The early spring morning was cold. Zhao Wu had just gotten up and was walking to the front courtyard, yawning, when he saw Fang Fulan emerge from behind the screen wall, wrapped in a thin cloak, and call out, “Zhao Wu.”

She had spent the whole night worrying about Yun Xi and hadn’t slept well; there wasn’t a trace of color in her face, and she looked altogether too delicate to bear much.

Zhao Wu asked, “Young Madam, why are you up so early?”

Fang Fulan said, “I’m feeling a bit unwell. I need to make a trip to the apothecary.”

Fang Fulan usually went to the apothecary once every ten days, and only more often when her illness flared up—even then, she’d let Zhao Wu know half a day in advance. For her to suddenly announce she needed to go out, the way she had just now, was exceedingly rare.

Zhao Wu thought it over for a moment. “All right, this humble one will take the Young Madam there right away.”

Seeing his hesitant expression, Fang Fulan asked, “Do you have something else to attend to?”

“It’s nothing major. The Marquis Zhongyong’s former subordinates are back in the capital, and a few of the old soldiers can’t read or write, so they couldn’t compose their service reports. The Young Miss wrote them out on their behalf yesterday and asked this humble one to deliver them to the Ministry of War.” Zhao Wu added, “But it’s fine—I’ll take the Young Madam to see the doctor first today, and deliver the documents to the Ministry of War tomorrow. There’s no rush.”

Fang Fulan said, “Since it concerns the Marquis’s former subordinates, it shouldn’t be delayed.” She thought for a moment. “Bring the documents with you. After you drop me at the apothecary, you needn’t wait for me—go on to the Ministry of War early to deliver them. Once I’ve finished my consultation, I’ll have Shopkeeper Cen arrange a carriage to bring me home.”

Zhao Wu considered this and thought it reasonable. He went around to the back to prepare the carriage, then brought it around to the front gate, where he found Fang Fulan waiting alone outside the residence. “Isn’t Mingcui coming with you, Young Madam?”

Fang Fulan shook her head. “After A’Ting marched out last night, she helped pack up her things and didn’t get to rest until well past midnight.”

Zhao Wu nodded, thinking to himself that the healer at the apothecary took good care of the Young Madam, and that Mingcui didn’t always accompany her there anyway. He drove the carriage off toward Vermillion Bird Street.

It was still early. By the time they reached the intersection of South Vermillion Bird Street and the Qinhuai riverbank, the Hechun Hall apothecary had only just opened. Shopkeeper Cen stood outside the shop, removing the door panels one by one. Hearing a carriage stop behind him, he turned and, seeing who it was, came forward with a bow. “Has the Young Madam’s illness flared up again?”

Fang Fulan nodded and asked, “Is Doctor Xue in today?”

Doctor Xue was the healer who regularly treated Fang Fulan with acupuncture.

“She’s in.” Shopkeeper Cen said. “She came in early today—arrived before dawn, even.”

With that, he called into the shop, “Doctor Xue, the Young Madam from the Marquis’s residence is here.”

A moment later, a gray-haired old woman with a kind, gentle face emerged from the back room, smiling. “Last time I prescribed medicine for the Young Madam, there was one ingredient the shop didn’t have in stock, so we had to substitute something else. As luck would have it, that ingredient arrived just last night—I was just saying I’d have someone deliver the properly prepared medicine to the residence, and here you are.”

With that, she led Fang Fulan toward the back room for her treatment.

Seeing this, Zhao Wu, who had been waiting outside the apothecary, felt reassured and drove the carriage off toward the Ministry of War.

Shopkeeper Cen watched until his figure disappeared at the end of the street, then closed the door and returned to the back room. “He’s gone,” he said to Fang Fulan and Doctor Xue.

Doctor Xue nodded and rolled up the needle case she’d laid out, putting it away.

Fang Fulan looked at her and asked, “Did he come in the night?”

Deep worry showed on Doctor Xue’s brow. “Yes. He arrived around the fourth watch. I heard it was over some small mistake—His Majesty made him kneel outside Wende Hall, from noon all the way until the third watch of the night.”

As she spoke, she and Shopkeeper Cen together moved aside a medicine cabinet against the wall, revealing a hidden door behind it.

Behind the hidden door was a sealed alley. Following it deeper led to the back gate of an ordinary-looking household.

Doctor Xue knocked three times. After a moment, the door creaked open, and the guard who answered it bowed with clasped hands. “Young Madam.”

Doctor Xue handed the thin brocade cloak she was carrying to Fang Fulan. “Young Madam, go on and see him quickly. His Highness has been sitting alone all night, drinking, refusing to listen to anyone who tries to talk him out of it.”

Fang Fulan nodded slightly and stepped into the courtyard.

From the outside, the house looked perfectly ordinary, but the back courtyard within was strikingly elegant. Spring had brought everything into bloom, and white magnolias stood in graceful bud in the garden. Beneath the drooping willows by the stone bridge, a man sat alone at a stone table, pouring and drinking wine by himself.

He was tall and slender, a plain, elegant piece of jade at his waist. Seen like this, his profile was extraordinarily handsome.

As though hearing Fang Fulan’s footsteps, he said, “You’re here?”

Fang Fulan gave a soft “Mm.”

He smiled. “I knew you’d come, so I waited here for you.”

She was sharp as ice and snow—once Yun Xi had brought the edict closing the Marquis Zhongyong’s case back to the residence yesterday, she would surely have guessed what was coming.

Fang Fulan gently draped the thin cloak over his shoulders and sat down across from him. “The Third Young Master forced His Majesty to close the Marquis’s case. Did His Majesty punish you for it?”

“Father wanted to go easy on Fourth Brother, claiming he didn’t know about the grain-exchange dealings at the Bureau of Military Affairs, and only charged him with a minor offense of oversight. Most of the blame was pinned on Yao Hangshan. As for the rest, they charged me with negligence, saying I failed to properly audit the account books back then, which was how Yao Hangshan managed to exploit such a large loophole.” He gave a hollow laugh.

Fang Fulan looked at him. His eyes were very beautiful, softly curved, the outer corners drooping slightly—eyes born for tenderness. If he ever smiled with his whole heart, there was no telling what brilliance it might hold, but it was a pity he rarely smiled sincerely. Even now, his eyelids were lowered just slightly, making his true feelings impossible to read.

Fang Fulan said, “Actually, back when you discovered there was a problem with the account books Prince Yun submitted, you could have told His Majesty outright. Why put it off until now?”

Prince Ling said flatly, “Never mind that. He’s always disliked me. If I do everything too well, it would only annoy him more, make him wary of me.”

He remembered the first time he’d taken on official duties and successfully handled a major case, fully expecting Emperor Zhaoyuan’s praise. Instead, when the memorial reached the imperial desk, the emperor’s face had darkened, and he hadn’t summoned him again for a full three months afterward.

“So there’s no need to spare him the trouble of finding fault with me. I know how to handle myself. He’s spent all these years accusing me of accomplishing nothing—I’m used to it by now.”

Fang Fulan asked, “Does His Majesty suspect you, regarding the Third Young Master’s matter?”

“He’d like to suspect me, but he has no proof.” Prince Ling finished his cup and poured another, bringing it to his lips. “Every loose end that needed sealing has been sealed clean. Both the Pei Mansion and Baiyun Temple—Fourth Brother’s men did the actual work. If he wants to prove I used a borrowed knife to kill, how is he going to keep Fourth Brother clean of it? Even if he suspects me, he won’t want to pursue it.”

“Besides, Fourth Brother is simply too foolish. He merely saw that Mingying and Yun Xi had grown close, and without preparing anything properly, rushed to act at the Pei Mansion’s water pavilion. As for what happened at Baiyun Temple—if I hadn’t used Luo Shu to lure Mingying to Qingfeng Court, and planted two witnesses there beforehand, then had someone leak word to Fourth Brother that Mingying was going to Qingfeng Court to investigate his case, he’d still think to this day that his plan was flawless.”

“Unfortunately,” Prince Ling paused here, “I miscalculated one step.”

Fang Fulan looked at him. “Third Young Master?”

“Yes. When Mingying fell from the cliff at Baiyun Temple, I clearly had my man mixed in among Fourth Brother’s hidden guards, following them all the way to outside Qingfeng Court. Afterward I even had lanterns sent up along the cliff face to search for him. They found nothing, but with a fall that high, he should certainly have died. I don’t know how he survived. I calculated that once Mingying’s death was confirmed, our imperial uncle would certainly investigate the cause of his death, which would eventually lead back to Fourth Brother and Yao Hangshan. So I left a piece of testimony at Qingfeng Court for our uncle to find—since our uncle wouldn’t know the true circumstances of that day, he shouldn’t have any reason to doubt that testimony. I never expected Mingying to come back alive.”

“He’s simply too clever. From that one piece of testimony alone, he’s already grown suspicious of me.”

Fang Fulan said, “He’s grown suspicious of me too. That day he was carrying Snowball down by the Qinhuai, investigating Susu’s case, and Snowball seemed to recognize me. He should be able to guess that I was the last person Susu saw alive that Mid-Autumn night. He might well have his men look into the Fang family’s affairs from back then.”

Hearing this, Prince Ling set down his cup, his fingers drumming lightly on the stone table. After a long moment, he said, “I’m afraid it’s worse than that. He’ll probably go to Wei Jie as well, and have him start from the old Fang residence case, tracing it back to the bloodshed at Mingyin Temple.”

His brow furrowed slightly as he said this. “If that happens, everything becomes much harder to manage.”

He clapped his hands. A moment later, a guard approached from a distance and bowed. “Your Highness.”

“Have Chai Ping from the Censorate come see me at once.”

Hearing this, Fang Fulan startled slightly. “You mean to move against the Third Young Master yourself?”

A magnolia petal drifted down from the tree branches and settled slowly onto the stone table, coming to rest beside his slender, jade-like fingers.

Fang Fulan looked at the fallen petal and asked softly, “Could you… not kill the Third Young Master?”

“Why not?” Prince Ling asked, then understood at once. “Because of Yun Xi?”

Fang Fulan lowered her eyes and gave a bitter smile. “A’Ting has shown me such deep kindness. I only don’t want her to end up like me in the end. We’ve relied on each other and made it through all these years together, so if there’s anything in this world that brings her happiness, I want it to last forever. If there’s someone she cares for, I want her to be able to be with him properly.”

Prince Ling looked at Fang Fulan for a long moment, then sighed softly. “It’s no use. Do you know why Father gave Yun Xi command of the troops? Because she’s a woman.”

“Fourth Brother can’t inherit the throne. Father hasn’t gone a single day without hoping Wei Jie and Xuan Zhi can find Cheng Xu. But this Cheng Xu, after all, is the Fifth Prince who’s been scattered among the common people—even if he returns to court one day, he won’t easily win the trust of the officials right away. If the court were thrown into turmoil at that point, with military power divided among the various generals, Cheng Xu would have no one to support him besides Xuan Zhi—how could he possibly secure his footing? So Father handed military authority to Yun Xi precisely because she’s a woman. The moment she marries, that authority will naturally pass to the emperor or the crown prince.”

“That’s exactly why, whoever Yun Xi marries, it absolutely cannot be Mingying. Father gave her military power so that she would hold onto it for him. Mingying’s status is far too exalted—counting back to Grandfather’s generation, he’s the true direct line, his bloodline even outranking mine, a mere son of a concubine. It’s only because Father took the throne that he’s been relegated to a close but collateral branch. He’s the one person who poses a real threat to imperial authority. If Yun Xi married him, wouldn’t military power slip right out of the family’s hands?”

“If Mingying were still the same muddled fool he used to be, it wouldn’t matter. But look at him now—when has he shown even a trace of confusion? Sharper than most people by far, even Wei Jie is willing to serve him. What’s most unsettling is how calm he is, like someone not quite of this world, every step taken with total clarity. If it weren’t for his memory loss, if he were still stumbling around like a headless fly in a fog of confusion, I might not be his match by now.”

“The Third Young Master has lost his memory?” Fang Fulan asked, astonished.

Prince Ling gave a soft “Mm.” “I ran into him at the Ministry of Revenue the other day and tested him with something about the fifth son of the Zhou Hongguang family. He handled it smoothly enough, without giving away any major flaws—but that fifth son of the Zhou family is different. It’s something he shouldn’t have needed to ask about at all. So it seems he truly remembers nothing.”

Fang Fulan urged, “If he remembers nothing at all, then why do you need his life?”

“If he keeps pursuing the Mingyin Temple case, then between him and me, only one of us can survive. And even though he’s lost his memory now, what happens if he remembers again tomorrow?”

“Besides, look at how he treats Fourth Brother. If someone wrongs him, he never lets it go. He’s already begun to suspect that I’m the one truly behind what happened to him—there’s no chance he’ll let me go now.”

Fang Fulan was quiet for a long while, then asked, “When do you plan to move against him?”

“In the next day or two.” Prince Ling said. “Any longer, and it’ll be too late.”

Seeing a shadow of worry cross her brow, he comforted her. “You don’t need to worry about me. Even if Father finds out, he won’t pursue it—and right now, he’s wary of Mingying too.”

Fang Fulan shook her head. “That’s not what I’m worried about. You think everything through so thoroughly—if you move against him, there’s no chance of failure.”

She lowered her eyes, a shadow of sorrow settling over them. “I’m only thinking… if A’Ting ever found out, I don’t know how heartbroken she would be.”