Yun Xi watched as Cheng Chang’s figure disappeared into the curtain of rain at the palace gates.

The umbrella he’d left with her sat before her. She knelt quietly for a while longer without using it, instead carefully folding it closed and setting it beside her.

The rain fell in fits and starts, sometimes heavy, sometimes light, until finally, after what felt like an eternity, it began to thin.

The clouds at the horizon parted, and sunlight poured down from above.

Morning court had likely ended by now; officials heading out to attend to their duties passed back and forth before the palace gates.

Yun Xi remained kneeling upright, her eyes fixed on the palace gates. She was still waiting, though this waiting felt different from the pouring rain of midnight—because now, her heart held a flicker of hope.

Cheng Chang emerged just as the rain finally stopped completely.

He walked up to her and said, “You can get up now.”

Yun Xi stared at him, dazed.

He continued, “Your brother’s case hasn’t been cleared yet, but at least I managed to secure a new, thorough investigation.”

Yun Xi froze for a moment, as though someone drowning had suddenly found a breath of life-sustaining air from beneath the water, afraid to breathe too eagerly, afraid it might not last until she could surface fully.

After a moment, she asked cautiously, “Truly?”

Cheng Chang nodded, offering the faintest of smiles. “Truly.”

Bathed in the fresh summer light of a sky newly cleared after rain, his smile, however faint, was utterly captivating.

Yun Xi suddenly found she couldn’t bring herself to look at him directly. She lowered her eyes, lifted her sleeve to wipe away the remaining raindrops on her cheek, and pushed herself up off the ground to stand. She wanted to thank him, but felt the word “thanks” was far too light for the occasion. She hesitated, unsure what else to say.

At that moment, the small side gate to the right of the palace entrance opened slightly, and two eunuchs emerged, one following the other.

The elder of the two, carrying a horsetail whisk, was the Emperor’s personal secretary-attendant, surnamed Wu; the younger one trailing behind him was likely his assistant.

As they drew closer, Eunuch Wu bowed first to Cheng Chang, addressing him. “Third Young Master.”

His gaze then fell on Yun Xi, and he said with a smile, “This must be the eldest daughter of the House of Zhongyong, Miss Yun Xi, I presume?”

Yun Xi nodded. “What guidance do you bring, Honored Attendant?”

Eunuch Wu said, “Guidance would be too grand a word. His Majesty simply sent this humble servant to relay a message—the decree ordering a thorough reinvestigation of General Yun’s case has already been sent to the Court of Judicial Review.”

Cheng Chang had already mentioned this.

But Yun Xi, upon hearing it confirmed, still bowed respectfully. “Please convey this humble servant’s deepest gratitude to His Majesty, and my thanks for your trouble as well, Honored Attendant.”

Eunuch Wu replied kindly, “This humble servant merely serves at His Majesty’s pleasure—hardly worth calling trouble. But Miss Yun Xi, you’ve been to the palace before, haven’t you? It’s truly a shame those useless dogs stationed at the gate failed to recognize you, leaving you kneeling here for half the day for nothing. You should hurry back to rest now, before you do yourself harm.”

Having delivered his message and extended his courtesy, he tucked the whisk into the crook of his arm, bid farewell to Cheng Chang and Yun Xi, and returned through the palace gate.

Once through the small side gate, the young eunuch trailing behind Eunuch Wu couldn’t contain his confusion. “Master, this morning when that young lady from the Marquis’s household first came to kneel at the palace gates, you said not to bother with her—so why, why now, has she suddenly become so…”

So attentively treated?

“Foolish creature,” Eunuch Wu said, flicking his whisk and giving him a sidelong glance. “Have you learned nothing from everything I’ve taught you over the years?”

He continued instructing, “Think back to how His Majesty spoke of General Yun’s case just now in the throne hall, how he spoke of the Yun family of Zhongyong.”

The young eunuch paused, trying to recall carefully.

In truth, Emperor Zhaoyuan had said very little during this morning’s court session.

Even when the young lord of Prince Cong’s household had presented Yun Luo’s urgent dispatch before the throne, declaring General Yun innocent, His Majesty had said nothing at all.

At the time, the entire assembled court had held its breath, fully expecting that the young lord’s usual troublemaking had finally, truly crossed a line with Emperor Zhaoyuan, bracing themselves for the Emperor’s fury.

Yet Emperor Zhaoyuan had simply sat silently on the throne for a moment, then waved a hand, gesturing for Eunuch Wu to bring the dispatch forward for his own inspection.

He read through the letter in complete silence, then asked flatly, “How did such an important piece of evidence come to be lost?”

At that moment, the Minister of Justice’s legs had already begun trembling.

Fortunately, Cheng Chang, remembering Prince Cong’s warning not to wade into troubled waters, took care not to offend anyone, saying, “Reporting to Your Majesty, this letter fell into enemy hands early on, and was only recently recovered. It was rushed to the capital with all haste, but by the time it arrived, the Court of Judicial Review’s file had already been submitted to Your Majesty, hence the delay.”

Emperor Zhaoyuan gave a small “Mm” and turned to Pei Lan. “Is this true?”

Pei Lan said, “Reporting to Your Majesty, what the Third Young Master says is accurate. In truth, this humble servant had mentioned the matter of the dispatch to the Court of Judicial Review earlier, but without solid evidence in hand, it seemed nothing more than empty claim, and with the Court’s case nearing conclusion, they could hardly delay proceedings indefinitely over an unconfirmed dispatch. In truth, this failure is this humble servant’s own fault—had I exerted myself more diligently and located the dispatch sooner, the Court’s ruling would not have been delayed like this.”

Emperor Zhaoyuan replied evenly, “This has nothing to do with you.”

Seeing that both Cheng Chang and Pei Lan had already left him an escape route, the Minister of Justice seized the opportunity and stepped forward to take the blame himself. “Reporting to Your Majesty, this matter is truly not General Pei’s fault. It was this humble servant’s own impatience, eager to close the case without delay, unwilling to wait even a single additional day—this is what led to the flawed ruling.”

He then asked for guidance. “However… the decree convicting General Yun has already been sent to the Marquis’s residence. Now that new, significant evidence has suddenly come to light, how should we proceed? I beg Your Majesty’s instruction.”

An imperial decree already issued couldn’t simply be recalled, after all.

Emperor Zhaoyuan’s gaze remained fixed on the urgent dispatch. He seemed to read through Yun Luo’s letter once more, then said slowly, after a long pause, “If a decree already sent cannot be recalled, then issue another one. State that new evidence has come to light, and a full reinvestigation is warranted.”

He sighed, setting down the dispatch. “It is never too late to mend the fold after the sheep has strayed.”

At these words—”mend the fold after the sheep has strayed”—every minister present felt a jolt of realization.

Though none of them fully understood why Emperor Zhaoyuan had suddenly shown such leniency toward the House of Zhongyong, everyone grasped one thing clearly: the knot that had lodged in His Majesty’s chest for years—the old Marquis’s sacrifice, the Crown Prince’s death, Zhaoyuan’s betrayal—was, inch by inch, finally beginning to loosen.

A sovereign who had achieved countless accomplishments in his lifetime, now aging, had made mistakes, yet had not lost his clarity of mind.

Which was why he’d spoken of mending the fold after the sheep had strayed.

Emperor Zhaoyuan turned his gaze to Cheng Chang and asked, “How did you come to obtain this evidence?”

Cheng Chang said, “Reporting to Your Majesty, early this morning, the young lady of the Marquis of Zhongyong’s household was kneeling before the palace gates, seeking justice for General Yun. This humble servant happened to pass by and asked her about it, and she showed me the dispatch. As an imperial censor, I thought I might be able to offer some remonstrance on her behalf, and so I interrupted the court proceedings.”

Hearing this, Emperor Zhaoyuan nodded. “Yun Shuguang’s daughter. She visited the palace as a child—I remember her.”

His expression turned cold. “Wasn’t it said earlier that the person kneeling at the palace gates this morning was merely some troublemaking constable causing a scene?”

Someone from the Ministry of Personnel quickly stepped forward to explain. “Reporting to Your Majesty, it was raining this morning, and none of the officials got a clear look. Moreover, Miss Yun Xi was dressed in the vermilion uniform of a constable, currently serving at the Capital Prefecture Office, which led to the misunderstanding that she was merely an ordinary constable.”

Emperor Zhaoyuan gave a low “Hm,” then summoned his attendant, handing Yun Luo’s dispatch to the Minister of Justice, and instructed the Secretary of the Central Secretariat to draft a new decree.

As court was dismissed, he remarked, almost offhandedly, “The Marquis of Zhongyong’s daughter, serving as a constable—what a waste of talent.”

By then, half the assembled officials had already exited the hall, while the other half still lingered within.

Watching the Emperor’s unhurried departure, not a single person present could quite guess what he was truly thinking.

The young eunuch, carefully recalling the Emperor’s words from that morning’s court session, suddenly seemed to understand. “Master, are you saying that we, as servants, ought to act according to His Majesty’s wishes? Just as before, when the House of Zhongyong was a thorn in His Majesty’s side, we paid the family no mind—but now that His Majesty has decided to resolve that old grievance, we should show the family some measure of favor when we encounter them?”

“Foolish creature,” Eunuch Wu said, flicking his whisk against the boy once more. “The Emperor’s true intentions are impossible to fathom—do you truly think someone as lowly as yourself could ever hope to divine his innermost thoughts?”

He extended a hand, letting the passing breeze brush across his palm.

“You see, there’s always wind blowing through this palace. People like us can never truly put down roots anywhere—we can only follow wherever the wind carries us.”

……

Not long after Eunuch Wu departed, officials from the Court of Judicial Review arrived and read aloud to Yun Xi the new decree ordering a full reinvestigation into Yun Luo’s case.

Even after receiving the decree, Yun Xi still couldn’t quite believe it, reading it over and over several times.

Slowly, the heavy stone weighing on her heart finally lifted.

The wind at the palace gates grew stronger, stirring the shifting shadows of daylight. She looked up at Cheng Chang and said with a smile, “I truly must thank you, Third Young Master, for this!”

The burden on her shoulders had always been heavy, and she rarely smiled in her daily life. Even moments ago, her face had still carried traces of worry—but now, suddenly breaking into a smile, Cheng Chang found himself momentarily stunned.

Her smile was so utterly genuine, as though she were simply happy for the sake of the matter itself, radiant and dazzling in its simplicity.

Cheng Chang said, “It’s nothing. In truth, it didn’t take much effort on my part—once I presented the dispatch and explained the situation, His Majesty naturally ordered a full reinvestigation on his own.”

He looked at Yun Xi again. She hadn’t slept all night, had knelt for the better part of a day, and her complexion looked rather poor now. The bandage on her palm had come half undone, streaked with blood—likely she hadn’t had time to change the dressing amid last night’s chaos.

Cheng Chang asked, “How will you get back?”

He added, “Shall I take you home?”

The question came out naturally enough, but hearing it seemed to snap Yun Xi back to her senses.

She paused, and couldn’t help but look herself over—soaked by rain, her clothes only half-dried, damp strands of hair clinging to her cheeks, the ponytail at the back of her head surely disheveled by now, and her boots, caked with mud, leaving muddy footprints with every step she took.

She suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment.

How could she possibly stand before him looking so disheveled?

Cradling her father’s and brother’s ancestral tablets, along with the imperial decree, she lowered her eyes and said quietly, “No, there’s no need. The Marquis’s residence isn’t far. I’ll walk back myself.”

Seeing her decline, and considering that the House of Zhongyong wasn’t far from the palace after all, Cheng Chang nodded in agreement.

Just before boarding his carriage, he glanced at her right hand once more and reminded her, “Remember to change the dressing.”

Yun Xi watched Cheng Chang’s carriage disappear into the distance, standing rooted to the spot for a long while, until it was no longer visible at all, before finally turning and heading back toward the residence.