The willow branches swayed lazily in the evening breeze.
Most of the boats selling lotus seedpods had already packed up and left. Only two or three remained drifting along the riverbank, rocking gently on the water.
By the time Gu Jinzhao returned from Great Ci’en Temple, night had already settled thickly over the city.
As Qing Pu helped her down from the carriage, the gatekeeper hurried forward holding a letter.
“Miss, this was delivered this afternoon. No calling card was left. The messenger only said it was for your eyes alone.”
The envelope was made of ordinary mulberry paper. There was no seal on the flap and no signature.
Gu Jinzhao accepted it and opened it.
Inside was only a folded sheet of plain stationery. When she unfolded it, only a few lines had been written:
“Our residence recently acquired several fine koi, red and white in color and of decent quality. I have prepared a pot of tea and would like to invite Miss Gu to visit tomorrow to admire the fish. We may also discuss that small matter you asked about last time.
Respectfully,
Zhou Yun.”
Gu Jinzhao read the letter standing at the entrance.
Her expression barely changed, but Qing Pu noticed that when she folded the paper and slid it back into the envelope, she pressed the creases harder than usual.
“Miss,” Qing Pu asked softly, “will you go?”
Gu Jinzhao did not answer immediately.
Instead, she looked up at the sky.
The sun had already disappeared behind the western hills. Only streaks of crimson and pale violet remained, mingling together like rouge water spilled across a sheet of xuan paper.
In the distance, the watchman’s clapper sounded from the mouth of an alley, announcing the exact hour of You.
“I’ll go,” she said.
“It’s not my first time.”
The following afternoon, Gu Jinzhao brought Qing Pu and attended the invitation.
Ever since discovering that gilt-cloud lacquer box in the study of the Northern Pacifying Marquis Mansion, one question had lingered in her mind.
How much did Zhou Yun actually know?
Did she merely know enough to pass messages and deliver bows on Ji Minzhong’s behalf?
Or did she understand what lay behind every word she carried?
If it was only the former, then Zhou Yun was merely a chess piece being used without realizing it.
But if it was the latter, then the connection between the Northern Pacifying Marquis Mansion and Ji Minzhong ran far deeper than Gu Jinzhao had originally suspected.
This was not something she could determine through guesswork.
Only a face-to-face conversation could reveal the truth.
Zhou Yun received her in a side courtyard of the Northern Pacifying Marquis Mansion.
This time it was not the main reception hall but a small waterside pavilion.
The carved windows overlooked a modest pond.
Several koi indeed swam within, red and white bodies gliding leisurely among green water plants.
A pomegranate tree beside the pond was in full bloom.
Clusters of fiery blossoms crowded the branches. Occasionally a flower would fall onto the water, where fish nibbled at it gently.
Aloeswood incense burned inside the pavilion.
Its fragrance was elegant and restrained.
Two plates of pastries and a pot of freshly brewed maojian tea sat on the table.
A tabby cat dozed on the windowsill, its tail lazily sweeping across the lattice.
Today Zhou Yun wore a goose-yellow gauze jacket embroidered with subtle patterns.
A simple silver step-shake ornament adorned her hair.
Compared to her appearance in the apricot grove, she seemed considerably more restrained.
Smiling, she welcomed Gu Jinzhao to sit down and personally poured tea.
Her movements were practiced and graceful. Not a single splash disturbed the surface of the tea.
Even her tone was gentler than usual.
“What happened in the apricot grove last time was my fault.”
She pushed a teacup toward Gu Jinzhao and lowered her gaze.
“That child was thoughtless, and the bow wasn’t chosen properly. The more I thought about it afterward, the more improper it seemed. I’ve wanted to find an opportunity to apologize in person.”
Gu Jinzhao lifted the teacup and took a sip.
It was excellent tea.
Fresh and mellow, with a slight bitterness upon entering the mouth.
She set the cup down and let her gaze settle lightly on Zhou Yun’s face.
There was exactly the right amount of remorse in that expression.
Her brows were gentle.
The curve of her lips was perfectly measured.
Had Gu Jinzhao not witnessed her arrogant behavior in Jinyuan and the apricot grove before, she might have believed this was an entirely different person.
“You are too serious, Miss Zhou.”
Gu Jinzhao smiled faintly.
“The matter in the apricot grove happened quite some time ago.”
“I’ve felt guilty ever since.”
Zhou Yun smiled softly and picked up a piece of pastry.
As though speaking casually, she said,
“Speaking of which, Miss Gu seems to have grown quite close to the Changxing Marquis Residence lately. Last time, Lady Gao personally came to fetch you. The old servants in our residence were shocked. None of them had ever seen Lady Gao stand up for someone before. Everyone in the capital says she rarely interferes in other people’s affairs. For her to do that for you… she truly treats you as one of her own.”
The hand holding Gu Jinzhao’s teacup paused ever so slightly.
She heard the hidden test beneath those words.
Zhou Yun was probing.
Probing her standing within the Changxing Marquis Residence.
Probing how far things had progressed between her and Ye Xian.
As she asked the question, Zhou Yun unconsciously rotated the silver bracelet on her wrist.
The movement was so subtle that most people would not have noticed.
But Gu Jinzhao did.
“Lady Gao is simply kindhearted,” she replied calmly.
“I’ve only benefited from an elder’s favor.”
Then she smoothly changed the subject.
Her tone remained warm and gentle.
“Miss Zhou invited me here today. Surely it wasn’t only to admire fish and offer an apology?”
Zhou Yun’s hand paused briefly on the teapot.
Only for an instant.
Then she smiled.
“There is indeed something else.”
After some conversation, Zhou Yun suddenly said:
“Last month I went to Qingfeng Academy to deliver something to my cousin. Near the entrance, I saw someone wearing lotus-purple clothing exactly like the garments Miss Gu often wears. The person was walking too quickly, so I couldn’t see the face clearly. At the time I thought of you and wondered when you had started visiting the academy. But after thinking about it later, it probably wasn’t you, was it?”
Gu Jinzhao’s heart tightened.
The last time she had gone to meet Ji Minzhong at Qingfeng Academy, she had not worn lotus-purple.
But she had indeed been in the northern district that day.
Zhou Yun was baiting her.
Using a vague detail to see whether she would reveal a flaw.
“You must have mistaken someone else,” Gu Jinzhao replied with an easy smile.
Her gaze remained perfectly steady.
“I did go to the northern district last month, but not to the academy. I went to an old stationery shop there to choose an inkstone for my younger brother. Once I finished, I returned home. I don’t even know which direction the academy gates face.”
Zhou Yun nodded in apparent realization and began discussing the stationery shop, mentioning that her cousin also purchased brushes there.
Her smile remained gentle.
But Gu Jinzhao noticed that when she picked up her teacup, her fingers slipped slightly against the porcelain before tightening again.
It was the unconscious adjustment of someone who had relaxed.
She believed the explanation.
At least halfway.
The two women chatted a while longer.
Cosmetics.
Tailors.
Various trivial matters.
Not once did Zhou Yun speak with hidden barbs.
Yet Gu Jinzhao still caught the underlying meaning behind several casual remarks.
The red-and-white koi had been chosen deliberately.
A reminder of the Dragon Gate.
A reminder of the gulf between heaven and earth.
Zhou Yun was reminding her.
And perhaps reminding herself as well.
The tabby cat stretched, leaped from the windowsill, brushed silently against Gu Jinzhao’s skirt, and settled beside Zhou Yun’s feet.
Zhou Yun glanced down at it.
The smile at her lips faded.
When Gu Jinzhao rose to leave, Zhou Yun escorted her to the pavilion entrance.
The shadows of pomegranate blossoms swayed between them, breaking the sunlight into trembling patches of gold.
“Miss Gu.”
Zhou Yun suddenly called after her.
Gu Jinzhao turned around.
Zhou Yun stood inside the doorway, one hand resting on the frame while the other unconsciously gripped the trim of her sleeve.
The silver hair ornament swayed slightly, catching fragments of light.
The carefully maintained expression on her face was gone.
In its place was something more complicated.
Hesitation.
Envy.
A faint trace of unwillingness.
“I’ve known since childhood that I’m not a particularly good person,” Zhou Yun said quietly, as though speaking more to herself than anyone else.
“If I wanted a place in the Northern Pacifying Marquis Mansion, I had to learn how to read people’s expressions. After doing it for so many years, I forgot what my own expression used to look like.”
She paused.
Her gaze drifted beyond Gu Jinzhao’s shoulder toward the pond stained red by the reflection of pomegranate blossoms.
The koi continued swimming lazily, unaware that autumn’s chill would eventually arrive.
“But you’re different.”
“You never learned to watch people’s faces.”
“Back at Jinyuan, when you stood up and contradicted Zhao Jin, I was actually jealous.”
She laughed softly.
“Jealous because you dared.”
“I never did.”
Her gaze returned to Gu Jinzhao.
Her lips moved slightly, as though suppressing something.
Or perhaps unable to suppress it.
“Stop testing me.”
“I’ve already told you everything I can.”
She released her sleeve.
Her fingers curled faintly at her side.
“As for the things I can’t say… no matter how many times you ask, I won’t tell you.”
She fell silent.
The dappled shadows of pomegranate blossoms fragmented her expression.
Her voice dropped so low it was nearly drowned out by the insects around the pond.
“Miss Gu, I know this won’t be pleasant to hear, but I still want to say it.”
She paused again.
As though making a difficult decision.
“Meeting Heir Apparent Ye is a blessing for you.”
“I didn’t understand that before.”
“When we were at Jinyuan, I noticed there was something in your eyes that other young ladies didn’t have.”
“Later, when I saw the way Heir Apparent Ye stood before you…”
Only then did I understand.
As she mentioned him, her gaze drifted to the koi swimming through the green water plants.
The fish glided peacefully, unaware they were trapped inside a small pond.
“Heir Apparent Ye…”
She shook her head abruptly and swallowed the rest of the sentence.
“Just be careful.”
“Not careful of him.”
“Careful of everyone else.”
Gu Jinzhao stopped.
She turned back to look at her.
Standing beneath the pomegranate blossoms, Zhou Yun looked nothing like her usual self.
There was no practiced smile.
No arrogance.
Only something difficult to name.
Like someone standing on one bank of a pond looking at flowers blooming on the opposite shore.
Knowing beautiful things existed there.
Knowing she could never reach them.
“Thank you for the warning, Miss Zhou.”
Gu Jinzhao looked at her.
After a moment of silence, she added sincerely,
“You should take care of yourself too.”
Zhou Yun froze.
Then she smiled.
Not the carefully crafted smile she always wore.
Just a faint, tired smile.
The smile of someone who had finally been seen through and no longer needed to pretend.
As Gu Jinzhao’s carriage rolled homeward, she replayed every word Zhou Yun had spoken.
The fish had been an excuse.
The probing had been the true purpose.
Yet during that brief afternoon sunlight, Zhou Yun had lifted a corner of her mask and revealed something genuine underneath.
Something imperfect.
Something human.
Leaning against the carriage wall, Gu Jinzhao rotated the jade bracelet on her wrist and reassessed Zhou Yun’s place upon the board.
She suddenly remembered what she had once told Ye Xian in a side room of the Censorate:
“I’m not going alone.”
At the time, she had been thinking of her grandmother.
Of Qing Pu.
Of the things she could hold onto with her own hands.
But now…
Her certainty that she was not alone also came from someone standing behind another beaded curtain.
Someone leaving a path of retreat for her where she could not see it.
At this very moment, that person was probably sitting behind the window of the Censorate facing the rear gate of the Ministry of Personnel, reviewing documents while waiting for news from her.
She looked at the bracelet for a long moment.
Then she lifted the carriage curtain.
“Qing Pu.”
“Once we get home, don’t unload everything immediately.”
“Find that Taipu Temple warhorse allocation list again.”
“Bring it to my study.”
Qing Pu acknowledged the instruction without asking questions.
When the carriage turned into the alley where the Gu Family Residence stood, the sky had already grown dark.
The moment Gu Jinzhao stepped down, the gatekeeper approached.
“Someone from the Changxing Marquis Residence came this afternoon. They delivered a jar of loquat syrup and two baskets of newly arrived Dongting Biluochun tea. Everything has already been sent to your courtyard.”
“Did they leave a message?”
“They did.”
“It was Maid Feng.”
“The Marchioness asked me to tell you this: ‘Seasonal changes make the throat dry. Mix the loquat syrup with water and drink a cup morning and evening.'”
Gu Jinzhao simply nodded.
Yet by the time she entered her courtyard, Qing Pu had already arranged the gifts neatly on the table.
The lanterns beneath the eaves swayed gently in the evening breeze.
She picked up the jar and flipped through the accompanying notes.
Recently, the Marquis Residence had sent all sorts of things:
Sweet southern oranges.
Fresh Longjing pastries.
Pickled plums made by Lady Gao.
Pine nut candy from the Marquis Residence kitchen.
Every delivery supposedly came from the Marchioness.
Yet Maid Feng occasionally let something slip.
“The Heir Apparent said these oranges were too sour, so he told me to pick sweeter ones.”
“The Heir Apparent said this tea was better than the last batch and wanted you to try it.”
…
Standing nearby, Qing Pu looked at the loquat syrup and then at the faint smile tugging at her mistress’s lips.
“Miss,” she said softly, “Maid Feng has probably said ‘The Heir Apparent said…’ eight times out of every ten visits by now.”
“You’re talking too much.”
Gu Jinzhao did not turn around.
She lowered her eyes to hide the smile rising there.
Yet the jar had been sealed tightly.
She spent several attempts carefully lifting the wax paper without damaging it.
When she finally opened it, the sweet fragrance of loquat filled the room.
The entire atmosphere seemed softer.
She prepared a cup and drank it slowly.
The sweetness slid from her tongue down her throat.
It was delicious.
And somehow her mood improved considerably.
The next day, Gu Jinzhao tucked the copied warhorse allocation list into a volume and had Qing Pu deliver it to the Censorate.
When Qing Pu returned, she brought back a packet of sesame candy from the southern district—and several messages.
“Heir Apparent Ye said to remember your loquat syrup morning and evening.”
“And he said that if Miss has no plans tomorrow, you should visit the Marquis Residence.”
“The Marchioness recently acquired two pots of Jian orchids.”
Standing beneath the corridor, Gu Jinzhao held the sesame candy in her hands.
Suddenly she smiled.
Only afterward did she realize she had drifted into thought again.
Even when a kitchen servant passed by and greeted her, she barely noticed.
By mid-June, the capital’s heat felt like a giant steamer.
Inside a private room on the second floor of Huifang Teahouse, two alleys away from the Changxing Marquis Residence, Xu Jingting sat frowning at the blazing sun outside.
“If we’re checking accounts, we’re checking accounts.”
“Why did you have to make me run errands at noon?”
He fanned himself furiously.
The tea before him had already been refilled twice.
Yet sweat still poured down his forehead.
Across from him sat Ye Xian, who had just come from the Censorate.
He wore an exceptionally thin dark-blue gauze robe.
His collar remained perfectly neat.
Not a drop of sweat could be seen on him.
It was as though the scorching June heat simply did not affect him.
A copied archive borrowed from the Ministry of Justice lay in his hands as he turned the pages one by one.
“You could have chosen not to go.”
He did not even look up.
“If I didn’t go, who would watch Ji family’s steward?”
Xu Jingting lowered his voice.
The playful grin disappeared from most of his face.
“Wu An showed up at Tongzhou Wharf two days ago. He was receiving a shipment from Yangzhou. I had people follow it. The goods never entered the Ji Residence.”
“They made a detour.”
“They were delivered to a private residence near Qingfeng Academy.”
He paused.
“There’s something else.”
“Zhao Jin left the Northern Pacifying Marquis Mansion the day before yesterday.”
“He went to the rear gate of the Ministry of Personnel.”
“He stayed briefly and then left.”
“My people asked whether he’d recovered from his illness.”
“He claimed he was merely passing by.”
“‘Passing by the rear gate of the Ministry of Personnel.'”
Ye Xian’s voice remained calm.
Yet a trace of mockery appeared.
“Again.”
“The last time Ji Minzhong returned from the south, Zhao Jin also happened to be passing by.”
“Our Young Marquis Zhao probably couldn’t find north if his life depended on it.”
“He only ever takes the same road.”
…
After discussing the forged land transfers and the evidence connecting Ji Minzhong and Zhao Heng, the atmosphere grew serious.
Eventually Xu Jingting asked:
“What are you planning to do next?”
“Impeach him?”
“No.”
Ye Xian gathered the documents into a blue cloth pouch.
He stood.
Sunlight streamed through the window lattice and settled upon his shoulder.
“Ji Minzhong has spent more than ten years building influence in court.”
“A single impeachment memorial won’t bring him down.”
“As long as he still has breath in his body, he’ll strike back.”
“Before impeaching him, I need to cut off his escape routes.”
“His escape route isn’t the Ministry of Personnel.”
“It’s the Northern Pacifying Marquis Mansion.”
…
Xu Jingting listened quietly.
Then, after a long pause, he spoke again.
“Ye Xian.”
This time he used his full name.
A rare thing.
Usually it was “Brother Xian,” “A-Xian,” or “Heir Apparent.”
Calling him by name felt almost solemn.
“You told me before that Miss Gu copied a Heart Sutra for you and offered it at the Sutra Repository.”
Ye Xian remained motionless.
“It sounded to me like she was praying for peace of mind on your behalf.”
Xu Jingting’s voice softened.
“So tell me.”
“Have you found any peace yourself?”
For a long time, Ye Xian said nothing.
The cicadas outside screamed endlessly.
His silhouette stood against the light.
His shoulders were tight.
Not deliberately.
Simply from carrying that tension for so many years that he no longer remembered how to let it go.
Finally, after what felt like forever, he spoke.
“She wrote four words.”
His voice was barely audible.
“So softly it seemed he feared disturbing something.”
“May you live in lasting peace.”
When he spoke those four words, something in his voice seemed to empty out.
“I used to be someone who never had to ask for anything.”
“Everything was already mine.”
“Now I still have everything.”
“Authority.”
“A title.”
“A Changxing Marquis Residence that hasn’t collapsed.”
His gaze drifted toward the imperial city beyond the shimmering heat.
“But peace?”
A faint curve touched his lips.
It wasn’t quite a smile.
“I’ve nearly forgotten how to write those two characters.”
“Yet she still remembered to write them for me.”
He paused.
A cicada outside abruptly fell silent.
“I never thought someone would pull me back from that road.”
Then he lowered his hand and resumed his usual indifferent tone.
“There’s no need to think about that now.”
“Let’s go.”
“I still have two censors to meet this afternoon.”
“And tonight I need to visit my mother.”
Xu Jingting understood immediately.
That had been the closest thing to a confession Ye Xian would ever offer.
He asked no further questions.
Instead, he picked up his fan and lifted the bamboo curtain for him.
The two men descended the teahouse stairs one after another.
Heat rushed toward them.
The cicadas still screamed.
Dust rose from Chang’an Street beneath the blazing sun.
Suddenly Xu Jingting remembered something.
“By the way.”
“You stayed up late reviewing documents again last night.”
“Did you take your medicine before leaving this morning?”
“I did.”
“The new prescription from the Imperial Medical Bureau?”
“The old one.”
Ye Xian paused.
“The new one doesn’t work.”
His tone remained flat.
Xu Jingting merely nodded and let the matter drop.
The two walked side by side down Chang’an Street.
Vendors shouted about iced plum soup.
Children ran past on bamboo hobby horses.
Their laughter was swallowed by the cicadas and the summer heat.
Ye Xian’s pace remained steady.
Xu Jingting walked half a step behind him before suddenly speaking again.
“When the case is over, let’s go to the southern district.”
“Not for wine.”
“A new dessert shop opened.”
“The osmanthus rice dumplings are excellent.”
“Not overly sweet.”
Ye Xian glanced sideways at him.
He said nothing.
But neither did he refuse.
Xu Jingting smiled.
He knew that meant yes.
When they reached the gates of the Censorate, Ye Xian suddenly stopped.
“Jingting.”
“Hm?”
“While your men watch Wu An, assign two others to keep an eye on the alleys in front of and behind the Gu Residence.”
“They don’t need to stay close.”
“Just watch from outside.”
“If she leaves, follow her.”
“And don’t let her notice.”
Xu Jingting looked at him.
“Alright,” he said.
“I’ll arrange it.”