By the time Yun Xi had finished her duties and returned to the Marquis Zhongyong’s residence, it was nearly evening.
She went straight to her own small courtyard, changed out of the pale yellow gown she’d worn all day, and had Mingcui bring her official uniform.
Just as she was changing, she heard a knock at the door outside, and Fang Fulan pushed it open and stepped in. “A’Ting?”
Yun Xi blinked. “Sister-in-law? Weren’t you supposed to see the doctor at the apothecary today?”
Fang Fulan set down a small plate of pastries she’d brought and smiled. “Doctor Xue had some family matter today, so she told me to come back tomorrow instead.”
Seeing Yun Xi in the middle of changing into her official uniform, she asked, “What are you changing for, at this hour? Off to Xishan Camp?”
Yun Xi made a soft sound in confirmation.
Fang Fulan looked at her for a long moment, then said, “A’Ting, I heard… the Third Young Master has returned to the capital?”
“Yes, he’s back.” Yun Xi pressed her lips together and smiled. “So I want to finish up my duties quickly—if the Third Young Master needs anything from me, I want to be ready to help him!”
Fang Fulan said gently, “Ever since you came back from Lingnan, you’ve barely stayed home for more than a few days at a time—always either at Xishan Camp or out looking for the Third Young Master. Just the other day you finally came home for a bit, and then said you had to go on assignment to Yangzhou. Now that the Third Young Master’s been found, you should at least stay and eat dinner at home before you go.”
“I won’t have time to eat. If I delay any longer, I won’t reach Xishan Camp until morning.” Yun Xi said, fastening her sash and picking up her sword. “Let me just go check on Uncle Bai in the back courtyard before I leave.”
The spring dampness had been heavy lately, and Uncle Bai’s old leg ailment had flared up again these past few days, keeping him largely confined indoors. Fortunately, Zhao Wu had taken over most of the household management duties, so Uncle Bai was content enough with the rest. Yun Xi looked in on him, exchanged a few words, and then left with Bai Ling.
The two of them walked to a corridor in the back courtyard. Bai Ling glanced around, and seeing no one nearby, took a slip of paper from her pouch and handed it to Yun Xi. “Young Miss, these are the dates and times the Young Madam has gone to the apothecary recently.”
Yun Xi made a soft sound, took the paper, and read through it carefully.
This was something she’d asked Bai Ling to keep track of ever since returning from Lingnan.
The mole within the Marquis Zhongyong’s household could only be among Fang Fulan, Zhao Wu, and Bai Ling. Yun Xi had come back too late, and in her frantic investigating, had only managed to clear Bai Ling of suspicion.
But with her duties keeping her occupied, and having to search for Cheng Chang on top of that, she’d been stretched too thin to do more herself—so under the pretext of having Zhao Wu take over the household management, she’d had Uncle Bai keep an eye on him, and under the pretext of worrying about Fang Fulan’s health, had Bai Ling secretly track the timing of each of Fang Fulan’s visits to the apothecary.
Bai Ling said, “The Young Madam hasn’t gone to the apothecary very often these past few days—twice, Doctor Xue actually came to the residence to treat her instead. Doctor Xue said the Young Madam’s illness is mostly brought on by worry and anxiety, probably because Young Miss has been away from home so much since returning from Lingnan. Actually, if Young Miss came home more often, the Young Madam’s condition would probably improve day by day.”
Yun Xi silently committed a few of the dates on the paper to memory, then folded it up and tucked it into her sleeve pouch, smiling. “I know. Once things settle down a bit, I’ll come home more often to keep Sister-in-law company.”
With that, she called a servant to bring her horse and left the residence through the back courtyard.
The clouds hung heavy on the horizon. By dusk, before the evening glow had even had a chance to touch the sky, it was already swallowed by encroaching darkness. Sensing that a night rain was coming, Yun Xi urged her horse to a lane just outside the residence gate.
In the lane, one of the Marquis’s former loyal guards was already waiting for her. Yun Xi recalled the dates of Fang Fulan’s apothecary visits and instructed him, “Go look into whether anything significant happened in Jinling, particularly at court, on the sixteenth of the first month, the twenty-ninth of the first month, and the fourth of the second month.”
The guard accepted the order and, racing to beat the night rain, rode off toward the palace.
That night, the rain that had been building all day finally fell, pattering on steadily through the darkness, easing only faintly by the following morning. Mingcui, holding an umbrella, helped Fang Fulan into the carriage, and together they made their way to the Hechun Hall apothecary by the Qinhuai riverbank.
Fang Fulan stepped down from the carriage and handed Mingcui a piece of silver. “A’Ting’s new water-green gown has a tear in it. Go to Lingluo Fabric House and buy the finest silk thread you can find—I’ll mend it for her once I’m back.”
Mingcui said, “Of course. This servant will come straight back to keep the Young Madam company once the thread’s bought.”
Fang Fulan smiled gently. “No need. Lingluo is far from here but close to the residence—it wouldn’t be convenient for you to come back and forth. Just buy the thread and head straight home. Once Doctor Xue’s finished with my treatment, the residence servants will come fetch me.”
Mingcui thought it over, nodded in agreement, took the silver, and headed off toward Lingluo Fabric House.
Inside the apothecary’s back room, Doctor Xue opened the hidden door and led Fang Fulan into the adjoining courtyard.
By now the rain had stopped, though the sky remained overcast, and the wind carried a faint chill. Prince Ling, dressed in a pale blue robe, was already waiting by the pavilion.
A small stove in the pavilion kept wine warm. He held a cup in hand without drinking from it, and seeing Fang Fulan approach from a distance, smiled. “You’ve come.”
Fang Fulan bowed slightly. “Your Highness.”
She followed him into the pavilion, hesitated a moment, then said, “I heard the Third Young Master… has come back.”
Prince Ling’s hand, holding the wine cup, paused briefly. “Yes.”
“This cousin of mine truly has an unkillable constitution. Last time he fell off a cliff and stayed unconscious for two months, then came back as though nothing had happened. This time he was clearly locked away amid the flames, and yet he’s somehow snatched his life back once again.” Prince Ling said unhurriedly. “Did Yun Xi ever mention to you how Mingying survived?”
“No,” Fang Fulan shook her head. “Ever since A’Ting came back from Lingnan, she hasn’t shared much with me about anything, and she’s often away from the residence. I don’t know if she’s grown suspicious of me, or if she’s simply avoiding the marriage proposals.”
“Never mind. If she doesn’t want to say, you needn’t press her about it. Either way, the fact remains that Mingying is alive—and he knows I’m the one who harmed him, so there’s no chance he and I can coexist from here on.” Prince Ling said, then, remembering that Chai Ping had sent word claiming Qin Jiu had stolen the blood letter Registrar Li left behind, asked, “How much do you know about this Qin Jiu?”
“A’Jiu?” Fang Fulan paused. “Not much. I only know she was born and raised on the northern frontier, originally Yun Luo’s guard. Later, once A’Ting went to the battlefield, she went to protect A’Ting instead. Last year, when she arrived in Jinling, she told me that the Qin family had served the Yun clan for generations—that the year… Yun Luo was killed in battle, she and her father didn’t want to follow Pei Lan, so they took some of the Marquis’s loyal old troops and withdrew to Jishan Fu on the northern frontier, where they lived for three years.”
At this, Fang Fulan couldn’t help asking, “Does Your Highness suspect A’Jiu?”
Prince Ling said, “That Registrar Li at the Ministry of War oversaw the treasury office for many years. The way that northern frontier defense map went missing was strange—he probably knew a great deal about what was really going on. I never expected…”
He’d never expected that after sending men to Yangzhou to silence Registrar Li, the man would leave behind a blood letter with his dying breath.
And if that blood letter had indeed been stolen by Qin Jiu, did that mean the Ministry of War storehouse theft was connected to this Qin Jiu as well?
At this thought, Prince Ling decided not to say more to Fang Fulan about it. The Marquis Zhongyong’s household had shown her great kindness—why trouble her mind over who exactly had stolen that defense map, or why?
So he said instead, “It’s nothing. I was simply thinking that since the stolen defense map was the one once used by the former Marquis Zhongyong, this Qin Jiu might know something useful.”
As they spoke, a guard came forward and bowed. “Your Highness, the ancient inkstone you sent men to find has arrived in Jinling.”
“Truly?” Prince Ling asked. “Where is it now?”
“The county magistrate of Qu County delivered it personally. He’s currently waiting outside the courtyard gate,” the guard said, then added, “This subject will go fetch the inkstone at once.”
Before long, the guard carefully carried in a brocade box. Inside lay a jade inkstone of a water-pale, translucent hue, ancient and elegantly simple in design.
According to legend, Empress Xiangyang of the previous dynasty had once been a famed and gifted woman of letters. When Emperor Xiangyang was still a prince, hoping to win her hand, he’d sent men to seek out a rare and precious jade from the eastern seas and had it carved into an inkstone as a gift for her. Later, when the previous dynasty fell into chaos, this peerless jade inkstone had been unfortunately lost. Fortunately, persistence paid off—Prince Ling had had men searching for it for years, and had finally recovered the treasure.
Prince Ling watched Fang Fulan, seeing her gaze linger on the jade inkstone, and instructed, “Have this inkstone locked away in the Mingxing Studio for me.”
The guard blinked, surprised. “Your Highness went to such trouble to find this inkstone—wasn’t it meant as a birthday gift for the Noble Consort Imperial?”
The Mingxing Studio in Prince Ling’s residence housed a great many treasures, but once anything was locked away in there, it never came out again.
“When did I ever say I meant to give this inkstone to her?” Prince Ling’s tone turned cold. “She’s fond of jade wares—just pick out any ordinary piece and send it to her.”
The guard hurriedly assented, then added apologetically, “This subject spoke out of turn.”
Fang Fulan said, “The day after tomorrow is, after all, the Noble Consort Imperial’s birthday—even His Majesty plans to attend and offer his personal congratulations. You should show at least a little consideration.”
“A little consideration?” Prince Ling said flatly. “All these years—has she ever shown any consideration for me?”
He stood, walked to the edge of the pavilion, and clasped his hands behind his back. “The year my mother consort died, Father had her name struck from the register of consorts. I missed her, and all I did was burn some paper offerings for her in the dead of night. That woman, eager to please Father, not only had my quarters searched and took away every last thing my mother had left me, but confined me to my rooms for half a month, making me miss my mother’s very first memorial rites.”
“Looking out for herself, standing by while others suffer—that’s simply the kind of person she is. She shouldn’t be surprised, then, that there’s no warmth left between mother and son now.”
His tone was cold and resolute. Hearing this, Fang Fulan let out a quiet sigh.
She thought back, for a moment, to the first time she’d met him—when she’d still been the eldest daughter of the Fang household, a Vice Minister’s family, and he’d been nothing more than the most disfavored prince in this deep and forbidding palace.
Fang Fulan was about to speak up to comfort him when a sudden gust of cold air caught in her lungs, sending her into a fit of coughing.
Seeing this, Prince Ling glanced at the guard outside the pavilion. The guard understood at once and hurried off to fetch Doctor Xue from the apothecary.
The wind outside was strong, so the group returned indoors together. Doctor Xue took Fang Fulan’s pulse, helped her sit on the couch, and draped a quilt over her. “The Young Madam’s constitution is delicate, and she’s caught a slight chill from the spring air these past few days—that’s why the cough. It’s nothing serious, though. This servant will brew a dose of medicine for the Young Madam; after taking it, an hour or two of rest should set things right.”
Fang Fulan said, “Just give me the prescription—I’ll rest once I’m back at the residence.”
Doctor Xue didn’t answer at once, instead glancing hesitantly at Prince Ling.
Prince Ling said, “If you head back to the residence now, you’ll likely catch another chill on the way—no sense letting a minor ailment turn into something serious. Better to rest here for a while first, and head back once night falls.”
Fang Fulan said, “A’Ting has a torn garment. I had Mingcui go buy embroidery thread so I could mend it for her today while the weather’s still mild enough for her to wear it a couple more days. Your Highness may not realize it, but that particular garment is her favorite.”
Prince Ling said, “Surely that kind of thing could be left to the servants at the residence.”
Fang Fulan smiled faintly. “I always mend A’Ting’s clothes myself.”
“Then it can wait until later,” Prince Ling said. “Didn’t you say she rushed off to Xishan Camp last night? She likely won’t be back for a couple of days. She’s rarely at the residence these days—it’d be lonely for you to go back alone.” He paused, then added gently, “I’ll stay with you today.”
Before long, Doctor Xue brought over the freshly brewed medicine. Prince Ling took it from her. “I’ll do it.”
He scooped up a spoonful of the medicine, blew on it to cool it, and brought it to Fang Fulan’s lips.
Thinking of how Emperor Zhaoyuan’s health was failing and most matters of state now rested on Prince Ling’s shoulders, Fang Fulan couldn’t help saying, “Your Highness needn’t stay with me—you should return to the palace and attend to state affairs first.”
Prince Ling paid this no mind, only saying, “Taking care of your health matters more to me than anything else.”
He scooped up another spoonful of medicine, looked at Fang Fulan, and smiled faintly. “There’s plenty of time yet. Rivers and mountains stretch on for ten thousand li, all manner of beautiful scenery waiting—I’ll show you all of it, eventually.”