Just as Chu Linlang was silently berating herself for the slip, Situ Sheng drew out the word lazily and asked: “My wife? And who would she be? Tell me — I’d very much like to hear.”

Chu Linlang smiled awkwardly, attempting to smooth things over, and deliberately leaned in to kiss his cheek in an effort to redirect his attention.

But coaxing and flattery proved entirely ineffective today.

Situ Sheng held her face captive between his hands and said with cold deliberateness: “Chu Linlang, I will say this only once. The man you eventually marry may not necessarily be me — but if you want to marry someone else, you’ll have to wait until I’m dead first. As for me — I will take no one as my wife but you for the rest of my life.”

His future was still uncertain, and he had not yet dared to speak lightly of seeking her hand in marriage. Yet if the day came when the dust had settled and his wishes could be fulfilled, he was determined to possess Linlang openly and in full standing — to make her his wife in every proper and legitimate sense.

But if she wanted another man — she would have to wait. She could only turn to someone else after he was dead.

Chu Linlang stared at him as he ground out the words between his teeth, and could plainly hear that this was no flirtatious teasing — it came from a place of genuine conviction.

After a brief, heart-jolting silence, she managed a tearful laugh: “Why say such things? I have no wish to marry anyone in this lifetime. Besides — do you not know I am unable to bear children? What use would there be in taking me as your wife?”

Situ Sheng looked at her steadily: “Naturally, to walk hand in hand, and to grow old together. Do you truly believe I would take a wife only for the sake of producing heirs?”

This was so absurd that one did not even know where to begin refuting it.

What man took a wife without wanting an heir?

And so Chu Linlang gave a bitter smile and said quietly: “Are you saying you’d take me merely as an ornament? Please don’t try to comfort me — I have no need of your pity. And what is this, how did we end up on such a topic?”

Situ Sheng cupped her face in his hands, compelling her to meet his gaze directly, and said with complete certainty: “I am a man who was brought into this world under ill omens. I have never believed myself fit to be any kind of father, and I have absolutely no desire for children. If you intend to use this as a shield to push me away in future, you had better come up with something else.”

It was the first time Chu Linlang had heard him say something so preposterous.

By rights, she ought to do as she had done when rebuffing Xia Qingyun’s proposal — rationally lay out an analysis for Situ Sheng’s benefit. Yet when the words of sensible counsel rose to her lips, not a single one could be spoken aloud.

It was as though she had, in her guilt, been holding onto treasure that did not belong to her, living in constant trepidation that the rightful owner would come to claim it.

And then one day, the treasure itself had apparently lost its senses and declared — with its own voice — that she was entirely welcome to keep it without a troubled conscience. The shock of it was so great that one could only suspect it was a dream.

Chu Linlang reached out and touched his sharply defined face, confirming she was still in this mortal world.

She also understood clearly why Situ Sheng was able to say such things.

Right now, Situ Sheng and she were at the height of their feelings for each other. As Madam He had put it, at a time like this, a man’s words could deceive even himself — they were less trustworthy than a ghost’s ramblings. If you truly believed them, you’d work yourself to exhaustion and heartbreak for nothing.

Chu Linlang was no longer a young woman in the bloom of youth who could throw everything aside upon hearing a man’s promise of lifelong devotion.

She had been, once. But now… it was very hard to be that again.

Chu Linlang’s mind was clicking away like an abacus, and her heart was clear as a mirror — yet the moment she met those eyes of his, capable of seizing a person’s very soul, she lost herself for just a moment.

While she was still in that brief daze, Situ Sheng had already brought his lips down to hers.

Compared to the full union of bodies, this man seemed to prefer this — the consuming, entangling press of lips and tongue.

When the two of them were alone, Situ Sheng would draw her into his arms to linger and kiss time and again, at the slightest opportunity.

Chu Linlang had never known that two people already fully intimate with each other could still be this tenderly enthralled. And this clinging, possessive quality was so deeply at odds with Situ Sheng’s usual cool, composed exterior.

With passion surging, Chu Linlang no longer wished to determine whether his words were true or false. So long as this embrace was warm enough and these kisses sweet enough, that was sufficient. Even if he meant to deceive her, she was willing — let him deceive her just this once.

The entire tub of warm water was ultimately wasted, sloshing across the floor and flowing out past the threshold.

In the end, she — legs turned to water — was wrapped by Situ Sheng in a towel and rolled onto the shop’s plank bed.

The two things capable of bringing Chu Linlang to surrender were Situ Sheng’s inexhaustible stamina, and that rather unyielding plank bed.

Watching him show every sign of still being unsatisfied, Chu Linlang threw up her hands and begged for mercy: “This bed is too hard. If you carry on, my back is going to snap in two!”

As she said this, the flush at the corners of her eyes had not yet faded, and her pouty, aggrieved little scrunch of a nose made her look so irresistibly charming that it sent heat through the whole body.

Situ Sheng was nothing if not accommodating. He scooped her up with both arms, settled her atop him, and said solicitously: “Not to worry — it won’t press against your back at all. Let’s switch positions tonight — you on top. Shall we?”

On… on top? Chu Linlang nearly bit her own tongue.

This man and his brazen ways — where was the moral rectitude befitting a senior official? Where was the masculine pride of a man in full vigor? And as for her — what on earth was she supposed to hold onto for leverage?

And so, behind the fallen bed curtains, another night of scorching wakefulness passed until well after midnight…

In short, this midnight accounting had ended as a thoroughly muddled set of books.

Situ Sheng declared that since he had placed all his silver entirely in her hands from the beginning, whether she earned a profit or took a loss was no concern of his and she need not report it to him.

But on one matter he was firm: the next time Xia Qingyun came looking for her, she was not to see that dark-skinned fellow alone.

Business was business, but she absolutely could not allow Xia Qingyun to let any inappropriate ideas rekindle.

Even without being pressed against the plank bed, Chu Linlang’s back was aching all the same.

For the sake of her back, she had no choice but to agree to the demand of Situ Sheng.

Still curious about the spectacle at the imperial temple, however, she asked: “So is that wandering ghost of a prince actually alive or dead?”

Situ Sheng replied: “The trafficker from back then has been found — but unfortunately, he was discovered hanged in a forest under mysterious circumstances during the second year after abducting the Third Imperial Prince. However, his habit had been to burn a numbered mark onto every child that passed through his hands… I recall you mentioned once that your mother has a similar mark on her body.”

Chu Linlang nodded, puzzled: “Don’t all the abducted children have those? Could it really be that my mother happened to be taken by him as well?”

Situ Sheng said gravely: “Different traffickers naturally used different methods of marking. Your mother may well have been abducted from this side of the capital. I would like to know whether I might speak with her — see if she still recalls anything from those years that might yield some leads.”

Chu Linlang understood that Situ Sheng must have hit a dead end and exhausted all other options, which was why he had thought to question her mother.

Her mother had been abducted when she was only six or seven years old. Although she had been old enough to form memories, she had been terrified at the time, moved from place to place, and so many years had passed since — whatever she retained was unlikely to be much.

But if she could help Situ Sheng in any way, she would do her best.

Then Chu Linlang thought of Liao Jingxuan — he too had a similar burn mark. She wondered whether he had experienced a similar ordeal.

Situ Sheng said: “I asked Liao Jingxuan about it. He said that when he was small, he was accidentally burned by his mother while they were warming themselves at a fire.”

In Situ Sheng’s recollection, Liao Jingxuan was the only son of the Liao family, greatly entrusted with the family’s hopes, and he had never heard Liao Jingxuan speak of any miserable childhood experiences.

To insist, based solely on a scar, that Liao Jingxuan had also been abducted would be far too presumptuous.

One could hardly allow a mother and son to become estranged over a single unremarkable old scar.

Chu Linlang felt a touch embarrassed and let the matter of Liao Jingxuan’s scar drop.

She had only caught a passing glance of it that day, and had not seen it clearly enough to pursue the matter further.

As for how to arrange a meeting between her mother Sun Shi and Situ Sheng, Chu Linlang had to think carefully.

After all, Sun Shi had a number of grievances toward Situ Sheng and did not receive him warmly.

In the end, Chu Linlang used the pretext of expressing gratitude for Situ Sheng’s support and care following her separation, and invited him to the courtyard for a simple meal.

Only, Situ Sheng arrived earlier than the appointed time. The residence Situ Sheng had bought for Linlang was not particularly large, and Linlang had not hired a cook.

Even for this modest little place, Situ Sheng had borrowed a considerable sum of money at the time. When Linlang later wanted to repay him, he had declined, saying there was no logic in paying for something you had bought for someone else with that very person’s own money.

It was just unclear until when he planned to repay it on his threadbare official’s salary.

With a guest in the house, it fell to Linlang herself to take charge of the cooking and prepare some of her signature dishes — that was only proper.

Situ Sheng had originally settled in to sit with Sun Shi, but he was a cold and reserved sort, and with his tall, imposing frame and domineering presence, Sun Shi sat facing this official with visible discomfort.

Situ Sheng was not the kind of person who, like Chu Linlang, could work a room and carry on easy conversation with anyone. Without Linlang there to warm the atmosphere, the parlor quickly grew quiet and chilly.

Seeing Chu Linlang and Xia He busy in the kitchen, Situ Sheng simply rose, said a brief word to Sun Shi, washed his hands, and went to help in the kitchen.

After he rose, a quite audible exhale of relief came from behind him. Clearly his temporary departure allowed Sun Shi to breathe more easily.

Listening to the sound of her daughter chatting with the man coming from the kitchen, Sun Shi could not sit still inside. She crept over and peeked in through the crack in the door.

Linlang, wearing her apron and with her hands on her hips, was eating a piece of freshly cut sweet melon. As she ate, she picked up a piece and offered it to Situ Sheng’s lips.

That man, so severe-faced and possessed of a somewhat icy bearing, had apparently shed all sense of propriety and simply opened his mouth to receive it.

Her daughter then tilted her head, leaned close against his shoulder, and reached up to wipe the corner of his mouth. And Situ Sheng, it seemed, had not had enough — with a slight dip of his head, he bit another piece right out of the one in her daughter’s hand.

Her daughter laughed and thumped his chest. The two of them, talking and laughing together, looked more like a proper husband and wife than many who actually were.

In any case, she had certainly never once seen her former son-in-law step foot in the kitchen to help Linlang.

Even back when that Zhou fellow was only a minor scholar, he had put on the airs of a gentleman who keeps well away from the kitchen. Not only would he not enter the kitchen — even in the dead of winter he had never washed so much as a single garment with his own hands.

They said this Situ Sheng’s official rank was even higher than her former son-in-law’s, and that he was a strict and ruthless official. When interrogating people at the relay station, he had been spattered with blood from head to toe — quite terrifying.

He struck one as a person difficult to approach, with his tall, imposing frame and those long arms that looked capable of great force. If he drank and struck a woman, the bones would likely fracture in just a few blows.

And yet in private he seemed quite easy-going, his speech respectful and measured, his voice gentle and mild.

At the very least, her daughter showed not the slightest fear of him.

It seemed that the scenario she had imagined — Situ Sheng keeping her daughter under his roof when she was at her lowest, using his power and position to coerce her into submission — was quite impossible after all. She knew Linlang’s temperament well. If someone had wronged her, she would quietly file it away in her heart and never yield, not even for a single day — let alone be able to get on with Situ Sheng with this kind of warm, harmonious ease.

With this thought, Sun Shi quietly let out a breath. What she had been most worried about was, in truth, precisely this.

Sun Shi herself had given herself to Chu Huaisheng without a shred of love or affection. Living alongside a merchant whose heart was full of calculations had never produced any true family warmth.

Having been oppressed and wronged her entire life, how could she bear for her daughter to endure the same?

That said, a moment ago when Situ Sheng had sat across from her, she had also stolen a look at him from under lowered eyes.

A man as strikingly handsome as this one surely had no need to resort to any forceful means with women.

Linlang might very well have been drawn in by the overwhelming good looks of this young man, and — knowing full well nothing would come of it — still fallen helplessly head over heels.

After all, her daughter had an eye for attractive men and was quite particular about a man’s appearance — she, as her mother, knew this perfectly well.

Had not Linlang once been attracted by Zhou Sui’an’s fair and delicate features, and run away with him without a second thought?

Sun Shi had no time to observe further, for Linlang had already finished the most important main dishes and was untying her apron, drawing Situ Sheng out with her.

The remaining dishes could be left to Xia He and the others.

Perhaps it was because she had seen Situ Sheng’s unhurried, informal side in private.

When Sun Shi sat down to eat with her daughter and Situ Sheng together, she did not feel the same nervous discomfort as when she had been seated across from him earlier.

She lifted her wine cup first, raised it toward Situ Sheng, and said quietly: “I have heard that you have looked after my daughter considerably. This cup of humble wine is but a small token of gratitude — I hope you will accept it with a smile.”

Situ Sheng immediately rose to his feet, lowered his cup in accordance with the etiquette of a junior deferring to a senior, and shared this cup with Sun Shi.

He had come today not only to look into the trafficking case — his other important purpose was to show his face before Sun Shi, so that she would stop trying to match her daughter with coppersmiths and shop owners.

To that end, he naturally wanted to make a good impression on Sun Shi, and his manner was considerably more genial and humble than usual.

After drinking this cup of wine, Sun Shi mustered her courage and asked him plainly how he intended to treat Linlang.

Linlang had not expected her mother to ask this so suddenly and without warning — there was no stopping it in time.

But Situ Sheng, perfectly composed, explained that he was presently observing a mourning period and it was not appropriate to discuss or formalize any engagement.

However, once the mourning period had concluded, he would most certainly come to ask for Linlang’s hand in marriage — he intended to take her as his principal wife and place her in charge of the household.

After these words, there would customarily have followed the phrase “and continue the family line.”

Situ Sheng, however, omitted this. And Sun Shi’s concern was precisely this point.

Linlang’s stubborn nature was not something that would change in this lifetime. If she could not bear children in the future, and Situ Sheng then took concubines — would her daughter have to seek separation once more?

Chu Linlang also privately thought to herself: these deceptive words of yours, spoken right before my mother — you’ve made a promise this grand, aren’t you afraid you won’t be able to fulfill it?

Sun Shi moved to ask further, but Chu Linlang promptly diverted her with a refill of wine: “Mother, as I told you, Situ Sheng is in the middle of handling a troublesome case and needs your assistance. Do you still remember what the people who abducted you looked like back then?”

This topic brought a shadow of darkness to Sun Shi’s face.

Those memories, though distant, were ones she would never forget as long as she lived.

“I remember when I was separated from my family, the streets were full of lantern light. Then somehow, without warning, the fire leapt up into the sky, and the whole street was full of people screaming and shouting. I was separated from everyone in the crowd.

“Someone grabbed at me and stuffed something into my mouth, then wrapped me entirely in a tattered padded jacket… Later, we were all on a boat together — many women and children, and even infants still in swaddling clothes…”

Situ Sheng listened with eyes slightly narrowed. For the Third Imperial Prince had also been taken precisely during a fire.

The great fire at the lantern festival that year — its flames had leapt into the sky and the scene had been one of utter chaos. More children had gone missing that year than any other…

Could it be that Sun Shi and the Third Imperial Prince had both been abducted from the capital in the same year, during that lantern festival fire?

When Sun Shi mentioned that there had been an infant on the boat, Situ Sheng gently guided her: “Do you remember what color the infant’s swaddling cloth was?”

Sun Shi could not recall that at all. But she did clearly remember something else.

She had been very hungry at the time. The infant being held by the fierce woman must also have been hungry, crying fit to shake the sky.

The fierce woman had grown impatient. Needing urgently to relieve herself, she had impulsively handed the infant off to Sun Shi, who happened to be nearest.

Sun Shi had been very small then; her thin arms trembled as she held the baby.

The baby was hungry too and, squirming free of the swaddling cloth, stretched out one tiny hand and tried to grab at Sun Shi’s face. On that small arm, there gleamed a brilliant golden bracelet.

The bracelet was unmistakably a little golden dragon, its mouth biting its own tail, with a bright golden bead rolling back and forth along the dragon’s body.

But the bracelet was quickly spotted by the woman who returned from the outhouse.

She yanked the bracelet off the infant’s tiny arm with such force that she scraped the flesh of the baby’s chubby little wrist.

At this, Situ Sheng rose abruptly to his feet.

When the Third Imperial Prince had gone missing, every item of clothing and ornament on his person had been recorded in a register, and even committed to paper by a court painter.

He reached to the side and called to Guanqi to bring the register over, then opened it to a particular page and asked Sun Shi: “Madam, is this the style of bracelet you saw?”

Sun Shi looked carefully, then nodded quickly: “It should be — though it’s been so many years, I can’t say for certain it was identical.”

Sun Shi likely did not know that this bracelet was called the “Dragon Devouring Its Tail Bracelet” — it was of a pattern made exclusively within the palace, and only the children of imperial princes could wear such a bracelet.

So the infant wearing the golden bracelet was, in all likelihood, the Third Imperial Prince who had gone missing all those years ago.

What happened to the infant after that, Sun Shi simply could not remember.

A child’s memories were scattered and fragmented to begin with — only vivid fragments remained, everything else entirely lost.

Situ Sheng had now uncovered some new leads, though it was unclear how he intended to follow them from here.

In these past days, accompanying Madam Hua into the palace, Chu Linlang had caught hints from the Empress Dowager’s conversations that His Majesty’s long-standing heartache seemed to have been stirred up again by the spectacle Prince Tai had created at the dharma assembly — and that he had been pressing urgently these past days for those below him to continue pursuing the Third Imperial Prince’s whereabouts.

This being the case, Situ Sheng’s task was truly not an easy one. With a case this old, how could results come quickly?

She could only hope that if the search proved fruitless, His Majesty would not vent his frustration on Situ Sheng.

That day, with the meal satisfying and the wine pleasantly consumed, Situ Sheng — constrained by Sun Shi’s presence — could not linger overlong. After eating and chatting a while, he took his leave and departed.

As he and Guanqi made their way out of the lane, the sky had already turned dark.

Since the distance was short, neither of them had ridden horses — they simply strolled together, drifting along with the evening breeze of late summer.

When they reached a secluded alley entrance, Situ Sheng suddenly felt a rush of air. From an oblique angle, a large hand came lunging toward him without warning.

Situ Sheng ducked by instinct and extended an arm to block. In the space of a few moments, he and the hidden attacker had already exchanged seven or eight moves.

But the attacker’s techniques were identical to his own — a disconcerting mirroring effect, as though facing a reflection of himself. It forced him to step back two paces and ask in a low, focused voice: “Who goes there?”

The person answered in the accent of the capital, carrying a slight trace of an unusual intonation: “I thought you, well fed and warm, would have long forgotten the martial arts…”

Hearing the attacker speak, Situ Sheng’s entire body went rigid as if frozen in place.

He drew in a slow, deep breath, his voice carrying an inexplicable chill: “If you do not come out from the shadows and stop this ghostly skulking, do not blame me for being impolite.”

At Situ Sheng’s threat, the person let out two cold laughs and finally emerged from the darkness, slowly pulling away the cloth wrapping that had concealed his face: “Say it then — how do you intend to be impolite with me?”

When the moonlight fell upon the face of the person opposite him, Situ Sheng was as though struck by an acupoint — rooted to the spot, staring fixedly, unable to move.

Only when the man moved closer did Situ Sheng take a step back, his tone glacially cold: “What kind of place is this? And you dare to come here?”

The man’s eyes and brows were now fully illuminated by the moonlight. Although one could see that he was middle-aged, those dark, intense brows — carrying the fierce, hawk-like quality of an eagle — lent the entire face a sculpted, three-dimensional quality, with a depth and vastness difficult to put into words.

A man who had reached this age no longer needed the bright spirit of a dashing young man of splendid dress and spirited horses. The aura hammered out of him by the years of life was something no youth could ever attain.

A man like this, it was no wonder he had once been called the most beautiful man in the capital, driving countless daughters of noble families to distraction…

But Situ Sheng was no woman, so gazing upon this vaguely familiar handsome face left him unmoved. He continued in the same unyielding tone: “You should not have come here.”

The man surveyed the surrounding streets — both familiar and strange to him — with a complex expression, and let out a cold laugh: “Indeed. Even I had not anticipated returning to this place so soon…”

Before his words had even faded, the young man standing opposite him, who had remained silent all this while, suddenly withdrew a short sword from his sleeve. Swift as a flash of lightning, he pressed it against the man’s throat: “Tell me — where is she?”

Although the sword was at his throat, the man showed not a trace of panic. He merely glanced at the blade and said in a voice tinged with something like nostalgia: “I never expected that Father’s fish-gut sword would end up in your hands…”

“Silence!” Situ Sheng’s eyes blazed with a force of ten thousand catties of suppressed fury. He said coldly: “And you dare to mention him?”

The middle-aged man’s face also turned cold. The expression with which he spoke bore an indescribable resemblance to Situ Sheng: “No matter how unwilling you are, the blood flowing in your veins is mine. You — Yang Jiexing — are the son of Yang Yi, and that is something you cannot deny for this entire lifetime.”

So this person who had come — was none other than Yang Yi, the traitorous general of Great Jin!

As he spoke, Yang Yi deliberately pressed his neck further forward against the blade’s tip — until drops of blood began to bead and seep from the sword’s edge…

Guanqi, standing to one side, watched with eyelids twitching, and seized upon the moment when father and son’s quarrel was growing louder and more heated to interject in a hurry: “At this hour, the city night patrol will be making its rounds — perhaps the two of you might… move somewhere else to argue?”

And it was at this moment that Yang Yi lowered his voice and murmured into Situ Sheng’s ear: “Your mother misses you…”

Just those few words were enough to seize upon Situ Sheng’s greatest vulnerability. He gritted his teeth, then finally sheathed the short sword, and said in a cold voice: “Where is my mother now?”

All had said that Wen Shi, the mad woman, had died. What they did not know was that someone had performed a sleight of hand all those years ago — allowing Wen Shi to feign her death, then quietly spiriting her away.

From that moment on, Situ Sheng found himself unable to escape the power of the man he hated most in this life.