Under the pull of the shimmering brocade, the cherry branches bent downward, soft petals scattering in a flurry.

Yun Xi fell into Cheng Chang’s arms and looked up at him.

He looked just as he had before—beneath his long lashes lay the light of lakes and mountains, his deep eyes clear yet cool.

Yun Xi opened her mouth, her voice hoarse. “I thought…”

She’d thought she would never see him again.

Cheng Chang gazed back at her too. After a moment, he smiled. “We’ve only just met again, and already you’re throwing yourself into my arms?”

At this, Yun Xi froze, suddenly realizing that making such a scene in full public view wasn’t exactly proper. She instantly stepped back half a pace, explaining, “I wasn’t… I just, I just thought…”

She found herself rambling incoherently, an entire year of longing and heartache rising to her throat with no way to put it all into words. After a long moment, even she didn’t know what she meant to say anymore. “I went to so many places, asked so many people, and they all said they’d never seen the third young master, but I didn’t believe them, I…”

“I know,” Cheng Chang said.

“The third young master knew?”

Cheng Chang made a small sound of acknowledgment.

He looked at her, then suddenly reached out and pulled her by the waist, drawing her back into his arms. “Because I missed you too.”

A cool, crisp scent washed over her, and Yun Xi’s body went rigid.

She knew this wasn’t proper, knew that many eyes were on them right now, but having found him again after believing him lost, she found it impossible to restrain herself. His chest was warm, his collar cool against her skin, and she couldn’t help but reach up and rest her hand against his back as well.

Just then, sounds of fighting suddenly erupted in the distance, and someone shouted, “Over there!”

Yun Xi and Cheng Chang both startled and turned toward the commotion, to see Constable Wang of Yangzhou pushing through the crowd, hurrying toward the two of them.

Reaching them, Constable Wang said, “General Yun, Lord Chai has just ordered the Patrol Bureau soldiers to pursue and capture Guard Qin. Lord Liu asked me to bring you word.”

“A’Jiu?” Yun Xi was taken aback.

“Yes. This morning Lord Chai investigated the theft of the blood letter and found evidence suggesting Guard Qin was responsible. Lord Liu has already sent people to notify Officer Tian and the young prince as well. Officer Tian is in the eastern part of the city, so he should arrive shortly. The young prince is farther away—even riding a fast horse, it’ll take about half an hour. Lord Liu, worried this might escalate into a serious incident, sent me ahead first to inform you, General, and asks that you hurry over to take a look.”

Hearing this, Yun Xi understood at once.

No wonder A’Jiu had suddenly claimed to be tired and wanted to rest—she must have realized her theft of the blood letter had been discovered, and deliberately kept her distance to avoid implicating Yun Xi.

But Officer Li’s hanging case was closely tied to the theft of the Ministry of War’s defense map, and now that A’Jiu had stolen the blood letter Officer Li left behind before his death, there was a real risk Chai Ping might suspect her of involvement in the palace theft as well.

Yun Xi said urgently, “Third Young Master, something’s happened to A’Jiu. I need to go see.”

Hearing the constable mention the blood letter, Cheng Chang had already guessed what was going on.

Earlier, at the Feng residence, he’d heard Feng Tun mention that after the theft at the Ministry of War’s storeroom, Officer Li had resigned in disgrace over the matter, left behind a blood letter, and then hanged himself in the woodshed at his home.

Given this, Chai Ping’s massive show of force wasn’t because he’d discovered Cheng Chang’s whereabouts—it was because he was ordering the capture of A’Jiu, who had stolen the blood letter.

That made sense—he had, after all, “returned from the dead.” How could an ordinary person possibly have guessed he was still alive in this world?

The Feng family’s ship had already docked. Feng Tun and Feng Guo, leading a group of servants, came over, glancing between Yun Xi and Cheng Chang. Fearful of revealing the secret, they didn’t dare call out “Bodhisattva sir,” and instead simply addressed him as, “Young master.”

Cheng Chang asked Yun Xi, “How many men do you have with you?”

Yun Xi said, “I came to Yangzhou in a hurry, so I only brought Tian Si with me. But these past two days, the young prince’s Imperial Guard Bureau has brought along quite a few men. When he and Tian Si arrive shortly, they’ll likely bring guards from the Imperial Guard Bureau with them.”

Cheng Chang made a small sound of acknowledgment.

Chai Ping was a man of gentle appearance but ruthless heart, and right now the mountain was crawling with his Patrol Bureau men. If he saw Cheng Chang, there was no telling whether he’d try to eliminate him on the spot.

With so few men on hand right now, if he revealed himself immediately, it wouldn’t help Yun Xi at all—it might even implicate her.

Better to wait here for the moment. The ferry landing was crowded with people coming and going, with government constables stationed about as well—even if Chai Ping’s men spotted him here, they likely wouldn’t dare make a move.

With no time to explain further, Cheng Chang simply said to Yun Xi, “If A’Jiu falls into Chai Ping’s hands, it likely won’t end well for her. Go stall for time—I’ll wait here for Tian Si and follow shortly after.”

Yun Xi nodded, borrowed a horse at the ferry landing, and rode swiftly up the mountain.

Changhui Mountain, bustling with visitors just moments before, had by now been completely cleared out.

A’Jiu was being held on her knees outside Wangyue Pavilion, surrounded by four Patrol Bureau soldiers. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, her right arm, and her lower back—wounds from the earlier struggle.

But did these men think they could pry any information out of her? Not a chance.

Prefect Liu stood beside Chai Ping, not daring to make a sound.

In truth, when Chai Ping had ordered men to search the pond that morning, Prefect Liu had already suspected he was onto A’Jiu. But he’d assumed that, since A’Jiu was one of Yun Xi’s people, even if Chai Ping suspected her, he’d wait until returning to Jinling and reporting to Prince Ling before ordering her capture. He hadn’t expected this Lord Chai, despite his gentle appearance, to act with such ruthless efficiency, ordering A’Jiu captured alive without a word of warning.

Seeing the situation turning dire, Prefect Liu hastily sent men to inform Yun Xi and Cheng Ye.

A General of Illustrious Might and a Vice Censor-in-Chief—he couldn’t afford to offend either one.

He could only hope these two parties, if they meant to clash, wouldn’t do so on his own turf—otherwise, if blame came down from above, losing his official cap would be the least of his worries.

Watching A’Jiu grit her teeth in stubborn defiance, Chai Ping said nothing for the moment.

He’d dealt with plenty of people like her before. Nothing else to it—just sheer stubbornness. Trying to force information out of her through interrogation wouldn’t work; the only way was to first find her weakness.

So Chai Ping simply gave a curt order. “Prepare the carriage. Escort her back to the capital.”

“Yes.” Commander Cao acknowledged, and had A’Jiu bound tightly, hands and feet, then shoved her forward down the mountain.

Halfway down, Yun Xi came hurrying up, raising a hand to block everyone’s path, demanding coldly, “Would Lord Chai care to explain why you’re moving against my subordinate?”

Chai Ping said nothing. Commander Cao cupped his hands toward Yun Xi. “General, you may not know this—this morning, Lord Chai, investigating the theft of the blood letter, found evidence in the pond outside the office. It was the very black clothing the thief wore that day.”

“A single garment—that’s the basis for arresting my guard?”

Chai Ping said, “A piece of black clothing alone proves nothing. But this particular garment has a knife wound on the right cuff—precisely the wound Constable Wang inflicted while pursuing the thief on the day the blood letter was stolen. This official just discovered an identical wound on Guard Qin’s right wrist, and intends to bring her back to Jinling for questioning. Does the general have any objection to that?”

Yun Xi said, “A’Jiu is a military woman—it’s perfectly normal for her to have wounds on her body. How can Lord Chai prove that the wound on A’Jiu’s wrist was inflicted the day the blood letter was stolen? Didn’t your own men, in their reckless pursuit just now, inflict plenty of fresh wounds on her as well? If Lord Chai wishes to suspect A’Jiu, this general has no objection—but any suspicion should at least be grounded in solid evidence. Perhaps Lord Chai should first send for a physician to properly examine her wounds before proceeding.”

Chai Ping, recognizing that Yun Xi’s aim was simply to stall him, smiled faintly, sidestepped her, and continued heading down the mountain.

Yun Xi blocked his path again, staring him down. “Furthermore, the blood letter Officer Li left before his death was stolen from the Yangzhou prefectural office. If anyone should handle this matter, it should be the Yangzhou prefecture, or failing that, the Ministry of Justice or the Court of Judicial Review. Lord Chai, you’re here under Prince Ling’s orders to assist, not under imperial decree—since when does the Censorate have the authority to command the Patrol Bureau to arrest people?”

Hearing this, a flicker of coldness passed through Chai Ping’s eyes, but his tone remained gentle as he replied, “The General may not be aware, but before I left Jinling, His Majesty had already ordered the Three Judicial Offices to take over the case of the theft at the Sui Palace. Though I came here under Prince Ling’s instruction, as a member of the Censorate, it’s hardly improper for me to look into this matter as well. And as far as this official understands, Guard Qin requested leave from the general seven or eight days ago and has been unaccounted for ever since. Wasn’t seven or eight days ago exactly when the Ministry of War’s defense map went missing?”

“Truthfully, this official doesn’t believe Guard Qin stole the blood letter either, but the coincidence is simply too striking. I have no choice but to bring her back to Jinling for questioning. As for General Yun—shielding her again and again like this, one has to wonder whether it’s not a case of the thief crying ‘stop thief,’ and whether the general herself might be connected to the theft of the Ministry of War’s defense map as well?”

“Chai Ping!” At this, A’Jiu shouted sharply. “Arrest me if you want, question me if you want—I’ve already said the blood letter and the Ministry of War’s defense map have nothing to do with me! Frame me all you like, but don’t you dare try to drag the general into this!”

Down the mountain, the prisoner cart was already prepared.

Chai Ping, uninterested in dealing with either of them further, said coldly, “Take her away!” and clasped his hands behind his back, continuing down the mountain.

Remembering what Cheng Chang had said earlier—that if A’Jiu fell into Chai Ping’s hands, it likely wouldn’t end well for her—Yun Xi, finding herself with no other option, gritted her teeth, drew the sword from her waist, and leapt forward, forcing back the two soldiers escorting A’Jiu.

But Commander Cao had already anticipated this. Seeing what was happening, he swiftly pulled A’Jiu out of harm’s way, and at the same time glanced around, ordering several Patrol Bureau soldiers to block Yun Xi.

The clash of blades erupted at once. Watching this unfold, Prefect Liu closed his eyes, his heart sinking, thinking to himself: it’s over.

Chai Ping narrowed his eyes slightly. Though he didn’t know exactly what Yun Xi was stalling for, he knew this couldn’t continue.

He straightened his sleeve, drew a dagger from his sleeve pocket, and pressed it against A’Jiu’s neck, calling out flatly, “General Yun.”

The blade gleamed like water, already resting against A’Jiu’s throat, a hair’s breadth from piercing skin.

Seeing this, Yun Xi immediately withdrew her attack, shouting angrily, “Chai Ping! A’Jiu is, after all, a court-commissioned guard with a proper title—what do you think you’re doing!”

“Nothing much,” Chai Ping said with a smile. “This official merely wishes to remind the general that if you keep interfering like this, blades have no eyes—it would be a shame if your guard got hurt.”

“Chai Ping.”

Just then, a cold voice rang out from down the mountain.

Chai Ping paused slightly, struck by how strangely familiar the voice sounded.

Cool, clear, forceful—yet for some reason, the moment he heard it, a chill shot down his spine.

He looked down the mountain path, where a figure was slowly walking toward him.

Dressed in flowing white, the man looked every bit like a banished immortal descended from the ninth heaven, yet the malevolent aura swirling around him transformed him instead into a wrathful spirit from the underworld.

The sky, which had been perfectly clear moments ago, suddenly stirred with wind, clouds rolling and tumbling on the horizon, the surroundings darkening by several shades.

Chai Ping froze, cold sweat pouring down his back, unable to believe who he was seeing.

Seizing the opportunity, Yun Xi lunged forward, knocking Chai Ping’s dagger aside with her sword, pulling A’Jiu free and retreating several steps with her. Unfortunately, Commander Cao, still alert, gritted his teeth and drew his own sword, pressing it once more to A’Jiu’s throat.

“Is Lord Chai planning to kill without regard for right or wrong?” Cheng Chang said, his voice icy.

The word “kill” struck Chai Ping’s ears like a physical blow, jolting him.

“Th-third young master?”

Cheng Chang stared at him, then suddenly smiled, saying flatly, “Well, this wouldn’t be the first time Lord Chai has done something like this, would it?”

His smile was cold and sharp-edged, a dense, eerie mist swirling in the depths of his eyes; his gentle features, forged anew in fire, now carried an added edge of frost and severity.

Chai Ping’s heart lurched violently. He had watched with his own eyes as Cheng Chang was locked inside a sea of flame.

How could he possibly be standing here now?

As though a vengeful ghost had returned to life, Chai Ping found himself utterly speechless with terror.

Chai Ping wasn’t the only one struck speechless—Prefect Liu beside him was equally stunned into silence.

He rubbed carefully at his bulging eyes, adjusted his jaw, which had nearly dropped to the ground in shock, and stepped forward, both startled and trying to compose himself, asking as though in a dream, “Third young master—no, Your Highness, how are you here?”

The third young master had been missing for a full year. The imperial guards had searched Jinling thoroughly, even extending their search to neighboring prefectures—how had he never once been found?

Before Cheng Chang could answer, Chai Ping was the first to snap back to his senses.

Right—the third young master had been missing so long that Prince Cong’s household had already held a funeral for him. Very few people knew he was still alive in this world. With Prince Ling now firmly holding power, poised to become crown prince any day, there could be no mistakes at this critical juncture. Cheng Chang was far too capable—if he were allowed to return alive to Jinling, it would surely stir up fresh turmoil at court. The only way to eliminate this threat permanently was to deal with him today, while the chance still remained.

At this thought, a flash of ruthlessness crossed Chai Ping’s eyes, and he was just about to order his Patrol Bureau men into action when a constable suddenly hurried up from below the mountain to report, “Your Highness, Lord Chai, General Yun, Lord Liu—the young prince has heard something happened here at Changhui Mountain and has come up the mountain with his men from the Imperial Guard Bureau!”

At once, a column of guards clad in chainmail armor strode into view. Cheng Ye, reaching the front, was the first to bow deeply to Cheng Chang. “Your Highness.”

When he’d first arrived at the foot of the mountain, he’d heard that Prince Cong’s heir apparent had appeared on the mountain. Though shocked, on reflection he found it not entirely surprising.

Yun Xi had been searching for the third young master for so long—heaven rewards those who persevere, after all. Hadn’t the same thing happened before, at the East Sea?

Cheng Ye sighed inwardly and asked, “Your Highness, how did you come to be in Yangzhou?”

“This prince was harmed by treacherous men before, and fled here to Yangzhou to escape danger.” Cheng Chang’s gaze shifted to Chai Ping, and he said flatly, “As for what Lord Chai just said about Guard Qin requesting leave from General Yun and disappearing for seven or eight days, suspected of stealing the defense map from the Sui Palace—I’ll tell you plainly, Lord Chai. During those seven or eight days, General Yun had in fact sent Guard Qin to Yangzhou to protect this prince.”

His tone suddenly turned icy. “Release her at once!”

That single, cold, resonant command sent a chill through everyone present. The Patrol Bureau soldiers looked from Chai Ping to Cheng Chang and back again, and finally, with no other choice, threw down their weapons.