Cheng Chang did a quick headcount and noticed one was missing. “Where’s Skinny Li?”

Skinny Li was a nickname—the man was actually quite heavyset and easygoing, despite the name.

Zhang Dahu said, “Reporting to the young lord, he ran for a bit and said he was exhausted. His face had gone pale and he was breaking into a cold sweat—didn’t look like he was faking it. We told him to walk back slowly on his own. He’s probably only halfway here by now.”

Cheng Chang nodded. Remembering that Yun Xi was still waiting to question his attendants, he picked out the two more reliable ones and told her, “Constable Yun, ask these two whatever you need to know.”

Yun Xi thanked him and, weighing her words, was about to speak when someone came dashing down the far end of the alley.

It was Tian Si, a constable under her own command.

Tian Si arrived drenched in sweat, and upon seeing Yun Xi, bent over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. “Con-Constable Yun, hurry back—hurry back to the Marquis’s residence. Uncle Bai—Uncle Bai—something’s happened!”

Uncle Bai was the steward of the House of Zhongyong.

Alarmed, Yun Xi asked, “What happened to Uncle Bai?”

Tian Si stuttered even under normal circumstances, and seeing Yun Xi’s urgency only made him more flustered, his words tumbling out in confusion. It took Yun Xi a good while to piece together that Uncle Bai had noticed the ancestral shrine’s roof leaking and had climbed up himself to patch it, only to fall.

Uncle Bai already had a bad leg, and this fall had left him unable to get up at all. When Fang Fulan learned of it, she’d urgently sent someone to fetch a physician from the clinic, but Uncle Bai himself refused, insisting he was useless anyway—if anyone dared call a physician, he’d rather lose the leg entirely.

Fang Fulan, being soft-natured, had no way to persuade him and had sent Tian Si to find Yun Xi instead.

Yun Xi was deeply worried, afraid that any delay in treatment would leave the leg permanently crippled.

But she also knew Uncle Bai’s stubborn temperament all too well—if she simply sent a physician over without warning, he really might refuse treatment out of spite, leg be damned.

There was nothing for it but to go back to the residence and see for herself.

Yun Xi bowed to the guard stationed outside the Privy Council gates and asked, “Might I trouble you, sir—my household has an urgent matter. Could I possibly borrow a fast horse?”

The guard said, “Privy Council horses are never lent out. And even if one could be, I’m only a guard—it’s not my place to decide.”

He had been the one to guide Yun Xi in earlier, and seeing the sweat on her brow now from her evident distress, he offered a suggestion. “Weren’t you here to see General Pei today, Constable? Since you have urgent business, why not ask to borrow a fast horse from him instead? General Pei is an approachable man—surely he’d lend you one.”

Yun Xi fell silent for a moment at this, then folded her hands and replied, “My thanks.” She did not go back into the Privy Council, but turned instead toward the mouth of the alley.

Tian Si caught up a few steps behind her. “You’re—you’re not going to borrow a horse?”

“I’ll run back,” Yun Xi said.

Cheng Chang, not knowing the state of Yun Xi’s household, had only understood about half of what was going on before she went hurrying off.

He thought for a moment, then sent two trustworthy attendants to hitch up the carriage, and told Zhang Dahu to go after Yun Xi.

Yun Xi had trained in martial arts since childhood alongside her father and brother and ran remarkably fast. Zhang Dahu had to chase her through two full alleys before catching up. He held out a hand to stop her, not quite sure what to say, and after a long pause finally forced out, “Our young lord says you’re not to leave!”

Yun Xi demanded, “Why not?”

Zhang Dahu thought to himself, I have no idea either.

“No reason. Our young lord’s claimed this whole street today—if you want to leave, go around!” he said, jutting his chin out stubbornly.

Yun Xi, worried sick about Uncle Bai’s injury, had no patience left to think this through and found herself furious at Cheng Chang’s high-handedness. She gripped her sword, half-ready to fight Zhang Dahu outright.

But she also knew that if it came to blows, she likely wouldn’t make it home today at all.

Swallowing her anger, she turned to find another way around.

The moment she turned, a carriage came rattling up. It pulled to a stop beside her, and Cheng Chang lifted the curtain. “Get in.”

Yun Xi’s expression hadn’t fully cleared of anger, though confusion now mixed in as well.

Cheng Chang added, “Didn’t something urgent happen at your home? How far do you think you’ll get running there? I’ll take you.”

His tone was entirely matter-of-fact, as though this were simply the obvious thing to do, which somehow made it hard to refuse.

Yun Xi didn’t hesitate further. She braced against the carriage shaft and leapt up. Tian Si and the other two attendants crowded onto the driver’s seat up front, and with a snap of the whip, the carriage sped off toward the House of Zhongyong.

After the carriage had traveled for a while, Yun Xi’s emotions gradually settled, and she finally said, “My thanks, Third Young Master.”

Cheng Chang said, “It’s nothing. No trouble at all.”

She glanced at him again, suddenly remembering how she’d nearly come to blows with Zhang Dahu moments ago, mistaking his kindness for ill intent. Feeling a pang of guilt, she found herself explaining, “Uncle Bai is nominally a servant of the household, but he was once an old general under my father’s command. Ten years ago, he injured his leg saving my brother’s life, and that’s how he came to serve here. He has done our household a great kindness, and he watched me grow up—he’s like family to me. That’s why I… lost my composure just now.”

She added an apology. “As for the matter of the Third Young Master’s fall into the water, this humble servant dares not delay it further. Once I return home today and confirm Uncle Bai’s injury isn’t serious, I will pursue the investigation with all diligence and give the Third Young Master a proper account.”

Cheng Chang hadn’t quite understood why she felt the need to explain so much. Looking at her now, he saw that a few strands of her hair had come loose, her cheeks still flushed from running, sitting very upright, yet her eyes were lowered as though she didn’t dare look at him, her hands gripping the sword tightly.

So she was feeling guilty.

Guilty about what? About this detour delaying his case?

His “cause of death” was murky enough as it was, the real culprit well hidden—the case wasn’t going to be solved any faster or slower because of two or three hours.

It really came down to cultural differences, he supposed. Back in the twenty-first century, if he ran into an acquaintance while driving, he’d offer them a ride without a second thought.

And besides, Yun Xi had a genuine emergency at home.

Not quite sure what else to say, Cheng Chang simply told her, “Don’t worry about it.”

Yun Xi, still looking down, nodded silently.

Cheng Chang noticed her hands gripping the sword hilt even tighter and, realizing she was still anxious, lifted the curtain and called out to the driver, “Faster, if you can.”

They soon reached the residence. Yun Xi jumped down from the carriage, and this time remembering her manners, said to Cheng Chang, “Since you’ve come all this way, Third Young Master, perhaps you’d like to come in and rest a while.”

Remembering the two attendants who had driven the carriage as well, she added, “Please, both of you as well.”

In this era, propriety between men and women was strictly observed, and Cheng Chang had initially worried that simply entering the residence might damage Yun Xi’s reputation as an unmarried young woman. But on second thought, he realized this era seemed rather different in that regard—hadn’t that young lady from the Yao family, for instance, visited Pei Lan’s office without issue?

It seemed men and women could interact fairly normally here, without the strict avoidance he’d assumed.

Fine, then. He had nothing better to do anyway—might as well go in and see if there was anything he could help with.

Yun Xi, feeling she’d already put Cheng Chang to enough trouble, had no intention of asking for further help. She led him into the main hall, personally poured three cups of tea, left Tian Si to attend to him, and hurried off toward the back courtyard.

Cheng Chang looked around. The exterior of the residence had seemed decent enough, but inside, it was strikingly bare. The vast main courtyard didn’t have a single servant in sight, and aside from chairs, tables, and lamp stands, the main hall held not a single decorative item.

A scroll of calligraphy hung facing south, its brushwork bold and powerful, though clearly not the work of any famous master.

Setting aside the imperial palace and Prince Cong’s residence, over the past month or so accompanying Prince Cong on visits, Cheng Chang had seen plenty of households—all resplendent halls and richly furnished rooms. How had the House of Zhongyong, a proper third-rank marquisate, fallen into such a state of decline?

The tea had gone slightly cold. The attendant behind him lifted the lid, took a sip, and before he could even swallow, spat it right back out. “What is this awful taste!”

He rolled up his sleeve and rounded on Tian Si, who stood trembling nearby. “What’s the meaning of this? Serving our young lord tea like this?!”

Tian Si, realizing he’d offended the Third Young Master, tried to explain, but his stutter made it nearly impossible. After a long struggle he managed to force out, “I-I-I—no, this—this tea is—is already the b-best we—we—Yun, Yun—”

Cheng Chang took a sip as well. He wasn’t much of a tea connoisseur, but even he could tell the tea was stale, bitter with a hint of astringency.

He said nothing, simply waved off the attendant and finished the cup, setting it down on the side table. For some reason, he found himself recalling what Yun Xi had said earlier in Pei Lan’s office—that her entire family, the Yun clan, had given their lives in loyal service, and now all the men were gone. It left a strange, unpleasant feeling in his chest.

He wondered how a household that had produced so many heroes could have fallen to such ruin.

Just as he was mulling this over and about to ask, a cry of anguish came from the back courtyard—someone sobbing, and after a moment, an old, quavering voice said, “This useless old body of mine—might as well just die—”

Tian Si glanced up at Cheng Chang.

The young lord sat there, calm and composed, but at that last remark, his brow twitched faintly.

Fearing this unpleasant commotion might upset the young lord, Tian Si was about to offer an apology when Cheng Chang stood up. “I’ll go take a look.”