It was still only the hour of the monkey, but the torrential rain made the sky unbearably gloomy. Meng Yunxian hurried up the steps, tossing his umbrella to the servant boy following behind. As he stepped through the door, he left a trail of wet prints.

He Tong and others had just been driven out of the inner chamber by Zhang Jing. Meeting Meng Yunxian face to face, they immediately bowed, calling: “Young Master Meng.”

“Perfectly fine, how did he suddenly cough up blood? Have you called for a physician?”

Meng Yunxian glanced through the curtain at the inner chamber, then shifted his gaze back to He Tong.

“We’ve already called one. Medicine has been administered.”

He Tong answered.

Meng Yunxian lifted the curtain and entered. The bitter smell of medicine hit him. Zhang Jing’s hair was disheveled, lying on the bed with eyes closed—whether awake or asleep was unclear.

“Chongzhi.”

Meng Yunxian walked to the bedside and called out. But looking at his withered face, for a moment, Meng Yunxian forgot what he should say.

“If you have nothing to say, why bother coming?”

Zhang Jing kept his eyes closed, his throat sounding as if scraped by coarse sand. “Back when we severed ties, we agreed clearly—even if we had opportunity to meet again in this life, we would absolutely not look back.”

“That’s what you said,”

Meng Yunxian wiped the rain from his face. “Not me.”

“Aren’t you afraid people will laugh at you, Meng Zhuo, for being shameless?” Zhang Jing laughed coldly. Turbid sounds welled up from his lungs, provoking a bout of coughing.

“You know I’ve never cared about such things.” Meng Yunxian shook his head. “Chongzhi, when you and I went separate ways back then, did you truly believe I was wrong? If so, why are you now willing to work together with me?”

“Only because imperial commands cannot be disobeyed.”

“Merely because imperial commands cannot be disobeyed?”

A long silence.

Zhang Jing opened his eyes. Looking at Meng Yunxian standing by the bed: “Must you ask? Meng Zhuo, do you know what I regret most in this life? It was agreeing to you back then and jointly promoting new governance with you!”

He didn’t speak of right or wrong, only of regret.

“Meng Zhuo, at least for now, don’t let me see you.”

Zhang Jing trembled, even his breathing shook slightly. He turned away, his hands clenched into fists beneath the covers.

The urgent rain grew heavier, pattering against the eaves.

Meng Yunxian walked out of Zhang residence with heavy steps. Helped into the carriage by an attendant, swaying all the way, he didn’t know how he returned home.

“Looking at you like this, did you see him or not? How is Master Zhang?” Meng Yunxian’s wife Jiang Shi held an umbrella to welcome him through the door.

“I saw him.”

Meng Yunxian barely regained his senses, letting Jiang Shi wipe the rain from his body. “He lay sick in bed—how could he stop me? But wife, today he said something to me.”

“What did he say?”

“He said, at least for now, don’t let him see me.”

Hearing this, Jiang Shi paused in wiping his lapel. She raised her head.

“No angry glares, no curses either. He said this to me very calmly,” Meng Yunxian’s Adam’s apple moved. He couldn’t articulate the complexity in his heart. “Yet it made me feel as if I’d been tortured…”

“Serves you right.” Jiang Shi slapped him. “What torture did you suffer? You were the one who pulled him into the fire pit back then. You were also the one who later let his student escape. If he picked up a stick and beat you now, you’d deserve it!”

“I’d rather he did pick up a stick and beat me.”

Meng Yunxian took the tea bowl Jiang Shi handed him. Hot steam rose. His eyes felt warm. Looking up at the misty rain beyond the eaves, he sighed slowly: “Back then, Chongzhi only walked this path with me after reading my ‘Clear Channel Commentary.’ But later when His Majesty abolished the new governance, I was demoted while he was exiled. With this exile, his wife and children all perished…”

“A’Shao, I have you by my side. But beside Chongzhi… who does he have?”

——

The sky had darkened completely. Zhou Ting returned to the Night Watch Bureau drenched. Han Qing swept everything off the desk with a dark expression, angrily rebuking: “Someone who attended court just yesterday—you searched for him before dawn today. How can you not find him!”

Zhou Ting lowered his eyes, remaining silent.

At dawn today, that Lin Yu opened his mouth and spat out “Du Cong.” Who was Du Cong? Wasn’t he precisely that Ministry of Rites vice minister and Ministry of Revenue deputy who had previously come to the Night Watch Bureau to bail out Commandant Miao’s son Miao Yiyang?

Almost as soon as Lin Yu confessed, Zhou Ting led subordinate officers to the Du residence to apprehend him. But unexpectedly, Du Cong had disappeared.

Zhou Ting searched all day in the rain but couldn’t find Du Cong.

“Without Du Cong, how can this case continue?” Han Qing certainly didn’t believe Du Cong was the chief culprit. Du Cong already held office at court with no heirs—why would he take such a risk to secure a future?

Then it could only be that he received benefits from someone and utilized his connections to facilitate this convenience.

“Commissioner, the herb woman Yang Shi has confessed.”

Zhou Ting said, “She confirmed that indeed someone gave her ten taels of gold to kill A’Zhou’s mother. Among the captured assassins, someone also loosened their tongue. They were hired to kill Yang Shi and silence her.”

“Since they were all hired, did they see clearly who hired them?” Han Qing asked.

“They did not.”

Zhou Ting paused, thinking of that lead assassin who fell from the roof. “But I feel one among them is different from the others.”

If different from those others, he must know something, right? Han Qing had just received a tea bowl from someone beside him when he set it down with a “bang.” “If so, Zhou Ting, make him talk as soon as possible!”

“Yes.”

Zhou Ting lowered his head.

Yun Jing’s rain kept increasing. These past days there hadn’t been a single clear moment. At night the moon couldn’t be seen either. Ni Su had no choice but to go to Yong’an Lake’s shore, planning to break off more willow branches to bring home.

A fifth-rank official from the court had disappeared, throwing all of Yun Jing into tumult. Ni Su felt this matter couldn’t be unrelated to her brother’s case, but with Zhou Ting not appearing, she couldn’t rashly go to the Night Watch Bureau to inquire.

“I remember it was that Du Cong who mediated previously, getting the Night Watch Bureau to release Miao Yiyang early.”

Ni Su carefully avoided wet stone steps, standing on tiptoe to break off a willow branch. She suddenly realized: “If he truly switched my brother’s examination paper, now that he’s surfaced, hasn’t Second Young Master Miao gained more suspicion?”

After all, Du Cong vouched for Miao Yiyang at a critical juncture. Now with Du Cong missing, wouldn’t Miao Yiyang, whom he guaranteed, have to return to the Night Watch Bureau again?

“If this case doesn’t uncover the real culprit, it cannot be concluded,” Xu Hexue watched her footing. “Therefore, Miao Yiyang is the designated ‘real culprit.'”

“But you needn’t worry. Those assassins who went to kill the herb woman Yang Shi that night are still under interrogation at the Night Watch Bureau.”

“I know.”

Ni Su listened to the crisp sound of rain droplets striking the umbrella edge, standing on tiptoe to reach higher willow branches, when she saw a hand reach past her.

Rain drizzled. The sound of a willow branch snapping.

In the moist mist, Ni Su turned around under the umbrella. Between his pale finger bones, water droplets fell on her forehead.

“Are you cold?”

There was wind by the river. Xu Hexue saw her right shoulder dampened by rain threads blown slant by the wind.

Green willows swayed like silk in the wind. Ni Su shook her head, letting him take the armful of willow branches while she took the umbrella from his hand, avoiding slippery spots to walk out of this dense greenery.

“Actually I don’t need you to do these things.”

Rain pattered. Few pedestrians on the road. Xu Hexue held willow branches, following beside her.

“But it keeps raining. I can’t make you keep enduring it.” Ni Su walked swiftly, only wanting to quickly return and change these thoroughly soaked shoes.

“You are human. Your cleanliness is more important than mine.”

Xu Hexue lowered his eyes, seeing her embroidered shoes already filthy with muddy water.

Hearing this, Ni Su suddenly stopped.

“Why must you say it like that?”

Ni Su held the umbrella, looking at him. “Yours is also very important.”

She perhaps didn’t know the weight her words carried for him. Xu Hexue’s eyelids moved, almost trembling.

This stretch of road—

Even though she walked very quickly, the umbrella she held always steadily sheltered over his head, even if her behavior seemed so strange in ordinary people’s eyes.

“If I don’t hold an umbrella for you, you certainly won’t catch cold or fall ill. But even if you’re a ghost spirit, you still shouldn’t like being soaking wet.”

Ni Su tugged at his sleeve, signaling him to walk forward. “If I don’t bathe I feel uncomfortable. Aren’t you the same? You see, we’re actually quite similar.”

She tried to use those three words “quite similar” to gently encompass the most essential difference between her and him. But ultimately, the slightest deviation leads to an error of a thousand miles.

Returning to the medical clinic on South Huai Street, Ni Su saw Chao Yisong waiting under the eaves and immediately walked forward: “Young Chao, why have you come?”

“Miss Ni, why did you break off so many willow branches?”

Chao Yisong saw her carrying an armful of willow branches and was somewhat puzzled.

“Young Chao doesn’t know—willow branches are also a medicinal ingredient.” Ni Su said.

“Ah, I truly didn’t know,” Chao Yisong scratched his head, remembering his purpose. Following Ni Su into the room and receiving her tea, he said, “Miss, have you heard about Master Du’s disappearance?”

“I’ve heard.”

Ni Su avoided Chao Yisong’s gaze while tidying her needlework, hiding the unfinished men’s garment inside. “Could he be the one who arranged to switch my brother’s examination paper?”

Chao Yisong was stunned, then nodded: “Yes, only now he’s disappeared. We’ve turned Yun Jing city upside down but haven’t found him. Our Young Master Zhou sent me to tell you this, to put your mind at ease and not get involved in dangerous matters again.”

Zhou Ting meant to warn her as a woman not to act rashly, but Chao Yisong couldn’t bring himself to say it harshly and softened it considerably.

“Please tell Young Master Zhou to rest assured. I won’t.” Ni Su said.

Hearing her say this, Chao Yisong himself breathed easier. “Who knows if that Master Du sprouted wings or what—vanishing into thin air like that. But that night we caught the herb woman and assassins who are still at the Night Watch Bureau. Young Master Zhou is interrogating them now.”

“When did that Master Du disappear?”

Ni Su sat down at the table.

“Strange to say, he attended morning court the day before. That night Commissioner Han pried open that Master Lin’s mouth. When I followed Young Master Zhou to his home, only his adoptive father and wife remained. Neither knew when he disappeared.”

This wasn’t anything that couldn’t be said. Chao Yisong drank tea and ate pastries while telling Ni Su about Du Cong. “I’ve heard quite a bit about him these past two days. Heard he was originally from a military household, formerly a military officer in the northern army. Fifteen years ago he recognized a civil official as his adoptive father. A military officer in his twenties recognizing a civil official in his thirties or forties as father—don’t you think that’s funny?”

Chao Yisong clicked his tongue. “I heard his rank was actually higher than that civil official’s then. But that’s how our Great Qi is—civil officials are naturally a rank above military men. Getting such an adoptive father, later he married this adoptive father’s widowed daughter-in-law who lived at home. Who knows what connections he used—heard he even changed his name. Just like that, step by step, he rose to fifth-rank court official.”

Ni Su was about to speak when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Xu Hexue had somehow already put away the willow branches. His clothes bore water droplets. His complexion looked somewhat strange.

But with Chao Yisong present, Ni Su couldn’t call him.

“Ni Su, ask him what Master Du was called before.” Xu Hexue raised his eyes, staring fixedly at Chao Yisong sitting across from her.

Though Ni Su didn’t understand, she still turned back and asked Chao Yisong: “Do you know what Du Cong was called before?”

These past days the Night Watch Bureau had investigated Du Cong’s affairs extensively. Chao Yisong thought carefully, then slapped his thigh. “Du Sancai! Right, that’s the name.”

Xu Hexue’s pupils constricted. Intense ringing assaulted his ears.

Ni Su saw his form transform into mist and quickly dissipate. An uneasy feeling arose in her heart. She spoke a few words with Chao Yisong, and after he left, quickly ran to the back corridor.

“Xu Ziling.”

Ni Su stood outside his room door.

Lamps flickered inside. Xu Hexue saw her shadow on the window screen and responded “Mm.”

“You…”

Ni Su wanted to ask him something, but looking at that hazy lamplight within the window screen, she pressed her lips together and said, “I’ll go boil willow leaf water for you.”

Her shadow disappeared from the gauze window.

Xu Hexue still stared at that window. After a long while, his sleeve covered his eyes.

Beacon fires on the Danyuan plains at night, iron armor stained with blood.

At fourteen, in the Huning Army, surrounded by many young faces, he drank his first bowl of strong liquor in this life. It choked him into continuous coughing, his whole face burning red.

They all laughed at him.

“Young Advanced Scholar can’t hold his liquor! You’ll need more practice!” A young captain laughed heartily.

Youthful and spirited, he hooked up a long spear with one foot, shattered the wine jar in that captain’s hand, and sparred with him amid everyone’s jeering.

“Xue Huai, do you submit?”

He pressed his knee against that captain’s back.

“How could I not submit to your Xu family’s martial arts?” Captain Xue Huai didn’t feel ashamed, still laughing. “Young Advanced Scholar, at such a young age you have such beautiful technique—those barbarians will suffer at your hands!”

After three rounds of drinks, he pillowed himself on armor by the fire, drowsy.

A shy youth suddenly approached, calling softly: “Scholar Xu.”

“Mm?”

He responded lazily.

“You became an Advanced Scholar at just fourteen. Why come to the frontier?” The youth spoke carefully, clutching a small book in his hand, crumpling it more and more.

“What are you clutching?”

He didn’t answer, instead staring at the youth’s little book.

“Oh, this,” the youth grew even more nervous. “Scholar Xu, I—I’d like to ask you to teach me to read. Would that be possible?”

“Sure.”

This was the first time he’d seen such a studious person in the military camp. He sat up, patting dust from his robes, and asked: “What’s your name?”

Firelight reflected on the youth’s face. He smiled and said: “Du Sancai.”

Xu Hexue dwelled in this sheltering darkness before his eyes. His finger joints tightened, turning pale. The luminous dust around him revealed sharp edges, scraping the candle flame.

Du Sancai was actually not dead.

Why on earth… was he not dead?