When she learned that Grand Tutor Chang had retired and returned home, Luo Xinci suspected that Wang Yinrao feared his disgraceful deeds might reach the tutor’s ears, and so sought to wipe out her entire family. She had collapsed once under the weight of this thought, but later reflected—without evidence, perhaps she had imagined too much. Yet after checking the archives and discovering that Wang Yinrao’s name had been deliberately concealed, her suspicion grew firm again.
No matter what, Luo Xinci had to find Wang Yinrao. Short of silver, lacking manpower, weak and alone, it was far too difficult to fight against someone lurking in the shadows. So Luo Xinci decided to trust Fan Ning just this once, and revealed the name “Wang Yinrao” to her.
Fan Ning, magnanimous and free of past grudges, readily promised to have someone investigate in secret. To show her gratitude, Luo Xinci removed the pearl necklace from her neck and offered it to Fan Ning. It was the only valuable ornament she still possessed after exchanging identities with Ming Niansheng.
“No need,” Fan Ning said. “If you truly want to thank me, then frame Jiang Liyang one more time—let me beat him fair and square again! I just love seeing him choke on his own indignation when he can’t explain himself!”
Luo Xinci: “…Mm.” Very well, she would find another chance to try.
Just after settling things with Fan Ning, Lianxing hurried over to say that Ming Yuhe had sent for her, asking her to return to the manor.
How could Luo Xinci dare face Ming Yuhe? She dawdled outside for half a day, waiting until Fan Ning’s attendants came to escort her home, before climbing into her own carriage with tears brimming.
At the Marquis’s residence, Ming Yuhe, while waiting, once again pondered the matter of the Luo family.
Now it was certain: Wang Yinrao was the culprit who had repeatedly struck against the Luo family, and also the reason Luo Xinci had come to the capital. One was a girl of sixteen or seventeen, the other a middle-aged official—such enmity must be rooted in the previous generation.
Ming Yuhe recalled the guards reporting that Luo Xinci had a father who died young. He had succumbed to illness before she was even born, and beyond that, there was no trace of him. It was rare for someone to take their mother’s surname simply because their father had died. This suggested that her father’s relationship with the Luo family had been poor.
Perhaps Wang Yinrao was that father—who, after rising to power, abandoned wife and child… Or perhaps, like Marquis Wuling, he had committed vile acts against the Luo family’s daughter, leaving her with a child.
There were many other possibilities. In truth, uncovering the truth was simple. No one can sever the past completely. If notices were posted throughout Linzhou seeking Wang Yinrao, some old acquaintance would surely recall him. Then he could be brought to the capital and identified one by one. But that method was far too slow.
From Ming Niansheng to Luo Xinci, and now to Wang Yinrao hiding in the dark, Ming Yuhe felt that everyone was using him as a stepping stone. His patience had already been worn thin by Luo Xinci’s evasions. When it came to Wang Yinrao, Ming Yuhe had no intention of using gentle means.
Provided, of course, that Luo Xinci told him the truth.
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, Luo Xinci returned to the manor and was escorted by guards to Zhaixing Pavilion.
After last night’s ordeal, Luo Xinci only wished she could be farther away from Zhaixing Pavilion—she had no desire whatsoever to set foot inside again. On one hand, she feared this place; on the other, she was desperate to know whether Ming Yuhe had uncovered any clues. Being inexplicably branded an assassin was a matter of life and death for both her and Lianxing—she could not take it lightly.
Summoning her courage, Luo Xinci entered the pavilion. The shards of porcelain shattered the night before had already been swept away, the bookshelves restored, and that portrait she dared not look at had been put away.
Ming Yuhe sat at the desk by the window, sketching something. The amber glow of the setting sun wrapped around him from the side, gilding him in a gentle golden light. The scene was breathtakingly beautiful—until Luo Xinci noticed the paints on the desk. He was painting again!
“Little Marquis, the young lady has returned,” the guard reported.
Ming Yuhe set down his brush, lifted his gaze, and covered the painting with a sheet of xuan paper.
Luo Xinci fell silent. She didn’t need to guess—if it was hidden so quickly, then surely the subject was her again!
She forced herself not to look at the painting, bowed properly, and said obediently, “I have returned. What instructions does elder brother have?”
Seeing the caution in her eyes, Ming Yuhe felt pleased. He stepped out from behind the desk and asked, “Niansheng, tell me honestly—how have I treated you?”
“Elder brother has always protected me, cared for me in every way.” If he had asked her this before last night, Luo Xinci could have answered with conviction.
Now, she could only smother her conscience and lie: “Niansheng is endlessly grateful.”
Ming Yuhe said, “If that is so, then why has Niansheng deceived me with lies time and again?”
Already uneasy, Luo Xinci was struck dumb when she heard those words—she thought last night’s events had been exposed, and half her soul seemed to fly away on the spot. Frozen for a moment, she forced herself to recover, clinging to a last shred of hope as she argued weakly: “W-what are you talking about? I don’t understand.”
“Wang Yinrao,” Ming Yuhe said. “Wasn’t Niansheng looking for him?”
Luo Xinci had expected him to bring up last night. Hearing this instead, the last fragments of her spirit nearly scattered. She fought to steady herself and asked dryly, “H-how do you know?”
“Fan Ning told me,” Ming Yuhe replied.
Her heart clenched, plunging her into an icy abyss. She felt utterly chilled.
Fan Ning had betrayed her. She had used Fan Ning first—so it was only fair that Fan Ning treated her this way. The fault lay in her own gullibility. As her uncle had said, people’s hearts are ever-changing, and she was no match for them. She could not blame anyone else.
That was the truth, yet Luo Xinci still felt a pang of sorrow. She forced a smile, tried to speak, but her lips opened and closed twice without producing a sound.
Seeing her pale face, Ming Yuhe frowned. “The manor was just attacked by assassins. As your brother, I worried for your safety outside, so I sent guards to protect you in secret. It was they who overheard Fan Ning.”
Luo Xinci gave a dull “oh,” her eyes still vacant and lifeless. Only after a long while did she slowly grasp his meaning. Her complexion regained some color, her gaze flickered with light again—though when she looked at Ming Yuhe, there was now a faint trace of grievance.
Ming Yuhe sneered inwardly. What right did she have to resent him?
“Who is Wang Yinrao?” he asked first, then deliberately reminded her: “I dislike being deceived. Niansheng, think carefully before you answer.”
Luo Xinci took the warning to heart and fell silent, weighing her words. She could repeat the same story she had told Fan Ning, but with the Marquis’s power, Wang Yinrao’s identity would surely be uncovered. If the investigation followed the trail of the past, it would eventually lead to the Luo family.
Ming Yuhe already knew of Luo Xinci’s existence. He would think further, and with his temperament, the consequences would be disastrous.
She stole a glance at him. He sat upright, composed, waiting leisurely for her reply—as though ready to decide her fate with a single word.
“I have a friend in Linzhou, the one betrothed to Zhou Yi—her name is Luo Xinci. Wang Yinrao is her father. He abandoned wife and child, worse than a beast!”
Resolving to tell the truth, she rifled through the notes in her heart, her mind racing as she said: “Not long ago, her family suffered calamity. She suspects her father was behind it, so she asked me to help find him and uncover the truth.
“I… developed feelings I shouldn’t have for her fiancé. Out of guilt, I promised to help her search for her father.”
Ming Yuhe raised his brows. After a pause, under her anxious gaze, he said slowly: “Niansheng, can I trust you?”
Luo Xinci quickly said, “Yes! What I said is true—he really is Luo Xinci’s biological father!”
Ming Yuhe did not respond immediately. He only walked slowly toward her.
By the time they spoke, the sun had already set completely. The last faint traces of light were blocked by Ming Yuhe’s broad back.
Luo Xinci was much shorter than him, almost swallowed entirely by his shadow. It reminded her of last night, when she had been trapped between him and the wall. Terrified, she stepped back.
“Is Niansheng afraid of me?”
“N-no!” Luo Xinci stubbornly denied it.
Ming Yuhe stepped forward again, pressing her back into the darkness. She dared not dodge. Forcing herself, she lifted her face to meet his gaze, blinking rapidly, praying that his twisted, forbidden feelings would cloud his mind enough to let her go.
Ming Yuhe gave a faint, unreadable smile. He reached out and lightly brushed her nose with his fingertip. “Little liar.”
A chill shot straight through her heart, and she shivered involuntarily.
“Niansheng once said she liked younger husbands. Of the three you chose, two were surnamed Wang, and now the man you seek is also surnamed Wang. How could I not be suspicious? Niansheng, were you lying before?”
Under his relentless pressure, Luo Xinci had spun too many stories. She could no longer keep them straight. Stammering, she failed to give any reply.
“I know you’re lying. But it doesn’t matter.” He raised his hand toward her. Luo Xinci wanted to flinch away, but hearing the hint of forgiveness in his words, she forced herself to stay still. Her eyes widened as his hand hovered near her cheek. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw it stop just beside her face.
Between siblings, occasional touches were normal. Luo Yizhou used to carry her on his back when they were young. Sometimes, when they quarreled, he would even pinch her cheeks.
Luo Xinci tried to convince herself that Ming Yuhe’s gesture was nothing more than ordinary sibling affection.
Ordinary, my foot! She could not accept such feelings, yet she dared not resist. In despair, she simply shut her eyes. But his hand only lingered near her cheek, close enough for her to feel its warmth, without ever making contact. He brushed aside the stray hair at her forehead and said, “These are all small matters. If Niansheng lies, it must be because she has her own difficulties. How could your brother ever make things hard for you?” His tone shifted suddenly, giving her a chance to breathe.
Seeing her flushed face, he withdrew his hand and turned away. “When you’re bullied, Niansheng would rather seek help from outsiders than confide in me. That makes me very sad. But this time I’ll let it go. In the future, you mustn’t do that again.”
Taking advantage of his turned back, Luo Xinci drew a deep breath and pressed her hand to her chest. “I—I understand.”
Ming Yuhe returned to the table, poured two cups of tea, and handed one to her while keeping the other for himself. After sipping twice, he said, “This man, Wang Yinrao—I’ll help you find him. But in exchange, Niansheng, you must do me a favor.”
“You’ll help me find him?” Luo Xinci was stunned at first, then her eyes lit up.
Marquis Wuling’s household had long been under Ming Yuhe’s control. No matter how powerful Wang Yinrao was, could he possibly surpass him?
With Ming Yuhe’s help, how could she fail to find the man?
Luo Xinci agreed at once. “Yes, yes! Thank you, Brother!”
When expressing gratitude, one must speak pleasantly, with a sweet tone.
Her crisp “Brother” rang clear and honeyed, as if wrapped in syrup, sweet enough to melt into the heart. But it only made Ming Yuhe displeased. He had taken on her troubles, yet could not bear to see her carefree and cheerful. He reminded her, “Don’t thank me too soon, Niansheng. You must do something for your brother in return.”
“Please, tell me!”
“Yesterday, assassins infiltrated the estate. You should be aware of that.”
The smile froze on Luo Xinci’s face. She turned her eyes aside and gave a soft “Mm.” Stay calm, stay calm. She reassured herself inwardly. If Ming Yuhe had any real leads, he would have already confronted her with them.
“The arsonist hid well—no one saw him. But the one who stole the painting crossed blades with me. The candles had gone out, so I couldn’t see her face clearly, but I could tell she was a woman. To vanish so quickly, the two of them must be insiders, still within the estate.”
“…That makes sense…” Luo Xinci murmured.
Ming Yuhe’s gaze swept her up and down, then he suddenly said, “Come to think of it, that girl’s build was very close to Niansheng’s.”
Luo Xinci forced out a reply. “My build is the most ordinary—there are countless like me on the streets…”
“Nonsense. Niansheng is the most unique in all the world.”
“…,” Luo Xinci wanted to thank him, but the words tasted sour in her throat.
“She was quick. She bit me and escaped.” Ming Yuhe lifted his hand, showing the bite mark in his palm before her eyes. Regardless of her feelings, he continued, “But I’m not without clues. When I caught her, I happened to touch her waist.” His hand curved faintly, his voice low and deliberate. “—So slender.”
Luo Xinci: “…”