Seeing that Chu Linlang was still being courteous with him, Situ Sheng lowered his gaze and said unhurriedly: “Besides, I also need to return to the city. It is convenient for both of us, and I can ask you along the way about how things stand in Lianzhou.”

Chu Linlang understood — because of the old matter of his injury, he had something he wanted to say to her. She glanced back at the few manservants and maids she had brought along; that was enough to ensure they would not be considered alone together. So she thought it over and finally nodded her agreement.

The return journey went smoothly enough, except that just before entering the city, the sky suddenly darkened, and a heavy rain came on without warning.

They happened to be passing a tea stall just then, and Situ Sheng dismounted from his horse, inviting Chu Linlang to shelter from the rain together and have some tea.

They sat inside the tea canopy, while Xia He and the other servants sat at a neighboring table, cracking melon seeds and chatting idly.

As Situ Sheng poured the tea, he raised his eyes to look at the rather stiffly seated Madam Chu and said quietly: “It seems Madam has something she would like to ask me.”

Chu Linlang stopped concealing it. She bit her lip and lowered her voice: “May I ask, Magistrate — how did you come to be injured that day?”

Situ Sheng steadily passed her the teacup and held her gaze as he asked in a low voice: “What Madam truly wants to know is whether the recent murder cases are connected to me, is that not so?”

Accompanied by the roar of the downpour, he was not concerned that the people at the nearby table would overhear their conversation.

Chu Linlang quickly lowered her voice and said: “That was not my thought at all. If you had truly killed someone, how could you have let me survive until now? Your arm was injured back then, but you could still have killed a person or two — that desolate stretch of road on the outskirts of the city would have been a fine place to bury a body!”

Situ Sheng heard Madam Chu’s understanding generosity and gave a slight smile, but said nothing in reply.

Chu Linlang took it as tacit agreement and heaped on the flattery with great energy: “I never once thought you were a murderer. If I had, how could I have kept your secret until today? Besides, even if you truly had committed some transgression, I would do everything I could to help cover for you. After all, my husband Sui’an and you both serve under the Sixth Prince — that bond of collegiality runs as deep as mountains and rivers…”

Situ Sheng was not particularly inclined to listen to Chu Linlang’s insincere flattery, and finally explained: “I had originally gone to inquire about the details of some old case records. By ill chance, I encountered someone in the act of committing murder. I arrived a moment too late, but managed to rescue the victim in time, though my arm was wounded in the process. I happened to be spotted by servants who had rushed in, and to avoid being misunderstood and dragged into unnecessary trouble, I fled.”

Chu Linlang listened in silence. What he said matched everything Zhou Sui’an had gathered at the time.

And yet… a thought flickered through Chu Linlang’s mind. If his account was true, why had he been unwilling to return to the city immediately afterward?

Was it because the wound on his arm would be difficult to explain? Or was it because… he already knew that someone was waiting at the city gate to arrest him?

At that thought, another realization turned over in Chu Linlang’s mind: something was not right. When she had encountered Situ Sheng, it was just past noon. Even accounting for the time spent at the carpenter’s shop, they had returned before sundown.

Yet she had overheard the matrons at the Zhou household gossiping that the city gate had been placed on high alert and prepared to seize the suspect right at noon.

When a murder case broke out in a county, the standard procedure was to investigate locally first, then report to the prefecture — even the fastest processing of official channels took a full day.

And yet this time, within less than an hour of a murder involving a long-retired minor official, the prefecture’s city gates were heavily guarded, with soldiers even called in from the barracks to conduct searches…

It was as if someone had foreseen it all, and had long since spread the net, waiting for the quarry to walk into the trap!

Having worked this out, Chu Linlang silently drew in a cold breath and raised her eyes to look at the young man sitting before her. She was beginning to suspect just what kind of hornet’s nest he had stirred up to make someone set such a scheme against him.

And how very convenient that the dead were all people from the registry she had given him? Was it a coincidence — or had his investigation brought calamity down upon those people?

Situ Sheng had been watching Chu Linlang’s expression without a change in his own. Now the rain and mist were thick, raindrops drumming against the tea canopy’s clay tiles and rolling down in cascading strings.

Carried on the damp air, even the face of the woman across from him seemed to have taken on a trace of moisture. But Situ Sheng knew it was a faint cold sweat that had seeped out on that woman’s skin.

It seemed she too had pieced together the strangeness of that day. He just did not know if she was regretting it, feeling fear, wondering if she should not have helped him.

If he and she had returned to the city together that day, Chu Shi would inevitably have been implicated — branded with the charge of harboring a murder suspect…

At that point, would her self-righteous husband have given up his career to protect her?

At that thought, he lifted his teacup and took a shallow sip, then suddenly asked: “…Magistrate Zhou has taken a concubine?”

Hm? Chu Linlang was still absorbed in the treacherous currents of conspiracy, only now pulling herself back to the present. She had not expected Situ Sheng to ask such a thing.

After all, that sort of question was the kind of gossipy thing a woman like Madam He would ask. For a person of refined character such as Situ Sheng, to stoop to such idle curiosity — was he truly that bored?

Chu Linlang steadied herself, lowered her head to dab at the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief, and said with a nonchalant smile: “Yes, indeed. Why? Is Magistrate Situ going to give a red envelope?”

The man across from her half-lowered his eyelids, his tone ambiguous between praise and mockery: “People say that the mistress of the Zhou household is like a lioness from the east, fierce enough to drown a man in a sea of vinegar — yet it seems that is not quite so…”

Chu Linlang forced out a dry laugh and said without much feeling: “Pay no mind to people’s idle chatter. Sui’an has always been able to make his own decisions at home.”

Situ Sheng stood and looked down at Chu Linlang from above, saying lightly: “Indeed. Rumor is greatly mistaken. Madam Chu, you are admirably virtuous — always thinking of Magistrate Zhou’s welfare. The household will surely enjoy harmony between wife and concubine in the future, branching out into many descendants, and your halls will be filled with grandchildren before long…”

Chu Linlang looked up at him in disbelief, and finally confirmed — this vile creature was mocking her for being childless. Even if the Zhou household were filled with grandchildren in the future, what would it have to do with her, a woman of a different surname who bore no children?

This inexplicably spiteful and icy mockery was jabbing at her for putting on a pretense of virtue while drowning inwardly in a sea of vinegar.

Hold on — she was the one holding the secret of something he could not make known, and she had not so much as made him kneel and call her his benefactress. That alone was generous enough. And he still dared to be coldly contemptuous and sarcastic?

Chu Linlang was truly so furious her lungs were nearly pushed out her throat. She imitated his lofty, solitary manner, arched a brow, and retorted: “And this matter of harmony in the inner chambers — how would a bachelor understand it? If Magistrate Situ envies it, you too ought to take a wife and concubines soon. Otherwise I fear people will mutter behind your back, saying you have no interest in women and harbor some shameful secret ailment…”

Seeing her shed the pretense of gentle compliance and bare her biting teeth, Situ Sheng’s smile slowly bloomed — yet his eyes held no trace of warmth. His thick brows arched slightly, and he returned a line with flagrant rudeness: “Whether I have a secret ailment or not — I am afraid Madam will never have the chance to find out!”

Accompanied by a crack of thunder from above, Chu Linlang felt as if she had swallowed an enormous sheet of paper — completely choked, unable to breathe.

She suspected she had just been grossly and rudely propositioned! To think that for all his status as the noble mentor of an imperial prince, he dared to make such a crude and unseemly remark to a married woman!

Situ Sheng had indulged his sharp tongue and seemed to find it somewhat improper himself. Without waiting for Chu Linlang to strike back, he rose first and went to check if the rain had stopped.

Chu Linlang was so choked she truly could not breathe. Who in all the world wanted to know? Did he think he had a big gold bar tucked in his robe?

She was on the verge of charging after him to get in two more words, but when she caught sight of Situ Sheng’s tall and broad back, she suddenly froze…

When he had dismounted earlier, one stretch of his back had been soaked through. Now with his spring robe wet and clinging tightly to his solid, wide back, the old pale shirt clung to his skin like thin paper, and through it, faintly visible on his back, was a birthmark the shape of the character for eight — crimson red…

That birthmark… why did it feel so familiar? She seemed to have seen it on someone before?

At that very moment, Situ Sheng turned his head — and found Chu Linlang staring at him in a daze. Their eyes met, yet she did not look away, seeming lost in some train of thought…

Before he could dwell on it, he took the dry cloak his manservant handed him and draped it over his shoulders, concealing his back.

He seemed not to have noticed that his back had given away something he wished to keep hidden. He simply saw that the rain had lessened, and spoke to Chu Linlang in a temperate tone: “Madam Chu, we may board the carriage now.”

Situ Sheng shifted his mood swiftly, as though the one who had just said something sharp and unkind was someone else entirely.

Chu Linlang no longer had the heart to bicker with him — her mind was full of troubling thoughts as she climbed into the carriage.

When she had settled into her seat, she could not help but lift the carriage curtain and steal a look at the man riding on horseback ahead.

Situ Sheng was far too handsome — tall and striking, with an elegance that made him impossible to forget.

But if his figure were just a little slimmer, his muscles just a little less developed, and his eyes — when he looked at you — a little fiercer in their glaring…

Then he would bear some resemblance to someone from Chu Linlang’s gradually fading memories — a person from long ago…

These two people, who had nothing to connect them, were suddenly linked by that unique birthmark in the shape of the character for eight.

Chu Linlang gazed at him absently, but the moment he happened to glance back, poised to meet her eyes, she hastily dropped the carriage curtain.

Once the connection was drawn, the familiar brow and eyes seemed to slowly overlap, and the memories she had not thought of in so long seemed to surge up in a rush of warmth.

Could it really be… could he truly be her old neighbor — that boy who, when he flew into a fury, was like a madman?

But what was that boy’s surname again? Oh right, it was Wen. Back then she had given him a nickname, calling him “plague-child” — certainly not a distinctive surname like Situ!

And besides, he was the Imperial Prince’s young mentor! Every detail of his background before entering the palace had been scrutinized and verified.

He — Situ Sheng — was a native of Longxian in the Northern City region, thousands of miles from Jiangkou.

She had once heard Zhou Sui’an say that Master Situ had claimed to come from a poor family, that his widowed mother had raised him through taking in laundry, and that he had passed the imperial examinations through her efforts alone. It was said his mother had suffered a frail life and had only just passed away earlier in the year.

But that plague-child’s mad mother… had passed away much, much earlier!

If he truly was an old acquaintance from her hometown, he must have concealed his background and changed his very identity — even altering his own name.

The birthmark was far too distinctive. Chu Linlang felt she could not be mistaken.

She and the plague-child had shared little in the way of goodwill in their youth. Chu Linlang even suspected that Situ Sheng had recognized her long ago, which was why, ever since their reunion, he had been finding fault with her at every turn.

Remembering how that boy had thrown rocks at people when he was young and fierce, Chu Linlang suddenly gave a shudder…

When she returned home, she could hardly eat. She had Xia He bring the freshly made osmanthus wine and drank two great bowlfuls.

Dongxue, seeing Xia He drinking so quickly, hurried to bring a plate of fruits so she could eat something to temper it. Osmanthus wine was sweet and gentle, but too much could still go to one’s head — especially the way their eldest mistress was drinking.

Chu Linlang set down her cup and suddenly asked Xia He: “Hey, do you still remember the madwoman who lived next door to our family back in Jiangkou?”