Their lips were a hair’s breadth apart—her freshness, his warmth, already beginning to mingle.

Cheng Chang paused slightly, at first intending to ignore it.

Just as he was about to lean in further, Prefect Liu knocked again. “Third Young Master? Are you in there?”

Cheng Chang opened his eyes and looked at Yun Xi. After a long moment, he drew back slightly without a trace of visible reaction, lifted the thin quilt off her shoulders, helped her pull her garment closed properly, then walked to the door and opened it.

Prefect Liu was waiting right outside. The moment the door opened, he was about to step forward when, for some reason, he suddenly felt a bitterly cold aura wash over him.

Looking up, he saw Cheng Chang’s face—beautiful as a heavenly being’s—now sharp with a menacing edge. Cheng Chang stared at him coldly for a long moment before finally uttering a single word: “Speak.”

Prefect Liu instinctively flinched, utterly bewildered. What was this? Had he offended the Third Young Master again somehow?

He said, “Ah, it’s like this. The Feng father and son from the silk shop heard Your Highness would be returning to the capital first thing tomorrow morning, so they packed up a few bundles of your belongings and delivered them before nightfall. The two of them are currently waiting in the outer hall—should this official bring them in to see you?”

“A few bundles of belongings?” Cheng Chang was momentarily puzzled.

What belongings did he have at the Feng household?

Then it came to him—probably those white robes that Feng Tun and Feng Guo had had a seamstress make for him.

Cheng Chang nodded. “Bring them in.”

On the way back to the office, Yun Xi had heard Cheng Chang mention that the Fengs were witnesses to Registrar Li’s death by strangulation. Now, hearing they had arrived, she pulled the thin quilt around herself, covering the tear at her back, and followed Cheng Chang to the main courtyard.

Feng Tun and Feng Guo paid their respects to Cheng Chang and explained, “Your Highness sent word earlier telling us to come again tomorrow morning, but since Your Highness is returning to Jinling early tomorrow, this humble one and my son feared it might delay Your Highness’s journey, and so took the liberty of coming to see you before nightfall today. We hope Your Highness won’t hold it against us.”

Now that they knew Cheng Chang’s true identity, they weren’t the least bit surprised.

A bodhisattva reincarnated should, of course, have a suitably ordinary identity to go along with it.

Besides, however exalted a prince might be, could he possibly outrank a heavenly bodhisattva?

Cheng Chang said, “No matter. I only told you to come tomorrow morning because I thought you’d been running around all day already—it makes no real difference when we meet.”

Feng Tun and Feng Guo agreed at once, saying, “Your Highness is most considerate of us.”

As he spoke, Feng Tun stole another glance at Yun Xi.

Back at the eastern crossing riverside, he and his son had seen quite clearly just what sort of relationship existed between the bodhisattva and this lovely lady general.

Now that they were here, it wouldn’t do to bring clothes only for the bodhisattva and none for the general. And besides, looking at how beautiful this general was, who was to say she wasn’t a reincarnated goddess herself?

Feng Tun turned to Yun Xi and said, “In answer to the General, this humble one’s family runs a silk shop. Earlier, at Changhui Mountain, this humble one saw from a distance that the General had been in a fierce struggle with someone—your garments must surely need changing by now. This humble one has little else to offer, but clothing we have plenty of. When I came here, I also brought a change of garments for the General.”

He paused, worried Yun Xi might decline, and added, “Please don’t think lightly of it, General. If the clothes from this humble one’s shop could find favor with you, it would be a blessing for all of us.”

Hearing this, Yun Xi meant to say it wasn’t necessary, but before she could speak, Cheng Chang had already accepted on her behalf. “Then our thanks to Shopkeeper Feng.” He called out, “Prefect Liu.”

“This official is here.”

“Have someone go to the Feng residence and tally up the full account of my food, clothing, and daily needs over this past year, including General Yun’s garments. Take it to Prince Cong’s household treasury afterward and have them pay Shopkeeper Feng in full.”

Prefect Liu quickly assented.

Feng Tun and Feng Guo tried to decline, but Cheng Chang said, “You cared for me for an entire year—that alone is a debt of great kindness I owe you. As for the rest, I won’t take advantage of your generosity.”

The conversation then turned back to Registrar Li’s death.

Now that they knew Cheng Chang’s identity, Feng Tun and Feng Guo no longer held anything back in front of Yun Xi, and recounted the truth of Registrar Li’s death—that the man who’d killed him wasn’t the one who’d stolen the defense map, and that this man had, before Registrar Li died, kept urgently pressing him about the map’s whereabouts, as though desperately afraid it might be lost.

Hearing this, both Cheng Chang and Yun Xi grew suspicious.

Could there be some secret hidden within that defense map? Otherwise, why would Registrar Li’s killer be so anxious about its whereabouts?

Cheng Chang thought it over for a long moment, then instructed Prefect Liu, “Prepare ink and paper for Shopkeeper Feng to write out a formal statement.”

“Yes.”

Not long after, servants from the Feng residence delivered Yun Xi’s change of clothes as well.

It was a pale goose-yellow silk gown, layered with a light, gauzy overlay—simple in style, but far more finely made than anything Yun Xi had worn before. Most distinctive of all was a thin cord at the crossed collar, sewn with a single kerria rose blossom.

Since the back of her current garment was already torn, Yun Xi didn’t hesitate when the clothes arrived from the Feng household. She murmured a word of thanks and went straight to a side chamber to change.

She moved efficiently and changed quickly. Before long she returned, her slender figure wrapped in the pale yellow gown, the gauzy overlay drifting like mist or cloud, as delicate as a spring branch still beaded with morning dew.

And that single kerria blossom bloomed against the pale, snow-white skin at her throat, brilliant and striking.

Cheng Chang glanced over and froze for a moment.

By then, Feng Tun had also finished writing his statement and presented it, saying, “Your Highness, please take a look and see if there’s anything that needs correcting.”

Cheng Chang took the statement and looked it over.

But the lines of text drifted past his eyes without quite settling into his mind. He stared at it for a long while, and still couldn’t have said what it contained.

Cheng Chang paused, then couldn’t help lifting his head to look at Yun Xi again.

The stretch of pale skin behind the kerria blossom looked clear and translucent as frost.

Seeing Cheng Chang look somewhat distracted, Yun Xi couldn’t help but ask, “Is the Third Young Master feeling unwell?”

Her voice was clear and bright, lovely to hear.

Cheng Chang thought to himself that he must truly be losing his mind.

He was silent for a moment, then said, “No.”

He lowered his eyes and read through the statement in hand carefully once more, confirmed it was in order, and handed it to Prefect Liu beside him. “Have someone make two copies. Keep one, and send the other two to Jinling.”

Prefect Liu assented. “Yes.”

He was a man with a knack for maneuvering, keenly aware of who held office and who held power back in the capital.

Thinking of how Cheng Chang would return to Jinling first thing the next morning, he couldn’t help but recall the incident on the eastern coast the last time.

Last time, when the Third Young Master returned to the capital, the arrangements had already been quite grand; this time, essentially a return from the dead, surely the arrangements should be even grander. And so he asked, “Your Highness returns to the capital tomorrow—surely His Majesty, Prince Cong, and Prince Ling will all come to the city gates to welcome you. But here in Yangzhou, we only have a mere few dozen Yiwei Command guards for escort—rather a shabby showing. Does Your Highness think it wise to summon another two thousand troops from the nearby garrison? If Your Highness thinks it appropriate, this official will send word to the garrison at once, and while we’re at it, send a message ahead to Your Highness’s childhood friend in the capital.”

“My childhood friend?” Cheng Chang was momentarily puzzled. “Who?”

Prefect Liu said, “The former Ministry of Rites director’s fifth son—Zhou Cai Ying, of the Zhou Hongguang household.”

He added, “Your Highness may not know, but this fifth son of the Zhou family was promoted last year to Vice Minister of the Court of State Ceremonial, in charge of receiving guests.”

Cheng Chang froze. “Zhou Cai Ying is still alive?”

Prefect Liu didn’t quite catch his meaning.

What did that mean?

Shouldn’t he be alive? Was he supposed to be dead?

So he answered, “Alive, yes. Alive and well.”

It was hardly his fault for not understanding.

It had been Prince Ling, exploiting Cheng Chang’s “memory loss,” who had used Zhou Cai Ying to lure Cheng Chang to the Imperial City Bureau, where the fire had been set.

Cheng Chang, in truth, knew that Zhou Cai Ying probably hadn’t harbored any deliberate intent to harm him—he’d simply done as Chai Ping instructed.

But Zhou Cai Ying hadn’t known, at the time, what disaster luring Cheng Chang to the Imperial City Bureau would bring about. Once he later learned that Cheng Chang had “died in the flames,” he would surely have put it together.

Prince Ling and Chai Ping’s methods were both utterly ruthless. If Zhou Cai Ying had seen through their filthy dealings, why hadn’t they simply killed him to silence him?

The moment this thought occurred to him, Cheng Chang understood.

Because Zhou Cai Ying had once seen Cheng Xu—

“There was that time the Grand Empress Dowager took us to the temple, and Your Highness said you wanted to sneak off to hunt rabbits, and ran off too far, and got hurt. Luckily you ran into that boy, who not only stopped your bleeding but carried you back on his own. Later, when we went back to Mingyin Temple, Your Highness said you wanted to repay his kindness, and secretly took me and Little Sister Ling along to find that boy.”

“We were so young then, this humble one and Little Sister Ling only went with Your Highness to see that mother and son twice. Little Sister Ling has since forgotten all about it.”

That was it. He’d “lost his memory,” and Yu Ling had been far too young at the time. Zhou Cai Ying might well be the only person who remembered what Cheng Xu looked like.

And the last person Prince Ling would need to eliminate before ascending the throne was Cheng Xu.

Zhou Cai Ying couldn’t be killed just yet—Prince Ling still needed him to identify the boy.

Cheng Chang suddenly asked, “Have you already sent word to Jinling about my being in Yangzhou?”

Prefect Liu said, “In answer to Your Highness, this official didn’t dare delay a moment—the instant I returned to the office, I sent someone to deliver the message.”

That was bad.

Cheng Chang stood up abruptly.

Zhou Cai Ying was the most crucial witness to prove he’d been targeted for harm. If Zhou Cai Ying could be persuaded to testify, even if it didn’t bring down Prince Ling entirely, it would at least be enough to make Chai Ping pay in blood.

Now that Prince Ling knew he was alive, he would surely send men after Zhou Cai Ying to have him killed.

If he’d known this sooner, he should have had the news suppressed.

Cheng Chang asked, “Where’s Tian Si?”

“Commandant Tian is in the public hall with the Young Prince,” Prefect Liu said, then added at once, “This official will go fetch him right away.”

Feng Tun and Feng Guo, sensing Cheng Chang had urgent matters to attend to, tactfully withdrew.

Before long, Tian Si arrived. “Y-Your Highness.”

Cheng Chang nodded and instructed Prefect Liu, “Have three fast horses readied.” Then, to Tian Si, “Go to the Imperial City Bureau immediately and find Wei Jie. Have him take his men, under the pretext of hunting a Jinling thief on the loose, to patrol the area around the Zhou residence, and make absolutely certain the Zhou family’s safety is secured.”

“Yes.”

Cheng Chang then asked Yun Xi, “Do you know exactly where the Zhou residence is located?”

Yun Xi nodded. “I do.”

Before Cheng Chang had been attacked, he’d been together with Zhou Cai Ying, and when Yun Xi first returned from Lingnan the previous year, she’d gone straight to the Zhou residence to find him.

“Which city gate is closest to the Zhou residence?”

“The east gate.”

“Good.” Cheng Chang nodded. “Let’s go.”

Zhou Cai Ying wasn’t a fool—the moment he’d sensed the ambush in the passage between the Imperial City Bureau’s inner and outer offices, he’d fled at once. Now that news of Cheng Chang’s survival had reached Jinling, he’d surely know he was in grave danger, and would try to flee the city.

Yun Xi had no idea exactly what Cheng Chang meant to do, but she guessed he intended to protect this witness, Zhou Cai Ying, and asked no further questions, simply following him toward the office’s back gate.

Prefect Liu trailed alongside, offering a suggestion. “Your Highness, it seems rather dangerous for you and the General to return to the capital alone—wouldn’t it be better to inform the Young Prince and have him bring troops along?”

Cheng Chang paused briefly.

Cheng Ye was an upright man; for ordinary matters, asking him for help would have been fine.

But the enmity between himself and Prince Ling ran too deep, already reaching a point where only one of them could survive. The waters here were far too murky—others might well be unwilling to get dragged in.

Right now, the only people he could truly trust were Yun Xi and Tian Si.

So even though there was danger, he had to take the gamble. In any case, once Wei Jie learned of this, he’d surely bring men to the east gate of the capital to meet him.

Seeing Cheng Chang stay silent, Prefect Liu asked again, “Before Your Highness returns to Jinling, are there any other instructions?”

Cheng Chang glanced at him. “Keep your mouth shut. If anyone asks tomorrow morning, just say I’ve already returned to Jinling.”

“Yes.”

The fast horses at the office’s back gate were already prepared. Cheng Chang and Yun Xi mounted up, flicked their whips, and rode at full speed toward Jinling.

News of his presence in Yangzhou would surely reach Jinling by midnight at the latest, and given how decisive Prince Ling was, he’d likely already dispatched assassins to surround and trap Zhou Cai Ying.

Thinking of this, Cheng Chang couldn’t help blaming himself.

He’d been far too careless—he’d never imagined Zhou Cai Ying would still be alive, clinging to survival under Prince Ling’s thumb.

He should have asked more questions.

The night wind grew stronger as they rode swiftly on. By the time they reached the vicinity of a post station on Jinling’s eastern outskirts, a faint smell of blood suddenly drifted on the wind.

Cheng Chang and Yun Xi reined in their horses at the same moment, looking around by the light of the moon, and saw numerous bodies dressed in black lying scattered alongside the station road.

Suspicion flared in both their minds at once. Just as they were about to dismount for a closer look, a sudden crack sounded from behind the station house—as though something had been knocked loose.

Yun Xi, sharply alert, turned at once and walked toward the station house.

A figure emerged from behind the building. Seeing Yun Xi approach, he took a couple steps back, then spun around and fled as if for his life.

But no matter how fast he ran, how could he outrun someone as light and swift as Yun Xi?

In a few strides she leapt onto the roof of the station house, then dropped down in front of him, drawing the sword at her waist and pressing the hilt to his throat. “Who are you?”

The man was terrified out of his wits, his legs giving out beneath him as he crouched and covered his head. “Don’t—don’t kill me! Please!”

Cheng Chang found the voice familiar.

He walked over, struck a fire striker alight, and held it close to the man’s face—sure enough, it was Zhou Cai Ying.

Zhou Cai Ying, too, realized these two weren’t the black-clad assassins who’d just tried to kill him. He lifted his face from his arms and looked up timidly, then his eyes went wide. “M-Mingying?”

Having just narrowly escaped an assassination attempt, he was still badly shaken. Seeing Cheng Chang, though stunned, he had no thought to spare for asking how the man was still alive—he simply crouched there, trembling.

Cheng Chang’s gaze swept over the bodies scattered around them. “Did you do this?”

“No.”

Yun Xi, using the light of the fire striker, examined them more closely and said to Cheng Chang, “Third Young Master, all these men in black were killed with a single clean blow each—extremely skilled work. He has no martial training at all. This couldn’t possibly have been his doing.”

“Just now—just now, these men were trying to kill me,” Zhou Cai Ying finally managed to explain after a long moment. “Someone came out and saved me.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know,” Zhou Cai Ying said. “It was too dark. He wore a black cloak, his face covered—I couldn’t see clearly.”

“Just one person?” Yun Xi asked, startled.

Prince Ling’s assassins were certainly no slouches at combat.

For a single person to not only dispatch this many killers with such clean, decisive skill, but also protect someone as completely untrained as Zhou Cai Ying—what kind of ability did that take?

“Yes, just one,” Zhou Cai Ying said. “He was still here just now—he only just left.”

“I thought… I thought he’d abandoned me and left. But now that I think about it, he probably heard the sound of your horses approaching.”

Able to identify hoofbeats by sound alone?

Yun Xi froze.

Not just in Jinling—across the entirety of Da Sui, there couldn’t be more than ten people with that kind of skill.

Could it be Wei Jie?

No, it couldn’t be him. If it were Wei Jie, why would he leave the moment he saw them coming?

But then who else in all of Jinling would bother saving Zhou Cai Ying’s life for no particular reason?

Cheng Chang asked, “Aside from wearing a black cloak, did this person have any other distinguishing features?”

Zhou Cai Ying thought hard for a moment, then said, “Yes—yes, there was!”

“He seemed to… only have one arm.”

“One arm?”

“Yes. When he fought, he only used his left hand. His right sleeve looked… looked empty.”