The sun shone brightly, cotton clouds drifting overhead. After the carriage had gone several li, it entered the city of Bianliang, amid the bustling pre-festival atmosphere. Zhou Pei sat alone in the mansion’s carriage up ahead, while Ning Yi, Yao Zunian, and Cheng Zhouhai chatted idly on and off in the carriage behind, driven by Dongzhu. Along the way, Ning Yi kept his hands clasped together, his left fingers seemingly absentmindedly pressing against the base of his right thumb; passing by a restaurant, he finally let go, smiling. “It’s just about lunchtime — if you two have nothing pressing, why not join me for a meal and some tea afterward? My treat.”

The pain in the base of his thumb, caused by his earlier clash of blades with Lu Qian, had only now fully faded.

Many of the so-called precious swords and blades of this era, in truth, couldn’t necessarily match the finest steel cutting knives of another age — sharp, perhaps, but claims of cutting through iron like mud were surely exaggerated. When Ning Yi and Lu Qian had traded that single blow, both had used considerable force; in terms of swordsmanship, Ning Yi was naturally no match for Lu Qian, and mid-clash he’d also had to bring out the lime packet with the flow of the movement. After the blade broke, the base of his thumb had been slightly strained — an ordinary enough injury, though it had taken this long to fully heal.

This second clash with Gao Muen had come abruptly, over in an instant, nothing he’d anticipated beforehand. He’d been mulling it over the whole way, though he hadn’t shown it in front of Yao Zunian and Cheng Zhouhai.

After they had the little princess’s carriage stopped, the four of them went up to a nearby restaurant to dine, and with Zhou Pei present too, Yao Zunian finally recounted in full detail everything that had happened afterward at the estate.

“…To be honest, this matter should have had Liheng’s consent first, but the timing was simply too good — this old man discussed it with Chancellor Qin as well. Liheng’s poems shouldn’t be left gathering dust unseen; the fame they deserve, he ought to claim. After this affair, once these poems spread, I doubt many will still dare question Liheng’s talent — and it’ll spare him a good deal of unnecessary trouble besides. I only hope Liheng won’t hold this against this old man.”

Among the several advisors at the Qin household, Cheng Zhouhai, in his thirties, could be considered roughly Ning Yi’s peer. Yao Zunian, in his fifties, counted as an elder in this era — though he claimed to treat Ning Yi as an equal in scholarly matters and never put on airs, in their actual dealings Ning Yi still made sure to show him proper respect. Men of learning from this age, like Yao Zunian and Qin Siyuan, genuinely and sincerely nurtured, supported, and helped the younger people they approved of — Ning Yi was no hot-headed youth and could see this clearly enough. He cupped his hands in thanks at once.

“That does spare a great deal of trouble. If it weren’t for Elder Yao stepping forward this time, they surely wouldn’t have believed it even if told outright.”

“Ha, a small effort on my part — with Liheng’s talent, this old man merely added a touch of polish to an already fine piece. It’s just a pity Liheng left before hearing Miss Shishi try singing that ‘Wang Hai Chao’…”

Having secured Ning Yi’s approval, Yao Zunian changed the subject, smiling as he spoke of Li Shishi’s singing skill. Ning Yi listened, though in truth he could also read another layer of meaning into all this.

The idea of publicizing these poems had surely been discussed between Yao Zunian and Qin Siyuan beforehand. They were upright men of letters, and while they genuinely didn’t want a talented young man’s reputation buried, there was another reason too — one connected to the Overlord Blade Camp.

Ning Yi had originally written those poems for Liu Xigua, who’d wanted to make a splash, and had never intended to reclaim them afterward. But later, when Hangzhou fell and the Overlord Blade Camp was relocated, Ning Yi had been involved — the connection lingered, tangled and unresolved. Wenren Bu’er knew of this, and Qin Siyuan’s side surely knew as well. Fang La had already been defeated, with hundreds of thousands scattered in flight; as for one mountain stronghold slipping away, they likely didn’t much care. But knowing and quietly tolerating something wasn’t the same as endorsing it. Publicizing these poems served two purposes: establishing a clear public identity for him, and drawing a clean line — both a form of protection and a quiet reminder.

Even if someone later dug up something connecting Ning Yi to that stronghold, those above already knew of it. And the quiet reminder embedded in drawing this line was simply this: those things of yours shouldn’t be given to them anymore.

These were things they could all read between the lines well enough; once the goodwill behind it was confirmed, there was nothing more to worry about. Afterward, as Yao Zunian described the stunned expressions of those at the gathering, Ning Yi and the others found it rather amusing to hear — by tomorrow, word would probably spread across all of Bianliang, and there might even be people showing up at Wenhui Tower to pay their respects. Ning Yi found the thought rather a headache.

Of the three, Yao Zunian was normally the steady, composed one, while Cheng Zhouhai tended to be a bit more hot-blooded — yet this time it was Yao Zunian who seemed unusually pleased, while Cheng Zhouhai merely smiled along, occasionally chiming in, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, as if something good had happened. There were many things within the Secret Investigation Bureau that couldn’t be spoken of openly, so no one found this particularly strange.

By this point Zhou Pei’s mood had lifted somewhat too. She wanted to say something to Ning Yi, but with Yao and Cheng present, she wasn’t sure what to say — though she was certainly curious about Ning Yi’s rising fame, and kept peppering Yao Zunian with questions. Before long, Ning Yi asked with a smile about Princess Qing and the others, and she recounted in detail everything that had happened at the mansion these past few days…

At the same time, while Ning Yi and the others were finishing lunch at the restaurant and settling in for tea and conversation, in another restaurant room elsewhere in Bianliang, someone, having eaten and drunk his fill, was smashing plates on the floor.

“Lu Qian — I can’t swallow this! That bastard… what the hell kind of person is he! He threatened me! He actually dared threaten me! My father is Gao Qiu, damn it — and you lot are all useless too, not a shred of backbone —”

Young Master Gao, having finished his meal, cursed as he swept the plates beside him onto the floor, then grabbed bowls and chopsticks and hurled them at the guards around him.

“Fine, so we couldn’t beat him! Fine, so we didn’t even fight! But I just remembered — we didn’t even get in a proper parting shot! Why didn’t any of you speak up? We left without even a single harsh word! What kind of men are you, you’ve made me lose all my face! Lu Qian, where the hell have you gone —”

The confrontation that had happened in front of that estate had, honestly, truly frightened him at the time — if the man had been some desperate criminal willing to fight to the death, he wouldn’t have felt this way, but the man’s reaction back then had been utterly incomprehensible, like dealing with a lunatic; goosebumps had risen all over his body, a chill creeping up from his tailbone, and once released, his mind had simply gone blank about what to do. The guards had likely felt much the same — they’d been waiting for Gao Muen to give some clear order, but by the time the young master came back to his senses, all he’d said was to leave, so the group had simply left. Only now, remembering they hadn’t even thrown out a proper threat on the way out, did the regret truly set in — and his guards bore the brunt of his fury for it.

Amid the cursing, Lu Qian, who had stepped out briefly, now walked back in. Gao Muen rushed up to him, spreading his hands wide.

“You’ve finally decided to show up! I’m telling you, I’ve lost all my face now, I can’t go on living! Lu Qian, tell me — could you really not beat that man?”

Lu Qian lowered his head. “Reporting to young master, it’s not that I couldn’t beat him — it’s just that the man’s methods were bizarre, and with the young master present at the time, I feared I might not be able to guard against every possibility…”

“I! Knew! It! I’ve already died once today!” Gao Muen spun around and jumped up onto a chair. “When he came at me like that, wrapping his arms around me, goosebumps rose all over my body, and he kept saying this and that… Lu Qian, he was telling me — you’re already dead! You’re already dead! You’re already dead! Lu Qian, don’t you understand? Threatening me like that is going way too far — I just wanted to get to know his friends — his girlfriends! Just wanted to be friends with them, I didn’t do anything wrong… Lu Qian, tell me, he’s not actually that hard to deal with, is he!”

Lu Qian was silent a moment. “We still don’t know his full background yet. But judging by how he operates, honestly, he’s a thorny one to deal with.”

“Even you’re saying that.” Young Master Gao looked at him with a mournful face.

“This subordinate is only speaking the truth.”

“Then hurry up and go dig up his background! First find out whether we can even afford to cross him! Then figure out if there’s any way to deal with him — if he’s just putting on airs, I’ll have him killed! Ugh, I’m so annoyed! I want a woman —”

Recalling his own conflicted terror and the humiliating way he’d fled the scene, Gao Muen couldn’t help but rant on unbearably. Lu Qian nodded and turned to head back out again.

…

They spent the afternoon at the restaurant drinking tea and chatting, whiling away the hours. Past the hour of Wei, the weather turned cool and overcast. The four of them went downstairs from the teahouse and took their leave of one another.

Yao Zunian and Cheng Zhouhai left first, and then Ning Yi saw Zhou Pei off to her carriage. Her feelings about the day’s events were complicated, but there wasn’t much more to say. “Teacher, will you come watch the dragon boats tomorrow?”

“I should be able to make it.” There was more and more to deal with, no telling when it would all be done, but with Xiao Chan, Yun Zhu, and Jin’er all here, Ning Yi still meant to make time to go out with everyone for the Dragon Boat Festival races.

“Then… I’ll be up on the viewing platform set up out front… Teacher, remember to call for me…” She smiled, a little bashfully. When the carriage arrived, she bid farewell and climbed aboard, then, remembering something, couldn’t help turning back. “Teacher?”

“Hm?”

“Um…” Zhou Pei thought for a long moment, then finally shook her head. “Never mind, I’m going… See you tomorrow, Teacher.”

Saying this softly, she climbed into the carriage and let down the curtain.

Ning Yi watched the carriage recede into the distance, his gaze gradually growing deeper, more thoughtful.

He hadn’t mentioned the matter with Gao Muen in front of Yao and Cheng.

In Bianliang, whether it was Xiao Chan or Yun Zhu and Jin’er, even with him gone, he could entrust their care to the chancellery and the Secret Investigation Bureau — in theory, their safety wasn’t in question. He wouldn’t grow overly anxious just because of what Gao Muen had said today; the man might act recklessly, but he wasn’t necessarily a truly ruthless one, and once both sides laid out their backgrounds, at the very least Lu Qian’s side would know not to make a move. The family of a chancellery advisor carried an entirely different weight than the family of some background-less imperial guard instructor.

But even understanding all this, now that the conflict had begun, he wouldn’t remain entirely unguarded either — if there was something he could do about it, he’d consider doing it. Though he had no idea exactly where in the city Gao Muen might be plotting to kill him right now, something like this was bound to happen sooner or later; only after that would come the matter of investigating backgrounds. If possible, he’d rather make things a bit more secure — root out the problem at its source, so to speak.

If he could really find a good way to do it, he’d kill this man — that was what he was thinking. Of course, he didn’t have much in the way of usable resources in the capital just yet, and this matter couldn’t easily go through the Secret Investigation Bureau for now. Whether it was even feasible would require gathering information first, then seeing if any weakness could be found — for that, he’d probably have to turn to Li Shishi.

What kind of information he’d get, whether it was even possible, would depend on luck — but at the very least, this was the sort of thing worth preparing for in advance. Only, thinking of it this way, the pile of matters on his hands did seem to keep growing, and he couldn’t help but sigh inwardly at the thought.

Yet even he, at this moment, could never have imagined just what kind of stir and change this sudden, brief flare-up of conflict would set in motion — the ripples it would cause, visible and invisible, taking root because of this very incident, directly or indirectly shaping countless lives for over a decade, even decades to come. Years later, looking back and tracing it to this small, careless origin, he would only be able to sigh softly and smile wryly at it all.

But for now, cotton clouds still blocked the sky, the light of day not yet fading. Elsewhere, Yao Zunian and Cheng Zhouhai’s carriage passed through the streets and alleys, returning to the chancellery residence. Cheng Zhouhai sat there with his head lowered, lost in thought, a smile on his face; at some point, he lifted the curtain and called for the carriage to stop.

“I’ve just remembered there’s something I need to attend to. Elder Yao, please go on back to the residence first — I may need to walk about a bit and handle something before returning.”

Yao Zunian nodded. He had no idea what Cheng Zhouhai had been thinking about along the way, but of course this wasn’t something that had “just occurred” to him — though he had no interest in prying further either. He nodded with a smile and took his leave.

As the carriage rolled off into the distance, Cheng Zhouhai looked at the pedestrians on the street, then chose a direction and strolled off at an unhurried pace, making his way through the city streets…

…

The sky remained overcast. Zhou Pei returned to her room at the mansion, dismissed her maids, and shut the door. She flopped face-down onto the bed, burying her head in the blanket for a moment, then picked up a long, round pillow and sat up on her knees.

She gazed at the pillow with a serious expression, then clasped it in both arms, tilting her head to rest against its side — if anyone had seen her just then, they might have thought her expression and gaze looked rather odd.

“None of you know who I am… why would you do this… don’t you know, the moment I first saw you, I knew we could be friends… You’ve disappointed me so much…”

She spoke this in a low, slow, slightly deranged tone, chin lifted, gaze cold and disdainful. After a moment, she shifted into a slightly different pose and expression, reciting harsh lines she’d either heard before or imagined in her head. Hugging the pillow, she thought to herself: Teacher really is amazing.

She flopped back down onto the bed, then rolled over, mouth open, gazing at the ceiling with a sigh of admiration. After a good while, she rolled back and forth across the bed.

When that adorable rolling finally stopped, she lay on her back, lifted the pillow in her hands, and looked at it, her gaze turning cold as she studied it for a long moment.

“You really deserve to die…” She tilted her head, murmuring the words, then hugged the pillow again and began replaying in her mind what she’d witnessed. This continued until… a maid came knocking at the door.

“Your Highness.”

“What is it?”

“A Master Cheng is here asking to see you.”

“Huh? Master Cheng?”

“A scholar in his thirties. He says his name is Cheng Zhouhai, and that Your Highness knows him.”

“Um…” Zhou Pei blinked in surprise. They had just parted ways not long ago — she did indeed know this Cheng Zhouhai from before, though he’d been fairly quiet along the way today, aside from a few words exchanged on the ride to the estate; the two of them hadn’t talked much otherwise. Why would he come to the mansion to visit her privately now? Puzzled, she nevertheless told the maid to bring him in and serve tea and refreshments. After exchanging greetings and sitting down, Zhou Pei asked what had brought him here. Cheng Zhouhai took a sip of tea, then smiled at the maid standing in the room.

“You may go for now — Master Cheng and I have something to discuss.” Zhou Pei dismissed the maids. Once the door closed, Cheng Zhouhai set down his teacup after a moment and stood up. Knowing his position as a chancellery advisor, Zhou Pei had no particular ill feeling toward him. She watched as he walked to the door, opened it to check outside once more, and, confirming no one was there, closed it again. “I’ve come this time because I truly have an important matter to discuss with Your Highness. Of course, if I’ve misjudged the situation, I’d ask that Your Highness simply forget you ever heard it.”

“Please, speak freely, Master Cheng. Zhou Pei understands the stakes involved.” The fifteen-year-old girl answered with a smile.

Cheng Zhouhai turned to look at her, studying her for a long moment. “Your Highness — could it be that you wish to take action against that Young Master Gao?”

“Huh?” Zhou Pei blinked, then after a pause, “Master Cheng… whatever do you mean?”

Cheng Zhouhai, watching her expression closely, smiled again. “When Your Highness hid behind the carriage today and watched that whole affair unfold, this one happened to be right behind you as well, and saw the entire thing from start to finish.”

Zhou Pei’s expression wavered, her face slowly reddening — fortunately, Cheng Zhouhai wasn’t looking at her just then, only bowing slightly. “This one simply wishes to say — having served in the Secret Investigation Bureau for many years, I know quite a bit about that Philanderer’s misdeeds here in Bianliang. If Your Highness wishes to act against that Philanderer but isn’t sure how to go about it, this one would be glad to lend Your Highness a hand — to rid Bianliang of this menace once and for all!”