Fang Fulan wasn’t fond of cats and dogs, so once Yun Xi brought Filthy home, she kept it in her own courtyard.
The palm-sized pup changed visibly by the day. When it first arrived, it could barely walk without stumbling, tumbling over several times just crossing from the courtyard gate to Yun Xi’s room.
Yun Xi had initially worried she wouldn’t be able to raise it properly, but half a month later, with Filthy sustained morning and evening by two bowls of goat’s milk courtesy of the Third Young Master and the young heir, the pup grew sturdier by the day.
Once, when Tian Si came to visit Yun Xi and saw Filthy drinking its milk, he exclaimed, “This—this little pup eats better than people do!”
Looking at the fresh goat’s milk in Filthy’s bowl, Yun Xi herself felt a twinge of unease at accepting it.
Initially, worried the frail pup might not survive otherwise, she’d accepted the milk when Cheng Chang and Cheng Ye first sent it over.
But now that Filthy was thriving, and with Uncle Bai’s leg much improved and A’Ling earning extra income through sewing work, Yun Xi found she could spare a little silver each month—enough to buy a bowl of goat’s milk every three days, supplemented with rice porridge, and still raise Filthy perfectly well on her own.
With this in mind, she sent Zhao Wu the very next morning to formally decline further gifts from Prince Cong’s and Prince Nan’an’s households.
Zhao Wu returned that same afternoon, relaying the message: “The young heir says Filthy was born at the Nan’an residence, and since you saved his life that day, Miss, the Nan’an household ought to take responsibility for him.”
“The Third Young Master says he originally intended to raise Filthy himself, but worried his household attendants couldn’t be trusted to manage him properly, so he passed the trouble on to you, Miss, and feels guilty about it. He’s also concerned about Filthy’s wellbeing and would rather continue until the pup is weaned in another three months.”
Both messages were graciously worded, and they’d also sent back a hollow wooden ball and a basin of softened, mashed bone and meat, all intended for Filthy.
Yun Xi had no choice but to accept, and asked, “Did the Third Young Master or the young heir say anything else?”
Zhao Wu thought for a moment. “Yes. Both the Third Young Master and the young heir said they’d like to visit sometime to see Filthy.”
Filthy, sprawled belly-up in the sunlight nearby, seemed to understand this and let out two happy yips.
He’d clearly gone off somewhere and gotten himself covered in mud again. Yun Xi glanced at him, worried that if Cheng Chang and Cheng Ye came by and saw him in such a filthy state, they might think she hadn’t been taking proper care of him. “All right,” she said, “let me give him a bath first.”
But Cheng Chang and Cheng Ye did not come to visit for some time.
This was hardly surprising.
As early July arrived and the Autumn Festival approached, His Majesty prepared for his imperial procession, and both the Ministry of Rites and the imperial relatives were assigned various duties, all kept exceedingly busy.
Moreover, His Majesty’s mood had grown increasingly foul of late.
The unrest among bandits in the capital’s outskirts had still not been quelled. After reprimanding Yao Hangshan, His Majesty had ordered a fourth-rank general to lead troops to suppress it.
Unexpectedly, these roving bandits had colluded with local mountain brigands. Whenever troops arrived, they vanished into the mountains without a trace, only to emerge again and cause trouble once the soldiers withdrew.
Ordinarily, officials and bandits each kept to their own paths—as long as the brigands didn’t overstep too far, local authorities in peaceful times would typically turn a blind eye.
But this time, for whatever reason, these bandits seemed determined to openly defy the court once the roving outlaws arrived.
With the Autumn Festival fast approaching and the unrest occurring a mere seventy or eighty li from Jinling, local authorities, fearing the bandits might grow bold enough to disturb the Emperor himself, cooperated closely with the court’s dispatched general and managed to capture one of the bandit chiefs.
His Majesty handed the chief over to Prince Yun, ordering him to extract a confession within three days.
Prince Yun oversaw the Court of Judicial Review.
He had the bandit chief interrogated in the court’s prison for three full days, but the man proved stubbornly unyielding. In the end, he spat out a mouthful of blood and, holding up his little finger, declared, “There are seven leaders among our mountain strongholds, and I’m merely the smallest of them. You think capturing my nest means you’ve caught us all? Not even close. Without someone to guide you, you’ll never find my brothers—not in a hundred years!”
The next day, the Minister of Justice accompanied Prince Yun into the palace, trembling as he presented the bandit chief’s confession before the Emperor.
Upon reading it, His Majesty flew into a rage, immediately dismissing the Minister of Justice on the spot, then ordering Prince Yun to kneel in the imperial study for an entire day as punishment.
He simply couldn’t understand why such a seemingly straightforward task had proven impossible for anyone to accomplish.
As it happened, Prince Ling came to the palace for an audience that day, and seeing Prince Yun kneeling nearby, spoke a few words on his brother’s behalf, in the spirit of brotherly harmony.
This only reignited His Majesty’s already simmering fury, and he turned his anger on Prince Ling as well, finally declaring, “You want to plead the Fourth Prince’s case, do you? Very well—the two of you can kneel together.”
Prince Ling was gentle and courteous by nature, and though Prince Yun was somewhat carefree in temperament, he still conducted himself properly before the Emperor. Both princes were, on the whole, decent in character, and their relationship, at least on the surface, remained cordial rather than hostile.
What went on privately was another matter, of course—with the position of Crown Prince still vacant, some degree of quiet rivalry was surely inevitable.
This time, however, the two princes had genuinely shared in hardship together, kneeling for an entire day without so much as a cushion beneath them. By the time they left the palace the next day, they could barely walk.
If even the imperial princes suffered such consequences, those beneath them were even more on edge.
This year’s Autumn Festival, meant to be a joyous occasion, had instead thrown every government office into anxious disarray over the ongoing bandit unrest, with growing fears that these reckless outlaws might attempt to infiltrate Jinling on the festival day itself and cause chaos before the imperial procession. Inspections intensified, security measures tightened.
Cheng Chang, as a city inspector, and Cheng Ye, as a commander at the capital bureau, were both imperial relatives with heavy duties of their own, leaving neither any leisure to visit the Marquis’s residence to see Filthy.
Days passed steadily onward regardless.
Amid the anxious unease of court officials and the eager anticipation of the common people, the Autumn Festival finally arrived.
That morning, Fang Fulan hung a portrait of the Harvest God Rushou at the residence gate and decorated it with stalks of rice.
Yun Xi, having finished her midday meal at home, planned to head out early to accompany Fang Fulan on a stroll through the streets.
She was scheduled for night duty that evening. Earlier, Cheng Chang had told her the attendant with the scarred palm would come to see him on the day of the Autumn Festival, bringing clues about the true culprit. Worried he might be tied up accompanying the imperial procession, he’d asked Yun Xi to keep watch on his behalf.
Yun Xi had agreed, and had specially arranged with Zhang Huailu to switch her patrol assignment to the street where Cheng Chang would be accompanying the Emperor.
Ever since the Court of Judicial Review had reopened Yun Luo’s case, Zhang Huailu no longer treated Yun Xi with his former harshness. He readily agreed to this small request, adding kindly, “On a grand occasion like the Autumn Festival, Jinling has its own patrol bureau and capital guards watching over things—it’s not really our office’s responsibility. As a constable, just think of it as enjoying the festival yourself, take a stroll through the streets. Come back to rest whenever you’re tired—no need to wait until dawn.”
Just as Zhao Wu finished hitching up the carriage and they were about to leave the residence, another visitor arrived.
It was Luo Shu.
She said with a smile, “I overslept this morning and had to rush over—nearly came too late and kept you and Sister Fulan waiting.”
From her words, it seemed she’d made prior arrangements with Fang Fulan.
Fang Fulan said gently, “I heard about what’s been happening with you recently, and thought you must be exhausted these past few days. I’d actually thought of sending Mingcui to your residence to tell you not to trouble yourself coming here specially, but I worried you might think I was being overly considerate.”
“What are you saying, Sister Fulan?” Luo Shu smiled, looping her arm through Fang Fulan’s. “It’s rare enough that you get to leave the residence for the festival—how could I not accompany you? Besides…”
She paused, her cheeks reddening slightly. “I’ve been so troubled by that whole matter lately, my thoughts all in disarray. I wanted to come talk to you about it, too.”
She didn’t specify what “that matter” was, but Yun Xi understood perfectly well.
Two months had passed since Yun Xi broke off her engagement, and the rumors had largely died down. The Pei and Luo families no longer kept things hidden—though no date had been set yet, the betrothal between Luo Shu and Pei Lan had already been openly discussed.
The Pei family was distinguished and prestigious, and with Pei Lan now a General, marrying him would be a genuine rise in status for Luo Shu.
Fearing this excellent match might slip away before it was finalized, the Luo family had already begun quietly preparing a dowry, even though the Pei family had not yet formally proposed.
Luo Shu seemed to genuinely have much on her mind to unburden. No sooner had they boarded the carriage than she launched eagerly into conversation with Fang Fulan, sharing the sort of bashful worries typical among young women discussing romance. Yun Xi listened quietly beside them without joining in.
In truth, she remained wary of Luo Shu, having still found no proof one way or another as to whether she was the one who had twice leaked information to the true culprit.
And since Fang Fulan wished to maintain her friendship with Luo Shu, Yun Xi had no grounds to object—she could hardly tell Fang Fulan outright that Luo Shu might not be as simple as she appeared.
What reason could she possibly give?
She had no choice but to accompany them both, resolving to wait until dusk, once the lanterns were lit, before heading to her post.
Great Sui revered lanterns, believing that bright lamps, like scattered stars, could carry prayers up to the heavens and down to the earth for the gods’ blessing.
On the day of the Autumn Festival, the banks of the Qinhuai River were adorned with festive decorations, awaiting only dusk, when the imperial procession would emerge from the palace and every lantern would be lit at once.
Yun Xi accompanied Fang Fulan and Luo Shu around the streets for a while. Along the way, they encountered many noble ladies who, like themselves, had ventured out early. As chance would have it, upon reaching a quiet, secluded spot, they spotted Yao Susu in the distance.
Yun Xi’s relationship with Yao Susu was strained, and having no wish to run into her directly, she paused where she stood, waiting for Yao Susu to leave first.
Unexpectedly, Yao Susu appeared oddly guilty, glancing around anxiously before, seeing no one paying attention, handing Snowball to the maidservant beside her and lifting her skirts to slip into a nearby Daoist temple.
Great Sui had always favored Buddhism over Daoism, and today was the Autumn Festival, when people typically prayed to the Harvest God Rushou—why would anyone go to a Daoist temple for no apparent reason?
Seeing Yao Susu’s suspicious behavior, Yun Xi’s curiosity was piqued, but having no wish to meddle in her affairs, she simply said to Fang Fulan, “Let’s go.”
Fang Fulan agreed, but Luo Shu remained rooted to the spot, staring vacantly toward the direction of the temple.
Fang Fulan called out, “Sister Shu?”
After a long moment, Luo Shu seemed to snap back to herself, forcing a smile. “What is it?”
Yun Xi said, “It’s nearly the hour of you. Sister still needs to take her evening medicine—I should take her to the pharmacy.”
The pharmacy Fang Fulan regularly visited wasn’t far, and they arrived within about half the time it takes an incense stick to burn. While the physician went to prepare the medicine, Luo Shu remained visibly restless. Both Fang Fulan and Yun Xi suspected her unease was connected to their earlier encounter with Yao Susu, but neither knew how to broach the subject.
After all, whatever concerned Yao Susu likely concerned Pei Lan as well.
After sitting for a while, Luo Shu suddenly rose and said to Fang Fulan and Yun Xi, “Sister Fulan, A’Ting, I can’t stand the smell of medicine in here—it’s making my chest feel tight. I’m going to step outside for a walk. I’ll be back shortly.”
With that, she left the shop alone, without even bringing her maidservant.
Fang Fulan glanced at Yun Xi and said, “Go with her and keep an eye on things. I’m genuinely worried about her.”
Yun Xi had already intended to do exactly that, and immediately agreed, taking up her sword and following after Luo Shu.
She didn’t catch up to her directly, instead trailing several steps behind, unnoticed.
Luo Shu, seemingly unaware anyone was following her, hurried toward the Daoist temple from earlier, pressing a hand briefly to her chest, taking a steadying breath, before entering.
The temple grounds were quiet and secluded, growing emptier the further one walked in.
Following Luo Shu, Yun Xi suddenly saw her stop before a crescent-moon-shaped doorway. From within, the faint sound of sobbing drifted out.
Luo Shu stared fixedly at the doorway, her hands clenched tighter and tighter at her sides, nails digging into her palms. From where Yun Xi stood, most of the color had drained from Luo Shu’s face, and her entire body seemed to be trembling faintly.
Suspicious, Yun Xi shifted position to get a better view through the crescent doorway.
Her eyesight was exceptionally sharp, and what she saw made her freeze as well.
Within the flower garden beyond the door stood two figures—one was Yao Susu, whom they’d just seen; the other was Pei Lan.
They seemed to be discussing something. Yao Susu picked up a handkerchief to wipe away tears, and Pei Lan, seemingly moved by her distress, gently took the handkerchief from her and wiped the tear stains from her face himself.
They stood remarkably close, one comforting the other with a tenderness so evident that even an outside observer could sense it. Then, as though moved by sudden feeling—whose exactly, it was hard to say—Pei Lan leaned down and pressed a kiss to Yao Susu’s cheek.
“…”
Yun Xi found herself at a complete loss for words.
Had she not already harbored doubts about Luo Shu, she would have simply turned and walked away.
Outside the crescent doorway, Luo Shu trembled even more violently, her entire body like a withered leaf caught in the wind, wilting and lifeless.
Yun Xi realized that simply standing by and watching would accomplish nothing, and given how clear the situation now was, it seemed best to get Luo Shu away from here first. If this scandal erupted openly, the consequences could be difficult to contain.
She had no intention of taking Luo Shu’s side, nor did she particularly care about Yao Susu’s or Pei Lan’s feelings in this. She simply remembered that the Dowager Matriarch, still recovering from her earlier fury, could not afford another shock right now.
Just as Yun Xi was about to step forward, Luo Shu suddenly turned, her gaze locking directly onto hers.
Yun Xi had never seen Luo Shu look this way before.
That gaze held nothing but malice, resentment, and heartbreak, laid utterly bare.
It bore not the slightest resemblance to her usual smiling demeanor.
Yun Xi opened her mouth but found no words to say. Luo Shu, too, seemed startled for a moment, then, after a pause, composed her expression and walked quickly to Yun Xi’s side, saying, “Let’s go.”
Yun Xi couldn’t help but ask, “Are you all right?”
Luo Shu lowered her eyes and gave a soft, hollow laugh. “I’m fine.”
“I can’t afford not to be fine.” After a moment’s pause, she continued, “He… he never liked me. As children, he liked you. Now that we’re grown, he likes Susu.”
As though struggling to suppress the anger and grief welling up inside her, she said hoarsely, “I can’t make a scene over this. I can’t. If it comes out into the open, he’ll… he won’t want me anymore.”