Caught between crying out for help and clamping her ears shut, Luo Xinci hesitated for a fleeting instant. In the end, she chose to slip her hands behind her back, tugging at her clothes to cover her waist as much as possible. Never in her wildest thoughts did she imagine someone could treat this as a clue. What then? Was he planning to summon every young lady in the household and measure their waists against his arm? Shameless rogue!
Ming Yuhe was a madman who could never be judged by ordinary logic—she should have realized that the very first time they met.
“Men and women must keep their distance. As your elder brother, it would be improper for me to examine them myself. Niansheng, I’ll have to trouble you to investigate within the residence.”
Luo Xinci was stunned. “How am I supposed to do that?”
Ming Yuhe replied, “Take this measurement and compare it against the maids in the household. You’re a girl yourself, so it won’t be inappropriate.”
She had never heard of such a method for hunting down an ‘assassin.’ Yet seeing Ming Yuhe’s solemn expression, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was her own ignorance at fault.
Last night, in the pitch-black darkness, she had slipped and nearly tumbled down the stairs—only to be caught and hauled back by Ming Yuhe’s arm around her waist. At the time, her heart was pounding with both the terror of falling and the shock of being seized. In her panic, she hadn’t noticed whether he had taken the chance to measure her waist.
She replayed the moment again and again, recalling only that his arm was firm and powerful, encircling her completely, lifting her feet off the ground so she couldn’t even struggle. Her gaze drifted to Ming Yuhe’s arm. He wore a snow-white brocade robe with wide sleeves, the fabric concealing his arm entirely. From the outside, he looked lean, almost slender.
Had she not felt it herself, Luo Xinci would never have believed such strength lay hidden there. Her eyes followed the embroidered patterns along his sleeve up to his shoulder, lingering briefly before catching sight of the silver-gray diamond motifs stitched at his collar. Tall and lithe, broad-shouldered and deep-chested—strong enough to lift a person with one hand. Terrifying.
As she studied him in distraction, the light around her suddenly dimmed—Ming Yuhe had stepped closer.
At some point, the sky had turned gray. When Luo Xinci looked up, his expression was already obscured, leaving only those beautiful peach-blossom eyes narrowed, glinting with suspicion and threat.
In the same attic, under the same surroundings, the instant their eyes met, Luo Xinci felt herself dragged back into last night’s chaos. For a moment she almost believed Ming Yuhe would reach out again, encircle her waist, and test whether she was the “assassin” he had caught. She quickly stepped back. But the scene felt strangely familiar, as though it had happened not long ago. To cover her retreat, she turned sideways, pretending to reach for the teacup on the desk.
“Niansheng, what were you just looking at?”
Perhaps it was only her imagination, but his voice sounded chillingly cold.
That shouldn’t be. If Ming Yuhe harbored unusual feelings toward her, being looked at more often ought to please him.
Clutching the teacup, Luo Xinci stole a swift glance at him and said, “Nothing. It’s too dark—I couldn’t see clearly.”
Night was closing in fast. Fearing that a misstep might cause them to replay last night’s ordeal, she no longer hesitated. “I understand. I’ll examine all the maids in the household. Thank you, elder brother, for finding them for me.” She sipped her tea, set the cup down, and added obediently, “Brother, I’ll take my leave now.”
“I’ll go down with you,” Ming Yuhe replied.
Together they walked to the stairway. No lamps had been lit inside. While they spoke at the desk, the windows had been left open, and outside, maids were already hanging lanterns, letting a faint glow spill into the room. But at the stairway, their vision was swallowed by darkness.
Luo Xinci glanced at Ming Yuhe, vaguely sensing that he was watching her too.
“Shall I call someone to light the lamps, or should I hold Niansheng’s hand and guide you down?”
She turned back, her eyes catching the painting pressed beneath the sheet of paper on the desk, then shifted to the stairway.
The staircase was broad enough for two to walk side by side, yet in the pitch-black it loomed like the gaping maw of a beast.
“I’ll walk on my own.” Luo Xinci refused both options. “If I’m careful, I won’t fall.”
Last night, when Ming Yuhe had gripped her waist, he truly had only lifted her back—no offensive move, and once she was restrained, he immediately let go. But that was only because he hadn’t known it was her.
Luo Xinci thought: if she stumbled today, Ming Yuhe would surely seize the chance to draw close, indulging his shameful, shadowed desires. Besides, who could say he hadn’t memorized the shape of her waist? If he held her again and recognized her, that would be disastrous. She clutched the railing, keeping Ming Yuhe in her peripheral vision, and cautiously took the first step down. Walk carefully, and she wouldn’t fall.
Ming Yuhe moved alongside her, keeping pace. Halfway down, they turned a corner. Lantern light from outside spilled in, finally illuminating the stairs.
Still, Luo Xinci dared not relax. She fixed her gaze on each step, unwilling to misplace a single foot.
Three steps further, Ming Yuhe suddenly swayed, as if he had missed a step, his body tilting toward her. Her first reaction wasn’t alarm—it was resignation. So it comes, just as she expected. Ming Yuhe would never descend quietly!
Indeed, it was deliberate. He had no intention of exposing Luo Xinci just yet. His talk of peculiar appetites was meant to frighten her; he had no real desire for physical contact.
But Luo Xinci, turned sideways, clutched the railing with both hands, braced as though facing a mortal enemy.
With her already so defensive, if he didn’t feign a stumble, wouldn’t he be branded a villain for nothing? So Ming Yuhe pretended to miss a step, leaning toward her.
Luo Xinci cried out, jumped three steps in one bound, then dashed down the rest with pounding footsteps, reaching the bottom in a rush. Not only had she perfectly avoided him, she had also prevented the chance of him tumbling down and crashing into her.
The candlelight split the staircase in two. Ming Yuhe steadied himself in the shadows above, looking down coldly at Luo Xinci.
Luo Xinci stood below, wrapped in the gentle glow of candlelight. Her hair was slightly disheveled from the sudden movement, and she looked up at Ming Yuhe, perfectly unharmed. The air felt a little cold. Awkwardness prickled at her. She forced a smile, brushed her hair back from her shoulder, and said lightly, “I’ll head back first. Brother, take your time—be careful not to fall.” Without waiting for his reply, she turned and ran off.
By the time Ming Yuhe reached the gate of Zhaixing Pavilion, Luo Xinci had already rejoined the waiting maidservants. Under the courtyard lanterns, he saw her chatting and laughing with them. After walking a short distance, she seemed to trip on something and stumbled, only saved by the maid’s quick hand.
On level ground, she slipped and needed support. Yet to escape him, she had flown down eleven steps in a blink, nimble as a cat.
“Good little sister,” Ming Yuhe muttered through clenched teeth.
Luo Xinci knew well how dangerous Ming Yuhe was. The more frightening the man, the more capable his methods. That was why she felt confident he could uncover Wang Yinrao—if anyone could drag him out, it was Ming Yuhe.
That day’s encounter had been a near-death ordeal, but the outcome was good. Luo Xinci was delighted, and she told Lianxing about it.
Lianxing was skeptical. Gesturing, she said, “Just by holding someone, you can know their waist measurement? Back in Linzhou, the most renowned seamstress couldn’t manage that when tailoring for the old madam!”
“But the size he gave was exactly mine, not off by a fraction,” Luo Xinci mused. “Could Ming Yuhe have some strange gift? If so, it’s a pity he isn’t a tailor.”
Neither of them could make sense of it. Still, compared to finding Wang Yinrao, checking the waist measurements of all the young women in the household was child’s play.
“It’s just a bit foolish,” Luo Xinci said. “Too foolish. Could he be mocking me?”
“Foolish indeed,” Lianxing agreed, then shook her head. “But the young marquis seems so cold and distant—he doesn’t look like someone who would toy with people.”
Luo Xinci felt that wasn’t quite right, but lacking proof, she let the matter drop.
After pondering a while, Lianxing said, “Since we can’t catch anyone anyway, why not just muddle through? Surely the young marquis won’t send someone to measure again.”
Of course, it was impossible to find anyone. Even if a maid’s measurements matched, Luo Xinci could never hand her over—those girls were innocent. But she couldn’t simply bluff either. If Ming Yuhe discovered the deception, he would surely seize on it to stir up trouble again.
Lying on the couch, she thought for a while, then said: “Why not use the excuse of tailoring new clothes for the maids? That way, we can gather everyone’s measurements. If Ming Yuhe asks, we’ll say it was to avoid alerting the real culprit.”
“That could work!” Lianxing agreed.
With that problem solved, only one remained. “I just worry the young marquis really can recognize you by your waistline…”
“That’s easy enough…”
The two whispered back and forth, plotting their countermeasures, and went to sleep late.
Luo Xinci was not well-versed in the statutes governing the imperial examinations and officialdom. She had only heard that one could not simply sit for the exams by virtue of learning alone.
From the county exam to the provincial exam and then the metropolitan exam, each stage required recommendations from local academies, tutors, or great scholars, verified by the authorities before one could advance. She had failed to track down Wang Yinrao partly because she had no power or influence, no way to open doors; and partly because too much time had passed—she no longer knew where to begin.
But for Ming Yuhe, such things were simple.
Luo Xinci thought of many methods Ming Yuhe might employ—such as starting with the verification officers who had once been responsible for confirming scholars’ identities, or sending people to approach the two officials suspected of being Wang Yinrao, then investigating them in secret. He could also track down other scholars who had passed the exams that same year and ask around. There were countless ways, and the necessary connections were trivial matters for Ming Yuhe.
All in all, when it came to finding someone, Luo Xinci placed great hopes on Ming Yuhe.
Two days later, Fan Ning came calling again.
The heavy burden on Luo Xinci’s heart had been lifted by Ming Yuhe. He had been busy these past few days and hadn’t troubled her further, so she was unusually lighthearted and cheerful. She greeted Fan Ning with a bright smile—only to be met with a storm of questions.
“Since you’ve already asked Young Marquis Ming for help, why come to me again?”
Luo Xinci was stunned. She quickly realized that Fan Ning must have learned of Ming Yuhe’s search for Wang Yinrao. Flustered, she hurried to apologize and explained everything once more.
Fan Ning, still indignant, said: “Fine, even if the Young Marquis found out on his own, then answer me this—why did you ask me to investigate in secret, yet let him search openly, making a grand spectacle of it? I even kept it hidden from my father, so of course I can’t move as quickly as he can. Did you do this on purpose, just to embarrass me?”
When Fan Ning first returned to the capital, her regional accent and mixed dialects often made her the butt of jokes. Though her father was trusted and held in high regard, he had few friends in the city. To avoid causing him trouble, Fan Ning couldn’t afford to make a fuss when bullied, and often had to swallow her grievances.
Luo Xinci’s situation was even worse, which was why Fan Ning had taken the initiative to befriend her. Now that her friend had found stronger support, she was the one being cast aside.
“I treated you as a friend, and yet you toyed with me like this!”
“I didn’t!” Luo Xinci cried out in grievance—then suddenly realized something was wrong. “The Young Marquis is searching openly? Searching for whom?”
Fan Ning snapped angrily: “Who else but Wang Yinrao! Who else are you looking for?”
Luo Xinci froze, then widened her eyes in panic. Grabbing Fan Ning’s hand, she asked again for confirmation: “You mean he’s searching all over the capital for Wang Yinrao, openly, so that everyone knows?”
Fan Ning quickly noticed her shock and curled her lip. “Of course—now the entire capital knows that Young Marquis Ming is searching for a scholar who passed the exams sixteen years ago. In just a few days, someone will surely come forward.”
Luo Xinci froze for a moment, then cried out in dismay: “How could he do this!” She had avoided this very method before, fearing it would alert the target. Now that Ming Yuhe had spread the news, Wang Yinrao would surely feel threatened—and would go to Linzhou to wipe out every trace!
Her family was full of wounded men; the only one still whole was Ming Niansheng. But she had lost the identity of the Marquis’s daughter and could no longer protect herself—let alone appear openly.
Nearly frantic, Luo Xinci clutched Fan Ning and demanded: “What exactly has he said? Has the news already spread? Where is he now?”
Fan Ning tried to soothe her: “Isn’t he finding the man for you, to avenge you? Why are you so—”
“I asked you where he is!” Luo Xinci cut her off sharply. Fan Ning, startled by her intensity, dropped her questions and answered: “At this hour, the Young Marquis should be at the government office. You won’t be able to get in.”
Luo Xinci closed her eyes, steadied her breathing, then opened them with resolve. “I’m leaving.”
“Leaving? Where to?”
“Back to Linzhou.”
No matter how Fan Ning or Yunxiu pressed her, Luo Xinci said nothing more. She returned to her room, spoke briefly with Lianxing, and the two began packing their belongings. To return to Linzhou now meant her identity would almost certainly be exposed, and punishment unavoidable. But if she didn’t go back, no one would warn her family and Ming Niansheng—they might all perish. She could ignore Linzhou, of course. She already had Ming Niansheng’s identity; she could feign ignorance, wait until everyone there was dead, and then fully replace the real one—becoming the Marquis’s daughter in truth.
Marquis Wuling was dead, Princess Shao’an was indifferent, and though Ming Yuhe was difficult, he favored her. If she behaved obediently, she would live in luxury.
Some men abandoned wives and children for ambition; some sold their daughters for money. But Luo Xinci could not bring herself to do such things.
She had to return to Linzhou. If she were in time, she would first take her family into hiding, then plan further. If not, at least they would die together.
Just as Ming Yuhe stepped through the gates of the residence, Yunxiu rushed over to report. But instead of hurrying to Yunshang Pavilion, Ming Yuhe first asked: “What has Niansheng been doing these past few days?”
Yunxiu was anxious but had no choice—she could only answer truthfully.
Ming Yuhe gave a cold laugh after hearing her report. He had asked Yunxiu for Luo Xinci’s waist measurements to frighten her, then troubled her further by ordering her to check the household maids. Luo Xinci, however, was clever—she simply had new summer clothes made for all the maids. Spending his silver, yet winning their goodwill.
“She hasn’t stepped outside the residence?”
“No,” Yunxiu replied. “If there’s anything unusual, it’s only that Miss has had a better appetite these past two days—she’s been eating more.”
For a moment, Ming Yuhe didn’t know what to say. He had tricked her into thinking he remembered her waist size. To avoid being found out, she was eating more, trying to gain weight?
Waving Yunxiu away, Ming Yuhe went to Yunshang Pavilion. First he dismissed Fan Ning, then sent off the maids, and asked: “Where are you going?”
Luo Xinci had already packed her belongings; only the maids had delayed her until now. Furious that Ming Yuhe had put her family in danger, she spoke coldly: “I’m going back to Linzhou. Step aside!”
Until now, whenever she faced Ming Yuhe, Luo Xinci had either been evasive or meek. This was the first time she had spoken to him so bluntly.
Her attitude had shifted so drastically that with only a moment’s thought, Ming Yuhe understood exactly what she was angry about.
“I understand—Niansheng is blaming me for acting on my own,” Ming Yuhe said. “Blaming me for loudly announcing in the capital that I’m searching for Wang Yinrao, alarming him, isn’t that it?”
Luo Xinci turned her face away, unwilling to speak to him.
No one can truly put themselves in another’s place. Besides, Ming Yuhe had only promised to help her find the man; he had never said he would keep it secret, nor that he would consider the safety of the Luo family.
So she could not say Ming Yuhe was entirely wrong. She had no right to reproach him.
Luo Xinci was simply heartsick at her own weakness, her inability to protect her family. She did not want to explain anything. Once she left, Ming Yuhe would uncover everything anyway. Whether he chose to kill or punish her, she would accept it. She only repeated one line: “Step aside.”
Ming Yuhe blocked her path and asked: “I’ll ask you once more—are you truly determined to ignore everything and return to Linzhou?”
“Yes.”
Ming Yuhe did not want the matter to end so abruptly. He gazed at her steadily for a moment, then shifted aside.
Just as Luo Xinci brushed past him, he suddenly said: “If Wang Yinrao were a commoner, changing his name and hiding in the bustling city, he would be hard to find. But he entered officialdom through the imperial examinations. Even after more than ten years, he cannot erase all traces. Niansheng, if you were Wang Yinrao and heard that I was searching for you across the capital, would you keep hiding—or would you come forward yourself?”
Luo Xinci’s mind was full of thoughts of Linzhou. One foot already across the threshold, she heard his words, followed the line of reasoning—and suddenly realized the situation was not quite as she had imagined.
Just as Ming Yuhe had said, Wang Yinrao was a proper graduate of the imperial examinations, having passed through layer upon layer of selection. It was impossible for him to erase all traces of his past.
Representing Marquis Wuling’s household, Ming Yuhe had the power to track down an official who had changed his name. If he chose to search, he would certainly find him—it was only a matter of time. The whole capital knew of this matter now, and Wang Yinrao must have heard as well. If he did not reveal himself at this point, and allowed the Marquis’s household to continue investigating, then the events at Hongqiao Town would be exposed to daylight. Worse still, the doctored records in the Bureau of Archives would also come to light, and he would face even greater suspicion.
For Wang Yinrao, hiding in the shadows, the best choice was to step forward and deal with Ming Yuhe directly. Once he stood in the open, all his efforts to conceal his identity would be wasted. His ties to the Luo family would be easily uncovered by those with intent. In such circumstances, would he still dare send men to Linzhou to kill? No—he would have to use softer methods, such as bribing the Luo family.
Back then, Luo Xinci had kept silent out of fear of being quietly silenced. But Ming Yuhe’s position was different. If he pursued the matter, the outcome would not be the same.
Reminded by Ming Yuhe, Luo Xinci suddenly saw the truth. Her mind, clouded by anger and worry, cleared at once. She hurried back and said: “If I were him, continuing to hide would only look guilty. To avoid old scandals being uncovered, I would have to stand openly and face it.”
Ming Yuhe gave a short, mocking laugh, then walked past her and sat down in a chair.
Luo Xinci dropped her bundle and rushed after him, coaxing: “Brother, has he come to find you yet?”
“Weren’t you set on returning to Linzhou? Why bother with this?” Ming Yuhe replied coolly. “Go on, I’ve already had a carriage prepared.”
Luo Xinci’s cheeks burned. She lowered her voice: “I was thinking wrongly just now. I thought ‘Luo Xinci’ was in danger and panicked… You know, even though I stole her fiancé, I truly did treat her as a friend. We girls are just like that…”
Ming Yuhe listened indifferently to her rambling, then turned his gaze to the tea.
Flustered, Luo Xinci quickly lifted the cup and handed it to him. Watching him take a sip, she lowered herself again, flattering: “Brother, you’re so clever. How did I not think of all this?”
“You didn’t think of far more than this,” Ming Yuhe said. “Abandoning wife and child might earn him impeachment and damage his career. But did you never consider he might kill for other reasons? His wife, his in-laws, his political enemies—there are many possibilities. Did you never think to start from those angles?”
Luo Xinci was stunned.
Seeing her expression, Ming Yuhe knew at once she had never considered such things. She claimed she had come to the capital to seek vengeance, but even if she found the man, she would likely hesitate to act. Was he really being schemed against by such a girl?
Ming Yuhe recalled how, just a few days earlier, he had feigned a fall, only for Luo Xinci to nimbly dodge aside. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. And now she dared to blame him for acting on his own, even shouting at him? Her courage had grown far too bold!
Ming Yuhe could not let her off so easily. “Why so quiet? Are you angry?” His expression softened, his voice gentler. “Just now, I wasn’t speaking of you—I was speaking of your friend, the one called Luo Xinci, wasn’t it? You devote yourself to her, yet she hides away in Linzhou. A friend like that is hardly worth keeping.”
“…” Luo Xinci dared not reply.
In that brief silence, a guard knocked at the door. “Reporting to the Young Marquis—Lord Wang Shu requests an audience.”
Luo Xinci’s head snapped toward the guard, her heart pounding violently, like surging tides, like a thousand galloping horses.
Wang Shu—she remembered that name. He was from Linzhou!
“Take him to the front hall. Let him wait,” Ming Yuhe ordered calmly, without a ripple of emotion.
Clutching her chest to steady herself, Luo Xinci was now utterly certain Ming Yuhe had been right. She longed to hear Wang Shu admit with his own mouth that he was Wang Yinrao, yet at the same time she feared meeting him. How could she even begin to speak of Linzhou? She had no proof at all.
Luo Xinci stood helpless, at a loss. After a moment of dazed hesitation, she moved closer to Ming Yuhe, tugged at his sleeve, and pleaded: “Brother, good brother, I promised my friend I would help her resolve this matter, but I don’t know what to do. Will you teach me, please?”
Ming Yuhe raised his brows and countered: “Teach you?”
“Yes.” Luo Xinci coaxed sweetly, “I admire clever men like you the most, Brother!”
How could he not see through the little schemes she was plotting? It was nothing more than her thinking he harbored unusual feelings for her—and wanting to use those feelings to her advantage. Just days ago she had avoided him at all costs, and now she was drawing near of her own accord. Was she so certain he wouldn’t dare reveal those feelings?
Ming Yuhe deliberately refused to play along.
Watching Luo Xinci’s moist, blinking eyes, he said slowly: “If you want me to teach you, of course I can. But first, there’s something I want to confirm with Niansheng.”
“Say it!”
Ming Yuhe rose to his feet, his tall figure like a wall, blocking out the light before her.
Uneasy, Luo Xinci stepped back a little—then, after a moment’s thought, moved forward again of her own accord.
He noticed, his gaze flashing. “Niansheng, when I asked you to check the maids in the household, did you investigate carefully?”
“I did,” Luo Xinci replied quickly. “I had people measure each maid under the pretense of tailoring clothes. A few matched, but at the time they all had alibis…”
“Just from encircling a waist, how could I possibly gauge the exact measurement?” Ming Yuhe chuckled. “Niansheng, I was only teasing you.”
Luo Xinci’s throat tightened; all the words she had prepared were swallowed back down.
“In truth, what I remembered wasn’t her waistline,” Ming Yuhe leaned close to her ear, tilting his face, and whispered, “It was the scent of rouge.” As he spoke, he inhaled lightly.
Luo Xinci’s hair stood on end. Something was wrong—she sensed danger. Instinctively, she stepped back.
Ming Yuhe followed, meeting her trembling gaze with a smile that was all too gentle. “Come now, Niansheng. Tell me—what did you hear that night?”
Luo Xinci: “…”
Inside, she screamed for help, desperate to flee, but the path ahead was blocked by Ming Yuhe. Should she confess she wasn’t Ming Niansheng? But Wang Yinrao had just appeared—without Niansheng’s identity, she would lose all chance of approaching him for revenge. Her heart shrieked as his hand reached toward her cheek.
Ming Yuhe’s finger hooked a loose strand of hair by her temple, chiding with intimate reproach: “You knew my feelings, yet pretended not to, and even tried to use them. Niansheng, how cruel you are…”
A chill pierced Luo Xinci’s heart. Unable to endure any longer, she shoved him away and fled in panic. But she had barely taken two steps when, just as in Zhaixing Pavilion before, an arm encircled her waist and lifted her back.