Deep autumn fog hung thick over Baiyun Mountain. Walking north from the cliff’s base, the air grew colder and colder the farther one went.

By late September, two months had passed since the third young master of Prince Cong’s household had gone missing. The imperial guards had searched every corner within several hundred li of Jinling, and still no trace of him could be found.

The news could no longer be kept from the Grand Empress Dowager, who had wept in devastating grief not long before. Yesterday, someone from the Ministry of Rites had dared to sound out Emperor Zhaoyuan’s thinking — from what they gathered, if he still hadn’t been found by the start of winter, Prince Cong’s household would have to begin arranging a funeral.

It made sense, in a way. When a search had gone on this long, with every human effort exhausted, all that remained was to leave it to fate.

These past few days, several units of imperial guards who had gone as far as the area near Huai’an in search had gradually been recalled, since the Grand Empress Dowager’s birthday was approaching, and the filial Emperor, thinking that once Prince Cong’s household had finished with the funeral, he could properly celebrate his grandmother’s birthday and bring her some joy.

Around Baiyun Mountain, aside from one unit of imperial guards left to maintain watch, only Yun Xi’s own party continued the search, working their way from the cliff outside Qingfeng Court eastward, all the way to a fishing village on the eastern coast.

That morning, before dawn, Cheng Ye arrived at the city gate with a few men.

The guards at the gate, seeing him, stepped forward and bowed. “General.”

Cheng Ye said, “I’m heading out of the city — should be back in about seven or eight days. These next few days, the Western Regions dancers coming for the Grand Empress Dowager’s birthday celebration will be entering the capital. Stay sharp — make sure no bandits slip in among the envoy’s procession.”

The guard answered, “Yes, General. Rest assured.”

Cheng Ye had originally held the rank of commandant. On the night of the Mid-Autumn bandit disturbance, the heads of the Capital Office and the Patrol Bureau had both been dismissed for their negligence, leaving both offices without leadership. The Emperor had then assigned Cheng Ye to oversee them concurrently — initially meant only to give him experience — but seeing how well he’d handled his duties, had gone ahead and promoted him to the fifth-rank title of Ninyuan General.

But Cheng Ye’s departure from the city today was for a private matter.

Yun Xi had already spent a full two months lingering around Baiyun Mountain and had by now made her way to the eastern coastal fishing village.

Back in the eighth month, seeing her practically turn over every blade of grass on Baiyun Mountain, Cheng Ye had tried once to talk her out of it. At the time, Yun Xi had seemed somewhat disheartened, and though she hadn’t mentioned returning to Jinling, she’d agreed to accompany the imperial guards to the Huai’an area to look further. Cheng Ye had thought that if she still found nothing after Huai’an, she’d surely give up hope.

But then, unexpectedly, she’d found something by the cliff outside Qingfeng Court, and had grown almost obsessed afterward, insisting Cheng Chang had disappeared by falling off the cliff, spending every day searching beneath it with her men, then following the shore of Baiyun Lake eastward, asking after him in every village along the way.

The soldiers Cheng Ye had assigned her were, after all, enlisted men with official duties — they couldn’t simply follow her around aimlessly like this indefinitely. By now, aside from a handful who remained, only Tian Si, Ke Yong, and two attendants from Prince Cong’s household still accompanied Yun Xi.

Tian Si’s younger brother, Tian Ze, had passed the autumn examination and become a provincial graduate, and had been frequently helping out at the Marquis’s residence these days. When Cheng Ye had first had Tian Ze pass along updates on Yun Xi’s situation to Fang Fulan, Fang Fulan had said, “Let her keep looking. That’s just A’Ting’s nature — she won’t give up until she’s tried everything herself.”

But a few days ago, seeing that Yun Xi hadn’t been home in two full months, Fang Fulan had once again sent word through Tian Ze, asking Cheng Ye to persuade Yun Xi to return to the residence.

Cheng Ye rode out from the city gate, not toward Baiyun Mountain, but along the official road, straight for the eastern coastal fishing village.

At the fishing village, soldiers had already been posted to meet him. Seeing Cheng Ye, they stepped forward and bowed. “General.” Then added, “Commandant Yun went to Wutong Village today, sir. This subject will take you there.”

Cheng Ye nodded.

He could, in truth, understand why Yun Xi kept searching from village to village.

A fall from such a great height — even if it hadn’t killed him, it would surely have left him gravely injured. Given the third young master’s noble upbringing, if badly hurt, he certainly couldn’t have managed on his own; he would have needed someone to care for him. So if he was alive, he must have been rescued by some kind-hearted soul at the foot of the cliff.

Only… after so much time had passed, most people in Jinling — including Princess Consort Cong herself — had come to accept that the third young master was dead.

And so, while others searched for the third young master’s remains, only Yun Xi still searched for him, alive.

Reaching Wutong Village, Cheng Ye dismounted at the village entrance and, with a few of his men, walked into the village. Before he’d gone far, he spotted Yun Xi and Sun Haiping holding up a portrait, knocking on a door, asking, “Auntie, have you seen this man before, by any chance?”

The woman who answered glanced at the portrait and shook her head. “Never seen him.”

Yun Xi said, “Please, look more carefully. He’s about this tall, and may be injured.”

The woman looked at the portrait again and said, “This painting of yours… was drawn based on a bodhisattva, wasn’t it? In our little village, when would we ever have seen anyone who looks like this? If we had, how could we possibly forget?”

A few nearby women, overhearing the exchange, gathered around and glanced at the portrait in Yun Xi’s hand as well, chiming in, “That’s right, even the bodhisattva isn’t as handsome as him, I’d say.”

“Young lady, who’s this man in the painting to you? Why don’t you leave a copy with us — we’ll help keep an eye out.”

Yun Xi nodded, handing over the copy she was holding. “Thank you all so much.”

Clear disappointment showed in her eyes. She stood there in silence for a moment, then, just as she turned around, her gaze met Cheng Ye’s, watching her from not far away.

Cheng Ye stepped forward. “Don’t lose heart. I believe the third young master’s fortune will surely protect him.”

Yun Xi gave an “Mm,” her gaze lowered, eyes somewhat dim. “I haven’t lost heart.”

She simply wanted to find him as soon as possible.

After all, every day of delay meant one less day of hope for his survival.

Cheng Ye watched her, saying nothing for a moment.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t asked her before why she insisted so stubbornly on searching for Cheng Chang. At the time, Yun Xi had only said that the third young master had helped clear her brother’s name, and that she was simply repaying that kindness.

Recalling the purpose of his trip today, Cheng Ye said to Yun Xi, “Don’t wear yourself out over this. There are people at the Marquis’s residence waiting for you to come home too.”

Yun Xi said quietly, “I know.” Then added, “I’ll go ask a few more houses.”

The nearby woman, seeing her like this, tried to console her. “Don’t rush yourself, young lady. When my old man gets back from the sea, I’ll have him ask around for you.”

“That’s right, that’s right,” others chimed in. “They drift dozens, even a hundred li out at sea, sometimes stopping at nearby towns and villages — they see more people than we do. Once they’re back in a few days, we’ll help you ask.”

The village’s fishermen made their living from the sea, and the men usually went out together in groups.

Yun Xi nodded and thanked them again.

She and Sun Haiping went on to another house nearby, knocked, and showed the portrait to the elderly woman who answered. Like the others before her, the old woman said she’d never seen him.

Wutong Village was small — within an hour or so, Yun Xi, having split up with Tian Si and Ke Yong to canvas the village, found, as always, that no one had ever seen Cheng Chang.

By now dusk had settled, the sun sinking in the west. Without the harsh midday sun, the autumn chill pierced sharply into the skin.

Yun Xi had originally planned to stay the night in Wutong Village and continue asking in neighboring villages the next morning. She was just turning to head back into the village when she suddenly saw the woman from earlier rushing toward her, calling out, “Young lady, quick, come quick!”

Yun Xi stepped forward. “What’s wrong?”

“Grandma Zhang from the next village over brought her little granddaughter to visit Auntie Liu’s place. I just showed Auntie Liu the portrait, and the little granddaughter said their household has had a bodhisattva-looking man staying with them these past few days, who looks quite similar to the one in the painting.”

Yun Xi froze.

It was Cheng Ye beside her who spoke first. “Truly? He really looks that similar to the man in the portrait?”

“Oh, would I lie about that?” the woman urged them. “Why not just go see for yourselves?”