Dingbei Marquis Manor, Shuangsong Garden.
The official documents and case files piled on the desk seemed more disorganized than usual. Gu Yanchi pinched his brow, that familiar, unresolvable sense of vexation gripping him once more.
The duties of the Zhenfu Division were myriad, each matter requiring his personal attention.
The preparations for the marriage with the Left Prime Minister Lin's family, though seemingly a tapestry of splendor, were in reality a tangled mess.
He had to cater to Lin Meijun's various arrogant demands while also navigating the relationships with the elders of the Lin family, maintaining just the right amount of closeness and distance.
In the past, the suffocating feeling brought on by these tedious mundane affairs would always be momentarily relieved upon returning to the manor and entering that quiet courtyard.
A cup of perfectly temperate clear tea, a censer of calming incense, perhaps a few well-chosen words of comfort that never overstepped boundaries.
Like a potent medicine, it would silently smooth away all his rough edges.
But now, that "medicine" was gone.
An inexplicable restlessness drove him, his steps unconsciously stopping outside Qin Xianyue's wing.
Pushing open the slightly ajar door, a sense of cold, lifeless emptiness washed over him.
The furnishings inside were the same, yet excessively neat and dust-free.
The books on the shelf were arranged neatly, her usual habit;
The dressing table held no cosmetics or hairpins and ornaments, only a plain wooden comb;
The display cabinet held a few scattered trinkets, inexpensive but unique, mostly gifts he had casually given her in childhood...
These traces were all there, only the person herself had vanished without a trace.
The vexation intensified.
He remembered that whenever she was upset, she would always quietly light that specially made Snow Plum Blossom incense.
Gu Yanchi got up and, relying on memory, searched through her small cabinet for incense and miscellaneous items, but inadvertently saw a bundle she had stored away.
He paused and took out the bundle.
Inside were a few dresses, some loose silver, a packet of dry rations, and...
A travel permit.
She had... already prepared to leave?
This realization, like being doused with ice water, caused Gu Yanchi to stiffen instantly.
A surge of anger, mixed with feelings of being deceived and belittled, along with a deeper, inexpressible sense of emptiness, swept over him.
At this moment, Gu Zhaoyun's voice broke the deathly silence in the room.
"Elder Brother, so you're here!"
She walked in, holding up her skirt.
"Sister Meijun came to visit Mother, and she's talking in the flower hall. Mother sent me to find you."
Gu Yanchi closed his eyes, forcibly suppressing the churning emotions, his voice a little hoarse.
"I know. I'll be there shortly."
Gu Zhaoyun knew he was still thinking about that Jian Ren, Qin Xianyue, and pouted.
"Elder Brother is still thinking about that heartless woman? If you ask me, she's just an ungrateful Bai Yan Lang! Our Gu family raised her, gave her food and clothing, and dignity. And what did she do? No gratitude, probably eloped with some unknown wild man. It's a wonder you're still worried about her..."
"Zhaoyun!"
He wanted to scold her for talking nonsense, but the travel permit in his hand choked all his refutations.
Would she really leave without saying goodbye?
As he was thinking, a Zhenfu Division Chai Yi was led into the courtyard and reported with a bow from the veranda.
"Commander, His Highness the Crown Prince has ordered the Zhenfu Division to immediately assist in searching the entire city and Jing Ji based on this portrait, and to apprehend the Xian Fan in the painting!"
Gu Yanchi took a deep breath and stepped out of the room.
He took the portrait and unfolded it, his pupils contracting sharply.
Not because of the appearance of the person in the painting, but because the brushstrokes and lines were far too familiar.
He called out to the Chai Yi who was about to leave, his voice involuntarily tightening.
"Who painted this portrait...?"
Eastern Palace.
On the small table were several plates of exquisite pastries bought from a famous pastry shop outside the palace, still emitting a sweet, soft aroma.
Xie Jinyuan picked up a piece of osmanthus sugar-steamed chestnut flour cake and put it into his mouth with a leisurely air, his gaze, however, remained playfully fixed on the face of the person opposite him.
Qin Xianyue ate as she listened to Xie Jinyuan recount the capture of the Xian Fan.
It turned out that the person, relying on being unknown, had been hiding in the Jing Jiao for many years.
That day in the market, he glimpsed a portrait on a Hai Bu Wen Shu that bore a six or seven-tenths resemblance to him. Thinking his exposure was imminent, he was so frightened that he packed his bags and tried to flee overnight.
Who knew that as soon as he left the city gate, he was apprehended.
Upon hearing this, Qin Xianyue's tone held a hint of understanding.
"Ultimately, it was his guilty conscience. Having done something wrong, he naturally feared exposure."
"Precisely." Xie Jinyuan nodded, his fingertip tapping the edge of the plate holding the pastries. "However, your portrait also played an indispensable role. Among all the Hua Shi in the Capital city, none could have achieved such an effect from a mere old sketch from decades ago."
Qin Xianyue felt a little embarrassed by the praise, but then she curiously looked at Xie Jinyuan and pressed further.
"But, Elder Brother, you said it was only six or seven-tenths similar? Where did the other parts differ?"
The inquisitiveness in her tone and the almost severe scrutiny of her own "work" deepened the smile in Xie Jinyuan's eyes.
He leaned forward slightly, and across the hazy aroma of pastries and wisps of tea steam, he gazed into her clear eyes.
"Want to know?" His voice trailed off, with a hint of coaxing. "The person is now locked up in the Zhenfu Division prison. Instead of imagining here, why not... go see for yourself?"
Qin Xianyue nodded almost without hesitation.
"Okay."
Xie Jinyuan did not bring many people along, only Qin Xianyue and two personal guards, and arrived before the prison cell where the Xian Fan was held.
Through the bars, Qin Xianyue's gaze calmly fell upon the prisoner's face.
She looked very carefully, as if she were not examining a heinous Xian Fan, but scrutinizing a painting that still needed revision.
As she looked, she compared it with the Hua Gao in her mind, silently noting the differences, and pondering the omissions in her deduction or the unique characteristics this person had developed over time.
Just as she was fully absorbed, almost lost in thought, the prisoner suddenly lunged, violently swinging the chained shackles, intending to harm someone.
Almost in the same instant, the Commander of the Guards behind Xie Jinyuan's sword had already struck, precisely deflecting the thrown chain.
Another guard leaped forward, quickly subduing the lunging prisoner and pinning him firmly to the ground.
Everything happened in the space of a breath, a false alarm.
Qin Xianyue remained standing in place, her face pale.
She did not dodge, did not cry out, and did not even take half a step back.
She simply stood there, like an orchid drenched in a sudden downpour.
Xie Jinyuan gazed at her and asked in a deep voice.
"You're a young lady, and you don't know martial arts. Weren't you scared in that situation?"
Qin Xianyue lowered her eyelashes.
"Fortunately, no one was harmed. Elder Brother need not worry."
Seeing her appearance, clearly shaken but forcing herself to swallow her fear, a look she was accustomed to.
Xie Jinyuan grasped her wrist and pulled her slightly behind him.
"If such danger arises again, stand behind me."
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