Once the meal was over, Cheng Chang returned to his room, gave up trying to explain further—there was no point wasting his breath.

He got out of bed and straightened his robes, finding he was dressed in a white garment. The white fabric was made of pure, unblemished cloud-brocade, its sheen like moonlight, like drifting clouds. Even Cheng Chang, having spent a year as a young prince, couldn’t help but be startled at the sight of such priceless material—cloth worth its weight in gold, inch for inch.

Feng Tun, bowing beside him, was full of apology. “Bodhisattva, this humble one’s family runs a silk shop. If you don’t care for these robes, feel free to change into others. This humble one is truly slow-witted—not knowing what the heavenly immortals wear, though this humble one has heard the phrase ‘seamless as heaven’s own garments’ before, these are mortal robes after all, stitched with needle and thread—what a sin that must be.”

Cheng Chang: “…”

Never mind. No point explaining. Drop it.

He asked, “You said just now that it’s currently the tenth year of Zhaoyuan’s reign?”

“Yes, it’s early in the second lunar month of the tenth year of Zhaoyuan’s reign. This humble one found the bodhisattva in February of last year—no doubt the bodhisattva was resting your eyes at the time, but time in the mortal world passes so quickly. In the blink of an eye, the world changes utterly—for the bodhisattva, closing and opening your eyes is but an instant, yet the seasons have already turned through spring, summer, autumn, and winter.”

Cheng Chang: “…”

By this account, a full year had passed since the fire at the Imperial City Bureau.

Yangzhou wasn’t far from Jinling—if he hired a carriage, he could make it there in a single day. The trouble was, he had no idea what the current state of affairs in Jinling was. If his guess was right, with Prince Yun having fallen from favor and Emperor Zhaoyuan’s health failing, it should be Prince Ling’s turn now to hold power at court.

He himself had always been a thorn in Prince Ling’s side. If he showed his face openly and was discovered by Prince Ling’s people, he might well end up dead on the road before he even reached Jinling.

Cheng Chang didn’t dare act rashly, and asked, “Do you know what the current situation is like in the capital?”

“Shamefully, this humble one has never been to Jinling and doesn’t know much about it.”

Cheng Chang asked further, “Have you heard of the Marquis Zhongyong’s household?”

“What—what household? A marquis’s household?” Feng Tun said, awestruck. “That’s among the most prestigious households under heaven. In the mortal world, only families of noble rank and lineage could live there.”

He hadn’t even heard of the Marquis Zhongyong’s household—clearly he wouldn’t know Yun Xi either.

Cheng Chang sighed inwardly.

Seeing Cheng Chang fall silent for a moment, Feng Tun thought it over and asked, “Bodhisattva, do you need to go to Jinling? To learn about the current state of the court?”

Seeing the man look so knowing, Cheng Chang asked, “Do you have a way to help me find out?”

“No,” Feng Tun said. “But you’re a bodhisattva. All you need do is count on your fingers, and all the great affairs of the realm will reveal themselves in your heart.”

He then stared at Cheng Chang earnestly, clearly eager to witness such a feat.

Cheng Chang: “…”

He looked at Feng Tun and explained, “I’m currently trapped in a mortal body. My powers are limited. I can’t divine anything this way.”

“Oh.” Feng Tun seemed to suddenly understand. “Right, of course—immortals walking the mortal realm can’t use their heavenly forms, they must first take on physical shape. Of course, of course, the bodhisattva speaks truly. This humble one nearly forgot.”

He then recalled his earlier request for guidance—no wonder the bodhisattva hadn’t known what to offer guidance on. He’d taken mortal form and lost his powers.

At this thought, he asked, “Now that the bodhisattva is in mortal form, having just woken from such a long slumber, are you hungry?”

Without waiting for Cheng Chang’s answer, he immediately went outside, called for a servant, gave some instructions, then came back in and said respectfully, “This humble one has already had the servants begin preparing a meal.”

With that, he personally fetched water for Cheng Chang and attended to his washing, then led him to the dining hall, gesturing toward the table. “Bodhisattva, please, eat.”

After the meal, Cheng Chang went back to his room. Feng Tun then had the entire household come in, introducing each family member to Cheng Chang one by one. Afterward, he closed the door, leaving only his younger son Feng Guo in the room, and together they bowed to Cheng Chang, saying they had a matter on which they sought his guidance.

Though Cheng Chang was no bodhisattva, this family had, after all, cared for him for a full year—offering some advice seemed the least he could do. “Go ahead,” he said.

Feng Tun said, “It’s like this. This humble one has long benefited from the kindness of Registrar Li of the Ministry of War, and we’re on good terms. Yesterday, hearing he’d resigned and returned home, I brought two bolts of fine silk to pay him a visit. Registrar Li was perfectly well when this humble one saw him—but no sooner had I left than he was strangled to death in his own woodshed. This humble one has now run into this matter and doesn’t know what to do.”

Cheng Chang said, “This doesn’t sound like it has anything to do with you.”

“True, it truly has nothing to do with this humble one,” Feng Tun said. “But when this humble one visited Registrar Li, he mentioned to me that the reason he’d resigned was because the Ministry of War had lost a defense map of the northern frontier—and that this map had some kind of problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“Registrar Li didn’t say in detail. He only said he’d sensed something amiss with the defense map before, and once it was stolen by the great thief, he feared the truth would come out, and so resigned his post.”

“At the time, Registrar Li was simply chatting idly with this humble one, and didn’t elaborate further, so I didn’t press him. Afterward, when I was leaving, I thought to say goodbye to the household steward, so I went around by the back gate, back into the Li residence. Ah, this humble one used to deliver vegetables to the Li household in years past, so I know that back path well.”

“As it happened, the steward wasn’t there at the time. This humble one was about to leave when I heard some commotion from the woodshed—it sounded like Registrar Li’s voice—so I went closer. This humble one heard someone ask Registrar Li, ‘Do you know about the northern frontier’s defense map matter?’, asking him, ‘Did you embezzle it yourself?’, and ‘Where exactly is the northern frontier’s defense map?’ Registrar Li didn’t answer, only begged for mercy. This humble one wanted to go in and help him, but looking through the woodshed window, I saw a man dressed in black, his face covered, already strangling the life out of Registrar Li.”

Cheng Chang asked, “Men trained in martial arts have extremely sharp hearing. You were right outside the woodshed—didn’t he notice you?”

“Ah, well, it’s like this. Registrar Li had been struggling the whole time, and seemed to knock something over during it, so the man in black didn’t notice this humble one. And when I left afterward, some children were playing loudly in the neighboring alley, which happened to cover the sound of my footsteps.”

“So really, it’s all thanks to the bodhisattva’s protection that this humble one wasn’t silenced by that man in black.”

Cheng Chang: “…”

“But this humble one has thought it over since, and no matter how you look at it, a life has been lost, and Registrar Li was an old acquaintance of mine besides. That’s why I’ve come to ask the bodhisattva what I should do.”

Cheng Chang made a soft sound, thought it over carefully, and said, “If the Ministry of War’s defense map was stolen, that means the theft reached inside the imperial palace itself. This should be a major case—surely it’s already under investigation from above.”

“It is,” Feng Tun said. “Not only is the capital investigating, they’ve sent a high official all the way here to Yangzhou to inquire into Registrar Li’s death.”

Cheng Chang was taken aback. “Someone’s come from the capital? Who is it?”

“That…” Feng Tun looked a bit troubled. Earlier, Prefect Liu had summoned him to the office, only saying a general wanted to question him, without specifying which general it was.

But Feng Tun’s younger son had had the presence of mind to look into it, and said, “In answer to the bodhisattva, this humble one has already asked around. The one who came from Jinling to Yangzhou is the current fourth-rank General Mingwei.”

Cheng Chang made a soft sound of acknowledgment.

He wasn’t familiar with the military officials at court—the only names he could recall were Wei Jie as the fourth-rank General Zhongwu, and Yun Xi as the fifth-rank General Dingyuan.

Feng Guo went on, “I heard General Mingwei only came to ask about the bandit-catching side of things for now. In a few days, the court’s supposed to send someone else. Bodhisattva, what should we do now?”

Cheng Chang understood the Feng family’s concerns. The theft from within the imperial palace was already a shocking, major case, and judging by Registrar Li’s dying words, the stolen defense map itself had some kind of problem—and border defense was a matter of the utmost importance to the state.

The waters here ran deep and murky. Getting entangled in this recklessly could well cost them their lives.

And if whoever had killed Registrar Li was simply an accomplice of the thief—that would be one thing. Registrar Li, in charge of the Ministry of War’s storehouse, might have known something about the thief’s identity, and been killed to silence him.

But the man in black who had killed Registrar Li had, in the end, been urgently asking after the whereabouts of the defense map itself—as though desperately afraid the map might be lost for good.

That was deeply strange.

There simply wasn’t enough to go on. Cheng Chang couldn’t puzzle it out for the moment, and after some thought, said to Feng Tun and Feng Guo, “Sit on this for now. Don’t tell anyone.”

The two of them immediately agreed. “Yes.”

Cheng Chang asked further, “Do you… have any way to take me to see the Yangzhou prefect, or the official who’s come from the capital? Only so that I can see them—without them seeing me.”

“This…” Feng Tun and Feng Guo exchanged a glance. After a moment, an idea struck Feng Guo. “In answer to the bodhisattva, yes, there is a way. Here in Yangzhou, there’s a tradition—every year on the Waking of Insects at the start of spring, the prefect leads the officials up the mountain to make offerings to the mountain god. If the bodhisattva wishes to catch a glimpse of the prefect or the official from the capital, all you’d need to do is blend in among the accompanying commoners.”

The Waking of Insects was only two days away—very soon.

Cheng Chang thought it over, then nodded. “Good. On the day of the Waking of Insects, take me to see this Yangzhou prefect.”

Every flower has its own branch, and every story its own thread. Meanwhile, that same day, after Yun Xi had finished questioning Feng Tun, she carefully studied the blood letter Registrar Li had left behind.

The letter was incomplete, clearly written in a state of panic—besides pleading his innocence, it also stated that the northern frontier defense map in question hadn’t been touched in years, and shouldn’t have gone missing.

The Yun clan of the Marquis Zhongyong’s household had guarded the northern frontier for decades.

If this defense map hadn’t been moved in years, then it must have been the deployment plan used back when her father, Yun Shuguang, was still stationed on the frontier.

Yun Xi found herself puzzled, wanting to find someone from the Ministry of War to ask, but with her currently in Yangzhou, there was no one on hand to resolve her doubts.

She could only set the matter aside for now, and seeing dusk settling in, returned to her lodgings, shed her official robes, and changed into ordinary clothes.

It was a water-green skirt ensemble, very simple in style—yet on her, it was as though a single radiant blossom had bloomed from a vast, rolling bamboo sea, vivid and striking.

So much so that the moment she stepped out of her room, Cheng Ye, who had come looking for her, nearly stared in open astonishment.

Yun Xi bowed to him first. “Young Prince.”

Cheng Ye said, “General Yun, Prefect Liu has prepared a meal in the Hall of the Bright Mirror at the prefectural office. He’s invited us over for the evening meal.”

Yun Xi adjusted the bamboo scroll case strapped to her back and said apologetically, “Please make my apologies to Prefect Liu on my behalf, Young Prince. I have urgent business to attend to, so I won’t be able to join.”

“You’re going out? What about dinner, then?” Cheng Ye asked, and added, “What business do you need to attend to? Let me come with you.”

Yun Xi paused a moment, then shook her head. “It’s a personal matter I need to see to. I won’t trouble the Young Prince with it.”

She added with a smile, “Dinner’s simple enough—I’ll just buy a couple of hot buns on the way.”

Cheng Ye seemed about to press further, but Tian Si, coming in from the outer courtyard just then and seeing her about to head out, called after her, “A—A’Ting, come back early, come back early.”

Yun Xi glanced at him and nodded. “All right.”

With that, she hurried off.

Since Prefect Liu had gone to such trouble, Cheng Ye and Tian Si couldn’t very well disappoint him, and the two of them headed together toward the Hall of the Bright Mirror.

Cheng Ye had a guess forming in his mind, wanting to ask about it but somehow hesitant to voice it. Only once they reached the entrance of the Hall of the Bright Mirror did he finally ask Tian Si, “Where’s Yun Xi off to?”

Tian Si hesitated for a long moment, then said, “She—she’s gone to look for the Third Young Master.”

At this, before Cheng Ye could say anything, Prefect Liu, waiting inside the hall, was taken aback. “Isn’t the Third Young Master already gone? I heard Prince Cong’s household already held funeral rites for him.”

“That’s right,” Tian Si nodded. “But A’Ting—A’Ting says the Third Young Master has only gone missing. That he must still be somewhere in this world.”

“Last time, that was, that was last winter, when she came back from Lingnan—she’s, she’s been looking for him ever since. No matter where she goes, she brings, brings a portrait of the Third Young Master, asking, asking door to door. That’s, that’s the bamboo scroll case on her back. She, she spent good money, hired the very best, painter, to paint it—it looks more, more like the Third Young Master even than the one on the imperial notice.”

Prefect Liu clicked his tongue in astonishment. “Well, this official only knew that General Yun and the Third Young Master were on close terms—never imagined it went quite this deep. Is General Yun perhaps… in love with the Third Young Master?”

“Yun Xi is someone who values loyalty and deep feeling,” Cheng Ye cut in before Prefect Liu could finish. “That’s simply who she is. The Third Young Master once helped clear the old Marquis Zhongyong’s name, and she must have taken that to heart. Now that she’s learned he’s met with misfortune, of course she’s gone out to search for him.”

“That’s right,” Tian Si said. “A’Ting—A’Ting has always been someone who, who values loyalty and deep feeling. Everyone, everyone at the Marquis Zhongyong’s household is like that.”