his intentions. Siyuan was also hesitant and asked his daughter if she blamed him. Qianxi was quite calm—she said things had reached this point, they could only persevere. She would ensure her father had no worries.”

Qiong Fang nodded: “No wonder grandfather says she’s stronger than men—truly courageous.”

Pei Ya sighed: “The difficulties were just beginning. The Gu household had many dependents. Renting a large house, just three daily meals and living expenses were enormous each month. These people were accustomed to luxury and couldn’t economize. Seeing silver running out and unable to rely entirely on friends’ assistance, Qianxi returned to Yangzhou to liquidate the ancestral home and farmland, obtaining 6,200 taels of silver. Everything was done so her father could sit in prison with peace of mind.” Looking at the grand mansion around them, Qiong Fang nodded, finally understanding why this great house had been transferred to the court—it was sold then.

Pei Ya continued: “Selling the house for 6,000 taels temporarily solved urgent needs, but with over a hundred people, how long could this money last? After three months they were already struggling. When they tried to reduce expenses, the servants all caused trouble, clamoring to leave. Qianxi knew this wasn’t a long-term solution, so she consulted with the concubine to distribute the remaining silver at once, letting servants return home while she took a few loyal servants to a small house, planning to make a living selling paintings.” Qiong Fang clapped in approval: “Brilliant! Miss Gu’s painting style is superb—this would be good business.”

Pei Ya shook his head: “You’re young like Qianxi, not thinking that with her father becoming the emperor’s enemy, how could she continue refined pursuits? When Miss Gu made a big show of it, the emperor heard she wanted to sell paintings and was greatly angered. That month he ordered all painting and calligraphy trade in the capital taxed ten times over, and had sour scholars mock her paintings. Seeing few customers except old friends showing support, Qianxi had no choice but to stop business.” Qiong Fang felt chilled to the bone, thinking how that Miss Gu, a delicate woman without salary or property and unable to sell paintings, could manage. She murmured: “Then… what did she do?”

Pei Ya said: “When mountains don’t turn, roads do—she found friends to learn a trade. She started selling tofu.” Qiong Fang stared in amazement: “Tofu?”

Pei Ya recalled the past with a smile: “The old house the Gu family lived in had a very useful grinding stone. She and her personal maid ground and ground, using some strange recipes—the result was fragrant and tender. Miss Gu was beautiful, and when she called out sweetly in the neighborhood, everything sold out daily. Seeing business booming, the emperor was dumbfounded and issued another strange decree forbidding people to sell tofu. My precious young lady calmly switched to selling soy milk. When the court banned soy milk, she sold tofu pudding, fermented tofu, dried tofu, tofu skin. The emperor raged, but the court couldn’t ban everything—they couldn’t forbid eating soybeans, could they? Finally she won this battle.”

Seeing Qiong Fang’s amazement, Pei Ya’s spirits soared higher. He drank some tea and continued: “When the court compromised and lifted the ban, Beijing neighbors who respected Siyuan’s integrity desperately came to drink this ‘Minister’s Soy Milk’ and buy dried tofu and tofu skin. Every morning crowds lined up in queues stretching two full streets—truly bustling with customers…”

Qiong Fang breathed out a long sigh and laughed: “Fortunately Miss Gu was clever! Otherwise I wouldn’t have had soy milk to drink as a child.”

Pei Ya laughed heartily: “Exactly! With Siyuan having no worries, he could continue endlessly. The emperor was helpless and could only watch as the ‘Legacy Palace Case’ dragged on, letting the former emperor’s consorts live happily and freely.”

Qiong Fang listened quietly, then heard Pei Ya continue: “In the blink of an eye several more months passed. Siyuan had been in prison a full year—they couldn’t keep him indefinitely. The Court of Judicial Review, following ancestral rules, was about to open the case. Once legal judgment began, Minister Gu would have to be released.

Seeing this legal battle’s outcome decided with the current Son of Heaven as the loser—how could this be tolerated? Several despicable ministers took the opportunity to flatter him. Knowing they couldn’t handle the Minister, they sent ruffians and hooligans to smash the Gu family’s shop at night, trying to force Siyuan to compromise.”

Qiong Fang was shocked: “Underhanded tactics? What did Miss Gu do—fight them?” Pei Ya shook his head: “She knew no martial arts, just a weak woman. The Gu household had few servants left—several women couldn’t stop the thugs. They reported to officials but no one cared. Later it escalated—in broad daylight people came to harass and molest them… After several days of this, people were frightened and no customers came…” Qiong Fang gritted her teeth hatefully: “If I were Miss Gu, I’d definitely kill them all!”

Pei Ya shook his head: “With things reaching this point, the emperor’s meaning was clear. Though he couldn’t kill Siyuan, as long as Siyuan didn’t submit for one day, his wife and daughter wouldn’t have good outcomes. The Son of Heaven was truly angry—the entire court was silent as cicadas. Who dared interfere? Poor soy milk business was truly terrible. The concubine and young lady had to borrow money everywhere, making life difficult again.” Qiong Fang sighed: “What happened next? Did Yang Wufu think of a way to save him?”

Pei Ya said: “With the emperor truly angry, no one could persuade him alone. That November, when the Five Military Commissioners’ rotation period ended, Grand Commander Wu returned from the northwest. Hearing the Gu family’s plight, he quickly joined Yang Wufu in petitioning the Son of Heaven to release Siyuan. Grand Commander Wu was the number one founding rebel minister with extraordinary status. The Son of Heaven both valued him and didn’t want to bear eternal infamy, so he retreated a step. He issued an imperial edict stating that Siyuan needn’t admit fault—if he was willing to draft the Palace Relocation Edict, the court would not only release him but promote him to First Rank Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices and ennoble him as Baron.” Qiong Fang nodded vigorously: “The emperor is wise! Should have used both kindness and authority long ago!”

The candlelight flickered as the story reached its crucial moment. Pei Ya placed both hands on his knees, took a deep breath, and said solemnly: “In the third year of Zhengtong, Siyuan had been imprisoned for a year and a half. Five Classics Scholar Yang Suguan, carrying imperial orders, led me and Personnel Minister Zhao Shangshu Liang into the prison to visit him. Siyuan was eating and sleeping poorly, looking quite haggard. After we explained the situation, he understood the seriousness. Minister Zhao spoke plainly: ‘Throughout history, no one who openly opposed the emperor has survived. Only through our friends’ efforts on your behalf have we obtained this opportunity. Don’t make things difficult for yourself—the way to life lies in your brush. Write it. Afterward, we’ll all be court colleagues again.'”

Qiong Fang asked worriedly in a low voice: “Did he agree to draft the edict?”

Pei Ya shook his head: “Minister Zhao left paper, brush, and ink for Siyuan to consider alone. Having been friends with him for many years, seeing his silent demeanor, I knew he had other plans. Yang Wufu was also troubled. Knowing I was Siyuan’s longtime friend, he asked me to stay and persuade him further. After they left, I spoke privately with Siyuan: ‘With the new emperor’s political coup and the old emperor’s abdication, imperial family members fighting among themselves—we ministers are insignificant and can only go with the flow. Now even your family can’t be protected—you absolutely mustn’t be stubborn anymore. Agree to draft the edict.’ Hearing my urgent tone, Siyuan remained silent. I became anxious and desperately urged him: ‘Is it worth it? At this late stage in life, what could matter more than your family’s happiness? Write it! Not writing would be foolish!’ Thinking of her father’s fate, Qiong Fang held back tears: “Exactly—nothing is more important than family.”

Pei Ya sighed and continued: “Hearing my urgent questions, Siyuan remained quite calm, only quoting the most famous lines from ‘Treatise on Doubt’ to answer me. He said: ‘I originally retired from activity and forgot the world, a person of withered wood and dead ashes, yet my thoughts constantly dwell on ancient loyal ministers and righteous scholars, chivalrous sons and sword-wielding knights. Reading their deeds, tears flow and I sob uncontrollably. Though now I cannot view wealth and honor as floating clouds…'” Qiong Fang exclaimed, suddenly remembering the second half, and both recited in unison: “Though now I cannot view wealth and honor as floating clouds, how can I completely forget my original aspirations? My body enters shackles, my heart receives shackles, yet facing this vast heaven and earth, I respond with two characters…”

“Righteous Way!”

Pei Ya’s eyes filled with hot tears. Looking up to heaven, he wailed and struck the flint—with a sharp crack, the Kongming lamp burst into brilliant light, illuminating the entire room. Qiong Fang looked up and saw the brick wall behind Pei Ya, shocked into speechlessness.

The wall was covered with bloodstains and tears, pasted with memorial after memorial, all written with the two characters “Righteous Way”—some in blood, some with tear stains. The entire wall had at least forty or fifty pieces. Pei Ya burst into loud sobs, wailing: “After I left, Siyuan kept writing these two characters. He wouldn’t eat or drink, just kept writing and writing. That very night he finally… killed himself by ramming into the prison wall…”

The entire wall, stained with blood and tears, seemed like weeping ghosts crying out. Qiong Fang was spiritually overwhelmed and breathless, saying in a trembling voice: “Dear Heaven, these scholar-officials…” Pei Ya’s tears fell like rain. Looking up at the wall of bloody characters, he said sorrowfully: “Siyuan lived his whole life maintaining personal integrity, but in his later years couldn’t keep his official position. He was thrown into the imperial prison, his salary stripped away. All this suffering originated from these two characters…” He clenched his fists and said sadly: “Righteous Way! It means doing…”

“The right thing.”

Just then, a deep voice spoke from within the room. Both Pei Ya and Qiong Fang were startled and quickly took the lamp to shine toward the depths of the room. A disheveled man stood there, his body erect and neck raised, tears flowing down his cheeks, only gazing at the bloody characters on the wall.

Greatly alarmed, Pei Ya grabbed a letter opener from the table and asked nervously: “Who… who are you?” Seeing the strange man appear, Qiong Fang was both surprised and delighted: “Don’t be afraid of him… he’s my friend.” Pei Ya examined the man’s appearance—seeing his tattered clothes, wearing only a broken outer garment despite the harsh winter, disheveled hair and dirty face, he didn’t look like an official from Beijing. Fearing Pei Ya would drive him away, Qiong Fang quickly said: “Uncle Pei, continue the story—he won’t interfere.”

Hearing Qiong Fang’s repeated urging, Pei Ya looked the strange man up and down, wiped away his hot tears, and after a long silence continued: “On the morning Siyuan died, Beijing was covered in heavy snow. Before dawn, the Gu family opened their doors as usual, but strangely, the thugs who usually came to harass them had all disappeared. The doorway was empty and desolate, with only endless heavy snow. Not knowing what had happened, the Gu family prepared soy milk as usual, waiting for customers.”

Qiong Fang secretly observed the strange man while listening, seeing him lower his head in silent contemplation, not knowing his thoughts.

“At dawn, the newly fallen snow created a silver-white expanse without a single footprint. Just after the yin hour, the first customer appeared in the snowy ground—a grand official sedan chair that stopped right at the soy milk shop’s entrance. Everyone stared, not knowing which high official had come… Qianxi was living in seclusion then, having no contact with old friends. Seeing the sedan chair approach, she minded her own business without paying much attention. Then the sedan curtain lifted and someone stepped out…”

Qiong Fang trembled slightly and asked: “Who… who was it?”

Pei Ya said in a low voice: “Yang Suguan. He came to inform Miss Gu of the death.”

Though this matter didn’t concern her personally, Qiong Fang couldn’t help feeling heartache. Pei Ya continued: “Yang Suguan said nothing and sat down on a bench. Seeing it was him, everyone burst into tears. Yang Suguan was one of the case’s examining officials, ordered not to contact the Gu family. If he came now, something definite must have happened. Lady Gu fainted, my cousin also cried speechlessly. Only Qianxi didn’t cry—she suppressed her grief, brought a bowl of soy milk, and walked to Yang Suguan. Yang Suguan sat there, drinking that bowl of soy milk very, very slowly. After a long time, he finally placed copper coins on the table and left four words for the Gu family’s old and young. He said: ‘I did my best.'”

Qiong Fang bit her lower lip and said sorrowfully: “He didn’t do his best! He didn’t do his best! Why did Minister Gu commit suicide? Too foolish!”

Pei Ya wept and choked: “Siyuan’s suicide was both accidental and inevitable… Everyone should have expected he would seek death, yet everyone sat there with eyes wide open, hoping he would draft the edict and compromise, hoping he would bow and beg for mercy—finally driving him to death. I… I was one of them…”

Tears rolled down his face, full of self-reproach, as he choked: “Siyuan understood better than anyone the coldness of human nature. If he refused to draft the edict, the emperor couldn’t save face… As long as this political struggle continued, his family wouldn’t be safe. Everything had to be resolved through his death. Once he died, the emperor would be at peace, ministers would be relieved, and he could face his wife and children, face the world, face himself—he had no choice but to die…” Qiong Fang shook her head vigorously, crying: “Wrong! Wrong! Once he died, his daughter and wife still had to live hard lives. It wasn’t worth it… not worth it…”

Pei Ya wiped away tears and shook his head: “You’re wrong. Siyuan left something for his family.”

Qiong Fang cried: “Left what?” She pointed at the bloody characters on the wall and screamed: “Righteous Way?” The strange man, who had been motionless with lowered head, couldn’t help but tremble violently at these words, making hissing sounds in his throat, but under Qiong Fang’s sorrowful cries, no one noticed.

Pei Ya shook his head and said softly: “After Siyuan’s death, every day at dawn, regardless of cold wind or pouring rain, an official sedan chair would stop at the Gu family’s door. The person in the sedan, through wind and rain, would always drink a bowl of hot soy milk before going to Fengtian Gate to receive imperial audience.” Qiong Fang exclaimed: “It was Yang Suguan!”

Pei Ya nodded with a sigh: “It was him. He ultimately hadn’t fulfilled his trust. Siyuan used death to resolve political strife—everyone owed him a debt. Yang Suguan drank this bitter soy milk for a full four years.” Qiong Fang murmured: “Four years… a full four years…”

Pei Ya reminisced, speaking in a daze: “After Siyuan’s death, Qianxi changed greatly. From then on she had no contact with old friends and wouldn’t accept others’ charity. She just silently sold soy milk daily. Yang Suguan came every morning regardless of wind or rain. Either Lady Gu or my cousin would serve him—even if Qianxi encountered him, she would only force a bland smile, never conversing with him. Years passed… Suguan’s official position grew higher and higher, promoted to Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices. Qianxi also saved enough money and, following her father’s legacy, reopened the Scholar’s Studio.” Qiong Fang was shocked: “Dear Heaven! She… she risked it again?”

Pei Ya said: “Yang Suguan said he did his best, but Qianxi didn’t think so. She wanted to make things difficult for the court, difficult for everyone in the world. Suguan was then supervising national public opinion, but Qianxi found every way to print forbidden books. She not only circulated her father’s remaining manuscripts but constantly published new works by Li Duowu, Yan Shannong, Liang Ruyuan… She kept challenging court authority, waiting for Yang Suguan to arrest her…”

Qiong Fang said quietly: “Yang Suguan loved her deeply, didn’t he?”

The strange man trembled at these words, but Pei Ya showed no surprise, sighing: “Perhaps. At least in Lady Gu’s eyes, this was firmly believed. Day after day passed, Qianxi remained safe, and Yang Suguan’s daily morning bowl of soy milk never ceased. The higher his official position, the more conspicuous that bowl of soy milk became. Seeing this, the entire court dared not trouble the Scholar’s Studio. Eventually, everyone under heaven knew Beijing had such a place for clear discussion—it was a sacred hall in scholars’ hearts.”

Qiong Fang frequently wiped away tears, quite moved. Pei Ya continued: “Days passed one by one, and Qianxi grew older, no longer the young maiden of years past. Everyone saw this and worried. By the end of the sixth year of Zhengtong, Lady Gu fell gravely ill. Her final wish before death was to ask Yang Suguan to care for her beloved daughter. This Lord Yang readily agreed and proposed marriage to Qianxi right before Lady Gu. The two had spoken for the first time again after four full years. Afterward, Suguan followed ancient rituals for engagement and betrothal gifts, finally marrying Qianxi before Lady Gu’s spirit tablet—she was already twenty-seven, her prime beauty fading.” Qiong Fang listened in a daze, never expecting that Yang Suguan, a dragon among men with both literary and martial talents, would have such a bitter courtship.

Remembering that beautiful woman’s faint sorrowful expression, she asked in a low voice: “Why did Miss Gu consent to marry him? Was she afraid her mother couldn’t rest in peace?”

Pei Ya sighed deeply: “I initially thought so too. But later, reflecting further, I think Qianxi chose to entrust her life to Yang Suguan because she had already forgiven his wrongs while also relieving her own pain, casting aside all past events.” Qiong Fang repeatedly pondered this word “pain” and asked softly: “These past years, someone has been privately writing books specifically to criticize Yang Wufu, haven’t they?”

Pei Ya smiled bitterly, creating wrinkles across his forehead: “Not only now—when Yang and Gu married, wasn’t there plenty of criticism then? Yang Suguan was already a Grand Secretary of Zhongji Hall, while Qianxi was the Scholar’s Studio leader. Who could have known that the only daughter of a respected scholarly paragon would marry the current court authority who supervised public opinion? This marriage was too incompatible—not only court ministers opposed it, but scholars in exile also objected. Everyone said Yang Suguan had ulterior motives, wanting to enhance his own reputation.”

Qiong Fang spat: “Truly boring—criticizing even such matters.”

Pei Ya said softly: “Those in power at court must face national public opinion. Without criticism, it wouldn’t be a court.”

Dawn had long broken, with snow and morning light reflecting each other in peaceful quiet all around. Qiong Fang seemed to wake from a great dream, only lowering her head to gaze at the ground, contemplating Pei Ya’s words in a daze. At moving passages, the corners of her eyes had already reddened with moisture.

“Mr. Pei…” Just as she was thinking, a deep voice in the study said quietly: “I would like to ask about three matters.”

Though not loud, the voice made teacups and plates tremble slightly. Pei Ya and Qiong Fang heard it with alarm and turned to see the strange man speaking. Looking at him with arms crossed and expression showing neither joy nor anger, he had already taken a seat.

This strange man with disheveled beard and decaying clothes appeared to be a fallen beggar wandering the world. But once he began speaking, a natural pressure filled the room. When his gaze shifted, it was like the power of heavenly fire, like the purity of ice and snow, forcing Pei Ya to break into cold sweat. Though he knew no martial arts, he could tell this strange guest’s aura was so overwhelming that he must possess earth-shaking skills. Not daring to be negligent, he quickly bowed slightly: “What does the warrior… want… want to ask?”

“These years…” The strange man poured his own tea and drank: “How has the world been?”

This question was truly strange, as if asking after the world’s wellbeing. Hearing it suddenly, Pei Ya didn’t know how to respond. Qiong Fang was also bewildered and after long thought answered for him: “It should… should not be too bad…”

After hearing this, the strange man seemed neither to agree nor disagree. He slowly closed his eyes—once his eyelids covered them, the brilliant divine light disappeared. After a moment, he asked: “Let me ask another question—Jingtai’s consorts… are they still in the Forbidden City now?”

These words immediately made Pei Ya swallow hard. This matter involved the Gu Shangshu family—a dignified War Minister died for the third Zhengtong case. If in the end they still couldn’t protect this group of consorts, he truly died in vain.

In the complete silence, Pei Ya nodded and said softly: “They remain in the rear palace—His Majesty hasn’t troubled them.”

Qiong Fang cheered with laughter: “I knew it! His Majesty is still wise!” Seeing Pei Ya bow his head silently, she quickly coughed. The strange man asked calmly: “Who protected them? The Scholar’s Studio? Or Minister Gu?”

Pei Ya covered his face and shook his head: “What protected them wasn’t public opinion—it was the northwestern rebels.”

Qiong Fang was shocked: “Nu Cang Mountain?” Pei Ya nodded slightly: “After Siyuan’s death, the court situation was very bad. The new emperor emphasized politics while the people were unsettled, yet His Majesty still acted willfully. He chose Siyuan’s funeral day to prepare expelling the former emperor’s harem from the Forbidden City. This wasn’t just humiliating Siyuan—he wanted to warn everyone that he was the world’s unique Righteous Way.”

Qiong Fang murmured: “Then Nu Cang Mountain attacked…”

Pei Ya nodded: “Correct. That month the northwestern rebels occupied all of Gansu Province, raising Former Emperor Jingtai’s banner and self-proclaiming as ‘Angry King,’ forcing His Majesty to rescind the order to avoid giving these people further excuse for rebellion.” Qiong Fang asked softly: “Were they truly loyal to the former emperor?”

Pei Ya snorted coldly: “All political schemes… all political schemes… Jingtai had irreconcilable blood feuds with these rebels—when were they ever loyal? These people just wanted to use him as a front…”

Qiong Fang asked tremblingly: “A front?”

Pei Ya sighed: “During the dynastic restoration, they had already become prisoners. Seeing Jingtai’s imperial commissioners willing to surrender, they secretly contacted the former emperor’s loyal subordinates, jointly killed Chen Luoshan, and reestablished their formation. Afterward, using the former emperor’s sudden death as pretext, they repeatedly accused the current imperial court of moral deficiency to win over former dynasty officials, reorganize armies, and expand strength… In just a few years they commanded 700,000 troops—from northwestern tribes to former dynasty generals to disaster refugees, all flocked to the bandit stronghold, then self-styled as ‘Great Duke, Heaven’s Way is Impartial, Loyal and Brave Angry King.’ The rebels and court alternately negotiated and fought. Combined with severe droughts these years, this world… even the Golden Immortal Buddha would find it difficult to govern…”

With dual powers fighting, human affairs were chaotic and confused—how the world’s situation stood was self-evident. This explanation answered the first question. The strange man pondered carefully, then suddenly raised his eyebrows and asked gravely: “Why does sir speak of drought? Please explain.”

Pei Ya said: “In the first year of Zhengtong, summer, Beijing’s well water suddenly dried up, then continuously spread—no one knows why. Since then, winters grow colder and summers more scorching. These years, wells are dug deeper and deeper, but water quantity is scarce and yellow-brown. Combined with abnormal weather, crops struggle to grow. Rice prices have risen from two taels of silver per dan to five taels.”

The strange man said indifferently: “Six taels means famine, seven taels disaster, eight taels and above means exchanging children for food.”

Hearing his familiarity with governmental classics, Qiong Fang was also surprised. Pei Ya sighed: “Heaven won’t provide food—with less grain, the northwestern war becomes more urgent. In the second year of Zhengtong, all of Gansu Province fell. Even though Wu Dingyuan was extraordinarily brave, he couldn’t stop the locust-like rebels and finally retreated to defend Tongguan Pass. Court control also became more severe—the two created a vicious cycle, getting worse and worse, which is why the Three Great Cases emerged one by one.”

Hearing this, the strange man remained silent, then said quietly: “Mr. Pei, may I ask one final matter?” Pei Ya nodded slightly. The strange man sighed deeply and asked in a low voice: “Is Qianxi… happy now?”

The name “Qianxi” was an intimate name—how could an outsider use it? Pei Ya exclaimed and asked back: “Why do you ask this? This is someone’s private matter—isn’t this question rather rude?” The strange man restrained all his extraordinary aura, momentarily appearing like a waste of a person. He sighed softly: “I respect Minister Gu’s character and hope his beloved daughter finds happiness. Please, Mr. Pei, don’t spare your guidance.”

Pei Ya heard his sincere tone, but those eyes in the disheveled beard and hair were full of sorrow. Staring at the man’s face, Pei Ya felt a strange sensation, thinking: “Something’s wrong—this person must be familiar with the Gu family.” He examined the strange man up and down, thoughts spinning rapidly in his mind, thinking of past events. The strange man lowered his head and said softly: “Is Mr. Pei unwilling to speak plainly?”

Pei Ya stared at the strange man and shook his head: “I’m sorry—I can’t answer this question.” The strange man asked softly: “Why?” Pei Ya looked up at the wall full of “Righteous Way” and said quietly: “I can’t describe what happiness looks like. How can I answer you?”

The strange man slowly stood up, his body seeming to carry ten thousand pounds of chains. Watching him slowly walk toward the door, Pei Ya said gravely: “Friend, what is your true background? Can you tell me?” The strange man said softly: “My name is already in this room. If Mr. Pei still remembers me, he should recall.” Having spoken, he left through the door.

Qiong Fang called out: “Don’t go! Wait…”

Pei Ya stared at the man’s retreating figure in silent contemplation. In less than half a moment, he exclaimed “Ah!” He took out a scroll from the drawer and spread it on the table. Qiong Fang was very curious and quickly looked. She saw the white paper had already yellowed, with two lines of characters written on it. She slightly parted her cherry lips and read: “Drinking and eating lack spring water—how can plain water sustain life?” This handwriting was thin and angular—Gu Siyuan’s own hand. Qiong Fang thought: “This is a couplet.” Looking at the second line, the paper showed flying dragons and dancing phoenixes in grass script like flowing clouds, reading: “Grinding stone hemp powder, sharing rice can fill hunger.”

This scroll was actually a brilliant couplet. Qiong Fang was completely confused and asked frantically: “Uncle Pei, who was that person?”

Pei Ya’s face was full of bitterness, only shaking his head repeatedly and choking: “It’s him… it’s him…” Qiong Fang couldn’t understand the meaning. Knowing the strange man’s footsteps were swift and would soon be gone, she didn’t ask more questions and quickly turned to leave.

Chasing to the corridor, wind and snow were desolate, but she saw no trace of the strange man. Qiong Fang ran back and forth searching—not only corridors and eaves but even the servants’ quarters in the back courtyard, all searched, yet no sign of the strange man. He had truly vanished.

She ran frantically in the corridor and nearly collided with someone. Looking up, it was Suanpan Guai, who held a horse-like long face and carried some rice porridge and fried dough sticks—apparently going for breakfast. Qiong Fang quickly asked: “Have you seen that strange man?” Seeing her barefoot, Suanpan Guai immediately laughed: “Isn’t the strange person you? Still looking for more?” Qiong Fang spat and turned to run again, wanting to call out but not even knowing the person’s name. Frustrated and angry, she finally stamped her foot and stopped.

Initially traveling south was just to find Ning Bufan, then finding the strange man. After spending several days with him, she increasingly felt this person’s words and actions revealed strangeness—not the strangeness of being unconventional, but an inexplicable unfamiliarity, as if this person didn’t belong to this human world at all, but had flown from beyond the heavens and accidentally fallen into the mortal realm.

Qiong Fang thought: “How foolish of me—why would this strange man come to this mansion? Why would he know the young lady’s boudoir and the master’s study? He must have some connection to the owners here…”

Now Qiong Fang no longer planned to keep this person—she just wanted to know what “thing” she had brought out of Guizhou. Whether this person was human, ghost, demon, or beast, she had to figure it out.

Exhausted, she slowly walked back to the study to ask Pei Ya for clarity. The room was empty with servants cleaning up. Seeing an old wet nurse rolling up a white paper from the table, Qiong Fang had a sudden thought, called to her, and took it herself to examine. The paper still showed those two couplet lines. Qiong Fang squinted in hard thought, then suddenly noticed the paper’s corner where the ink was fresh black, apparently written by Pei Ya. Reading quietly, Qiong Fang read out the two characters she had seen the night before.

“Lu Yun?” Qiong Fang was completely bewildered, thinking: “Again this person—is he that great water demon… but what is Lu Yun’s background?” Unable to make sense of it, having not slept all night, her mind was as chaotic as grass script. Her large eyes half-open and half-closed, muddled and confused, she returned to the boudoir and called for someone to bring water to wash her feet. After jumping around barefoot all night, she had inevitably joined the ranks of the black-footed gang.

After washing her small feet, lying on the fragrant pillow covered with Miss Gu’s fragrant brocade goose-down quilt, Qiong Fang yawned repeatedly and finally dozed off hazily.

It grew warm around her… blazing summer day, noisy and sweltering. She had come to a large street surrounded by common people. Oh, she was sitting in a carriage with a tall elderly man beside her—that was grandfather! Her body swayed as the carriage moved along, then stopped.

The road was crowded… blocked ahead… somewhat boring, might as well look around. Hmm, two dignified men stood by the roadside—on the left a rotund fat man, on the right another tall man…

A very conspicuous person… eight chi tall perhaps. He wore colorful official robes, appearing to be a young official. Looking at his profile as he spoke with the fat man, his face bore a smile. His cheeks were somewhat thin, nose bridge straight—quite handsome.

Oh, the fat man pointed toward her. The young official seemed to hear something and slowly turned to look at her, his face still showing surprise. The fat man whispered in his ear, both their faces bearing smiles… so annoying…

Sigh… those crystal-clear eyes turned toward her… no choice but to give him a smile…

Pop pop crack crack… firecrackers sounded, gongs and drums clamored, waking Qiong Fang. She opened her eyes to see yellow twilight before her—evening glow shone into Miss Gu’s boudoir. This sleep had lasted a full day until sunset.

Firecrackers hurt her ears. Qiong Fang’s head ached terribly as she reluctantly covered her ears and slowly walked to the window. Looking outside, she saw a temple fair parade on Yangzhou streets with many people setting off firecrackers in celebration. With New Year approaching, that’s why they were so enthusiastic. Qiong Fang frowned and covered her ears, about to firmly shut the window and jump back to bed for more sleep, when suddenly a figure at the street corner caught her eye, making it impossible to look away.

The setting sun shone slant, crowds of celebrating people paraded through streets. At the street corner stood a few scattered people, among them a man leaning against an iron shop entrance, wearing brown cloth robes, back bent and waist curved, a carrying pole at his feet, putting together wooden boards and iron pots. Beside him a craftsman held gold leaf, constantly biting it with his mouth, apparently fearing he’d gotten fake lead or waste copper.

Iron pots and bamboo wood assembled piece by piece—in the blink of an eye, the carrying pole became a noodle vendor’s stand. Qiong Fang stared blankly, thinking: “This is a noodle seller.”

The man shouldered the noodle stand and received change from the iron shop owner. Evening glow and colored light reflected that face, bit by bit entering her sight…

“This young master is a first-rank jinshi scholar returning north to take up the position of Changzhou Prefect…” The window slightly open, cold wind continuously poured in from outside. At this moment Qiong Fang exclaimed as grandfather’s words echoed in her ears. She finally remembered—on that hot, annoying summer afternoon before the Mid-Autumn Festival in the thirty-fourth year of Jingtai, she had already met this person.

“Lu Yun!” Standing by the window, Qiong Fang forcefully pushed open the shutters and shouted loudly toward the boudoir owner’s lover: “Return my money!”

On the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth month in the tenth year of Zhengtong, with New Year approaching, the former dynasty’s last top scholar raised his head. His face was pale and clean, his hair black, those sword-like eyebrows still there, phoenix eyes still there, and empty purse still there. Except for that god-like scar between his brows, everything remained as before…