Chapter 17

The wind grew stronger, and the sun gradually retreated behind the clouds. Seeing the sky turn overcast, Pei Muheng rose to head back. Xu Yunqi followed silently behind him.

This time, they did not ride, but walked unhurriedly back.

Xu Yunqi clutched the small cloth pouch and looked at the man ahead. He wore a dark blue robe, tall and straight, his bearing a perfect blend of restraint and elegance—like snow on a high peak, or a pine on a snowy mountain—untouchable.

She kept her distance, lost in her own quiet joy. When she got back, she would find some plum wine and soak the snake in it—it would make the finest medicinal liquor. If her grandfather were still alive, it would ease his rheumatism and cure his old leg pains… But at the thought of her grandfather, still missing without a trace, a shadow fell over her heart.

During the two months Pei Muheng had been away in Yangzhou, she had used visiting her family as an excuse and traveled to Yanzhou and Tongzhou herself—but found nothing.

Shopkeeper Hu said that after more than a year, her grandfather was likely no longer alive.

The wind brushed against her eyes, leaving behind a lingering unease she could not shake.

Pei Muheng looked back and saw his wife following behind like a child who had done something wrong, her spirits low.

He suddenly found it amusing. He stopped and looked at her. “Aren’t you afraid?”

Xu Yunqi halted, pushing aside her worries, and blinked. “I’m not afraid. Are you?” she shot back.

Pei Muheng had no words.

“You’ve caught snakes before?”

A smile returned to Xu Yunqi’s face. She nodded. “I have. When I was young, I followed my grandfather up mountains and down rivers—I’ve even caught fish.”

Pei Muheng understood.

A girl raised in the countryside had a certain tenacity.

“What did you use to catch it?”

“This?” Xu Yunqi pulled out the silver needle hidden beneath her sleeve and explained patiently: “It’s coated with a medicated wine that can paralyze small snakes.”

“I see.”

Pei Muheng was genuinely surprised by his wife’s skills. He was gaining a new understanding of her.

She was not as fragile as she appeared—on the contrary, she had some ability to protect herself. As her husband, he should be pleased.

“Do you need my help?” He was still worried the snake might bite her.

Recalling his aversion to touch, Xu Yunqi smiled and shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

Pei Muheng did not insist.

After the little incident was resolved, they mounted their horses and rode back to the traveling palace.

That night, they went to bed early, but Pei Muheng did not touch her. Xu Yunqi assumed he had been put off by her bare-handed snake-catching.

—

The next morning, Pei Muheng emerged in his court robes. As he stepped over the threshold, he saw a guard waiting at the bottom of the steps, looking hesitant.

“What is it?”

The guard, clearly indignant, reported: “Sir, a few days ago, Miss Yinxing told me that Miss Liu of the Dali Temple blocked the young mistress’s path and intended her harm.”

Pei Muheng’s face turned frosty. He paused for a moment, said nothing, and walked directly toward Qiankun Hall.

When he arrived, he learned that Yan Shaoling had returned.

The young master presented the inventory of his raids to the Emperor, his face brimming with vigour.

Spotting Pei Muheng, Yan Shaoling clasped his hands and gave him a bold grin.

The Emperor did not immediately read the memorial. Instead, he looked at Yan Shaoling, who had travelled day and night, and smiled warmly:

“You’ve done well this time. How shall I reward you?”

Yan Shaoling grinned broadly, rubbing the back of his head. “If Your Majesty truly wishes to reward me, why not give me a wife of my choosing?”

The Emperor snorted and did not take the bait. “You’re tired—go rest. Come to Qiankun Hall for dinner tonight.”

Yan Shaoling left, looking deflated.

Once he was gone, the Emperor opened the memorial, scanned it, and his expression grew grave.

“Look—small-time merchants have embezzled this much silver. This is no accident. The case requires further investigation. Who do you think should go to Jinzhou?”

Yan Ping stroked his beard, considering. Pei Muheng stepped forward with a smile:

“Grandfather, among the accompanying officials, we have Grand Secretary Xiao of the Ministry of Justice and Chief Justice Liu. Since Jinzhou is close, it should be someone steady. Grand Secretary Xiao is older and not suited for travel—perhaps Chief Justice Liu should go in person.”

Prince Qin’s trap for the Crown Prince was already set; a scapegoat was needed. Miss Liu relied on her father’s position as Chief Justice—and removing one of Prince Qin’s arms would also serve to avenge his wife.

Yan Ping glanced at Pei Muheng. He too had been considering how best to tidy up Prince Qin’s loose ends and who to push forward. Pei Muheng had made the choice for him. He followed the lead: “Your Majesty, smuggling gunpowder is no small crime. Chief Justice Liu is the most suitable choice.”

The Emperor agreed.

That night, Yan Shaoling tossed two severed heads onto the Great Wu envoys’ negotiation table, arrogant and unbridled:

“You tried to play your little tricks behind our backs—did you think the Great Jin would be so easily fooled? Let me tell you: bring the warhorses honestly, or we’ll cut off your tea, salt, and silk—let’s see what your grassland nomads will eat and wear!”

Raw silk, besides being used for noblemen’s clothing, could be woven into soft armour worn beneath steel plate, capable of stopping over a dozen arrows—a vital piece of equipment for cavalry. The Great Wu’s Third Prince, seeing his scheme had failed, felt his heart sink. In the subsequent negotiations, his position crumbled, and the Great Jin held him firmly in check.

The old fox was still the sharper one. The Emperor forged a ten-year agreement with the Great Wu, while secretly backing the Khan’s younger brother with certain concessions to sow discord—effectively stabilizing the border situation.

As the negotiations drew to a close, the Emperor held his birthday banquet on the tenth day of the fourth month—both to celebrate his sixty-second birthday and to see off the envoys.

That night, Yongning Palace blazed with lanterns, cups clinking in endless toasts.

Halfway through the feast, the Emperor, having drunk more than his courtiers had urged on him, felt unwell and retired to his bedchamber. He leaned back in his chair and asked Liu Xiwen:

“Where is Xun’er?”

Liu Xiwen took the hangover soup from an attendant, set it before the Emperor, and replied: “During the martial competition with the envoys, the Twelfth Prince’s leg injury worsened. After drinking a few cups, the pain grew severe, so he withdrew early.”

The Emperor pressed his forehead, his eyelids drooping, saying nothing.

He dozed briefly, then was roused by urgent footsteps outside. Opening his eyes, he saw General Yang Yun of the Imperial Guard enter, still in his armour, his face taut. He knelt on one knee:

“Your Majesty, there has been an incident in the capital.”

The Emperor sat up abruptly. “What happened?”

Yang Yun reported quickly: “An explosion at a villa near Ci’en Temple in Gongxi Ward, caused by stored gunpowder.”

The Emperor’s temple twitched. “What did you say!”

Ci’en Temple was an imperial temple built by imperial decree to house the spirit tablet of the late Empress, allowing the people to offer incense and share in her blessings. The late Empress had died young, when the Crown Prince was still a child. The Emperor often dreamt of his first wife fretting over their son, so he had granted her the villas near Ci’en Temple, allowing the Crown Prince to stay there several days each month to offer sacrifices. Since then, the Empress had stopped appearing in his dreams, and the Emperor slept peacefully.

That area had always been the Crown Prince’s private property; the Emperor had never interfered.

In recent years, a few had secretly reported that the Crown Prince was keeping dancing girls there. The Emperor had warned him a few times, thinking he had reformed—never expecting he would dare stockpile gunpowder.

What was he planning?

A surge of fury rose to his brow. The Emperor’s gaze sharpened. “What exactly happened? Speak clearly!”

Yang Yun said: “In the earlier Tongzhou granary case, Tongzhou Prefect Chen Mingshan, acting on the Crown Prince’s orders, had embezzled grain for profit. Most of it was sold on the market, but a small portion went missing. The Censorate has been tracking its whereabouts and finally traced it to Ci’en Temple. It turns out the Crown Prince had not only hidden his ill-gotten wealth there, but had also secretly stored weapons and gunpowder. At noon today, a fire broke out there, triggering an explosion that also damaged nearby homes.”

“Grand Secretary Xun immediately sealed off the area and put out the fire. But the trouble is, rumours are spreading through the city that the Crown Prince is plotting rebellion.”

The villas near Ci’en Temple in Jingxi Ward lay on the Emperor’s必经 route back to the capital. If gunpowder had been planted there, the Emperor would have had no escape.

“I have just received an eight-hundred-li urgent dispatch from Grand Secretary Xun. Please decide, Your Majesty!”

Yang Yun raised the memorial from Xun Yunhe above his head and presented it to the Emperor.

The aged Emperor collapsed back into his chair, his eyes staring vacantly at the document. For a long time, he said nothing.

Liu Xiwen grew anxious. “Your Majesty, the capital may be in turmoil—you must decide quickly!”

With the gunpowder explosion, the Crown Prince’s crimes could no longer be concealed. And with the Emperor away on tour, the Crown Prince might resort to desperate measures.

The Emperor’s gaze lowered. His weathered face—usually so commanding—was etched with fatigue and defeat. But he was still the sovereign of a vast empire. He soon gathered himself and sat upright behind the desk. “Yang Yun, hear my command.”

“I am here!”

“Take five thousand elite troops and secure the traveling palace immediately. Above all, do not alarm the envoys!”

“I obey!”

“Liu Xiwen, draft the decree. Summon the Twelfth Prince, Pei Xun…” He paused, remembering Pei Xun’s injury, then thought of who among his sons and grandsons could bear the weight—and thought of Pei Muheng. His gaze hardened. “Summon the Seventh Imperial Grandson and confer upon him the title of Prince Zhaoming. He shall carry my imperial edict to the Yanzhou garrison, mobilize troops, proceed to the capital, and await my return!”

“I obey!”

“Furthermore, the Duke of Wen shall remain to attend to the envoys. All other princes and ministers are to be summoned to Qiankun Hall for deliberations!”

“I shall see to it at once!”

Soon, armoured imperial guards moved silently through the traveling palace, seizing all key positions. The ladies were ordered back to their quarters; ministers and imperial clan members were all escorted to Qiankun Hall.

The Duke of Wen, hearing the commotion, was alarmed. To prevent leaks, he spent the night at the embassy, carousing with the envoys until dawn—but that is another story.

Led by Prince Qin, the princes and ministers arrived one by one at Qiankun Hall. Prince Qin, knowing full well what was happening, feigned drunkenness and slumped against a eunuch, barely conscious.

Xiao Yu, unaware of the truth, exchanged glances with the other ministers—all were anxious and uneasy.

Only Yan Ping stood at the front in his crimson robe, silent and unmoving.

As Pei Muheng left on his mission, he met the eunuchs carrying the injured Twelfth Prince into the hall. Uncle and nephew exchanged a glance, both with complex expressions. Pei Xun, steadied by attendants, reached out and patted Pei Muheng’s shoulder. “Travel safely,” he said gently.

Pei Muheng cast a calm look at Prince Qin and the others, grasped the tiger tally, strode through the crowd, descended the steps, mounted his horse in the dark, and galloped toward Yanzhou.

A moment later, the Emperor summoned everyone into the hall. He had changed into a bright yellow dragon robe and sat silently behind the desk. The sudden upheaval on his birthday was a heavy blow.

At first, the rage rose so fiercely he tasted blood in his mouth. But as he cooled, he narrowed his eyes at Prince Qin and Prince Chen, suspicion lurking beneath.

Both princes were flushed with drink, wearing expressions of bewildered innocence.

Soon, the silence was broken by sobbing.

The Imperial Grandson, dragged in and kneeling before the steps, wailed to the hall: “Grandfather! Father would never betray you! This must be a plot by traitors—you must investigate and clear his name!”

The Seventh Prince, of Prince Qin’s faction, turned and shouted toward the door: “What proof do you have that the Crown Prince is innocent?”

From outside, the Imperial Grandson screamed: “I am the proof! Father left me here to attend on Grandfather—that is the greatest loyalty he could show!”

Fearing the Emperor might be swayed, the Seventh Prince retorted: “Bah! You have the nerve to talk nonsense! The Crown Prince’s ill-gotten wealth was all hidden at Ci’en Temple. Last time Father confined him, he nursed a grudge—now, while Father is away on tour, he’s finally acted. He must have planted gunpowder near the West Gate to kill us all when the procession returns! How vile!”

He fell to his knees in the hall, red-eyed and impassioned: “Father, privately stockpiling weapons is treason! I beg you to investigate the Crown Prince severely and make an example of him!”

Xiao Yu, hearing the Seventh Prince condemn the Crown Prince with such finality, interjected calmly: “Seventh Prince, we cannot jump to conclusions before the facts are clear.” As Minister of Justice, Xiao Yu spoke from evidence.

The Emperor paid them no heed. He gazed silently into the night sky.

—

At midnight, thunder rumbled. Pei Muheng reached the Yanzhou camp in a downpour. With the Emperor’s handwritten edict and tiger tally, he swiftly took command, mobilised troops overnight, and marched to the capital’s outskirts to cover the Emperor’s return.

On the road, a guard asked him: “The Crown Prince can’t escape this time, can he?”

Pei Muheng gazed at the capital emerging in the dawn light, his expression cold.

He could not escape.

And neither would Prince Qin.

—

The next morning, the Duke of Wen saw the envoys off at the border. Only after receiving word that Pei Muheng was safe did the Emperor set out for the capital.

The return journey was faster—they departed before dawn and reached the capital’s outskirts by evening. The rapid pace made the carriages rattle fiercely, and the ladies struggled. Pei Mushan spent the journey caring for her mother. Xu Yunqi rode alone, her heart untroubled—nothing ever weighed on her—and used the time to finish a set of rouge for Pei Mushan.

At the West Gate, dusk was falling, banners filling the sky. All the ministers who had remained in the capital were waiting outside the gate.

Pei Mushan poked her head out from the carriage ahead and shouted: “Sister-in-law, look at Brother! He looks so handsome in armour!”

Those words drew the attention of countless young ladies along the road. Before Xu Yunqi could react, the other carriages stirred; many girls stuck their heads out.

“Wow—it really is Third Young Master!”

“With a man that good-looking, who could ever catch his eye?”

“You’re dreaming—Third Young Master doesn’t dwell in the mortal world. What would he know of romance?”

“Ahem, may I remind you—the Third Young Master is already married…”

After an awkward silence, they dropped the topic in disappointment.

“Oh, is that Grand Secretary Xun standing beside him?”

“Indeed. Grand Secretary Xun was left to guard the capital—he’s deeply trusted.”

“His high rank aside—did you know that since marrying Lady Xun, he has never taken a concubine? All these years, he’s remained devoted to his wife—a model for the capital’s elite. Sister Yunling is so lucky to have such a father…”

Hearing the chatter about Pei Muheng, Yinxing lifted the curtain for Xu Yunqi.

Xu Yunqi held the rouge box and cast a casual glance. Pei Muheng, fully armoured, revealed his flawless face. Torchlight illuminated the area, highlighting his sharp features and dark lashes—like a fine brush painting, not a stroke too many nor too few, beautiful beyond the mortal realm.

He stood holding a spear, with a figure in crimson robes beside him, half-hidden behind the weapon, but with an equally distinguished bearing.

Xu Yunqi withdrew her gaze with a faint smile.

Soon, the ministers bowed and welcomed the Emperor into the city. Pei Muheng and Xun Yunhe mounted and flanked the imperial carriage.

The ladies’ carriages began to move one by one.

Xun Yunhe reined his horse and rode slowly into the gate tunnel. Just then, from the dust and clamour behind, a distant yet clear voice called out:

“Yunqi-jie!”

Hearing that name, Xun Yunhe spun around sharply. His dark eyes, like searchlights, swept through the crowd for the source—but the call seemed to have emerged from a dream of a past life, and vanished soundlessly into the noisy chatter.

Pei Muheng had ridden ahead but noticed Xun Yunhe frozen. He called out: “Teacher!”

Xun Yunhe stiffened, slowly returning to himself.

Pei Muheng saw his face had turned unusually pale. “Are you unwell?” he asked.

Xun Yunhe wiped a faint sweat from his brow and shook his head, resuming his usual smile. “No—I misheard.” He spurred his horse forward to follow the Emperor’s carriage.

On Xu Yunqi’s side, it had been Lady Jiang’s daughter who had called out. From Lady Jiang’s carriage emerged a lively, lovely face—Jiang Yuzhen, Jiang Yuhe’s younger sister. She grinned and waved at Xu Yunqi, then pointed ahead.

Through the misty rain, Xu Yunqi glimpsed a figure in white seated on horseback, still and waiting beneath the city wall for the Jiang family carriage.

It had been so long—she had nearly forgotten what he looked like. She smiled back at Jiang Yuzhen, then let the curtain fall.

As the curtain dropped, Jiang Yuhe, in the distance, slowly rode over and took his place beside his family’s carriage without a sideways glance, escorting his mother home.

After entering the city, Xu Yunqi remembered she needed to buy a jar of good medicinal wine. She sent Old Madam Chen to inform the Princess Consort:

“There’s an apothecary near Bao’an Temple. I need to pick up some herbs for medicinal dishes—it won’t take long. Please ask Her Highness for permission.”

Old Madam Chen did as told. A few days earlier, the Princess Consort had overheard Pei Muheng mention that Xu Yunqi made medicinal cakes—it was only natural she would need herbs. As long as her daughter-in-law served her son wholeheartedly, the Princess Consort would not restrict her. She gave her leave.

Pei Muheng had left two guards to escort his wife. They drove from the main road into a southern lane. After about the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, they reached the street near Bao’an Temple. At the mouth of the lane ahead, a commotion broke out—a crowd of refugees and commoners came fleeing toward them.

“Help!”

“Robbers!”

Sensing danger, the guards quickly steered the carriage aside, intending to turn back.

“Young Mistress—some bandits and ruffians are taking advantage of the Crown Prince’s downfall to loot and plunder. They’ll be looking for easy prey!”

Xu Yunqi lifted the curtain and saw refugees streaming past, with ragged, armed thugs in pursuit. A woman was grabbed and forced to hand over her money and jewelry. The robbers stuffed the loot into bags. The street descended into chaos.

Old Madam Chen hurried onto the driver’s seat. “Turn back now!”

But it was too late. The bandit leader saw that Xu Yunqi’s party was clearly wealthy, gave a signal, and his men swarmed forward.

“Leave your valuables and we’ll let you go.”

The prince’s mansion guards were no pushovers. They released a signal flare and drew their blades to fight.

Steel clashed in a shrill chorus. The driver found an opening and tried to break through the encirclement. The guards fought well, but were outnumbered and trapped.

“Do you know who is in this carriage? Get out of here now, or you’ll die without a grave!”

Xu Yunqi seized her chance and fired silver needles at the approaching thugs, each falling with a thud.

The bandit leader, seeing the disciplined guards, feared stirring up a hornet’s nest and ordered a retreat. But these were scoundrels of every stripe, with all sorts of weapons. As one of them fled, he lit an oil-soaked ball and hurled it directly at Xu Yunqi’s carriage.

At the critical moment, a white-clad figure on horseback charged toward her. As the fireball was about to strike the carriage wall, he swung his blade and deflected it, sending it flying past his shoulder and onto the roadside. A low grunt of pain escaped. When Xu Yunqi lifted the curtain, he sped past, clutching his wounded shoulder—leaving her only a fleeting glimpse of his slender profile.

—

Half an hour later, Xu Yunqi arrived safely at Qinghui Garden. To avoid trouble, the guards kept the ambush quiet. Old Madam Chen busied herself with unpacking, still shaken. Yinxing helped Xu Yunqi change into clean clothes, and mistress and maid sat in the eastern annex sipping tea.

Yinxing had placed the little snake in its jar. Coming out to find Xu Yunqi looking distant, she asked worriedly:

“Mistress, shall I go back to the Xu household and have Madam inquire about Young Master Jiang’s injuries?”

Xu Yunqi’s hands rested on the table. She shook her head. “Don’t.”

Judging by where Jiang Yuhe had appeared, he must have been following her to that area—otherwise he could not have arrived so quickly.

Inquire, visit, entangle endlessly?

Nothing made someone give up more effectively than cold indifference.

Xu Yunqi had never tasted love and did not know what it felt like. But in time, she thought, it would pass.

—

That night, the palace blazed with lights.

Except for the ladies, all civil and military officials and imperial clansmen were assembled in the Hall of Heavenly Worship, awaiting orders—none dared leave without the Emperor’s permission.

Three thousand imperial guards and three thousand secret guards surrounded the hall, allowing no one in or out.

In the imperial study, besides Pei Muheng, who had escorted the Emperor back, only Liu Xiwen, Xun Yunhe, and Elder Zheng, the Minister of Rites, remained.

Ever since returning to the study, the Emperor had not raised his head, his hands pressed to his brow.

Xun Yunhe reported the situation at the Eastern Palace to the Emperor:

“Since the explosion at Ci’en Temple, I have sealed off the surrounding streets. There are over thirty casualties—the situation is grave. Because the Eastern Palace is involved, I obtained the Empress’s consent and, together with her, confined the Crown Prince and his subordinates. Additionally, I have sent the Martial Guard to detain the Yang family. Everything awaits Your Majesty’s judgment once the investigation is complete.”

“Also, the Crown Prince has been pleading to see you.”

The Emperor did not move, pressing his brow. His voice was weary. “Hand this case over to the Three Judicial Offices for thorough investigation. No imperial clan members are to interfere.” He was refusing to see the Crown Prince.

“I obey.” Xun Yunhe bowed.

“All of you withdraw—I need some rest…” The Emperor waved his hand.

Xun Yunhe and Elder Zheng had official duties and left first. Pei Muheng stepped to the imperial desk and presented the tiger tally the Emperor had given him the night before. “Your grandson has deployed the Yanzhou troops to guard the imperial procession. I return the tiger tally to you.”

The Emperor, leaning on his couch, opened his eyes and looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. “Set it down.”

Others would have been loath to part with military power so easily; Pei Muheng had given it up without a second thought.

Pei Muheng withdrew from the study and entered the main hall of the Hall of Heavenly Worship, where all the imperial clan members awaited the Emperor’s orders.

Soon, the Emperor sent word that the civil and military ministers could return to their posts—but were not to leave the palace.

Yan Ping and the others headed back to the Grand Secretariat. Before long, Prince Qin slipped out on the pretext of using the latrine and followed him.

The sky was ink-black. The vast white marble terrace was swept by a desolate wind. Yan Ping strolled slowly down the steps and saw Prince Qin waiting among the bushes beside the terrace.

Yan Ping tucked his hands into his sleeves and looked at him.

Prince Qin smiled ruefully and bowed. “Uncle, the situation is settled. I leave the rest to you.”

Yan Ping replied coolly, returning the bow: “The prince has planned everything well—what need is there for this old man’s scheming?”

Knowing his actions had angered his uncle, Prince Qin hurriedly said: “Uncle, I heard from a eunuch that His Majesty coughed up blood last night. At such a critical moment, how could I not strike? And I also heard His Majesty speak of letting the younger generation gain experience—that’s a hint that he wants you to step aside. Would you simply wait to be replaced?”

Yan Ping looked at him. In the darkness, Prince Qin’s face was obscured by branches. After a long pause, he smiled. “I know what to do. From now on, the prince need do nothing but follow His Majesty’s wishes.”

Prince Qin smiled, bowing once more. “All depends on you, Uncle.”

As Prince Qin left, the smile vanished from Yan Ping’s face. He flicked his sleeves and walked away from the Hall of Heavenly Worship, cold and impassive.

—

Two days later, the situation in the palace had stabilised. The Censorate and Minister of Justice Xiao Yu led the investigation into the Crown Prince’s treason. Officials returned to their posts. It was only then that Pei Muheng found time to leave the palace.

He had not slept in two days. As soon as he boarded his carriage, he closed his eyes to rest. The guard who had escorted Xu Yunqi, having waited patiently, finally had his chance. He slipped into the carriage and knelt, reporting:

“Sir, the day we returned to the capital, the young mistress encountered bandits. I traced them these past two days, found their lair, and rounded them all up…”

Pei Muheng had already received word in the palace. Learning Xu Yunqi was unharmed, he had not asked further. But seeing the guard hesitate, he knew there was more. “What else?”

The guard looked up with difficulty. “That day, a young gentleman surnamed Jiang passed by and rescued the young mistress.”

“A gentleman surnamed Jiang?” Pei Muheng straightened slightly, his hands resting on his knees, his expression shifting.

The guard said nervously: “With you confined to the palace these two days, I… I took the liberty of looking into the young mistress’s connection with that Mr. Jiang. I learned that before the marriage decree, she had been betrothed to him.”

The guard finished in one breath, bowing his head to the ground, not daring to look at Pei Muheng’s face.

Pei Muheng was genuinely taken aback.

Admittedly, the news did not please him.

No man wanted to learn that his spouse had ties to another.

But then he considered: they had been married by imperial decree. Before that, he had nearly married Xun Yunling. It was only natural that Xu Yunqi might have been engaged before.

“When was the betrothal?” Pei Muheng’s tone was remarkably calm.

The guard dared a glance, impressed by his composure. “About a year ago. They had been engaged for two months when His Majesty issued the decree. Director Xu dared not defy it—he quietly returned Mr. Jiang’s betrothal certificate, and the Jiang family had to return the young mistress’s certificate as well.”

Pei Muheng fell silent again.

The carriage rolled slowly toward the mansion. He lifted the curtain and gazed out: the sky was dark, and the lamps receded in the drizzling rain. Unbidden, he thought of the girl on the grassland, so cheerfully holding a small snake—so innocent and pure.

Pei Muheng was a rational man.

Because of Xun Yunling, Xu Yunqi had been subjected to cold stares, yet never complained. Now that he knew she had once been betrothed, what right did he have to object?

He returned to the mansion with his usual composure.

As always, he went first to Jinhua Hall to pay his respects to Prince Xi and the Princess Consort. The Princess Consort, having caught a chill on the journey, was suffering another migraine and did not keep him for dinner. Pei Muheng went straight back to Qinghui Garden.

That day, Xu Yunqi had sent Yinxing out to buy a good jar of wine. She had just placed the little snake inside, and mistress and maid were admiring it through the glass jar.

The beaded curtain parted, and a tall figure entered.

Yinxing, always somewhat intimidated by Pei Muheng, quietly curtsied, carried the jar to the side room, and quickly withdrew.

Xu Yunqi clasped her hands before her, standing by the antique shelf, and smiled at him. “Third Master is back—have you eaten?”

This time, his gaze at her was noticeably complex. “No.”

She ordered the meal. Having already eaten, she sat and watched him.

He tried a few dishes, then set down his chopsticks.

Old Madam Chen cleared the table, and husband and wife sat in the main room drinking tea.

The damp, rain-laden breeze drifted in, ruffling the lamplight. They sat in silence.

Xu Yunqi could tell something was different about Pei Muheng today.

They had been married half a year, spending little time together, yet she had learned his habits. Pei Muheng was refined and courteous on the surface, but inside he was indifferent and cold. For his wife, as long as she stayed quietly in the inner quarters, caused no trouble, and bore him heirs, he was satisfied. Everything else, he did not care about.

She felt the same—cooperate, live in mutual respect.

But today, his mood was different. The usual courtesy was gone, replaced by a deeper silence.

He rarely had time for silence with her. The reason he was silent now meant he must have learned of her past with Jiang Yuhe.

That day Jiang Yuhe had saved her, and Pei Muheng’s guards had been present—she knew it would not stay hidden.

Even without love between them, this was still a delicate matter.

Pei Muheng’s silence did not last. Instead, he asked about the snake:

“What are its uses?”

Xu Yunqi explained gently: “It prolongs life, dispels wind, and promotes blood circulation.” There was also a tonic effect, but she did not mention that.

“How long must it be aged?” He sounded genuinely curious.

Under the lamp, she smiled softly, her eyes curving like crescent moons. “Three months before it’s ready, but longer is better.”

Pei Muheng nodded, but his smile did not reach his eyes. “We’ll save some for my father later.”

She quickly agreed. “Good.”

The rain fell like silk, weaving a net over Qinghui Garden, a weight pressing on the heart.

Old Madam Chen, standing outside, fretted. Before Xuanfu, the couple had never slept together. Now back home, after what had happened, she did not know how they would manage tonight.

Pei Muheng glanced at the copper water clock in the corner—it was late. He hoped his wife would invite him to stay, to show she had no divided heart.

And Xu Yunqi, too, glanced at the darkening sky. Everything had been fine at the traveling palace. Since Pei Muheng had not offered to stay, he must be troubled by the matter.

Both were waiting for the other to speak first.