Beyond the western edge of the city, along a desolate path heading north, stood a teahouse.

The teahouse had been abandoned for years. Aside from a visit the previous year, on the eve of Yun Xi’s departure for the front, it looked as though no one had set foot there in a long while.

As night fell, A’Jiu arrived outside the teahouse. She removed the sachet from her waist and tucked it into her robes, then pushed open the door and spoke into the empty room. “It’s me.”

A moment later, a soft sound came from the eastern wall — a hidden cabinet swung open, and Yun Luo stepped out. “How did you find this place?”

“Saw the code you left for me, didn’t I?” A’Jiu said.

She sat down at the table, picked up the teapot, and took a swig straight from it. “Lucky you warned me. The moment I left the city, several groups tailed me — two of them were actually pretty good. But none of them could out-circle me. I led them running loops through the city until I lost them all. Don’t worry — unless someone else can read your code, there’s no way anyone finds this place.”

“A’Jiu.” At that moment, a man in black steadied himself against the doorframe and stepped out from the inner room.

A’Jiu set down the teapot and hurried over to support the man in black. “Brother Ning Huan, how is your injury?”

Ning Huan sat down at the table as well. “It’s fine now. Yun Luo told me you were hurt going to Yangzhou to steal the letter. Are you healed?”

“Not as badly hurt as you were. I’m long healed,” A’Jiu said, then added, proud of herself, “You have no idea — that man surnamed Chai brought over two hundred Patrol Bureau guards to catch me, plus the Yangzhou prefectural office men, several hundred in total, and I still managed to slip them for the better part of half a day!”

Yun Luo asked, “Did you bring Registrar Li’s blood letter?”

“Brought it, brought it.” A’Jiu reached into her robes and pulled out a piece of white silk marked with characters written in blood, handing it to him.

Yun Luo lit a lamp with a fire striker and studied the silk carefully in its glow. Then he had A’Jiu stretch the silk taut, drew a dagger from his waist, and cut it open along the middle, retrieving a letter hidden in a layer within.

The letter was written on an extremely thin piece of silk, concealed inside the blood letter — not something anyone would notice unless they knew to look.

A’Jiu had only known she was stealing a blood letter; she hadn’t expected there to be such a hidden mechanism within it. “What is this?”

“It’s the testimony Registrar Li promised me.”

Over the past year, Prince Ling had steadily consolidated power, and his reach had begun to extend into the Ministry of War.

Sensing that things were taking a dangerous turn, Yun Luo had feared that Prince Ling might use the opportunity to destroy the defense map of the northern frontier, making it impossible to ever uncover the truth of the battle that had taken his father’s life. After discussing it with Ning Huan, they had decided to infiltrate the palace and steal the map themselves.

Yun Luo wasn’t familiar with the layout of Sui Palace’s defenses, so the task of stealing the map had fallen to Ning Huan — though blind, he could pinpoint location purely by sound.

Even so, the palace guard was formidably tight, and Ning Huan had been discovered by Registrar Li of the Ministry of War while stealing the map.

Registrar Li had once received a great kindness from Yun Shuguang, and knowing the map was needed by Yun Luo, he had not only refrained from calling for guards to catch Ning Huan, but had actually helped him escape — and had promised to write out a full testimony to give to Yun Luo.

But the very next day after the map went missing, Prince Ling had set his sights on Registrar Li.

To protect himself, Registrar Li had resigned his post, citing negligence, and returned to his hometown of Yangzhou, hiding the testimony he’d written inside the prepared blood letter.

Unfortunately, before he could finish putting everything in order, Prince Ling’s assassins had come for him. When he refused to reveal the map’s whereabouts even at the cost of his life, they had taken it from him.

“This letter from Registrar Li explains how, back then, Prince Ling used the excuse of transferring grain supplies to secretly copy the northern frontier’s defense map and hand it to Samur, the Second Prince of Daman — which is how Father died in a battle that should have been won,” Yun Luo said.

A’Jiu’s eyes went wide at this.

She slammed her hand on the table and shot to her feet, blazing with fury. “I knew it! The old Marquis held the frontier for decades, fought a hundred battles and never lost one — even with Prince Yun stealing away the army’s grain, how could that battle possibly have cost so many lives and ended in such a bitter, hollow victory? So it was that black-hearted bastard colluding with the enemy the whole time!”

She asked, “Do you know why Prince Ling would collude with the enemy?”

Yun Luo said nothing.

Seeing he wouldn’t answer, A’Jiu pressed on. “But now that we have the defense map and Registrar Li’s testimony, can’t we avenge the Marquis?”

“I’m afraid not yet,” Ning Huan said. “Right now the Third Young Master is locked in fierce conflict with Prince Ling, but he isn’t the rightful heir after all — there’s no telling how things will turn out in the end. Prince Ling’s roots run deep in the court. With only these two pieces of evidence, we likely can’t bring him down. We need to find witnesses — we need to find the Fifth Prince.”

“But this past year, we’ve searched every portrait artist in Jinling, big and small, and found no trace of the Fifth Prince at all,” Yun Luo said.

“Why are you looking for portrait artists?”

Ning Huan said, “The Fifth Prince’s birth mother, Consort Wan, was a master painter in her day. While the Fifth Prince lived in seclusion with her at Mingyin Temple, she taught him everything she knew of the art, holding nothing back. He was clever — even as a small child he’d already mastered fine brushwork. He’s past his coming-of-age now, and if he’s come to Jinling, it’s quite likely he’s making his living off his painting skills.”

“You keep calling him clever — couldn’t he just sit for the imperial examinations and become an official?”

Ning Huan shook his head. “Unlikely. Back then he went to the frontier precisely to stay far from court politics. Even if he’s returned to Jinling now, he’s not the type to seek office.”

Hearing this, A’Jiu fell into thought as well.

But she was quiet only a moment before suddenly smacking her forehead. “Oh no — you two distracted me, I nearly forgot the actual reason I came here.”

She turned to Yun Luo and Ning Huan. “You two need to go, now. The court may already be onto you.”

Both men startled. “What do you mean?”

“You know A’Ting has a guard named Tian Si? Well, Tian Si has a younger brother who placed second in last spring’s imperial examinations. He’s investigating your case right now, and he’s already found a lead.”

A’Jiu headed toward the inner room through the hidden door as she continued, “Weren’t you saying earlier that someone up north found a witness? While there’s still time, you two should go make contact with that person so he doesn’t get intercepted by Prince Ling’s men on the road to the capital. As for the Fifth Prince — the old Emperor’s already got people scrambling to find him, so you two don’t need to rush yourselves on that front.”

As she spoke, she spread a square of cloth on the bamboo couch in the inner room, meaning to help them pack their things. But the moment she bent down, her head suddenly swam, and she swayed on the spot, nearly toppling over.

Seeing this, Yun Luo asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

A’Jiu sat down on the bamboo couch and shook her head. “Ah, it’s nothing — probably my wounds haven’t fully healed yet. Just ran a big loop around Jinling and I’m a bit worn out.”

Yun Luo knew A’Jiu well — she was the type who, no matter how badly hurt, wouldn’t utter a single complaint as long as she could still stand. For her to admit to being “worn out” at a moment like this meant she truly had nothing left in her.

Yun Luo said, “Then rest a while. Ning Huan and I will wait for you.”

A’Jiu quickly protested, “No, no, it’s fine — you two should go, before I hold you up.”

Yun Luo looked at her. “Rest a while. Once you’ve recovered, you’ll come with us.”

At this, A’Jiu looked up at him, startled. “You’re willing to take me with you?”

Ever since returning to Jinling, Yun Luo had kept A’Jiu at Yun Xi’s side — partly so she could protect Yun Xi, and partly because the mission he and Ning Huan were pursuing was fraught with danger, and he hadn’t wanted to drag her into it.

Even sending her to steal the blood letter had only happened because Ning Huan was injured — otherwise he wouldn’t have let A’Jiu go at all.

Yun Luo said, “You’ve stolen the blood letter now. Staying in Jinling isn’t safe for you anymore. Better you come with me and Ning Huan.”

A’Jiu nodded eagerly, her excitement plain. “Good, then I’ll rest just long enough for one stick of incense to burn down. Wait for me, it won’t be long!”

As she spoke, she seemed to remember something and pulled a sachet from her robes, holding it out to Yun Luo. “This — is this yours?”

Yun Luo glanced at it — a lake-blue silk sachet embroidered with the pattern of a gray hawk. He nodded. “It’s mine. Why?”

A’Jiu turned her face away, looking off to the side, and said with studied indifference, “Oh, nothing really — just, Sister-in-law was sorting through some things and found two sachets. Since she can’t wear scent because of her poor health, she said she’d give one to me and one to A’Ting.”

Hearing it was from Fang Furan, Yun Luo paused, then fell quiet.

His features were strikingly handsome, his eyes clear, sharply defined between black and white.

Yun Xi had inherited that from him.

Such brows and eyes, on a man, read as sharp and dashing; on a woman, they read as radiant.

Seeing his expression, A’Jiu said, “You want it? Then take it back — it was yours to begin with anyway.”

She glanced down at the sachet in her hand and added, “Look how new it still is — Sister-in-law must have kept it carefully all these years.”

Yun Luo said, “Keep it. I don’t want it.”

“You really don’t want it?” A’Jiu blinked.

“Really don’t.”

A’Jiu brightened at once, tossing the sachet up and catching it out of the air with a grin. “Then I’m keeping it!”

At last, this little thing was truly, properly hers.

She fastened the sachet happily to her belt, not realizing that Yun Luo had caught every bit of her delighted expression.

Once the sachet was secured, she lay back on the bamboo couch and closed her eyes. “Just one stick of incense’s worth of rest, and I’ll be up and ready, guaranteed!”

Yun Luo looked at her, made a low sound of acknowledgment, and withdrew from the inner room, pulling the door shut behind her.

The night had grown deep. Yun Luo packed a simple bundle and sat down at the table.

Hearing the movement, Ning Huan asked, “What are you actually thinking?”

Yun Luo glanced at him. “Thinking about what?”

“You know exactly what,” Ning Huan said. He and Yun Luo had weathered hardship together for years now, close enough to be called brothers, and so he spoke plainly. “A’Jiu has followed you through every hardship, running all over creation with you all these years — don’t you owe her some kind of answer? You can’t keep treating her like just a brother, just a subordinate, forever. Surely you know how she feels.”

Yun Luo said, “She grew up following me around. In the past, I truly did only think of her as a brother-in-arms.”

He remembered how, after his father’s death, he’d returned to the frontier as Zhaoyuan’s deputy commander.

The old subordinates left behind on the grasslands, afraid of stirring up his grief, had said nothing of the Marquis when they saw him, choosing instead to congratulate him, one after another, on his upcoming marriage.

A’Jiu had stood at the back of the crowd that day, looking dazed.

It wasn’t until everyone had dispersed that she came up and shoved him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting married ahead of time! Some brother you are!”

Later, when Zhaoyuan betrayed them, Yun Luo had barely escaped death, and it was she who had dug him out from beneath a mountain of corpses on the battlefield and carried him on her back all the way to Jishan Fu.

Such a bold, carefree person — and yet she had nursed him day and night without rest, begging the physicians with everything she had not to amputate his right arm. It was only then that he had suddenly understood — perhaps what she felt for him was not simply the bond between brothers-in-arms.

“If you still care about the Fang woman, go ask her yourself, face to face. When I left the capital in a hurry back then to search for the Fifth Prince, I only learned the broad strokes of what happened between her and Prince Ling. The truth may not be exactly as I told it.”

Yun Luo said, “I know well enough what she’s like.”

He paused, then continued, “Right now, I need to clear Father’s name — I can’t let him and all those soldiers on the frontier have died for nothing. Everything else has to wait. In the future, if it’s possible, I won’t let—”

He didn’t finish. Outside, a sudden noise cut through the night.

The sound was faint, almost nothing — like the chirp of an insect, something an ordinary person would never even notice.

But Yun Luo and Ning Huan were no ordinary people.

The two of them fell silent instantly, on high alert.

But how could anyone have found this place? Could someone else really read the code he’d left?

It couldn’t be A’Ting — if it were her, she’d have simply walked in. Why would she be sneaking around out there?

Yun Luo listened carefully. Outside, there was the faint rustle of movement — dozens of people, no, perhaps a hundred or more.

So be it. Whoever had come meant them no good.

Yun Luo rose without a sound, stepped into the inner room, and shook A’Jiu, who was sunk deep in sleep. “A’Jiu, wake up, quickly.”

A’Jiu was a soldier through and through — despite the dizziness and weakness still weighing on her, Yun Luo’s call had her bolting upright at once. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s come. We’re leaving.”

A’Jiu nodded and had just gotten to her feet when her legs buckled beneath her, and she nearly collapsed to the floor.

Yun Luo caught her. “What’s wrong with you?”

A’Jiu shook her head. Her dizziness had been fierce earlier; she’d thought resting would fix it, but instead it had only gotten worse — she couldn’t even stand steady now.

She’d been perfectly fine when she arrived.

Yun Luo looked around and his gaze fell on the sachet hanging at A’Jiu’s waist.

An unpleasant thought flickered through his mind.

“This sachet — when did she give it to you?”

“Just today. Before I left.”

Yun Luo immediately unfastened the sachet and emptied its contents onto the bamboo couch.

Patchouli, mugwort leaves, cloves — and one clear, gel-like substance.

Yun Luo picked up the gel-like substance and smelled it. There was no scent at all.

He recognized this kind of trick. Some substances appeared harmless on their own, but when mixed with something else, they became poison.

But then… what else on A’Jiu could be the culprit?

His gaze drifted to the pouch at her waist, and he reached to remove it as well. But A’Jiu got there first, clamping her hand over the pouch and saying, weakly, “There’s nothing wrong with what’s in here.”

Hearing that the inner room had gone quiet for so long, Ning Huan called out, “What’s happened?”

Yun Luo helped A’Jiu out of the inner room. “She may have been poisoned. It won’t wear off quickly.”

Ning Huan took A’Jiu’s pulse. “It’s probably not poison — just a drug meant to sap someone’s strength.”

Outside, the footsteps had grown louder. Through the window, the fierce glow of torchlight was already visible.

Imperial soldiers had surrounded the teahouse. A man in the lead shouted, “Bold thieves! You dare steal the Ministry of War’s defense map, and still refuse to come out and surrender yourselves?!”

A’Jiu recognized the voice. “That’s… Cao Yuan, Captain of the Patrol Bureau. He’s Prince Ling’s man.”

Staying in the teahouse meant waiting to be slaughtered — if these men wanted their lives, all it would take was a torch to the roof.

Yun Luo pulled his hood low over his head and made a snap decision. “Let’s go. We’ll take a look outside.”

The three of them left the teahouse together, and outside they found several hundred Patrol Bureau guards surrounding the building, inside and out.

Straining to hold herself together, A’Jiu glanced around, then said in a low voice, “Yun Luo, you two — go, quickly. Don’t worry about me.”

Yun Luo surveyed the terrain — open wasteland on the city’s outskirts, vast and empty, offering far less cover than the city itself would have.

Given the current situation, even escaping alone would be difficult, let alone with an injured Ning Huan and a poisoned A’Jiu in tow.

Ning Huan spoke up too. “Yun Luo, go, quickly. A’Jiu and I will hold them off for you.”

But the three of them had weathered every hardship together — how could he abandon them now?

Yun Luo scanned the distance further and suddenly spotted a carriage stopped along the desolate path behind the ranks of guards.

The carriage was narrow and small, surrounded by a number of guards — had his eyesight not been so sharp, he never would have noticed it at all.

An idea formed. He handed A’Jiu to Ning Huan. “Protect her.”

The night wind rose. In an instant, Yun Luo leapt forward, stepping off the shoulder of a guard in his path, and cut through the encircling ranks with startling speed. In the same motion, he drew the long blade at his waist, swung it in a wide arc to slash open the side of the carriage, and pressed the blade to the throat of the person inside. “Have your men release those two!” he said, voice cold.

Sitting inside the carriage was a woman, wrapped in a black cloak, her face hidden.

She clearly couldn’t make out Yun Luo’s face.

But the moment she heard his voice, she froze, and slowly lifted her head.