Cheng Chang turned around, and seeing Yun Xi, asked gently, “Why haven’t you gone to rest?”

Yun Xi said, “If Third Young Master hadn’t arrived in time last night with the Imperial City Bureau’s troops to the western outskirts, I alone would have had a hard time dealing with Prince Ling. I haven’t thanked you yet.”

She went on, “How did Third Young Master know something had happened out west of the city?”

Cheng Chang didn’t answer right away. Instead, he held out his hand toward her. “Come here.”

His hand was very handsome, well-defined at the joints, long and slender like jade. Yun Xi pressed her lips together and made a small sound of assent, placing her hand in his.

Cheng Chang pulled her over to sit beside him, and only then said, “Tian Si told me.”

“Tian Si?”

Cheng Chang said, “Tian Wang’an sent him. He said that while investigating a case, something seemed to have happened on your end, and told him to find me. I asked around, learned you were west of the city, and borrowed troops from Wei Jie to rush over.”

In truth, even if Tian Ze hadn’t sent Tian Si to find him, he’d already been planning to head west of the city anyway.

But he didn’t mention that he’d secretly had someone watching A’Jiu and Fang Furan—no need to bring that up.

Yun Xi said, “Yes, yesterday I was investigating the theft of the defense map together with Wang’an, and in the end the trail led to A’Jiu. When I learned something had happened to her, I hastily called up the troops from the Guangxi Bureau and rushed out of the city after her. I left in such a hurry I forgot to let Wang’an know, but thankfully he was thoughtful enough to go find you.”

Cheng Chang looked at Yun Xi.

Most of the time she was quite sharp, but she was also guileless—once she trusted someone, she almost never guarded herself or paid close attention.

By rights, Yun Xi, a fourth-rank general of the court, leading over two hundred troops from the Guangxi Bureau to rescue A’Jiu outside the city, should have been more than enough to handle even the gravest of cases.

But Tian Ze didn’t know that Yun Xi’s opponent was Prince Ling—so how had he so keenly guessed that Yun Xi and A’Jiu’s group might be in danger, and even had Tian Si come find him at Prince Cong’s mansion?

Could this Tian Wang’an possess some gift of foresight?

The thought led Cheng Chang to another matter, and he asked, “By the way, this Tian Si of yours—I recall he can read and write?”

“Yes, he can,” Yun Xi nodded. “And his handwriting is quite good too.”

Cheng Chang asked, “If he can read and write, why did he become a constable when he first came to Jinling?”

In this era, literate people were already few, and if he could write a fine hand besides, why would he lower himself to such hard labor as being a constable?

Yun Xi said, “I asked him that once. He said the pay for constables was higher—at the time he needed to support Wang’an’s studies for the imperial examinations.”

“Higher pay for constables?” Cheng Chang said, puzzled. “I seem to remember that clerks and scribes in government offices are paid more.”

“Third Young Master doesn’t know this—though clerks and scribes are paid more in salary, they get no supplements. Constables and catchers, because they have to patrol at night, get supplements, and the office kitchen provides both morning and evening meals for them. Add it all up, and they can save quite a few coppers a month,” Yun Xi said with a smile.

She continued, “I remember when Tian Si first came to the Capital Bureau, I had just become a catcher myself. Because the pay was higher, he insisted on becoming a constable even though he had no martial skill. At the Capital Bureau, most constables were assigned to work alongside catchers, but no catcher wanted to take him on, and he was bullied constantly by the veteran constables. As it happened, since I was a woman, no constable wanted to work with me either, so I took him under my wing, and he’s stayed with me ever since.”

Cheng Chang said, “Tian Si came to the Capital Bureau around the same time you’d just become a catcher?”

“Yes,” Yun Xi nodded.

Cheng Chang fell silent.

Just that morning, Ning Huan had said that the year Yun Luo “died,” there had been a drought in Huaibei, and two boys had come from the north, heading toward Jinling.

If he remembered correctly, that was also the very same year Yun Xi had gone to the northern frontier to “collect the remains” of Yun Luo, and after returning to Jinling, had sought a position as a catcher at the Capital Bureau.

Seeing Cheng Chang’s expression grow heavy, Yun Xi couldn’t help asking, “Third Young Master, what’s wrong?”

Cheng Chang didn’t voice the suspicion in his heart, smiling instead and saying, “Nothing. It’s just that your brother and Ning Huan’s theft of the defense map is already recorded in the Ministry of Justice’s case files, and Prince Ling is bound to fan the flames over it. Even if I can stall it for a while, I can’t hold it off forever. I’ll need to think of a way to handle it when His Majesty eventually asks.”

Yun Xi understood Cheng Chang’s concerns.

Though he currently held great power, when it came down to it, in the current generation he was still only from a collateral branch.

He had already recklessly deployed the Imperial City Bureau’s troops the night before. If he abused his authority further by continuing to delay the case of Yun Luo and Ning Huan stealing the defense map, in the emperor’s eyes it would look like blatant, ambitious wolfish intent.

Yun Xi said, “Third Young Master needn’t trouble yourself over this. I’ll think of a way.”

She tossed her head and smiled. “I haven’t spent all these years in the court and the martial world for nothing. Besides, I’m still in charge of catching bandits for the Guangxi Bureau—I’ll surely find some way to stall for a while.”

Cheng Chang watched her. As she tossed her head, a breeze swept through the pavilion, gently lifting the dark vermilion scarf covering her neck.

He suddenly asked, “Has your neck gotten any better?”

Yun Xi was startled and was about to ask, “Better how?” when the words hadn’t even left her mouth before she suddenly understood—he meant the red marks left on her neck and body from what he’d done to her.

It had only happened the night before last, but with so much having happened these past two days, she’d nearly forgotten it entirely. Though they hadn’t gone all the way, there had been intimate contact between them.

Flustered, Yun Xi looked away. “It should—it should be better.”

Cheng Chang kept looking at her and said, “Let me see.”

“See what?”

Cheng Chang said, “Let me see if it’s better, whether it needs medicine applied.”

Seeing Yun Xi say nothing, he continued with great seriousness, “If you won’t let me look, who else would you show it to? No one else would be appropriate.”

Hearing him put it that way, Yun Xi found herself thinking he had a point.

With A’Jiu badly injured, she had no other close family nearby. She could hardly ask her brother to look at it—if he saw it, there was no telling how he’d interrogate her.

So Yun Xi nodded. “All right.”

Cheng Chang reached out and, one loop at a time, gently unwound the scarf covering her neck.

His movements were very light, as if he were afraid of startling her.

Yet even after two days, the red marks on her neck hadn’t faded much at all—still vivid, standing out against her pale skin like plum blossoms blooming in winter snow.

Seeing Cheng Chang say nothing for a long while, Yun Xi asked, “Third Young Master, am I better?”

After a moment, Cheng Chang finally said, “Mm, better.”

He took the scarf and wound it back around her neck, saying flatly, “This isn’t really serious. Once you’re back at the mansion, just rest more, and press a warm damp cloth against it. And—”

He paused.

Yun Xi looked up at him, waiting for what came next.

The two of them were actually quite close together. She could feel his cool, clear breath, and see the gentle, easy amusement in his eyes.

“And,” he lowered his voice slightly, still perfectly serious, “next time I’ll be gentler.”

Hearing this, Yun Xi froze for a moment.

By the time she came to her senses, her ears had already burned bright red. She reached out to push him away, and he had already burst out laughing.

Not long after, footsteps sounded outside the pavilion. Cheng Chang turned his head to look—it was Zhang Dahu.

“Young Prince, General Yun’s looking for General Yun.”

Realizing that sounded off, he corrected himself, “General Xuanwei is looking for General Mingwei.”

Yun Luo had already gone to rest, so if he was suddenly looking for her now, it was probably about A’Jiu.

Concerned for A’Jiu, Yun Xi didn’t dare delay a moment and immediately said, “Then I’ll go right away.”

Cheng Chang watched Yun Xi’s retreating figure, and once she’d gone some distance, remembering the suspicion he’d had about the Tian siblings earlier, instructed Zhang Dahu, “Go find Su Tai for me.”

Unexpectedly, upon hearing this, Zhang Dahu stiffened his neck, tilted his head up, and stood there without moving for a long moment.

Cheng Chang looked at him. “What, do you have something to say?”

In truth, ever since Cheng Chang had returned to Jinling, Zhang Dahu had been somewhat off with him.

Even when his young prince occasionally asked him something, he’d respond with reluctant indifference.

Cheng Chang could roughly guess what was on his mind, but he couldn’t be bothered to deal with it.

Today, it seemed Zhang Dahu had finally reached his limit, and he said, “Young Prince, I saw everything just now.”

Cheng Chang’s tone was flat. “Saw what?”

“Young Prince, how could you take such liberties with General Yun just now?”

“General Yun is a young lady from a good family, and she’s done a great kindness for you too. Both times you went missing, it was her who went looking for you. You can’t treat her like that.”

Cheng Chang looked at him. “And who exactly are you to her, that you get to question me about this?”

This question left Zhang Dahu at a loss.

To be honest, he really had no particular relationship with Yun Xi. But since his young prince had grown close to her these past two years, he too had, by extension, grown close to her.

The year before, when the young prince had disappeared at Baiyun Temple, he’d gone with Yun Xi all the way to the East Sea to search for him—they’d faced life and death together, so to speak.

And having faced life and death together, that made them practically family.

Zhang Dahu held his head up, not daring to look at Cheng Chang. “I’m… like her natal family.”

“Does she herself know you’re her ‘natal family’?” Cheng Chang asked.

“Whatever the case, Young Prince, you can’t do this,” Zhang Dahu pressed on stubbornly.

“Why not?”

“In the past, the women you liked were always from along the Qinhuai River—you’d switch every month or two, and forget them completely within half a year. But General Yun is different. She’s not that kind of woman. If you’re going to keep liking other women too, then you shouldn’t like her, and you can’t treat her that way!” Zhang Dahu said.

In truth, Cheng Chang could see exactly what Zhang Dahu’s feelings toward Yun Xi actually were.

It wasn’t romantic interest—more like something resembling worship. Like someone who’d finally found a truly wonderful person and was terrified of anyone else coveting her.

By rights, Zhang Dahu’s words and behavior today already amounted to overstepping his place, but Cheng Chang was in a good mood and couldn’t be bothered to hold it against him.

Still, he had no interest in explaining himself to him. Zhang Dahu was the sort of person for whom, if his mind could just manage to turn a corner, it would practically be a miracle of creation. So why waste words on him?

Cheng Chang said simply, “Do you think Yun Xi is good-looking?”

Zhang Dahu nodded. “Yes, especially good-looking.”

Cheng Chang sat back at ease and looked at Zhang Dahu. “Then listen well. I think she’s good-looking too—that shallow, if you want to call it that.”

“I only like her, and no one else.”

“I’m also going to bring her into the mansion.”

“I’m going to marry her as my consort.”

Cheng Chang watched Zhang Dahu’s eyes widen further and further, and asked, “Not convinced?”

“Can’t accept it?”

“Feel like the sky’s falling?”

“Feel like your dreams have all been shattered?”

Cheng Chang said flatly, “If you’re not convinced, then you don’t need to stay by my side any longer. As it happens, I intend to put this estate to use—you can stay behind at Wangshan Retreat from now on and look after the place.”

Zhang Dahu, still stiff-necked, shouted loudly, “…Convinced!”

“Good, as long as you’re convinced,” Cheng Chang nodded.

Seeing Zhang Dahu still standing there ramrod straight, he added coldly, “Aren’t you going to go find Su Tai?”

Zhang Dahu said “Oh” and walked off, full of grievance.