The group had just reached the gate of the residence when a servant came rushing over to report, “Master, last night the prefectural office issued an order that merchants transporting goods out of the city today may only travel by waterway. Right now, the queue at Dongguan Ferry is already very long—it’ll likely take about two hours before boarding is possible.”

Feng Tun asked, “Why is that?”

“Not sure, sir. Seems something was stolen from the government office, and they’re conducting strict checks on anyone leaving the city,” the servant said. “Traveling by water will take much longer. Should we send this shipment of silk to Jinling today as planned, or wait until tomorrow?”

Feng Tun thought it over and said, “Let’s send it today. Who knows if the restrictions will even be lifted by tomorrow.”

The servant acknowledged and headed off toward the shop.

A hired hand at the gate brought over a carriage. Cheng Chang asked, “Is someone from the shop headed to Jinling today?”

Feng Tun said, “Reporting to you, Bodhisattva sir, yes. It’s actually that deal you gave this humble one advice on before—it’s gone through now, and Jinling is eager for the goods.”

Cheng Chang made a small sound of acknowledgment.

Had he known someone from the silk shop was heading to Jinling, he could have simply gone along with the shipment. But since Feng Tun and Feng Guo had already gone to such trouble to bring him to see the mountain god ceremony, he decided not to bring it up now.

Changhui Mountain lay east of Yangzhou, quite close to Dongguan Ferry. The drive there from the Feng residence would take roughly half an hour.

By the time Cheng Chang’s group arrived at Changhui Mountain, it was already nearly the end of the hour of Chen. The spring scenery was at its finest; at the foot of the mountain and along the riverbank, the area was packed with people out for the mountain god ceremony and the Flower Dawn Festival.

Cheng Chang got out of the carriage, opened his umbrella, and walked up the mountain with Feng Tun and Feng Guo.

Changhui Mountain wasn’t actually very tall, and the site for the mountain god ceremony was at Wangchun Pavilion, halfway up the slope. Having been delayed that morning by all the changing of clothes, by the time Cheng Chang arrived at the pavilion, an official in fifth-rank robes was already leading the surrounding villagers in the ceremony.

Though called a mountain god ceremony, it wasn’t exactly that.

The people here actually worshipped the seasonal gods—just as the Autumn Festival honored Rushou, the god of autumn, the Awakening of Insects was actually dedicated to Goumang, the god of spring.

Watching the official in formal robes, Cheng Chang felt a flicker of familiarity but couldn’t quite place who it was.

Only after the man finished lighting incense and reciting the ceremonial verses, turning around to reveal a pair of bulging, fish-like eyes, did Cheng Chang suddenly remember.

Wasn’t this the very Prefect Liu who’d found him at the fishing village on the East Sea and escorted him all the way back to Jinling?

Back then, this prefect had tried to steal credit from Yun Xi and had been chased off by Cheng Chang, ending up kneeling beside Cheng Chang’s leg, weeping a river of tears and snot. Cheng Chang had assumed those bulging eyes were simply from crying too hard.

Thinking back on it now, aside from that unseemly business of trying to steal credit, this Prefect Liu had actually been quite conscientious during the journey escorting him back to the capital.

Cheng Chang hesitated, unsure whether he should greet Prefect Liu or not.

To return to Jinling now, all he needed was to travel with the Feng family’s cargo ship.

But the Feng family was, after all, an ordinary commoner household. If his whereabouts were exposed and Prince Ling’s men caught wind of it, not only would the Feng family be unable to protect him, they might well bring disaster upon themselves because of him.

It would be safer to have court soldiers escort him back to Jinling instead.

As Cheng Chang was thinking this through, about to step forward, he suddenly saw, from the other side of the crowd, a column of soldiers escorting a man in third-rank official robes approaching.

The man in third-rank robes had a kind, gentle face, and when he smiled, he seemed particularly approachable.

It was Chai Ping.

Cheng Chang froze.

His hand, gripping the umbrella handle, tightened abruptly, cold sweat suddenly beading in his palm.

But it wasn’t fear—it was hatred.

The towering inferno of the Imperial City Guard rose again before his eyes, flames swallowing sky and earth alike—it was this very man who had ordered his one path to survival locked shut.

Flames seemed to ignite once more within his own chest.

For a moment Cheng Chang struggled to steady himself, but he was a clear-headed man, and he knew confronting Chai Ping here would do him no good whatsoever.

Besides, the soldiers surrounding Chai Ping, all dressed in Patrol Bureau uniforms, were clearly his own men.

Cheng Chang silently took a step back, then another, and turned to head back down the mountain.

Sensing something amiss, Feng Tun hurried after him along with Feng Guo, asking, “Bodhisattva sir, aren’t you going to watch the mountain god ceremony anymore?”

Cheng Chang simply kept walking quickly ahead without a word, and only as they neared the foot of the mountain did he ask, “Is Dongguan Ferry nearby? I’d like to travel to Jinling by boat.”

“It is nearby,” Feng Tun said, hesitant. “It’s just that our shop’s boat to Jinling is a cargo vessel, not very comfortable. If Bodhisattva sir wishes to go to Jinling, this humble one could arrange another—”

“No need to arrange anything,” Cheng Chang cut in. “Just make it fast.”

Not far from Changhui Mountain lay the Huai River embankment. As noon approached, many women were already gathered along the embankment hanging paper flowers and releasing floating lanterns. Following the embankment for about three li would bring one to Dongguan Ferry. Cheng Chang walked briskly the whole way, and rounding a corner at such a fast pace, he collided head-on with an old woman in a brown padded jacket.

The old woman stumbled back several steps, nearly falling. Cheng Chang quickly reached out to steady her, saying, “My apologies.”

The old woman let out an “oh,” about to say “it’s fine,” when she looked up and saw the young master beneath the umbrella—dressed in flowing white, his features as though painted in ink, gentle yet extraordinarily sharp all at once.

She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, the young master had already raised his umbrella again and hurried on toward the ferry landing.

By now it was nearly noon, and Dongguan Ferry was bustling with activity. Fortunately, Feng Tun had sent a servant ahead early to hold a place in line, and the Feng family’s cargo ship had already finished loading and was preparing to depart.

The servant waiting at the ferry landing, seeing the three of them approach, blinked in surprise and asked, “Master, why are you here?”

Feng Tun, thinking that the Bodhisattva’s urgent trip to Jinling must involve some matter of saving the world and helping mankind, not something to be casually explained to outsiders, said, “This is our very first deal with the Jinling side, after all. I couldn’t rest easy, so I came along to see it through myself.”

The servant quickly acknowledged and set up a plank between the landing and the ship’s bow, leading Feng Tun’s group aboard.

A gust of wind picked up, and the ship swayed gently. Feng Guo stepped onto the deck and, seeming a bit reluctant to leave, glanced back toward Changhui Mountain. “Why did that particular envoy have to come today, of all days?”

Feng Tun replied, “Right, I’m puzzled about that too.”

Feng Guo sighed. “And why wasn’t that beautiful lady general there today? I was hoping to catch another glimpse of her while we were at Changhui Mountain.”

Cheng Chang, the last to board, froze the moment he heard this.

He stood there on the plank between the ferry landing and the ship’s bow. “What did you say?”

After a moment, he asked again, “Lady general?”

Feng Tun said, “Reporting to you, Bodhisattva sir, it’s the General of Illustrious Might who came from Jinling.”

Cheng Chang fell silent.

Right—how had he not thought of it?

Emperor Zhaoyuan had always intended to hand military power to Yun Xi. She’d suppressed the unrest in Lingnan and earned great merit—she should have been promoted long ago, well beyond her former rank of fifth-rank General of Pacification.

The wind stirred Cheng Chang’s robes, and the wooden boat swayed gently in response.

Seeing Cheng Chang standing motionless on the plank, Feng Tun couldn’t help but ask, “Bodhisattva sir, aren’t you boarding?”

Cheng Chang had always been clear-headed, always rational.

He knew that even if he stayed, he might not be the first to find Yun Xi—he could very well be discovered by Chai Ping’s men first.

He knew he should leave immediately.

But knowing she was here, so close to him, he suddenly found himself unable to think of anything else at all.

He turned resolutely and, cutting against the bustling crowd at the ferry landing, headed back the way he’d come.

———*—

Yun Xi had finished giving instructions at the city gate, and by the time she made it to Changhui Mountain, it was nearly noon.

Carrying her bamboo painting tube on her back, she walked along the river, asking passersby along the way if they’d seen the third young master.

A’Jiu, a blade of grass tucked in her mouth, walked beside her, helping ask around here and there out of boredom.

But the third young master had been missing for a full year now, and Yangzhou was a hundred li from Jinling—how could anyone here possibly have seen him?

Everyone who looked at the painting said they didn’t recognize the young man depicted.

Yun Xi was about to head up the mountain to ask further when she suddenly heard the neighing of horses nearby. Turning around, she saw several Patrol Bureau soldiers riding swiftly down from the mountain, led by none other than Commander Cao, whom she’d seen that morning.

Yun Xi didn’t think much of it—she knew Chai Ping was up on Changhui Mountain, and it was only natural that Commander Cao, being his man, would come looking for him there.

A’Jiu hadn’t paid much attention either, but as she glanced away, her eyes happened to catch on the cloth sack Commander Cao was carrying. A gap in the sack revealed a corner of black fabric.

A’Jiu blinked, then looked more closely—the fabric was still damp, clearly having just been pulled from the water not long ago.

It was the very black clothing she’d wrapped around a stone and sunk to the bottom of the pond the day she stole the blood letter!

A’Jiu instantly went on high alert. Looking around, she saw Patrol Bureau soldiers stationed everywhere—at the foot of the mountain, along the riverbank. A rough count put their numbers at over two hundred, not even counting the constables Prefect Liu had brought from the office.

Chai Ping must have suspected her from the very start, and brought all these men to set an inescapable trap.

No matter how skilled she was, facing so many men at once, she’d stand no chance at all.

A’Jiu realized a fierce fight was surely coming. With no time to think further, she spat out the grass blade from her mouth and called out, “A’Ting!”

She had indeed stolen the blood letter. That much was true.

And besides… they’d already agreed—this matter must never implicate A’Ting.

“A’Ting, I’m a little tired, I want to go rest for a bit!”

Yun Xi glanced at her and nodded. “All right, go rest by the embankment. I’ll come find you as soon as I can.”

A’Jiu nodded. “Got it.” She turned and walked off.

Seeing her leave so readily, Yun Xi didn’t think much of it. Noticing an old woman resting by a stone pillar at the foot of the mountain, she walked over, unrolled the painting, and asked, “Auntie, might you have seen the man in this painting?”

The old woman looked at it, startled, and said, “Miss, this painting—that’s a Bodhisattva, isn’t it? Someone who looks like that, how could anyone around here have seen him?”

Yun Xi nodded. “Thank you.” She was about to roll the painting back up when a woman in a brown padded jacket nearby, having overheard the word “Bodhisattva,” came over. “Miss, could I take a look at your painting?”

Yun Xi nodded and unrolled the painting again.

The young man in the painting was strikingly handsome, utterly unlike anyone of this mortal world.

“This person… I just saw this person.”

Yun Xi froze.

She could scarcely believe it. “You saw him?”

“Yes, I saw him.” The woman looked at the painting, and the longer she looked, the more certain she seemed.

Yun Xi’s mind went completely blank for a moment. She’d searched for so long, had nearly given up hope.

She asked, dazed, “You really saw him?” Then, “Where did you see him?”

“Right by the riverbank.”

Yun Xi stood stunned for a moment, and the instant it registered, she immediately broke into a run toward the embankment.

The woman in the brown jacket hurried after her a few steps, calling out, “Hey, miss, come back!”

Catching her breath, she said, “I recognized the two people with that young master just now—they’re Shopkeeper Feng of the silk shop in Yangzhou and his young son. Their group seemed to be heading toward… oh, they seemed to be heading to Dongguan Ferry.”

Hearing this, Yun Xi said, “Thank you!” and turned to sprint toward the ferry landing.

Cheng Chang, searching along the riverside, moved at a rapid pace. Seeing constables stationed along the embankment, he approached without a thought for whether he might expose himself, and asked, “Have you seen the General of Illustrious Might?”

The constable stared at him, dumbfounded for a long moment, then shook his head. “Haven’t seen her.”

Cheng Chang immediately continued his search toward the foot of the mountain.

Yun Xi rushed to the ferry landing and found a boatman by the water, asking urgently, “Boatman, which one is the Feng family’s ship, please?”

The boatman pointed to a cargo vessel not far off. “That one.”

Yun Xi nodded. “Thank you!”

Cheng Chang arrived at the foot of the mountain and asked two constables stationed there, “Did you see the General of Illustrious Might this morning?”

The two constables exchanged glances, both saying, “No, we didn’t.”

Cheng Chang was about to head up the mountain to search when a man who looked like a constable captain approached from behind him, cupping his hands. “Are you looking for the General of Illustrious Might, sir?”

Yun Xi chased after the Feng family’s departing ship along the embankment, calling out loudly, “Third Young Master!”

Feng Guo, already on deck, spotted her, but hearing her call “Third Young Master,” found it utterly baffling.

Gritting her teeth, and seeing the boat hadn’t gone too far yet, Yun Xi took a few quick steps up onto a nearby stone bridge, leapt down from the bridge, used a nearby covered boat for leverage, and vaulted onto the cargo ship, asking Feng Guo, “Where’s the third young master?”

Cheng Chang asked the constable captain, “You’ve seen her? Where is she?”

“She seemed to be urgently searching for someone. When I came by, I saw her heading toward the ferry landing, chasing after the Feng family’s ship.”

Feng Guo said, “General, are you looking for Bodhisattva sir?”

“I don’t know. Bodhisattva sir just heard that the General of Illustrious Might had arrived in Yangzhou, and hurried off the boat in a rush.”

Cheng Chang searched along the river, running toward where the boat had gone.

“Off the boat?” Yun Xi was stunned, and immediately leapt up onto the ship’s railing, poised to jump.

Feng Guo hurriedly grabbed hold of her. “Miss, careful! The water’s deep here.”

Cheng Chang, seeing the ship already far off, froze for a moment, about to give chase, when Feng Tun beside him grabbed hold of him urgently. “Bodhisattva sir, you mustn’t, you mustn’t! Beyond this point is the river itself, and the water here is very deep. In your current mortal form, falling in could make you gravely ill.”

Cheng Chang stopped short, gazing into the distance.

He watched, lost, as the ship drifted further away.

He felt that with every inch the boat receded, his heart grew a degree colder.

Just then, the boat on the river slowly began to turn around.

Standing at the bow was a slender young woman, her pale blue-green dress shimmering brilliantly in the spring light. Though he couldn’t make out her face clearly, he recognized at once the radiant brightness of her eyes and brows.

Yun Xi had spotted Cheng Chang too.

The young master by the riverbank stood in pale white robes, his dark hair like silk, loosely tied with a ribbon, standing beneath a tall cherry tree, gazing at her.

Above him, the cherry blossoms bloomed in full, riotous splendor.

She opened her mouth, wanting to call out to him, but didn’t dare make a sound, feeling as though this were all a dream.

Feng Guo had already instructed the boatman to dock, but the ship was still several zhang from shore, and she couldn’t wait any longer.

She wanted to seize this dream, hold it in her hands, and never let it go again.

Glancing around, she suddenly spotted an open trunk filled with brocade fabric. She grabbed a bolt without hesitation and said to Feng Guo, “Let me borrow this!”

She tore the brocade open, and in an instant a length of woven silk unfurled like flowing water.

Gripping one end, Yun Xi flung it toward the cherry tree on the shore. The brocade wound several times around the tree’s branches; she gave it a firm tug to check it had caught fast, then handed the other end to Feng Guo, instructing him, “Hold it tight!”

Then, using the ship’s railing for a moment’s leverage, she leapt onto the length of shimmering brocade.

Sounds of commotion rose up around them, as though officers were pursuing bandits somewhere nearby—or perhaps it was Chai Ping’s men searching for him.

Cheng Chang clearly heard it, but paid it no mind at all.

He gazed out toward the middle of the river.

His lady, in her flowing blue-green robes, her figure as light and graceful as a bird taking flight, stepped along the rippling shimmer of brocade as though crossing over rivers and mountains, traversing the whole mortal world, running toward him.

There were other boats on the river as well, needing to turn outward first before docking. The shimmering brocade, stretched to its absolute limit, finally proved too short and slipped free from Feng Guo’s grasp.

The shore was already right before her eyes. Just as Yun Xi was about to leap down, the ground beneath her feet suddenly vanished.

Her body pitched off balance in an instant; she barely managed to steady herself before falling, and threw herself instead toward the man waiting beneath the tree.