For a moment, silence fell over the rock garden.

After a while, Cheng Chang said, “I have no interest in the throne.”

Then he asked, “Has Lord Wei finished his little test?”

The two of them weren’t particularly close, and there was certainly no trust between them — such treasonous words could hardly be spoken so casually right out of the gate. Even though Prince Cong belonged to the direct imperial line, by Cheng Chang’s generation, the branch had already become a collateral one.

Cheng Chang had been repeatedly attacked, and word of it had spread outside the palace — most people would simply assume the Young Prince had brought misfortune upon himself through his past misdeeds. But Wei Jie, as a close guard of the Emperor, surely knew exactly who was behind the attempts on Cheng Chang’s life. The reason that person had remained so well hidden until now was simply that Emperor Zhaoyuan was deliberately shielding them.

Conflict between a prince’s son and an imperial prince inevitably touched on matters of imperial power.

This was precisely why Wei Jie had made such a claim — feigning intent to help place Cheng Chang on the throne, in order to test whether he harbored any ambition for it.

Little did he expect that Cheng Chang would see through his little scheme immediately.

Wei Jie raised an eyebrow in surprise, then spread his hands. “Fine.”

Cheng Chang said, “Go on then — what exactly did you want from me, calling me out here?”

Wei Jie walked over to a stone stool, brushed the snow off it, and sat down, saying lazily, “Not long after you returned to the capital, His Majesty suddenly summoned me and had me investigate two cases. One is the old injustice done to the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor. The other, well — it’s a bloody incident from over a decade ago at Mingyin Temple.”

Cheng Chang made a sound of acknowledgment.

Seeing that he wasn’t surprised, Wei Jie gestured to the stone stool across from him. “Hey, sit down too.”

Cheng Chang nodded and walked over to sit. Wei Jie continued, “But His Majesty always has his own calculations in what he does. As for the Marquis’s case, he told me to investigate just enough to make it look thorough — I’d guess it’s mostly for show. As for the other one—” He paused, then suddenly leaned in closer. “Seriously, do you really not remember anything at all?”

Seeing his reaction, Cheng Chang asked instead, “Is the reason you helped me tonight because you wanted to pry information out of me about the Mingyin Temple case from back then?”

“You knew?”

“I guessed.”

The injustice done to the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor was something Emperor Zhaoyuan had explicitly ordered investigated. If Wei Jie’s purpose had been to pursue that case, he could have simply discussed it openly — why go through the trouble of luring him out here?

And of all the things the imperial family avoided discussing over the years, the bloody incident at Mingyin Temple was chief among them.

Wei Jie said, “About twelve or thirteen years ago, there was a bloody massacre at Mingyin Temple — quite a few people died. I wasn’t Commander of the Imperial Guard Bureau back then, so I don’t know what caused it. But that’s not the important part. What matters is that after the massacre, one person went missing.”

“Who?”

“A child. A boy,” Wei Jie said. “If he’s still alive now, he’d be about your age.”

“Is investigating the Mingyin Temple case really just about finding this child?”

“Yes. His Majesty said this child grew up at Mingyin Temple from infancy. As for identifying marks — three red birthmarks on his back. His Majesty didn’t say who the child actually was, but if I had to guess, he probably has some connection to the imperial family — might even be His Majesty’s own blood. But how in the world am I supposed to find this person in such a vast realm? I can hardly set up checkpoints at the city gates and have every passing man lift his robe to check his back, can I? And that child, having escaped the massacre, has probably long since fled Jinling, gone to the ends of the earth by now.”

“So you came to me because the Grand Empress Dowager often took me to Mingyin Temple back then, hoping I might remember something about this missing child?” Cheng Chang asked.

“Not just that,” Wei Jie said after some thought. “His Majesty has never been satisfied with the third or fourth prince, which is why he’s left the succession vacant all this time. If my guess is right, and this child is truly His Majesty’s own blood, then once I find him, what do you suppose becomes of Prince Ling’s and Prince Yun’s positions? You, after all, are a prince’s son destined to inherit your father’s title — unless it directly concerns life-and-death matters of succession, who would bother going after you? I honestly thought your repeated brushes with assassination this past year had something to do with this missing child, since you used to go to Mingyin Temple with the Grand Empress Dowager often, and might know something. But then I reconsidered — that didn’t add up. If you actually knew something, you should have told Prince Cong and His Majesty long ago, and Jinling wouldn’t be as calm as it is now. So I guessed you might have lost your memory instead.”

“But you weren’t certain whether I’d truly lost my memory, so these past days you’ve been watching my movements closely. That’s why you came to the Censorate to find me that day. Later, when you noticed I’d grown close to Yun Xi, and that she’d saved me from danger multiple times, you started keeping an eye on her too. Tonight, your seat was placed right beside hers. When Yun Xi and I went to the lakeside by the camphor grove, you followed along the whole way.”

Wei Jie smiled without confirming or denying it. He drained the last of the wine from his jug, then leaned in closer. “So, tell me — that fellow with the scar on his palm, what was his name again? Ah, Mao Jiu. What did he tell you at the end? Why were you so desperate to find him?”

Cheng Chang thought for a moment and decided there was no harm in telling him.

Though he didn’t fully trust Wei Jie, he was fairly certain the man wasn’t working for the “noble one” — otherwise, why would he have helped him? He could easily have moved against him already.

“I was looking for Mao Jiu because he knew why I’ve been targeted so many times,” Cheng Chang said. “He told me I know a secret I shouldn’t know, and that before I fell into the water, I pointed to a place — Jiangyun Tower by the Qinhuai River.”

“Jiangyun Tower…” Wei Jie mulled this over for a while, then suddenly clicked his tongue. “That little girl from the Yun family?”

“You know about it?”

“Her brother and I got along well,” Wei Jie said. Seeing Cheng Chang’s evident doubt, he added, “Don’t disbelieve me. Back when she brought Yun Luo’s body home to Jinling, she was only sixteen, going all over the city alone looking for work. You think that indecisive Zhang fellow at the Jingzhao Prefecture would just happily take on a young girl as a constable on his own?”

Wei Jie pointed a thumb back at himself. “Me.”

“Though, I did tell Zhang Huailu not to mention this to anyone. The Marquis’s case runs deep — getting tangled up with a close guard of the Emperor like myself wouldn’t do her any good.”

Having helped Yun Xi, he hadn’t simply washed his hands of the matter afterward, either.

Whatever assignments Yun Xi took on, wherever she patrolled, Zhang Huailu would regularly send someone to keep Wei Jie informed.

That was how Wei Jie knew that Yun Xi often kept watch from Jiangyun Tower over the Young Prince as he drank on his pleasure boat.

Wei Jie asked, “So, the reason that ‘noble one’ wants you dead is because you learned a secret, and that secret is connected to that little Yun girl?”

Cheng Chang lowered his eyes, and after a moment said quietly, “Yun Xi is a person of clean conscience — how could she possibly be connected to something like this? Mao Jiu was likely pointing to the Marquis’s household instead.”

Hearing this, Wei Jie sighed, sounding quite disappointed. “Here I was thinking your being hunted had something to do with that missing child from Mingyin Temple — that would have given me a lead to find him. Turns out it’s connected to the Marquis’s household instead.”

“Hey,” he asked, “so what are you planning to do?”

Cheng Chang said, “Since it’s connected to the Marquis’s household, then I’ll pursue it through that case.”

“Oh, and I nearly forgot — you’re serving at the Censorate now, with Prince Cong’s household behind you as well.”

Wei Jie stretched, kicked the now-empty wine jar into a small pond nearby, then turned back with a smile. “Since you’ve been so honest with me, let me share something with you in return. The Marquis’s case is connected to Prince Yun.”

“Back when the Marquis was defending the northern frontier, the barbarians switched to a war of attrition. The Marquis, sensing something was off, sent an urgent dispatch to the Privy Council requesting emergency reinforcements of troops and grain. Did you know about this?”

Cheng Chang nodded.

He’d heard the two former subordinates of the Marquis mention this when he went to question them at Pure Wind Court in White Cloud Temple.

“Well, that urgent dispatch went unanswered for three whole months.”

“But that same year, there was a great drought in Huaibei, with refugees numbering in the hundreds of thousands. The local authorities reported it to the court, and His Majesty was so anxious he couldn’t sleep for nights on end. Then Prince Yun volunteered to go handle the disaster relief, and somehow managed to pull off a task that no one else could handle. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

Cheng Chang pondered this for a moment, then asked, “Are you suggesting Prince Yun might have diverted the troops and grain that were meant to be sent to the Marquis on the frontier?”

Wei Jie shrugged. “No idea. There’s no proof either way, and as for the Marquis’s case, His Majesty’s only allowed me to investigate it for show, not to dig deep. That old fox—” He smiled, uttering something thoroughly disrespectful, “—that old fox has deep calculations. Some matters he has me look into, others he hands quietly to Xuan Zhi. Xuan Zhi’s the type with a bit of blind loyalty — probably more to the old fox’s liking than I am, for certain tasks.”

Cheng Chang knew of Xuan Zhi — Commander of the Palace Guard, General of Guide.

Rulers always favor balance of power. To Emperor Zhaoyuan, Wei Jie, though unconventional in his methods, was difficult to fully control; Xuan Zhi, though dutiful and by-the-book, wasn’t suited for certain tasks that required discretion.

The best solution was to let the Palace Guard and the Imperial Guard Bureau — the two armed offices — check each other, ensuring Emperor Zhaoyuan could rest easy.

“When the Crown Prince died, by rights the succession should have passed to Prince Ling — legitimate heirs take precedence, and among illegitimate sons, the eldest inherits. Prince Ling is slightly older than Prince Yun and is the Imperial Noble Consort’s son besides, with better lineage. But perhaps because Prince Yun handled that one great task so well, the old fox has wavered, leaving the succession unsettled ever since.”

Cheng Chang nodded and said, “Thank you.” Seeing how late it had grown, he stood and began walking out of the rock garden.

“Where are you headed?” Wei Jie caught up, falling into step beside him, teasing, “Don’t tell me you’re going to see that little Yun girl who took a blade for you tonight? You’ve gotten a lot sharper than before, but when it comes to this sort of thing, you really don’t consider what others might think, do you? Who are you? The Third Young Master of Prince Cong’s household, the future prince. Just that time you went to visit her at the Imperial Guard Bureau — waited around for a whole hour, even brought her a hand warmer. If I hadn’t told my people to keep it quiet, the whole palace would probably be buzzing with gossip by now.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you — the old fox already has people watching the little girl’s residence tonight. If you go see her, word will definitely reach Yiqing Hall. Do you really want the old fox to arrange a marriage for you on the spot? New Year’s almost here — it’s not worth it. Besides, the old fox has specifically assigned the Junior Prince of Nan’an’s household to escort the Yun girl home first thing tomorrow morning. What do you suppose that means?”

Cheng Chang’s steps faltered slightly. He glanced at Wei Jie but said nothing.

When they reached the fork in the path, he turned — not toward Yun Xi, but back toward Huining Hall.

Wei Jie raised an eyebrow in surprise, but still followed along, proposing, “Once you’ve made progress on the Marquis’s case, let’s meet up again?”

“Didn’t you say His Majesty won’t let you touch the Marquis’s case?”

“I did say that,” Wei Jie said, blinking. “But I also said I despise Prince Ling and Prince Yun, and it makes me happy to see them in trouble.”

With that, he turned and, following a small path, wandered off unsteadily in another direction on his rounds.

Judging by his gait, he seemed thoroughly drunk — though in truth, his wine had run dry long before.