By the time Yun Xi reached the palace, quite a crowd of officials had already gathered outside Wende Hall.

At a glance, there were men from the Three Judicial Offices, from the Secretariat, and others sent from the Ministry of War, the Privy Council, and various other bureaus, all waiting to be summoned.

The theft from the palace had always been a major case, and now that it had become entangled with General Xuanwei, along with the Ministry of Justice’s investigator having been charged with negligence besides, the matter could be blown up into almost any charge imaginable if the court chose to press it.

Word had spread through the palace, and everyone was on edge — but the doors of Wende Hall were sealed tight, and not a whisper of what was happening inside could be heard.

So Yun Xi and Cheng Ye, upon arriving, had no choice but to wait outside with everyone else.

Fortunately, a clerk from the Ministry of Justice, knowing Yun Xi and Cheng Ye were both close with Tian Ze, came over and bowed to the two of them, explaining the day’s events in detail.

“You know how Master Tian left jars of safflower ointment at several major medical halls in the capital while investigating the thief? The palace hounds, once they catch that scent, can track down whoever used it — that’s how General Xuanwei, Guard Ning, and Guard Qin were found that night. But after this morning’s court session, Master Tian said he’d handed the hounds the wrong medicine jar that day — that it was actually a common wound salve they’d been scenting, and that’s how the hounds happened to track down Guard Qin by coincidence. A complete mix-up, apparently.”

Hearing this, Yun Xi felt a quiet wave of relief inside.

She knew perfectly well that the Ministry of War’s defense map really had been stolen by Yun Luo and the others, and that Tian Ze’s investigative methods hadn’t been at fault at all. Fortunately, Tian Ze had always been extremely careful in how he handled the case — many of the finer details were known only to him, and the official case records had never been especially thorough. Now, with Emperor Zhaoyuan pressing the matter, everything rested on Tian Ze’s word alone, with no evidence to prove he was deceiving the throne.

“With today’s turn of events, Prince Ling, the Third Young Master, Minister Liu, Minister Luo, and Minister Chen from the Ministry of War are all inside listening to the proceedings. It seems Prince Ling’s position is that it’s far too convenient a coincidence — Master Tian using the palace hounds to track down a General Xuanwei who’d supposedly died and come back to life. The Third Young Master, on the other hand, seems to believe Master Tian, saying he has no reason to lie. Right now it all comes down to how His Majesty rules — fortunately, His Majesty has always thought highly of Master Tian.”

This much was true.

After placing second in the imperial examinations, Tian Ze had originally been assigned to the Hanlin Academy as a compiler. When he sought a transfer, protocol required a probationary posting to the provinces lasting one to three years. With no ancestral privilege and no powerful patron behind him, it had been Minister Liu of the Ministry of Justice, recognizing his talent, who had petitioned to waive the probationary requirement and bring him directly into the Ministry to serve. When Emperor Zhaoyuan heard it was Tian Ze in question, he’d approved it at once, and had even instructed Minister Liu afterward: “See that this young man is properly cultivated.”

No one was permitted to speak loudly outside Wende Hall, and with so many gathered together, no one dared discuss the matter much further. Before long, everyone fell silent and shuffled into orderly rows near the hall doors.

It wasn’t long before the doors swung open on either side, and two palace guards emerged escorting Tian Ze out.

Following behind Tian Ze was Wu Mao, the eunuch in charge of the brush and seal.

He pulled the doors shut, glanced over the assembled officials waiting outside, and said with a smile, “You may all disperse. Nothing further today.”

The officials understood at once — the matter had been settled, at least for now.

In truth, most of them had only gathered here out of fear that the Emperor’s anger might spread to implicate them as well. Now that the blame had settled squarely on Tian Ze alone, they let out a collective breath of relief.

One particularly curious official stepped forward. “May I ask, Eunuch Wu, what charge has been levied against Investigator Tian?”

Wu Mao, still smiling, said, “No serious charge at all. His Majesty said errors happen in the course of duty — a year’s stipend withheld, plus twenty strokes of the rod.”

A lenient sentence, it seemed.

Lenient was good — with such a light punishment, everyone present had even less to worry about.

And so the crowd exchanged farewells and began to disperse.

Yun Xi and Cheng Ye, hearing that Tian Ze was to be punished, still felt their chests tighten with worry. The two of them were about to hurry to the Ministry of Justice’s execution chamber when Wu Mao called out behind them, “Young Prince, General Mingwei, a moment please.”

He came forward and bowed. “The two of you are heading to the execution chamber, but I’m afraid Master Tian will have already received his punishment by the time you arrive. His Majesty just instructed that once the Ministry finishes with the rod, Master Tian is to be sent straight to the Imperial Medical Academy for treatment. The two of you might do better to head there instead.”

Yun Xi and Cheng Ye bowed together in return. “Thank you for the reminder, Eunuch Wu.”

Wu Mao smiled. “No need for thanks, Generals.” He glanced at Yun Xi, seemingly offhand, then added, “Court affairs have been especially demanding lately, and it’s already so late — His Majesty has kept Prince Ling, the Prince’s heir, and several other officials in Wende Hall discussing matters. There’s no telling how long it will go on. If the two of you have no urgent business with His Majesty yourselves, once you’ve seen Master Tian, you might as well head home early.”

This was, plainly, a hint that Yun Xi need not wait around for Cheng Chang.

Understanding his meaning, Yun Xi thanked him once more, and she and Cheng Ye hurried off toward the Imperial Medical Academy.

An apothecary official waiting outside the building told them, “The Ministry has already brought Master Tian in. The Academy Director is treating him inside right now — it may take some time. Master Tian’s injuries aren’t serious; a month or two of rest should see him fully recovered. The two of you might as well head home for now, and come visit again first thing tomorrow morning.”

Cheng Ye said, “We’ll wait here. Once the Director’s finished applying the medicine, we’d feel much easier seeing him with our own eyes.”

The official agreed, led the two of them to a side hall, served tea, and withdrew.

It was late spring, and the physicians on night duty at the Academy were all busy attending to Tian Ze, leaving the side hall empty save for the two of them.

Worried about Tian Ze’s condition, Yun Xi paced back and forth in the side hall, hands clasped behind her back.

Watching her, Cheng Ye thought for a moment, then said, “You’re still under a confinement order — leaving the residence without permission could bring punishment down on you. Wang’an’s fine for now — before His Majesty pursues the matter further, you should head back. I’ll stay here and keep watch. The moment there’s news, I’ll have someone let you know right away.”

Yun Xi said, “No. Wang’an’s condition isn’t fully clear yet. I wouldn’t be able to sleep even if I went home. And besides, if I go back now, what would I even tell Tian Si?”

Besides, the truth was that the map really had been stolen by Yun Luo and Ning Huan, and Tian Ze had taken the blame entirely on himself today, ultimately to help clear Yun Luo’s name.

Cheng Ye studied Yun Xi, noting the heavy worry pooling in her eyes, and said, “You and Brother Tian must be quite close.”

Yun Xi nodded. “We are.”

She smiled faintly. “During my hardest years, Tian Si happened to be serving under me. Those were dark times for the household, and he and Wang’an came by often to help — they did a great kindness for me.”

Cheng Ye said, surprised, “That’s strange — I always heard from Wang’an that it was the Marquis’s household that did a kindness for him and Brother Tian.”

“What the household did wasn’t much,” Yun Xi said with a smile. “When Tian Si and Wang’an first came to Jinling, Tian Si wanted to become a constable at the Jingzhao Prefecture office, but none of the other officers would take him on. I let him serve under me instead. It was a small thing, really, but he’s brought it up ever since.”

“And the Young Prince?” Yun Xi asked in turn. “How did you come to know Wang’an?”

It seemed strange, really — though the Prince Nan’an household had fallen on hard times, it was still a branch of the imperial clan, while Tian Ze was a mere commoner. How had he ever become close with a prince’s heir like Cheng Ye?

“About five or six years ago, wasn’t there a drought in Huaibei?” Cheng Ye said. “I was just a captain then, sent to Huaibei to distribute relief and settle the refugees. Wang’an and Brother Tian’s hometown had been hit by the disaster, and they were among the refugees — that’s when I met them.”

“I’ll admit, you can laugh if you like — I’m a rough soldier at heart, no head for the finer points of famine relief. Luckily, Wang’an was sharp, well-read, and gave me plenty of good advice, which is why I ended up handling the whole affair rather well. That’s how I earned my place in the Privy Council’s capital office.”

Hearing Cheng Ye mention the Huaibei drought from five or six years ago, Yun Xi suddenly felt something was off — a half-formed thought stirring just beneath the surface of her mind, threatening to break through. Before she could dwell on it, Cheng Ye went on, “Wang’an’s the type who only cares for his studies — he rarely talks about himself. If I hadn’t run into you that time at the Manjusri Bodhisattva Temple, I probably still wouldn’t know how close the two of you really are.”

Hearing him mention the Manjusri Bodhisattva Temple, Yun Xi’s train of thought scattered.

That had been nearly two years ago now.

She’d just been promoted to captain and was about to head to the capital’s outskirts to help quell some unrest. Before she left, Cheng Chang had asked to meet her at the Manjusri Bodhisattva Temple. While waiting for him, she had run into Cheng Ye and Wang’an instead.

She’d made up some excuse at the time — told them she’d come to pray for a talisman of safety.

As if anyone actually went to the Manjusri Bodhisattva Temple for a safety talisman.

Cheng Ye fell quiet too.

Thinking back on it now, was there really anything left to wonder about? The reason Yun Xi had been at the Manjusri Bodhisattva Temple that day had surely been to meet the Third Young Master.

She must have already cared for Cheng Chang, even back then.

It was almost laughable — at the time, hearing she’d supposedly come for a safety talisman, he’d thought it seemed off somehow, and had later gone to the Guanyin shrine at Baiyun Temple himself to get one for her specifically.

Looking back now, it had all been wishful thinking on his part.

With that thought, Cheng Ye suddenly said, “I’ve heard Prince Cong’s household is searching for the finest matchmaker in Jinling these days. The Third Young Master… will be proposing marriage to you soon, won’t he?”

Yun Xi blinked, unsure why Cheng Ye would bring this up.

Plenty of people already knew about her and Cheng Chang, but this was still a private matter — asking about it so directly felt oddly abrupt.

Seeing she didn’t answer, Cheng Ye didn’t press further. He pulled something from his sleeve pouch and held it out to her. “This is for you.”

The moment Yun Xi saw what was in his hand, she froze.

It was a safety talisman — identical to the one Cheng Chang had given her.

Which meant this talisman, too, had come from the Guanyin shrine at Baiyun Temple.

But ever since Cheng Chang’s accident at Baiyun Temple, that particular Guanyin shrine had been sealed off, and no talismans had ever been issued there again.

Which meant this talisman of Cheng Ye’s had been obtained for her before Cheng Chang’s fall from the cliff.

Cheng Ye said, “You’re getting married — that’s wonderful news. I thought long and hard about what to give you, and nothing seemed quite right except this. I got it for you two years ago, during the Chushu festival, when I went with the imperial clan to Baiyun Temple to pray for the state.”

“Afterward, when the Third Young Master fell from the cliff, a number of people in the palace asked me why I’d also been at the Guanyin shrine that day. I never told them the truth.”

“But the truth isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”

“He went to get a safety talisman for you that day. I went too.”

Yun Xi stared at Cheng Ye, dazed, at a loss for what to say.

Cheng Ye smiled faintly. “You never knew how I felt, did you?”

Yun Xi said nothing for a long moment, then shook her head.

“Because you were simply too good — good-natured, capable. You became a captain and were promoted to general so quickly, I worried I wasn’t worthy of you, so I never dared say anything. I thought I’d catch up to you first, and only then tell you how I felt. That’s why I spent the last two years fighting campaigns north and south, without ever expecting…”

Without ever expecting it would earn him his own bright future instead.

“Honestly, thinking about it now, maybe that whole idea of ‘catching up to you’ was just an excuse I made for myself,” Cheng Ye said with an open, easy smile. “I knew all along your heart had only ever belonged to the Third Young Master, and that even if I told you how I felt, you wouldn’t accept it. So I just kept hesitating, putting it off again and again.”

Putting it off until, before it had even begun, it was already destined to fade away, unfulfilled.

“Wang’an told me that in the years after General Xuanwei’s disappearance, you held up the household on your own, and it was hard on you. It’s a shame I didn’t know you back then — I couldn’t be there for you, couldn’t help you. By the time I did meet you, the Third Young Master was already at your side. I…”

He paused, then held the talisman out toward her again. “I’m giving you this talisman — there’s no deeper meaning behind it. I just want you to know that you’re wonderful, that you’re worth being cherished, and that in this world, the Third Young Master isn’t the only one who can see it.”

Yun Xi looked at the talisman in his hand and stayed silent for a long while before finally speaking. “When I first came to know the Young Prince, I thought your temperament was very much like my brother’s — upright, brave, someone worth trusting and relying on. Over these past years, aside from Tian Si and Wang’an, I’ve had few real friends — you’re one of them. I’ll accept this talisman. But…”

She took the talisman from him, then continued, “But the Young Prince shouldn’t wait for me any longer. It’s exactly as you said — my heart belongs only to the Third Young Master. It’s not just that I’ve found him now — even if I hadn’t, I would search for him my whole life, wait for him my whole life. I… it can’t be anyone but him.”

Cheng Ye was quiet for a moment at this, looking at Yun Xi.

She really did see through everything so clearly, laying it all out plainly. If it hadn’t been for the Third Young Master’s repeated disappearances, perhaps he never would have kept rekindling this hope, over and over.

Every time he’d decided to let go, the same thought would resurface — if the Third Young Master truly wasn’t coming back, would she accept him instead?

Round and round it had gone, right up until this very moment.

It was better this way, now that she’d spoken plainly.

Now that she had, he knew — whether Cheng Chang was present or not, there was no one else she could ever settle for.

That meant he could finally cut through it all cleanly and move forward.

After all, when it came to matters of the heart, dragging things out unresolved was the cruelest thing of all.

Cheng Ye smiled and nodded. “Alright. I understand.”

He paused, his gaze catching on something behind Yun Xi. Startled, he rose and bowed. “Your Highness.”

At his words, Yun Xi turned to look and found Cheng Chang standing there — she had no idea when he’d arrived — dressed in fine brocade robes still touched with the night’s dew, standing beneath the lamplight just outside the room.