Nearby, a servant boy went off to harness the carriage.

Yun Xi didn’t want to trouble Cheng Chang further, and when he offered to see her home, she’d meant to decline—but remembering she still had duty tomorrow, and with so many matters still unresolved, the words of refusal reached her lips and were swallowed back down.

Night had fully settled in, and the carriage rattled along the road. Inside, the space was spacious and comfortable, with a lamp lit on a small table in the corner. Cheng Chang leaned against the carriage wall, eyes lowered, saying nothing.

He’d been managing everything all day—of course he was tired. But he understood full well how significant the case tied to him truly was. With only himself and Yun Xi working on it, uncovering the true culprit hiding behind it all would likely prove extremely difficult.

He also knew that Prefect Zhang of the Jingzhao Prefecture wanted to smooth things over and let the matter drop—having seen that Cheng Chang was fine after falling into the water, he’d long since closed the case, and now merely turned a blind eye to Yun Xi continuing her investigation.

By all reasonable logic, Cheng Chang felt he ought to report the attempted murder to Prince Cong and have the Court of Judicial Review open a formal investigation.

But…

For one thing, he wasn’t truly the Young Prince. If the Court of Judicial Review sent people to investigate, not only might they fail to find any lead on the true culprit, he himself might well slip up first, making it look as though the Young Prince of Prince Cong’s household was feigning ignorance and stirring up trouble at the imperial offices for no reason.

For another… he knew it sounded rather absurd, but somehow, it seemed as though the original Cheng Chang, in dying, had left behind a lingering obsession within this body.

It was as if he were telling him—going to Prince Cong would be useless, and so would going to the Court of Judicial Review. If this matter were exposed too soon, out in the open, it would only spook the enemy into hiding.

Fine, Cheng Chang thought, he’d take it one step at a time. Staying alive was what mattered most, above all else.

The carriage had traveled for a while when Yun Xi, noticing Cheng Chang’s continued silence, found a matter gradually surfacing in her mind.

She called out, “Third Young Master.”

Cheng Chang, seemingly lost in thought, his expression somewhat distant, took a moment to return to himself before responding, “Mm.”

Yun Xi said, “There’s a matter I’d like to ask the Third Young Master about, if I may be so bold.”

“About half a month ago, a physician surnamed Wu came to my household, saying he’d once treated a noble family whose lady had injured her leg, and that he was eager to find a cure, so he was offering free clinics for those with leg ailments. This Physician Wu now comes daily to give Uncle Bai acupuncture treatments. Might I ask, Third Young Master, was it you who arranged for him to come?”

Plenty of people knew about Uncle Bai’s leg ailment, but of those who had actually helped the marquis’s household recently, only the Third Young Master of Prince Cong’s household came to mind.

Cheng Chang was taken aback for a moment, then quickly nodded. “It was me.”

He said it lightly, as though it were nothing. “Earlier this month, at Lord Lin of the Ministry of Rites’s birthday celebration, his wife had injured her leg. Physician Wu went to examine her and mentioned he had a few possible treatments in mind but wasn’t sure which would work best, and wanted to try them out through a free clinic. I happened to be at the birthday banquet at the time, and mentioned your household’s Uncle Bai to him.”

Lord Lin’s wife, Madam Zhang, was a cousin of Prince Cong’s consort, and thus also Cheng Chang’s distant maternal aunt.

What Cheng Chang said wasn’t entirely fabricated out of thin air.

Earlier that month there had indeed been a birthday banquet for Undersecretary Lin of the Ministry of Rites, and Madam Zhang had indeed injured her leg at the banquet—but it had been nothing more than an ordinary sprain that would heal on its own within a few days, certainly not requiring a physician to offer experimental free treatments.

The real reason Prince Cong’s consort had condescended to attend a banquet at the household of a mere fifth-rank official, with Cheng Chang in tow, wasn’t really about the birthday celebration at all—it was mainly because the Young Prince had come of age, and having finally managed, with great difficulty, to rein in his temperament somewhat, arranging his marriage had become the pressing matter at hand. The young lady of the Lin household was gentle and lovely, and quite a suitable match.

Cheng Chang knew that Yun Xi had already guessed it was he who had arranged for the physician. If he flatly denied it, it would only make him seem as though he were flaunting the favor and putting on airs about it. Better to find an excuse and gloss over the matter.

Yun Xi said, “Thank you, Third Young Master. Uncle Bai’s leg has improved a great deal since receiving Physician Wu’s acupuncture treatments. This humble officer…” She hesitated. “This humble officer doesn’t know how to repay the Third Young Master, but rest assured, I will devote everything I have to your case.”

Cheng Chang said, unconcerned, “It’s nothing—I just happened to mention it in passing. Don’t take it to heart.”

Before long, they arrived at the marquis’s mansion. Cheng Chang lifted the carriage curtain for Yun Xi and said, “Get a good rest.” Then he sat back inside the carriage and had the servant boy drive off.

The carriage rattled further and further down the lane, reflecting a few scattered points of lamplight and moonlight, until it slowly disappeared from sight.

Yun Xi stood at the mansion gate watching it go. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the mansion door creaked open, and Fang Fulan stepped out carrying a wind lantern, asking, “A’Ting, what are you doing standing out there?” She glanced toward the mouth of the lane and added, “I thought I just heard the sound of a carriage.”

Yun Xi came back to herself. “Oh, that was the Third Young Master of Prince Cong’s household just now. I… he’s already left, I was just seeing him off.”

Hearing it was Cheng Chang, a flicker of surprise crossed Fang Fulan’s eyes—last time it had been him, and now it was him again.

But she said nothing about it, only smiling. “The man’s long gone—what are you still standing guard for?”

Without waiting for Yun Xi to answer, she added, “You’ve had a long, exhausting day and night. Come inside and rest.”

Yun Xi nodded and followed Fang Fulan back into the mansion, her mind unconsciously drifting back to the events of the day—the accomplice who had leaked news of the boatman’s confession had to be someone who had appeared at the marquis’s mansion gate that very morning.

Who exactly had been at the mansion gate that morning?

Yun Xi mentally counted them off—besides herself and Fang Fulan, there had been Tian Si, Uncle Bai, A’Ling, Zhao Wu, Fang Fulan’s maid, and two other servants—all people of the household. Beyond that, there had been the marquis’s hired coachman, Luo Shu and her maid, and, oh right, Physician Wu had also been at the mansion gate.

Who exactly could have leaked the information?

Yun Xi slowed her steps and called out softly, “Sister-in-law.”

Fang Fulan turned around.

“Is everyone in our household trustworthy?”

Fang Fulan was taken aback, unsure why Yun Xi would ask such a thing, and said gently, “Don’t you already know whether they’re trustworthy or not? Years ago, when the household could barely make ends meet, you and I let most of the servants go. Those who stayed—every single one of them has served this household for the better part of their lives. Take Uncle Bai, for instance—he’s been with the marquis’s household for forty years, longer than you and I combined.”

Seeing the deep worry etched on Yun Xi’s brow, she asked again, “A’Ting, what’s wrong? Has something happened?”

Knowing Fang Fulan wasn’t in good health, Yun Xi didn’t want her worrying, and shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

She then found an excuse. “It’s just the matter of my brother’s title inheritance—remember I mentioned wanting to find evidence a while back? It’s been almost a month now, and up north, aside from my two uncles writing back to say they’d help, there’s been no word from anyone else, including the informants Pei Lan gave me.”

“I heard His Majesty intends to settle my brother’s case by early May. I’ve grown rather anxious about it, and had thought of going to the northern frontier myself. But for one thing, I worried the household wouldn’t feel at ease with me gone, unable to properly care for you. And for another, I have a case on my hands right now that I simply can’t step away from.”

Hearing this, Fang Fulan gave a small laugh. “So that’s what it was.”

She said gently, “Your brother’s title inheritance has already been delayed several years—there’s no need to rush over it now. There’s actually something more pressing you ought to keep in mind.”

“Something more pressing?”

“Have you forgotten?” Fang Fulan said with a light laugh. “Don’t you remember, early this morning, Steward Feng from the Pei household came by to invite you to the old matriarch’s birthday celebration? Count the days—the old matriarch’s birthday is on the second of May. What day is it today?”

Today was the twenty-seventh of April—only four days remained.

Yun Xi, having been so preoccupied, only now realized the old matriarch’s birthday was fast approaching, and grew anxious. “I don’t know if there’s still time to prepare a proper birthday gift for the old matriarch.”

“You needn’t worry about that,” Fang Fulan said. “After Steward Feng went back and reported to the old matriarch today that you’d be attending, she sent him back again in the afternoon with a message for you—she specifically requested an old sword your grandfather once used, and a piece of my embroidery, as your gifts to her.”

To spare her any embarrassment, the old matriarch had even thought of the gifts for her in advance.

Fang Fulan smiled. “A’Ting, with the old matriarch thinking of you so fondly, perhaps, just as Sister Shu said, she really does intend to settle your engagement to the Second Young Master of the Pei household at the birthday banquet.”

She turned and headed toward the main room. “After I saw the physician today, I went to the pawnshop and pawned the jade bracelet the Imperial Noble Consort gave me, and used it to buy you a full set of clothes and hair ornaments. I also had Mingcui bring out the betrothal card from the old cabinet—we’ll bring it along on the day of the old matriarch’s birthday, so that when the engagement is formally settled, we won’t be caught without it if anyone asks to see the betrothal cards exchanged when you and Pei Lan were promised to each other before birth…”

Fang Fulan kept talking to herself, her tone light and cheerful.

She wasn’t usually one for so many words—today it was plain to see how happy she was for Yun Xi.

Trailing two steps behind her, Yun Xi found, strangely, that none of Fang Fulan’s joy had rubbed off on her at all. If anything, she felt a certain coldness settling over her instead.

“Sister-in-law.” She gripped the sword in her hand and said, eyes lowered, “I don’t want to marry Pei Lan.”

“Why not?” Fang Fulan turned back, startled.

Yun Xi shook her head. “I don’t know either.”

Standing there in her vermillion robes under the moonlight, she looked utterly forlorn.

But in truth, she did know why she didn’t want to marry Pei Lan. She simply didn’t know why she had said it aloud today, of all days.

As though she could no longer keep it hidden.

She had always feared worrying Fang Fulan, given her fragile health, and had always gone along with her wishes, burying so many things deep within her heart instead.

Fang Fulan, lantern in hand, stepped down the stone stairs and asked, “A’Ting, is it that you resent the Pei household for never once offering us any help over the years? Is it that you resent Pei Lan for not coming to propose marriage the moment he returned to Jinling?”

“But you must understand,” Fang Fulan said gently, “everyone has their own difficulties, and every prominent household has its own struggles that come with being prominent. Life isn’t easy for anyone in this world. Sometimes, thinking a little more of yourself, holding onto a bit more self-interest—there’s nothing wrong with that. Now that the Pei household is willing to propose marriage, it shows they intend to honor their word. Why throw away your own future out of spite?”

Yun Xi opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

She had no way to counter Fang Fulan’s words. Even though she felt that what Pei Lan held for her went beyond mere “self-interest,” she had no wish to speak further of such matters to others.

Besides, she herself felt lost and uncertain.

A thick fog had settled over her heart, and within that fog, a lantern had lit up—unconsciously, she found herself walking toward that light, drifting further and further from the person she used to be.

Fang Fulan said, “You must be tired. Go rest. Tomorrow, come to my room and try on the new clothes and ornaments, see if anything needs altering. When the old matriarch’s birthday comes, you must go looking your very best.”