Today being the old matriarch’s birthday banquet, Prince Cong, unwilling to overshadow the occasion, followed Prince Ling’s lead in waiving formal courtesies from everyone present, and led his consort and Cheng Chang to their seats.

With all the distinguished guests now present, the banquet began.

Yun Xi, as the legitimate daughter of a third-rank marquis’s household, was seated in a position of reasonable standing, next to Yao Susu and a young lady from a minister’s household, with a clear view of the old matriarch.

The dishes served were all delicacies, representing cuisines from every corner of the land. After several rounds of wine, the servants brought out a dish of sweet glutinous rice dates.

Seeing this, the old matriarch laughed. “I’m getting old—can’t handle sweets like I used to.” She then called Pei Lan over. “Lan’er, come here.”

Pei Lan rose and addressed her respectfully. “Grandmother.”

“Go on, take this dish of sweet dates over to A’Ting for grandmother.”

Pei Lan hesitated for a moment, not moving right away, glancing back in Yun Xi’s direction—though whether he was looking at Yun Xi or at Yao Susu, who sat with her eyes lowered and silent, was unclear.

The old matriarch urged him on. “What are you standing there for? You know she’s always loved sweets, don’t you?”

Pei Lan had no choice but to agree, picking up the dish of sweet glutinous rice dates and walking over to Yun Xi’s seat. “Please, enjoy.”

Yun Xi gave a soft “Mm.”

The old matriarch watched with a satisfied smile, thinking, under the brilliant lantern light, how Pei Lan’s handsome looks and Yun Xi’s captivating charm truly made them a match made in heaven.

She couldn’t help but say to Prince Ling and Prince Cong, “Forgive an old woman’s rambling, Your Highnesses, but these two children grew up together since they were young. Back then, Lan’er was quite the little troublemaker—knowing this little girl had a sweet tooth, he’d even sneak out of the army camp in the middle of the night just to buy her candied hawthorn skewers.”

Being who they were, Prince Ling and Prince Cong naturally caught the implication behind the old matriarch’s words at once, and both remarked, “General Pei is a man of deep sincerity and true feeling—this is indeed a fine thing.”

With the formalities of the banquet relaxed somewhat, and everyone now well-fed and pleasantly tipsy, guests began rising with their cups, moving about and mingling.

Prince Cong’s consort smiled and beckoned toward one side of the seating, and before long, several people came forward to offer toasts to the princely household.

Yun Xi glanced over—it was Undersecretary Lin of the Ministry of Rites and his family. Undersecretary Lin’s wife, Madam Zhang, was a cousin of Prince Cong’s consort—the very same woman whose injured leg had prompted Physician Wu’s free clinic visit to the marquis’s mansion.

Prince Cong’s consort, in high spirits, set down her wine cup and took the hand of the Lin family’s young lady—a striking beauty with brows like distant mountains and eyes like autumn waters.

The consort, growing fonder of her by the moment, turned aside and said something to Cheng Chang. Cheng Chang merely gave a nod in response, yet for some reason, the young lady’s face suddenly flushed red.

“A’Ting.”

“A’Ting?”

Someone called out to her twice in a row. Yun Xi came back to herself and saw Luo Shu standing smiling beside her table. “I ran into Susu just now on my way over, and had thought to find you both to chat together, but she didn’t seem to be in good spirits—she had her maid bring Snowball over and said she wanted to spend some time alone in the garden.”

She added, “Snowball is that cat the Imperial Noble Consort gave her, the one that supposedly can recognize beauties.”

Yun Xi nodded. “I know.”

Luo Shu glanced over toward the old matriarch’s seat and said softly, “A’Ting, congratulations.”

Yun Xi was taken aback. “Congratulations for what?”

Luo Shu let out a surprised laugh and gave her a playful nudge. “Don’t play dumb with me. Everyone knows this is supposedly the old matriarch’s birthday banquet, but really, she’s using her own birthday as an occasion to settle the matter of your engagement to Second Brother Pei once and for all. She’s even invited Prince Ling and Prince Cong to bear witness—in all the world, only an imperially bestowed golden wedding could possibly outshine this moment of yours.”

“The old matriarch has doted on you since you were little, treated you like her own granddaughter, truly unwilling to let you suffer even the slightest disadvantage…”

As Luo Shu rambled on, Yun Xi found herself somewhat distracted, her gaze unconsciously drifting back toward the young lady of the Lin household.

Prince Cong’s consort and Madam Zhang grew more and more delighted in conversation, finishing off their wine and calling for a servant to bring something stronger.

Cheng Chang and the Lin young lady sat nearby, attending to them. Cheng Chang would occasionally respond to the consort with a word or two, but the young lady’s ears had already turned so red they looked ready to bleed.

“Look at that petty, small-minded manner of hers—does she really think she can fly up and become a phoenix, marrying into the princely household as its future princess?”

“Exactly. You’d never have guessed it from how she usually carries herself—this Lin Ruonan, turning out to be someone like this. Has she gone mad wanting to be the crown princess consort? Even setting her sights on the Third Young Master?”

Unexpectedly, a lowered voice nearby reached her ears.

Yun Xi glanced over and saw it was a few young ladies from various households gathered together, gossiping about the Lin young lady.

“What crown princess consort? The Lin family is of modest standing—how could a proper princely household ever consider them worthy? If you ask me, Prince Cong’s consort is probably just eyeing the Third Young Master’s coming of age and thinking of taking her in as a secondary consort, that’s all.”

“What secondary consort—if he’s to marry, the primary wife comes first,” someone more knowledgeable interjected. “It’s precisely because Prince Cong’s household stands so high, being genuine imperial in-laws, that once the Third Young Master is made heir apparent, his primary wife absolutely cannot come from too illustrious a background.”

“Someone like the Lin household fits just right.”

The group of young ladies all fell silent for a moment.

Those who understood said nothing further; a few who hadn’t quite grasped it pressed eagerly for more explanation.

Yun Xi’s gaze drifted back to Cheng Chang.

Just then, one of the princely household’s retainers approached and whispered something into Cheng Chang’s ear.

Upon hearing it, Cheng Chang nodded and followed the retainer toward the waterside pavilion to the west.

He had barely left when the servant who’d been refilling wine for Prince Cong’s consort and Madam Zhang approached their table. He set down a fresh wine pot and began collecting the empty cups onto his tray.

For some reason, this servant collecting the cups seemed somewhat agitated. As he lifted the tray to leave, he turned and collided squarely with a servant boy.

His movements were remarkably steady—though he staggered slightly, the cups on the tray didn’t so much as shift, and he even reached out to steady the servant boy he’d bumped into.

It was in that very moment, as he extended his hand, that Yun Xi froze.

For she saw it—on the palm of that servant’s right hand, a thick, deep scar from a blade.

The boatman who had come to confess at the Jingzhao Prefecture had said that the man in black who’d given him the gold bars and told him to harm the Third Young Master had exactly such a scar on his right palm.

The boatman had even gestured to describe it: “This long, this deep, as if someone had nearly sliced his right hand clean in half with a knife, and it had later been stitched back together.”

This servant’s palm scar matched the boatman’s description exactly!

Having bumped into the servant boy, the man moved to a corner, and seeming to notice no one was watching him, quickly hurried off in the direction Cheng Chang had gone.

“A’Ting?” Luo Shu called out to her again. “What’s the matter with you today? You keep zoning out.” She covered her mouth and laughed. “In a little while, the old matriarch is going to set the date for you and Second Brother Pei—you’d better not—”

Before she could finish, Yun Xi tossed out, “I have urgent business,” and hurried away.

Cheng Chang followed the retainer toward the waterside pavilion, growing increasingly uneasy the further they went.

Just moments ago, there had been a few guests scattered around, but now the area had gradually emptied out entirely.

On either side of the pavilion, the lake water shimmered. Further ahead, past a footbridge, lay a dense bamboo grove.

Cheng Chang’s instincts sharpened at once.

This retainer before him had served the princely household for thirty years, utterly loyal, and had long enjoyed Prince Cong’s deep trust—by all rights, there should be nothing wrong here.

Surely he wasn’t unlucky enough to have run into one of those legendary sleeper agents, used once in a lifetime and discarded afterward?

Cheng Chang stopped walking and asked, “You said my father is looking for me—where is he?”

“Reporting to the Young Prince, His Highness is waiting for you at the Small Bamboo Pavilion,” the retainer replied, then added with an ingratiating smile, “The Third Young Master must be a bit tipsy and has forgotten the way around the Pei residence. Just cross the footbridge ahead and through the bamboo grove, and you’ll reach the Small Bamboo Pavilion.”

Prince Cong suffered from chronic headaches and rarely lasted long in crowded, lively settings, preferring to retreat to somewhere quiet after a few rounds of wine.

This was one of Prince Cong’s habits, and Cheng Chang knew it well.

But…

Operating on the principle of caution above all, survival first, Cheng Chang said, “Go tell my father I won’t be coming. If there’s anything important, we’ll discuss it back at the mansion.”

With that, he turned to head back.

The retainer behind him said nothing. After walking a few steps, Cheng Chang gradually sensed something was wrong.

The night had been utterly silent, but gradually, the sound of water stirring began to rise all around him.

The sound of water grew louder and louder. Cheng Chang glanced to the side and saw ripples spreading across the water on both sides of the long corridor. Four masked figures in black emerged from beneath the surface, swords strapped to their backs, gripping the railing on one side and beginning to climb up onto the corridor.

Cheng Chang froze for a moment.

In his past life, he’d undergone heart bypass surgery, had a pacemaker installed, pushed himself to the brink for his thesis and work projects, pulled all-nighters back to back, even ended up in the ICU once over a relationship—he’d faced his share of life-and-death moments, walked the razor’s edge more than once. But… when had he ever faced anything like this?!

What should he do?

Cheng Chang thought.

What else could he do… run, obviously!

In a split second, Cheng Chang broke into a sprint, but it was already too late. One of the men in black had already leapt onto the corridor, raising his blade and swinging straight at him. Cheng Chang ducked his head to the side, narrowly dodging, and was about to keep running when another blade came slicing toward him from the front.

A bone-chilling cold swept across his face. Cheng Chang thought, this is it, then thought again, so what was the point of transmigrating here for over two months?

Just to die all over again?

Before that chill could reach his throat, someone suddenly yanked his arm, and Cheng Chang stumbled backward two steps, narrowly avoiding the blow.

He glanced to the side to see a servant, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, pull him back and step forward to engage all four men in black at once.

Though this servant’s martial skill was impressive, he was fighting bare-handed against armed opponents, and before long, he began to fall behind. Left with no choice, he called out to Cheng Chang, “Go, quickly!”

Of course Cheng Chang knew he should run, but the path ahead of him was already blocked.

It was the retainer who had led him here.

The retainer said, “Young Prince, forgive me.”

He flipped his hand, drawing a short blade from his sleeve pouch, and thrust it straight at Cheng Chang.

His movements were incredibly fast, even faster than the four masked assassins. Cheng Chang saw only a flash of cold light before his eyes, the blade already at his throat.

At that very moment, someone called out beside him, “Third Young Master, watch out!”

A hand reached out from the side, knocking the short blade off course with bare fingers.

It was Yun Xi, having arrived just in time.

The blade’s edge grazed past Cheng Chang’s ear. The retainer’s reflexes were just as swift—failing his first strike, he swung the blade sideways, slashing a bloody gash across Yun Xi’s palm.

Blood poured freely from the wound, but Yun Xi seemed entirely unaffected by the pain. Following through with the retainer’s own motion, she pulled his wrist forward, pinning it, then twisted sharply, and the short blade instantly dropped from his grip.

This was a technique that wounded the enemy at great cost to oneself as well.

Seeing things turn against him, the retainer moved to snatch the blade back, but Yun Xi was faster—hooking her heel upward, she sent the still-falling blade spinning back into the air. With her right hand still locked in combat with the retainer, she freed her left hand to snatch it out of the air, and in an instant, returned the strike against him.

This was a skill she had learned from her father since childhood, trained in martial arts from a young age.

On the battlefield, it was a fight for survival—if your right hand was wounded, you used your left; if both hands were gone, there were still your legs. One couldn’t fear pain, couldn’t fear death—every inch you gained forced your enemy back an inch in turn.

The retainer clutched his wounded right shoulder, looking Yun Xi up and down.

He truly hadn’t expected that the young lady before him, clearly from a noble household, would prove this formidable.

The Young Prince had no martial skill of his own, and five against two might not have guaranteed victory even so, but… the retainer’s ears twitched slightly. Though this spot was secluded, it wouldn’t remain empty of people forever, and with all the commotion they’d made, someone would surely arrive soon.

Thinking this, he muttered under his breath, “Retreat!”

At his word, the four men in black immediately abandoned their fight with the scarred-palmed servant, and together with the retainer, leapt over the railing and vanished into the water.

Seeing them flee, the servant with the scarred palm was about to step forward to say something to Cheng Chang, but noticing several people approaching from the far end of the waterside pavilion, he hesitated for a moment before slipping away into the dense bamboo grove.

Yun Xi had meant to give chase, but Cheng Chang stopped her, saying, “No need to chase him. If he’s truly on our side, he’ll come find us again.”

Yun Xi thought it over for a moment, and understood the meaning behind Cheng Chang’s words—

This man had originally been sent by the true culprit to harm the Third Young Master, and yet had now turned around to help him instead. Most likely, seeing that the boatman had come forward to confess, the true culprit feared he might reveal this man’s identity, and wanted him silenced as well—which was why he had come seeking Cheng Chang’s protection instead.

Yun Xi’s racing heart settled somewhat, and she turned to look at Cheng Chang, unable to help asking with concern, “Third Young Master, are you all right?”