Su Guiyan still wished to say something more, but Han Linfeng had already stepped forward and draped an arm around his shoulders with an air of easy familiarity, steering him toward the door as he spoke: “I have a few household matters to see to, so I may be a little while. Go on — keep Teacher Shao company in the side hall for a drink first. Just yesterday he mentioned to me that your recent essay showed real originality and deserved to be savored at leisure.”

And with that, the slender young man was ushered — without any room to decline — into the rear garden.

Meanwhile, Su Luoyun continued waiting for her brother to return, and yet the courtyard gate remained utterly still.

She could hardly go to the Shizi’s residence to drag him away herself, and so she sat in her room, turning over the account books with only half her attention.

She waited and waited — not for her brother’s return, but for a page boy from the Shizi’s household. The page relayed that Shizi and Master Su were getting along splendidly and intended to keep Master Su for the evening meal, and that Miss Su was invited to join them for dinner at the residence as well.

Su Luoyun did, in truth, feel a measure of gratitude toward the Shizi — yet she would sooner sacrifice the proprieties than invite any further entanglement with this man.

But her brother was at that very moment a guest in his home. He was young and did not always know when to stop — if she did not go, he might drink too much and give offence, and that would be a problem entirely of its own.

Su Luoyun thought it over. Whatever else might be said, she first needed to bring her brother home.

Earlier that afternoon, she had already paid a deposit to a housing agent and rented a small residence some distance from here — more convenient for getting to the shop as well. They would be moving tomorrow.

Looked at that way, seeing off an old neighbor with a visit before the move was simply the done thing, a matter of common courtesy that could not be skipped.

With that resolved, she asked the page boy to wait, tidied herself up briefly, and headed out with Xiangcao.

The fragrant pearls and the remaining balance had already been sent over the previous evening. Technically, her accounts with the Shizi were settled in full — but arriving empty-handed was still not quite right.

And so Su Luoyun stopped at the pastry shop at the corner of the lane and bought four boxes of delicate cakes, asking the shopkeeper to pack them in brocade cases with decorative ties, then proceeded to the Shizi’s residence.

Her plan was to offer a proper and ceremonious expression of thanks, politely decline the invitation to dinner, and then take her brother home.

When the Shizi’s steward led her through the residence, the distinctive fragrance of camphor root again drifted to her nose — it seemed she had been brought to Han Linfeng’s study.

Han Linfeng was not with Su Guiyan. He was in the study alone, passing the time standing at his writing desk, tossing a few arrows one after another into a large ceramic vase some distance away on the floor — a light, rhythmic clanging accompanying each toss.

Even when the neighboring young lady entered, the Shizi continued his leisurely game without interruption. After listening to her courteous words of thanks, he glanced idly at the boxes she carried and asked with mild disinterest: “So formal — even brought boxes along. Have you wrapped up another installment of silver inside?”

Luoyun blinked, caught off guard, then realized he was making an oblique reference to her earlier pretext of sending money to even the accounts.

She pretended not to catch the implication and replied with a composed smile: “A new pastry shop just opened at the corner of the lane. Their freshly made chestnut cakes are rather pleasant. It seemed improper to come with nothing in hand when expressing my thanks, so I bought a few for Shizi to try.”

Even as she said it, Su Luoyun was half aware that her offering was a little out of place.

Among ordinary households, bringing pastries and refreshments as a token of gratitude was entirely proper and unremarkable. But the man before her had been raised amidst wealth and luxury — a merchant-class gesture like this would surely not impress him.

Still, she was a common person, and her gift was an honest expression of thanks. She could not elevate herself to the station of the noble gentlemen who would return favors with pearls and jade.

The gift was given, the sentiment conveyed — and so she intended to quietly collect her brother and make a graceful exit, without overstaying her welcome.

But before she could finish her polite pleasantries, without any sound of approaching footsteps, the boxes were lifted from her hands — followed by the sound of lids being opened.

Right before her, the man picked up a piece of chestnut cake and bit into it.

“The flavor is indeed delicate and sweet. These are the small chestnuts from Anxi, are they not?”

It seemed the Shizi’s discernment in matters of food and drink was no affectation — he genuinely knew his subject well. Luoyun gave a quick nod. “I am pleased Shizi enjoys them. Might I ask where my brother is at the moment?”

At her question, Han Linfeng replied without any sense of urgency: “In truth, the fault lies with me for having pressed the young miss to accept the frankincense pearls in the first place, and thus bringing this whole affair upon her. If anyone ought to make amends over drinks, it should be me. I hear from Master Su that you have already found a new residence and are about to move away — is that right?”

Su Luoyun confirmed it with a nod, adding: “The rooms I currently occupy are a little worn and in need of repair. It seemed impractical to spend money on renovations, and now that the shop has brought in some earnings, I thought it best to rent something in decent condition first.”

Han Linfeng said, without any shift in expression: “In that case, all the more reason for me to give my neighbor a proper send-off. And besides, your brother’s examinations are nearly upon him — I have been meaning to host a small dinner to wish him success on the imperial rolls. Timing is as good now as any other day. Please, stay and share a cup with Guiyan.”

There was even a certain logic to the invitation.

Teacher Shao of the Shizi’s household served both residences: in addition to instructing the Shizi, he had given Guiyan a number of lessons as well. By any reasonable reckoning, Guiyan was now the Shizi’s fellow student under the same teacher.

The bond of shared scholarship was not a light thing. Even as Su Luoyun attempted a measured refusal — citing matters awaiting her at home — her brother had already settled himself in the dining hall with the old teacher, the two of them cheerfully exchanging cups.

The old teacher, possessed of a deep sense of pedagogical responsibility, had taken to offering examination strategy and essay-writing tips as his accompaniment to the wine, chatting with Guiyan at length over their drinks.

Seeing this, Luoyun could hardly barge in and disrupt the old teacher’s enjoyment. She had no choice but to sit down and see the occasion through to its end before taking her brother home.

Without her sight, even her own dining table held its complications — but there, Xiangcao always arranged the dishes in a fixed pattern, and the occasional misdirected chopstick was of no consequence among family. Here, in the unfamiliar surroundings of the Shizi’s residence, with that unfathomable man seated beside her, she had neither the ease to reach for food nor any wish to make a spectacle of herself in front of others. She sat in something close to discomfort.

But then Han Linfeng spoke: “When we set the table, my steward invited Miss Xiangcao to arrange the dishes according to your household’s customs. To your left is braised pork belly, cut into pieces — it can be lifted with a single poke of the chopsticks. To your right is perilla-fried eggs, and there is a spoon resting at the edge of the dish for easy scooping. As for the dishes further away, a serving maid can plate them for you.”

Su Luoyun extended her chopsticks tentatively — and found it to be exactly as he had described.

As it happened, both dishes were among her favorites.

With a host so considerate, she had no further grounds for hesitation. Throughout the meal, the Shizi frequently served dishes to her plate.

Unable to refuse such attentive hospitality, she silently picked up her chopsticks and ate a few bites, while listening to the lively conversation between her brother and Teacher Shao.

Then, without warning, the fragrance of camphor root drifted closer — the nobleman seemed to have shifted his seat nearer to her, and was leaning in once more to place something in her bowl.

“The young miss is eating very little. Is the food not to your taste?”

Su Luoyun replied with measured courtesy: “I have always had a small appetite — a few bites and I am satisfied. Shizi need not trouble himself serving me. Please, eat and drink as you like.”

Han Linfeng seemed not to hear her, continuing to attend to her bowl with the same attentiveness. Then, as if in passing, he remarked: “I hear the young miss has an uncle who traveled north before his time in the military. What manner of business took him there?”

Luoyun’s thoughts stirred. Her uncle had indeed gone north — and after squandering the family’s assets, had even thrown in his lot with a faction under Cao Sheng’s banner, waging guerrilla fighting against the Tieft people for a full year.

Had her mother not fallen gravely ill, her hot-blooded young uncle would never have returned. He might well have left his bones scattered across the northern wastes, dying there with no one ever the wiser.

But that wild, buried Yun Bin Tian Shang – Chapter of the past was known only within the Hu family. It had never been spoken of to outsiders — it was not the sort of thing to be publicized. So why did Han Linfeng know of it?

Of course. He had connections to Cao Sheng as well. Could he have heard something of her uncle’s involvement?

Luoyun’s thoughts moved quickly, but she replied only with vague composure: “I was very young at the time. How would I know anything of the affairs of my elders?”

Han Linfeng smiled lightly and changed the subject with easy grace, asking where Luoyun planned to move. She answered each question in measured, courteous terms.

He toasted her several times throughout, and she drank a cup or two.

In short, it was the kind of meal that required constant vigilance — every word carefully weighed, every meaning quietly turned over.

When the dinner at last came to an end, Su Luoyun let out a quiet breath of relief and was just about to tell her brother to take his leave, when the old teacher invited Guiyan back to his study — he wanted to lend him the inkstone and brush stand he himself had used during his own examination days, as a token of good fortune.

It was indeed a custom of the Great Wei dynasty: to borrow the writing implements of a successful candidate of previous years was considered an auspicious omen for one’s own sitting.

As they made their way toward the study, Han Linfeng walked alongside Su Luoyun the entire time, speaking quietly to guide her path.

His manner was refined and impeccable in every respect — a model of hosting.

And yet whenever his footsteps went completely silent and the clean scent of camphor root seemed to drift suddenly to one side or the other of her, Su Luoyun could not suppress a quickening of her heart.

She did not let a trace of it show, of course — her smile remained composed, her bearing steady.

What she did not reveal was that each time Han Linfeng drew close to speak to her, the fine hairs along the back of her neck rose without fail, as though scattered millet grains had been disturbed by a breath of air.

Han Linfeng noticed it all, and said nothing.

When they reached the study, the two women — Luoyun and Xiangcao — remained outside rather than following the men in.

While the three of them — master, student, and teacher — occupied themselves choosing brushes and inkstones, Su Luoyun took Xiangcao for a slow walk through the garden, waiting for them to emerge so that she could bid farewell to the host and go home.

Come tomorrow, with everything loaded onto a cart and carried away, Su Luoyun resolved she would never set foot anywhere near Green Fish Lane again.

She had drunk several cups at dinner — nothing particularly strong, but now her head felt light and drifting, pleasantly unmoored. That Shizi was truly a man seasoned in the art of the table; his ways of pressing a cup on one were endless, and there had simply been no refusing him.

Just then, a serving maid came to summon Xiangcao, saying that Master Su had too many things to carry out and needed her to come help bring some of it.

The maid’s tone was urgent. Xiangcao guided Luoyun to a pavilion, settled her on a seat, asked her to wait a moment, and hurried off.

Su Luoyun could hear voices from the study not far away — they were not far from her, and sitting alone in the pavilion did not mean she was entirely isolated.

Carried on the mild haze of the wine, the tension that had gripped her mind for so long gradually loosened. She leaned back against a pavilion column, closed her eyes, and let herself rest for a moment — waiting to leave once they were done.

But just then, a sudden rush of air — as though someone had moved swiftly and silently to stand very close — and a low, hoarse voice spoke near her ear: “Why have you been following me here? Who sent you to keep watch on me?”

That low, rasping voice was identical to the one Han Linfeng had used on the boat when he had held a blade to her.

He… why would he say this? Did he suspect that her living nearby had been deliberate — that she had been tracking and surveilling him all along?

The question came with no warning. For one fraction of a moment, Su Luoyun went rigid — then forced herself to calmness and replied: “This commoner does not understand what Shizi means by—”

She stopped mid-sentence. A cold realization swept through her — she had made a mistake.

She had said the wrong thing.

She was alone. And she could not see.

If she had genuinely never recognized that Han Linfeng was the man from the boat, and someone suddenly spoke to her in that hoarse voice out of nowhere — without being able to see the speaker’s face — her only natural reaction would have been to cry out for help, or to plead in a panic. She would not have calmly addressed the hoarse-voiced man as Han Linfeng.

She had caught herself and reined in the words halfway — but it was already too late. Even blind, she could imagine perfectly well the expression on that man’s face as he stared at her now.

“So… you recognized me all along.” The rasping voice had returned to its customary refinement, but the tone was as cold and cutting as the edge of a blade, sharp enough to make one shudder.

Outside the pavilion, the fragrance of flowers drifted pleasantly on the air. From the study not far away, laughter still floated out. But within the pavilion, Su Luoyun felt as though she had been plunged into the depths of a bitter winter — cold rippling through every part of her — and what remained of the wine’s warmth turned to rivulets of cold sweat along her spine.

She drew a slow, steadying breath and replied with all the composure she could muster: “I truly do not know what Shizi means.”

Han Linfeng idly raised his hand and brought his fingertips to his nose — a faint residual fragrance lingered there. He turned it over slowly in his mind. It seemed to have been around the time he vaulted the wall and caught her that her manner toward him had grown noticeably more distant.

It must have been then — she had caught the scent of that distinctive Liangzhou fragrance on him, or identified him through some other detail.

It was only today, hearing Su Guiyan’s passing remark about the incense, that Han Linfeng had understood the reason.

He had lured Su Luoyun into the residence — first with a dinner to put her at ease, then a turn through the garden to further loosen her guard — and then turned abruptly to test her. And the little fox had indeed let her footing slip.

Watching her still straining to appear calm and hoping to bluff her way through, Han Linfeng offered her no quarter. He said, in a mild tone laden with meaning: “The ancients say it takes a hundred years of shared fate to cross a river in the same boat. And now, it seems, we have become neighbors as well. Truly, ours must be a bond of more than a hundred years.”

He had made reference to the boat. Luoyun felt her heart sink steadily with each word. He was pressing her like this — was he intending to give her no way out at all?

The thought prompted her to lean back slightly and lower her voice: “I am nothing more than a small trader in fragrant goods. Though it happens I have lived close by, I have had no dealings with you — I only wish to live out my days in peace. Why go to such lengths to test me, and leave neither of us any room to maneuver?”

Han Linfeng’s face no longer held its habitual air of idle ease. His gaze went cold and still as he studied the young woman before him — holding herself together with visible effort, her face drained of color.

She was not wrong. She was still young — and to have been dragged suddenly into something so foul and dangerous was, by any measure, an unlucky and dreadful thing.

He said evenly: “And what does the young miss intend to do? Report it to the authorities and testify to what you know?”

Luoyun let out a quiet, bitter smile. “I am blind. How would I ever point you out before the authorities? And besides — if I had intended to report it, I would have beaten the drum at the yamen the very same day and never let things come to this pass. As for what happened on the boat — I have not spoken a word of it to anyone. Guiyan knows nothing whatsoever. If Shizi has any compassion, I ask only that you consider my brother’s youth — and let him go.”

As she spoke these words, her palms were damp with sweat.

The man before her was someone who had broken into a military encampment alone, someone for whom snapping a man’s neck required no more effort than breaking a twig. Even if he had dealings with rebel factions, he was still a nobleman of the Great Wei’s imperial family — making a commoner disappear without a trace was no great difficulty for someone of his standing.

By now, Luoyun had let go of any other thought. She only hoped that by accepting her own fate quietly, she might keep her brother clear of it — that she might call up some trace of mercy in the Shizi and ensure Guiyan walked out of this residence safely.

She could not see, but she could well imagine what Han Linfeng’s expression looked like as he stared at her now — likely sizing her up, calculating the neatest way to do away with her so that nothing would be left to trace.

When a person is near death, the mind turns to regrets.

In that suspended moment between life and death, Luoyun leaned against the pavilion column. She felt the pang of never seeing her brother grow up safely — never seeing him marry and have children of his own. And she could not bear to leave her shop, that shop which turned a profit as easily as water flowing — she had only just begun to prove herself, to show that she was not entirely without worth.

And the long dark days had only just begun to hold some promise of brightness.

With that thought, Su Luoyun could only close her eyes in helpless resignation and wait for Han Linfeng’s verdict.

She did not know that in this moment, crystalline tears clung to her closed lashes — her lashes trembling like the wings of an uneasy butterfly, fragile and pitiable in a way that invited tenderness.

If word of his involvement with Cao Sheng were to leak, the consequences would be catastrophic. Han Linfeng would naturally not take that risk.

The safest course of action, of course, was to silence this young woman permanently.

Beneath his mild and amiable exterior, he had long been accustomed to a hard and cold heart. There were many ways to dispose of her without leaving a trace — most of which did not even require him to act personally.

But those methods were too bloody. And when he imagined them being visited upon this unfortunate young woman, a certain unease surfaced and gave him pause.

He slowly raised his hand and reached toward her slender neck. That neck was too delicate — it would not take much.

In the end, his broad palm did not descend. Instead, his fingers moved only to brush aside the few strands of hair plastered by cold sweat to her cheek.

At that very moment, someone emerged from the study.

Han Linfeng withdrew his hand without any perceptible change in manner and said lightly: “There are too many people here — this is not convenient. Young miss, please mind your words. We will speak further shortly.”

In just those few brief exchanged words, Su Luoyun had walked the razor’s edge of a drawn blade.

Her brother had just come out of the study, entirely unaware, and was cheerfully eager to show his sister the large inkstone he had just received as a gift. Xiangcao followed behind him, carrying a finely woven reed book box. The two of them chatted and laughed as they made their way down the garden path toward the pavilion.

At that moment, Han Shizi spoke up: “Master Su sits his examinations the day after tomorrow — I will not keep you both any longer. Please, Master Su, retire early and rest well, and may you place atop the golden rolls.”

Guiyan hastened to return the courtesy and thank the Shizi for his good wishes.

Luoyun had half-expected him to detain her on some pretext. She had not imagined he would simply release both her and her brother with such easy composure.

Rather than relief, she felt her heart tighten. She suspected he intended to remove all traces of the matter at the root.

If he let the two of them return home tonight and then arranged for the old residence to catch fire in the small hours — killing them and burning away the evidence — he would achieve two ends at once, leaving nothing behind.

The thought sent her gaze wandering, half-dazed, in the direction of Han Linfeng’s voice. She pressed her lips together and silently questioned the truth of his words.

Han Linfeng, his tone unhurried and even, said: “It is getting late. Miss Su should go back and rest. If sleep does not come, you might sit out in the courtyard and enjoy the moon — these past two evenings have offered a fine moonlit sky. A shame to let it go to waste.”

At these words, Xiangcao and Su Guiyan both instinctively looked up at the sky — but when they had left the house at dusk, the weather had already turned overcast, and now the heavens were an unbroken sheet of darkness. It looked as though rain would fall before midnight.

Inviting a blind woman to admire the moon was already a rather remarkable suggestion — inviting her to do so on a rainy night was something else entirely. It seemed the Shizi had also drunk a little more than was wise.

Su Luoyun said nothing more. She fell silent and followed her brother home.

It was only when she changed out of her clothes that Xiangcao noticed, belatedly, that the back of the young mistress’s outer garment was soaked through with sweat.

She exclaimed in surprise: “It was not even warm today — there was a pleasant breeze throughout the garden. How on earth did you perspire so much, miss?”