That night, word came from the capital that Chai Ping would arrive at the first hour of the morning the next day.

Prefect Liu spent the whole night on edge. He’d barely drifted off against his pillow when someone outside called out, “My lord, Lord Chai from the capital is almost here!”

Prefect Liu rushed to the hall in a hurry. Mindful of Chai Ping’s current standing and influence, he no longer dared to weep, and sat properly upright, waiting anxiously, until he heard the sound of a carriage arriving outside the office.

Prefect Liu went out to greet the arrival, bowing deeply. “This humble official respectfully welcomes Lord Chai.”

He then apologized profusely. “This humble official was careless and negligent, and through his own fault lost the blood letter Officer Li left behind before his death. Please punish this official as you see fit.”

Chai Ping smiled. “There’s no need to blame yourself, Lord Liu. Officer Li’s hanging case is closely connected to the theft of the defense map from the Ministry of War, and now that the blood letter has been stolen as well, it’s very likely the work of the same group of thieves. If they dared to break into the imperial palace itself, what’s a mere prefectural office to them? I imagine even if you’d set up an impenetrable net, it still wouldn’t have been enough to stop them.”

He had a kind, gentle face and spoke in soft, measured tones. Prefect Liu’s heart, which had been lodged in his throat, settled back down after hearing this.

“That said, the theft of the blood letter is no small matter. Before I left Jinling, Prince Ling personally instructed me to make sure the thief who stole it is caught.”

As Chai Ping spoke, he stepped aside and gestured to a man behind him dressed in vermilion official robes, with thick brows and narrow eyes. “This is Commander Cao, currently serving as an officer in the Privy Council’s Patrol Bureau. Prince Ling personally selected Commander Cao and two hundred soldiers to accompany me to Yangzhou this time. Should any trace of the thief appear, I hope Lord Liu will have the prefectural constables cooperate fully with Commander Cao.”

Prefect Liu said, “Of course, naturally.”

As they spoke and were about to head to the storeroom behind the hall to search for clues, Yun Xi emerged from the back courtyard of the office with A’Jiu.

Yun Xi had risen very early that day, intending to finish her official duties quickly, then take advantage of the Awakening of Insects mountain god ceremony to make inquiries around the Changhui Mountain area about the third young master’s whereabouts.

Seeing Chai Ping, she paused briefly, then nodded. “Lord Chai.”

Chai Ping’s gaze fell on the bamboo painting tube slung across Yun Xi’s back, and he paused slightly before smiling. “General of Illustrious Might, working hard as always—out on official business so early.”

The two of them had only a passing acquaintance, so without much further exchange of pleasantries, each went about their own business.

Prefect Liu led Chai Ping to the storeroom where the evidence was kept, pointing to the innermost row of shelves. “This is where Officer Li’s blood letter was stored. When the thief came, there were over a dozen guards posted both inside and out. The thief first knocked out the outermost guards, then broke through to the inner room, grabbed the blood letter, and fled.”

“From what you’re describing, Lord Liu, this wasn’t a covert theft but an outright robbery?”

“Commander Cao puts it exactly right—it was indeed an outright robbery. But this person was so skilled that no one could match him. If he chose to take it by force, the office guards had no way to stop him.”

Chai Ping asked, “What did this thief look like?”

Constable Wang, standing beside Prefect Liu, said, “He was wrapped in black clothing with his face covered, so it was hard to see clearly. I only recall he was of medium build, somewhat slender, and extremely agile.”

Chai Ping asked Constable Wang, “You personally led the pursuit at the time?”

“Yes.”

Chai Ping glanced at Commander Cao. “Go test Constable Wang’s skill.”

The courtyard outside the storeroom was quite narrow. The two men exchanged seven or eight moves in mere moments. Afterward, Commander Cao withdrew and bowed to Chai Ping. “Reporting to you, my lord, Constable Wang’s skill is not weak at all. If that thief was able to single-handedly hold off Constable Wang and over a dozen constables at once, his skill must far exceed my own.”

Chai Ping frowned. “That formidable?”

He glanced around, then asked, “After stealing the blood letter, where did this thief go?”

“Reporting to you, my lord, the thief didn’t waste time engaging with us—he grabbed the blood letter and scaled the wall immediately,” Constable Wang said.

He then led Chai Ping’s party through a small side gate of the courtyard to a pond beside the alley. “Seeing us in relentless pursuit, he led us in circles around this area until we were completely disoriented, and then he vanished.”

“Vanished?”

“Yes,” Constable Wang said. “The thief last appeared near this pond. We searched not only the nearby streets and alleys but also set up checkpoints at every intersection, and even had men search the water—but there was no trace of him at all.”

Hearing Constable Wang’s account, Chai Ping fell into thought.

Based on what Constable Wang described, their pursuit and search arrangements hadn’t been at fault.

No matter how skilled the thief was, he shouldn’t have been able to escape the streets surrounding this office—so why had he simply vanished?

After a moment, Chai Ping suddenly said, “Something’s wrong.”

He asked Constable Wang, “Are you certain that after stealing the blood letter, the thief didn’t linger to engage with you at all, and instead scaled the wall directly to flee?”

“Certain,” Constable Wang nodded.

Seeing Chai Ping look as though he’d realized something, Prefect Liu asked cautiously, “Has Lord Chai spotted some clue?”

Chai Ping didn’t hide his thoughts. “Based on this thief’s behavior, he’s highly skilled and bold, and his sole objective was to steal the blood letter Officer Li left before his death. That’s why he broke into the storeroom so decisively and fled the moment he had the letter in hand. If that’s the case, why would he then lead you all in circles around this area for half an hour? Wouldn’t it have been better to leave the city as soon as possible?”

“There’s only one explanation. He wasn’t familiar with this area.”

Prefect Liu clicked his tongue. “But if this thief wasn’t familiar with the area, then it should be even harder for him to have disappeared. After circling around for so long, his stamina should have been nearly spent—why would he vanish without a trace in the end?”

Chai Ping furrowed his brow in thought. “That part, this official hasn’t worked out either.”

He asked Constable Wang, “Are you certain that after the thief vanished that morning, you never saw anyone else suspicious?”

“Reporting to you, my lord, certain.”

Prefect Liu added, “Reporting to you, my lord, aside from a few people who regularly deliver vegetables and wine near the office early in the morning, Constable Wang and his men truly saw no one suspicious that morning. This humble official also confirmed this with Guard Qin from Jinling—that is, Qin Jiu, who follows General Yun.”

Chai Ping paused. “Why would you ask her?”

“Reporting to you, my lord, Guard Qin is General Yun’s personal escort. On this trip to Yangzhou, the general hadn’t originally brought her along, but that morning, just as Constable Wang and the constables were pursuing the thief, Guard Qin happened to arrive at the office looking for General Yun. So this humble official asked her about it.”

Hearing this, Chai Ping fell silent.

Slowly, the confusion in his brow cleared, replaced by a look of understanding.

“This Qin Jiu—how is her skill?”

This question stumped everyone present. A’Jiu had grown up in the northern frontier and had rarely lived in Jinling, so among the military men gathered here, none had ever actually crossed weapons with her.

After a moment, it was Commander Cao who spoke up. “Reporting to you, my lord, none of us have sparred with Guard Qin directly, but we do know something of General Yun’s own skill. Given General Yun’s ability, single-handedly holding off Constable Wang and over a dozen constables shouldn’t be difficult for her. If Guard Qin is capable enough to serve as General Yun’s protector, her skill, while perhaps not surpassing the general’s, should at least be comparable.”

Chai Ping made a faint sound of acknowledgment.

He looked at the calm, undisturbed pond before him, paused for a moment, then instructed, “Constable Wang, take your men and continue searching the alleys around the office for clues.”

“Yes.”

“Commander Cao, select a few soldiers skilled in swimming and have them search the water for evidence.”

Confused, Commander Cao asked respectfully, “May this official ask, Lord Chai, what evidence should we be searching for?”

“Look for the black clothing that thief shed,” Chai Ping said unhurriedly. “The thief didn’t vanish. She simply used a disguise.”

By now the sky had fully brightened. After finishing his examination of the evidence, Chai Ping returned to the office and had a cup of tea. As if in passing, he asked with a smile, “Oh, by the way, Lord Liu, what business did General Yun and Guard Qin go out to handle this morning?”

“I heard they went to the city gates to give instructions to the guards there regarding the bandit search.”

Chai Ping said, sounding surprised, “Then why haven’t they returned by now?”

Prefect Liu said, “Oh, General Yun mentioned she had some personal matters to attend to as well. She should be on her way to the Changhui Mountain area by now.”

Chai Ping, of course, knew exactly why Yun Xi was headed to Changhui Mountain. He paused thoughtfully, then, as if suddenly recalling something, said with a smile, “My memory really is slipping. Today is the Awakening of Insects—Lord Liu should be heading to Changhui Mountain to lead the common folk in the mountain god ceremony. Such an important matter, and I very nearly made you delay it. That’s entirely my fault.”

Prefect Liu said hastily, “Not at all, not at all. The ceremony isn’t fixed to any exact hour—once Commander Cao finishes gathering evidence, I can head over then, and it won’t be too late.”

“No need to wait for him,” Chai Ping said. “Whether Commander Cao finds any evidence at all remains to be seen. We shouldn’t let an uncertain lead delay such an important matter for you, Lord Liu.”

With that, he stood, smiling. “As it happens, I’ve never witnessed a mountain god ceremony myself. Allow me to accompany you, Lord Liu—it would broaden my horizons as well.”

———*—

These past few days, Feng Tun’s silk shop had taken on an order from Jinling, needing to send a hundred bolts of cloud brocade there.

Feng Tun had been buried in work at the shop all day, utterly swamped, and only managed to sort out all the necessary arrangements the day before the Awakening of Insects.

Seeing how busy he was, Cheng Chang hadn’t wanted to bother him. But given his background in financial risk management, whenever he happened to see Feng Tun puzzling over the account books, a casual pointer or two from him could clear things up considerably for Feng Tun.

On the day of the Awakening of Insects, Cheng Chang, being a guest, didn’t want to keep his host waiting, so he rose earlier than usual.

After washing up and getting dressed, he opened the door and froze.

Feng Tun and Feng Guo were already waiting respectfully outside.

Behind them stood two rows of maidservants, each holding a tray, every tray piled with white garments.

Feng Tun said reverently, “Bodhisattva, sir, since you’re going out today, this humble one has specially prepared some mortal garments for you to choose from.”

Cheng Chang: “…”

He glanced over them—the fabrics were all exquisite, cloud brocade, shimmering brocade, gossamer silk, even dragon-scale gauze—an extensive variety of styles, but with one common trait—

“Why are they all white?”

“Oh, because this humble one heard that celestial immortals typically wear plain white robes—as the saying goes, immortal garments are like clouds, the height of simplicity is the greatest splendor, white robes fluttering in the wind,” Feng Tun explained, then asked anxiously, “Could it be you don’t prefer white? This humble one can have the seamstresses make new garments right away—I simply don’t know what Bodhisattva sir prefers to wear.”

Cheng Chang: “…No need. Anything will do.”

He’d meant to say he’d just wear what he already had on, but thinking of the effort Feng Tun had put into preparing all these white garments, he couldn’t bear to dampen his good intentions, and after a moment added, “Something unassuming will do.”

Feng Tun said “Yes,” and after carefully sorting through the pile of white garments, selected a plain white fragrant silk robe and presented it to Cheng Chang.

Cheng Chang took it and went to change in the inner room.

The plain white fragrant silk was pure and clean, set against the spring sunlight cascading over him—the whole of him seemed draped in a layer of frost, his mountain-and-river brows and eyes carrying a hint of chill, more striking even than the spring light itself.

Feng Tun nearly went blind from looking.

After a moment, he ventured cautiously, “This… seems a bit too striking. Perhaps, Bodhisattva sir, you should change into another?”

Cheng Chang nodded. “Fine.”

He took another outfit Feng Tun selected—plain shimmering brocade—went to change in the inner room, and emerged a moment later. “How about this one?”

The shimmering brocade seemed to shift like mist and water, and worn on Cheng Chang, the surrounding spring light dissolved into mist and cloud around him, set against his pale, cool gaze, as though the next moment he might step onto cloud stairs and ascend to the heavens.

Feng Tun nearly dropped to his knees to kowtow.

It took him a long while to recover his composure, and he said with difficulty, “This one… also seems a bit too eye-catching.”

He then selected another, the plainest garment among the white robes, and handed it to Cheng Chang.

Cheng Chang changed two more times in succession, each outfit more radiant than the last, yet not one of them anything but striking.

Nearly half an hour later, Cheng Chang emerged in the last set of cloud silk and asked, “Still not right?”

Feng Tun: “…”

Cheng Chang: “Should I change again?”

Feng Tun: “…”

At this point, Feng Guo said, “No more changing.”

With looks like this, Bodhisattva sir, nothing would help.

Feng Tun asked cautiously, “Bodhisattva sir, do you truly have no magical powers left at all?”

“Why do you ask?”

“It’s like this,” Feng Tun said, greatly troubled, “Bodhisattva sir, your bearing is so refined, your immortal countenance so exquisite, that no mortal garment could possibly conceal it. If Bodhisattva sir doesn’t wish to draw attention, the only way would be to form a hand seal yourself, to temporarily veil your appearance a little.”

Cheng Chang: “…”

Truly, Buddhism and Taoism had blurred into one—now they were even bringing up hand seals.

Cheng Chang: “I really have no magical powers left at all.”

Hearing this, Feng Tun was at a complete loss. He turned and looked to Feng Guo instead.

Feng Guo thought it over and said, “Bodhisattva sir, your immortal bearing is a minor concern for now. Today being the Flower Dawn Festival, the Changhui Mountain area will surely be packed with crowds. Once you step out of the carriage and blend into the throng, most people probably won’t pay too much attention to your immortal bearing—the main problem is this face…”

“This humble one understands!” A flash of inspiration struck Feng Tun, and he pounded one fist into his palm. “Bodhisattva just needs to cover his face, that’s all.”

He thought further, then added, “Only women wear veiled hats, but Bodhisattva sir could carry an umbrella instead.”

With that, he instructed a servant to fetch an umbrella.

Cheng Chang had never imagined that simply changing clothes this morning would take up nearly a full hour. Changhui Mountain wasn’t especially close to begin with, and if they delayed any further, he might not make it in time to see the Yangzhou prefect and the imperial envoy from the capital today.

Cheng Chang took the umbrella, opened it, and said, “Let’s go.”

He then headed toward the courtyard gate.

Half the umbrella’s surface was left blank, the other half painted with splashed-ink landscapes. Beneath it, the young master in white walked unhurried along the stone path—already a striking sight in itself.

Feng Tun: “…”

Feng Guo: “…”

Reaching the courtyard gate, Cheng Chang turned back and, seeing they hadn’t followed yet, asked, “Aren’t you coming?”

Well, so be it, then.

There was nothing else to be done.

Feng Tun and Feng Guo said, “…Let’s go.”