The autumn night was silent, rippling water reflected across Gu Wan’s face and body.
Xie Ci quickly let go.
Gu Wan couldn’t help but laugh — he didn’t need to be so awkward. She patted his shoulder.
The boy’s shoulders had already broadened a lot. Nearly seventeen now, and like all sons of the Xie family, his physique was maturing early. It seemed he would be no exception. His thighs weren’t yet thick enough — well, that would come with more growth and strength.
The thought amused her, and she chuckled to herself. Smiling, she waved: “Come on, let’s go!”
Xie Ci nodded. Outside, faint laughter and chatter drifted in. They needed to get this man out quickly.
The two bound the unconscious man’s hands, feet, and mouth tightly. One lifted his head, the other his legs. Opening the back window, they lowered him into the water with a rope, then dragged him to the dark base of the surrounding wall and moved him there.
In the shadowy room, moonlight shimmered on the water, glinting across their hands. Xie Ci looked up at Gu Wan. With her at his side, he felt much better.
Truly, one person’s plan is short; two people’s plan is long. He couldn’t imagine facing the vast road ahead alone.
“Hurry, hurry.”
“Alright.”
Xie Ci and Gu Wan moved quickly, binding the man and lowering him down. As he hit the water, he began to stir awake, but it didn’t matter — he was tied securely, mouth gagged as well.
After disposing of him, the two returned and managed to subdue his companions too, without disturbing the courtesans. They worked until past midnight. Even the hidden mansion grew quiet; both courtesans and patrons had fallen asleep in the waterside pavilions.
These deputy soldiers were libertines — disappearing for a day or two, even three, was perfectly normal. When they went out to indulge, they usually chose days without important duties or when they were off rotation.
This was exactly the window Xie Ci and Gu Wan needed.
Back at the small house, Xie Ci dragged the captives into the east wing to interrogate them, while Gu Wan swiftly arranged dozens of small dishes she had bought earlier, preparing powders for disguise. She had once trained hard in mimicry makeup, and with today’s carefully gathered tools, she could manage.
By the time Xie Ci finished questioning and came out, Gu Wan had already blended the powders neatly in the dishes. She selected two whose builds and facial shapes matched best, studied them carefully, and quickly applied makeup to their faces and foreheads.
Focused and busy until dawn, she finally finished. They stripped the guards of their armor and put it on themselves. At first light, they climbed back over the wall into the pavilion. When the sky brightened and people began leaving, they yawned, opened the pavilion door, and walked out through the main gate openly.
Early morning — Suzhou City awakened. At the Governor’s Mansion’s back alley side gate, people came and went: waste collectors, mule carts heading out to buy supplies, workers reporting for duty, guards changing shifts. It was the busiest time of day, the easiest moment to blend in.
This was when Xie Ci’s advantage showed. He knew the army and the Governor’s Mansion’s operations intimately. Leading Gu Wan, they entered through the back alley, one stooping, the other picking his teeth, and passed through the side gate reserved for deputy soldiers, straight into the guard barracks of the Governor’s Mansion.
The two were fortunate this time: that pale‑skinned young deputy soldier’s father was actually a deputy steward in the Governor’s Mansion, with considerable influence in the front residence. The youth knew a great deal—and his testimony further confirmed that Xun Rongbi was truly imprisoned.
Once inside the Governor’s Mansion, following the information the youth had provided, they changed disguises again, becoming guard soldiers. It took no small effort, but at last they succeeded in approaching the courtyard where Xun Rongbi was confined.
Xie Ci lifted his head slightly, his expression complicated as he stared at the two‑section courtyard. A gnarled old red pine, lush with branches and leaves like a great umbrella, stood on the left side of the front yard. Though September’s west wind was cold, the tree had not shed its leaves, still verdant and flourishing.
For a moment, countless emotions surged in him. This was the very courtyard where he had lived as a child. That pine tree had been planted by his uncle Xun Rongbi himself, with Xie Ci at his side. At the time, Xun Rongbi had taught him: people are like trees — some wither at the first chill, while others endure drought and frost yet remain vigorous and upright. We should be like the great red pine.
Memories flooded back. Xie Ci shook his head hard to drive them away. He told Gu Wan: “This courtyard has a drainage channel. We’ll go in from there.”
Naturally, the courtyard where Xun Rongbi was recuperating would not be guarded too heavily — loose outside, tight within. But after the Tiekan Temple affair, Xie Ci knew that the drainage channel was an unexpected loophole. He judged it should be enough.
The two found a hidden spot, lifted the cover, and tested it. They could barely fit. Yet Suzhou was a frontier stronghold, built even more securely than Tiekan Temple’s prison. Halfway through, they encountered an iron grille. Fortunately, they had prepared. From their calves they drew out thin bamboo tubes, each containing an expensive saw blade.
Two blades broke in succession, but the iron grille was finally cut through. Xie Ci and Gu Wan squeezed through the drainage channel and entered the courtyard where Xun Rongbi was recuperating.
The two quickly discovered that everyone was actually concentrated in the first courtyard. Servants hurried in and out carrying medicine and water, their faces anxious. Once inside the first courtyard, they stopped, heads bowed in silence, their expressions betraying fear — likely worried they would be silenced afterward. If Xun Rongbi’s imprisonment was real, this explained their unease.
As for the second courtyard, its gate was locked. Only a mute servant used a key to open it, carry in breakfast, then silently leave and lock it again.
Xun Rongbi was confined in the second courtyard. Inside, guards were few: one trusted soldier at each of the four corners. But Xie Ci and Gu Wan noticed three vantage points nearby that overlooked the entire second courtyard.
The main hall’s doors and windows were nailed shut with wooden boards, leaving only a narrow food slot at the bottom of the front door. Above it gleamed a heavy lock — a combination lock.
Ancient combination locks were troublesome, impossible to open quickly.
The Governor’s Mansion was tightly guarded, the vantage points covering everything. Yet through patient observation, Xie Ci and Gu Wan realized there was still a way in.
No matter how sealed the doors and windows, there had to be ventilation. In the northern winters, stoves and charcoal were burned constantly, so the vents were made larger. By sight, they judged it barely wide enough to squeeze through — barely for Xie Ci, though for Gu Wan it was no problem.
This vent sat at the top of a small back wall, sheltered by wide eaves that blocked wind and rain—and conveniently blocked the view from the vantage points, leaving space to operate. The courtyard’s design was clever: beneath the vent, shrubs and trees grew up to the corridor. Though autumn had withered them, they still provided cover.
When night fell and the light dimmed, they should be able to slip through.
For now, they faced two problems. First, the vent was sealed — clamped inside and out with an iron plate patterned like a honeycomb, locked from within. To unlock it, they would need to insert thin iron wires, probe the keyhole, and manipulate it from a distance—an extremely difficult task.
But the second problem was far more dangerous. This was the true peril of their mission. If it was a trap, entering would trigger it immediately!
Ambushes and nets were possible — even with their disguise as guard soldiers, and even after carefully scouting escape routes and preparing multiple backup plans, it was still highly uncertain.
After repeated observation and discussion, Xie Ci and Gu Wan realized the beam above the corridor could only conceal one person. In such circumstances, two people risking themselves together was pointless. The best plan was for one to climb to the vent and investigate inside, while the other withdrew to a safe position. If something went wrong, two together would be a bigger target and harder to escape.
“Only one person can go.” After observing, Gu Wan whispered to Xie Ci behind her.
Outside, the wind whistled, mingling with the rustling creak of withered shrubs swaying. She hesitated, then said: “I’ll go.”
Xie Ci immediately said: “No, I’ll go.”
“But are you sure you can open that lock?”
Xie Ci had no answer.
Gu Wan tapped his shoulder: “Besides, if it really is a trap, I can escape much better than you.”
This was not the time for bravado. Yes, the matter was truly Xie Ci’s, but given all the conditions, Gu Wan going was the best choice.
The lock was one factor, but Gu Wan’s body was slimmer and more agile. Most importantly, she lifted her eyes to his face, sweat clearly visible on his brow. “And look at your face.”
Though it was late autumn and cold, the two were disguised as burly adult guards. Beneath their armor, they had padded themselves with layers of clothing, and after crawling so long through the drainage channel under tense pressure, they were overheated and sweating.
In these times, there was no waterproof makeup. No matter how careful they were, their disguises were beginning to smudge. If they had to run, their faces would soon be exposed, revealing their true identities.
Weighing the pros and cons, Gu Wan truly had the advantage. If there were an ambush ahead, she would have a better chance of escaping. Xie Ci’s face was simply too recognizable.
She nudged his shoulder with hers. “Let me go.”
“You stay alert, wait to cover me.” She smiled: “If I can’t blend back in as a guard, I’ll be counting on you to rescue me.”
In the chill of late autumn, sweat beaded on the girl’s forehead. Gone was the teacher‑like composure of last night; her face was youthful, almost childlike.
She smiled, her eyes curving, completely unafraid, leaning closer to whisper to him. “Hey, did you hear me?”
When he didn’t respond, she jabbed him lightly with her elbow.
A surge of indescribable emotion rose in Xie Ci’s heart — from the very beginning until now, her unwavering support, her painstaking comfort the night before. Through all the storms, she had been by his side.
Xie Ci knew Gu Wan’s reasoning was sound; he couldn’t refute a single word. Yet in the dim drainage channel, he looked at her and said, word by word: “Yuan-niang, if you die, once this matter is settled, I will slit my throat to follow you!”
No matter how lightly she spoke, it couldn’t conceal the looming danger ahead. If she fell, then once his father’s vengeance was fulfilled, he would take his own life to join her.
In that moment, the youth shed all resentment and gloom. Past hatred and last night’s iron resolve faded away. Sunset filtered through the half‑covered drain, shining into the channel. He lifted his face to the girl before him, star‑bright eyes filled with sincerity.
Gu Wan was startled. She had been about to turn back, but when she looked into Xie Ci’s dark eyes, his lips pressed firmly, gaze unwavering, she realized — he was serious.
Gu Wan: “That won’t be necessary. I’ll definitely come back safely.”
Slit his throat? Don’t curse her like that!
Gu Wan quickly spat three times for luck, then knocked him on the head.
“Spit, spit, spit! Those words don’t count! Before the job, you absolutely can’t say things like that!”
How ominous could he be? She tapped his head twice more. “Quickly now, stop talking nonsense. Go, go!”
“Hurry — they’re about to change shifts. You wait for me in the barracks.”
No delays. Time was precious.
Xie Ci nodded. Reluctantly, he turned aside, squeezing past the space Gu Wan had left for him. He looked steadily at Gu Wan for a moment, then turned and left swiftly.
Soon, only Gu Wan remained in the drainage channel. She smiled faintly, shaking her head. But she quickly pushed the thought aside, adjusted her posture, and focused on the vent opening, watching carefully. Her life was precious — even if ahead lay the Mariana Trench, she couldn’t afford to capsize here!
Darkness fell quickly. Moonlight glimmered faintly on the tiled eaves, the courtyard wall, and the stone steps. Gu Wan counted silently in her mind, then swiftly lifted the vent cover. Rolling beneath the half‑withered peony bushes, she darted up to the corridor, rolled again, half‑rose, and sprang onto the windowsill. Gripping the beam, she flipped herself up.
Footsteps sounded from behind the wall, pausing by the flowerbed along the side wall. A glance was cast, then the person turned back.
Gu Wan released her held breath, exhaling slowly. Using the faint reflection of moonlight, she leaned close to the iron plate covering the vent and studied it for a long while. From her boot she drew two thin, silver wires, each with a tiny hooked end.
Holding the wires — like bicycle spokes but dozens of times finer — she folded them slightly and inserted them through the small finger‑sized holes in the iron plate, guiding them precisely into the lock beneath.
Gu Wan was skilled at opening such things; after all, this had once been her livelihood. If not for time constraints, she could have used the lost‑wax method, safer and foolproof. After about ten seconds, the hook caught. She pressed and pulled — the iron plate shifted. She hooked her finger through the hole, lifted the plate free, and laid it flat on the beam above. The vent was revealed in its original form: more than a foot long, half a foot high, a rectangular opening into the dark interior. No sound came from within, only the shadow of a heavy curtain.
Gu Wan licked her lips, slowly straightened, and began to crawl inside bit by bit.
Xie Ci sped back to the barracks of the body he was impersonating.
Night had already fallen completely. Guard soldiers returned in twos and threes, then left again — some to eat, some to the back alley.
Once the barracks were empty, Xie Ci slipped inside. He waited anxiously.
Time ticked by, the night deepening. Suddenly, the door gave a clunk. He spun around instantly.
Gu Wan pushed the door open and hurried inside.
Xie Ci had already recognized her footsteps. In a flash, he rushed forward, pulling the door wide.
The two stood face to face.
Gu Wan grabbed his arm. “He’s really dying!” She spoke urgently, breathless.
The two turned back at once.
Through the small vent, they crawled in succession, leaping silently into the room, straight to the bedside. Fixing their gaze— Xie Ci’s heart jolted violently.