“It is easy to paint a tiger’s skin, but hard to paint its bones; easy to know a man’s face, but hard to know his heart.”
In the capital, Luo Xinci recalled this saying her uncle often repeated. She had to admit that it applied not only to people but also to households.
Take the Luo family, for instance. They had once lived in Hongqiao Town, south of Linzhou. The town was small, unable to keep secrets. So when her father returned in glory, took away her grandmother, and left behind only a divorce letter and Luo Shang, heavy with child, the news spread through Hongqiao the very next day. Rumors may not kill, but they are far more terrifying.
A month later, her uncle moved the family to the prefectural city.
Linzhou Prefecture was much larger than Hongqiao Town. Families often moved in or out, and neighbors were used to it. At most, they asked a few extra questions when they saw Luo Shang, several months pregnant.
Upon learning that she was merely a widow whose husband had died of illness, left to rely on her elder brother, neighbors offered a few words of comfort or pity. After that, few ever mentioned Luo Xinci’s father—whom she herself had never met. Thus the family settled in Linzhou. Her uncle, a man of loyalty and broad vision, quickly made a name for himself.
Later, Luo Xinci was betrothed to Zhou Yi. When Zhou Yi placed second in the imperial examinations, the people of Linzhou spoke of the Luo family only with admiration and envy. But how could they know what trials the family was truly enduring?
The grandeur of Marquis Wuling’s household was beyond comparison with the Luo family, yet in essence it was the same: what outsiders saw as noble power concealed within it filth and peril.
Take the incident of the Crown Prince’s near assassination. Ming Yuhe claimed Marquis Wuling was the prime suspect. Had the prince not returned safely, and had the emperor found evidence, the affair would have ended in rivers of blood.
Ming Yuhe never said outright whether it was the Marquis’s doing. But to Luo Xinci, if it truly had not been, he could have declared it plainly. Instead, he only spoke of the official outcome, which was proof enough that the crime of treason lay at the Marquis’s feet.
Marquis Wuling was ambitious—how could the emperor possibly tolerate him?
“Miss, I’ve found out something,” Lianxing whispered at Luo Xinci’s side.
Blinking back to herself, Luo Xinci asked, “What did you learn?”
Lianxing replied, “Last time, when you were tricked into entering the study and came out unharmed, some people thought the Marquis was unusually lenient toward his daughter…”
Luo Xinci understood. When she first entered the Marquis’s residence, apart from Steward Tang and a few maids at Yunshang Pavilion, no one paid much attention to her or her servant. In recent days, she had gone out little and noticed little herself, but Lianxing clearly sensed a change in attitude among the lower servants, especially those in the outer courtyard. That was fine—it would make things easier.
“Did you find out when the Marquis and his son will return to the residence?”
“No,” Lianxing said. “The inner-court maids are tight-lipped. They won’t let a word slip. The outer servants know the Marquis and the young lord have left, but none know when they’ll be back.”
Luo Xinci thought for a moment. “Never mind. We’re leaving the residence.”
“So soon?” Lianxing was startled. “Shouldn’t we wait for a safer chance?”
“No waiting.”
The more secrets one knew, the greater the danger—and the harder it was to escape. That was why Luo Xinci never told Lianxing what she had encountered. She felt she could no longer waste her energy on the Marquis’s household. That was not her battle. She needed to resolve her own family’s troubles, find a way out, and somehow warn Ming Niansheng. No matter how, she had to break free of the Marquis’s residence as quickly as possible.
Luo Xinci said, “A daughter of the Marquis’s household in the capital cannot be confined indoors all day. Surely even going out for a stroll is permitted. If pressed, we’ll say Grandmother longs for the sights of the capital, and I am helping her revisit them.”
Leaving the residence proved far easier than the two had imagined. No one stopped them. Still, as the Marquis’s daughter, Luo Xinci could not go out without attendants, and she was forced to take three maids along. She wished to investigate both her father and her betrothed. Her father had entered the capital more than ten years ago, and apart from his name, Luo Xinci knew nothing else. Her fiancé, however, was easier to trace—last year’s newly appointed *Second Place Scholar*. A few questions to passersby would surely yield some information. Yet with the Marquis’s maids shadowing her, she dared not speak openly.
Patiently, Luo Xinci let the maids lead her to the busiest street in the capital. Beneath the Son of Heaven’s feet, prosperity flourished. Towering pagodas and lofty pavilions, bustling taverns and teahouses—none could be compared to distant Linzhou. Even the sunlight seemed brighter here. And more unfamiliar. She never found a chance to shake off the maids. At last, claiming fatigue, she entered a teahouse.
The teahouse faced the street, and from its upper floor one could overlook the entire avenue, even the rows of rooftops stretching into the distance. Luo Xinci was lost in thought, devising a plan, when a sudden commotion rose below. Leaning out, she saw a crowd gathered. At its center stood a youth in brocade and a girl in yellow, each backed by a retinue of servants, locked in confrontation.
The youth’s voice rang out: “I won’t quarrel with a clumsy little girl like you. Don’t push your luck—move aside!”
“Who are you looking down on!” the girl retorted angrily. “I’ve won plenty of wagers in riding and archery beyond the frontier. You may not be better than me!”
Just as Luo Xinci thought the youth looked familiar, one of the Marquis’s maids exclaimed in surprise: “It’s Young Master Jiang Liyang.”
Jiang Liyang? At once, Luo Xinci withdrew from the window. She had no wish to be entangled again with that spoiled young master who disliked her. The maids, knowing his attitude toward her, said nothing about inviting him upstairs for tea. She had no interest in their quarrel, yet their voices carried clearly. Listening for a while, she realized they were arguing over who was the better rider and archer.
After some bickering, Jiang Liyang said, “Fine, fine, you’re amazing. I won’t argue.” His tone dripped with irony, the air of a man declaring, *a gentleman does not fight with women.*
This infuriated the girl in yellow. She shouted, “Do you dare to compete? Whoever loses must serve as the other’s horse and servant—do you dare!”
Luo Xinci thought the girl was so angry she was tripping over her words. Then Jiang Liyang drawled, “Dare I? Of course. But first, tell me clearly—this ‘horse and servant,’ the word *liu*… what exactly does it mean?”
He stretched the syllable long, and the crowd burst into laughter. Even the maids watching from the private room laughed until they could hardly stop.
Seeing Luo Xinci and Lianxing bewildered, one maid explained with a grin: “That girl is the daughter of Lord Fan, Protector of the Northern Frontier. She only entered the capital this year. Perhaps because she mixed with rough folk outside the frontier, her accent is muddled. At the New Year’s banquet, when the Empress Dowager asked her name, she said she was Fan Ling…”
The three maids broke into laughter again before continuing: “In fact, her name is Fan Ning.”
Luo Xinci and Lianxing exchanged glances.
While the maids explained, the quarrel below grew fiercer. It was clear that Fan Ning had fallen into a disadvantage, caught by Jiang Liyang on her slip of accent.
Luo Xinci thought it shameful for a young lady to be mocked in the street. She hesitated, wondering whether to step in and divert Jiang Liyang’s attention, when amid the noisy clamor of the street a new voice rang out.
“What a coincidence, to meet Young Master here.”
The voice was not as loud as Jiang Liyang’s or Fan Ning’s, muffled by the crowd and vendors. By the time it reached Luo Xinci’s ears, it was faint, yet still familiar.
The man continued: “Just a quarter-hour ago I saw Prince Ning. His Highness is looking for you.”
This sentence was much clearer.
Luo Xinci’s face changed. She shot to her feet, clutching the half-open window, startling all the maids in the room. Only Lianxing understood—she too hurried to look.
On the street stood a young man in official robes. He placed himself before Fan Ning, smiling politely as he addressed Jiang Liyang.
The dignified red robe marked his rank. Common folk dared gather to watch Jiang Liyang and Fan Ning’s squabble, but at the sight of an official they instinctively shrank back and dispersed.
Lianxing gazed at the man, whose bearing was sharpened by the robe’s authority, and realized: this must be Zhou Yi. She had never seen Zhou Yi, but had heard his name often—Linzhou’s most outstanding student at the Wencheng Academy, excelling in both learning and conduct, far surpassing his peers. Turning to Luo Xinci, she saw her mistress gripping the window frame, staring fixedly at Zhou Yi below, her chest rising and falling violently. Once praised by all as her betrothed, now suspected of plotting against her entire family—no wonder Luo Xinci’s heart was in turmoil.
Lianxing lightly touched her arm. Luo Xinci turned, aware of her loss of composure, and quickly lowered her gaze to hide her emotions. Slowly, her hands released the window frame, and she stepped back.
“Miss, do you know that man?” one maid asked.
Quick-witted Lianxing interjected, “Who is he? Looks like he’s helping Miss Fan out of trouble. He seems rather decent.”
The maid replied, “That is Zhou Yi, last autumn’s *Second Place Scholar*. After the palace exam, he entered the Hanlin Academy directly, winning the favor of several ministers. His future is limitless.”
“So handsome—could he be chosen as a son-in-law from the examination list?”
The maid laughed. “Several families have thought of it, but he said he was already betrothed in his ancestral home. It cannot be forced.”
Lianxing praised softly, “Truly a man of feeling and honor.”
Their brief exchange bought Luo Xinci the time she needed to regain her composure. She steadied herself and, in a deliberately stiff tone, said: “What has he to do with me? I am angry at Jiang Liyang! To mock a young lady in the street—he has gone too far!”
It sounded as though she had lost her composure only because Jiang Liyang’s bullying reminded her of being deceived before. The three maids glanced at one another but said nothing.
When the tension in the room eased, Luo Xinci looked out again. Jiang Liyang was already leaving with his attendants. After a few steps, he turned back and called: “The archery contest is five days hence at the southern drill grounds, not at Chenglan. Fan Ling, don’t mistake the place!” Laughing loudly, he departed.
Fan Ning stamped her foot in fury, while Zhou Yi spoke quietly at her side, offering comfort. Their voices were too low, drowned by the noise of the street, and Luo Xinci could not hear them. Soon Fan Ning’s expression softened, and she left with her retinue. Zhou Yi mounted his carriage and gradually disappeared from Luo Xinci’s sight.
When the street returned to its usual bustle, Luo Xinci sat upstairs, drank two cups of tea, and calmed herself completely before returning to the residence with the maids.
At the Marquis’s household, only Princess Shao’an remained secluded in her Buddha hall. No one asked about Luo Xinci’s outing, leaving her free to reflect quietly on the day’s events.
That night, after the maids had withdrawn, Lianxing extinguished the candles in the outer room and leaned close to the bed, whispering: “Miss, what do you plan to do next?”
Luo Xinci frowned delicately, hesitating. “I don’t know if I should acknowledge Zhou Yi…”
The mastermind who had sent assassins against the Luo family clearly wished to sever all ties. Since Zhou Yi had not concealed his betrothal, the culprit was unlikely to be him.
Lianxing said, “Zhou Yi is steadfast, and now he serves in court. He could help you greatly. If you believe him trustworthy, then meet him.”
Luo Xinci lifted her eyes. In her dark irises, the whites were veiled with uncertainty. Lianxing was struck silent, realizing her mistress could not fully trust him.
“Actually…” Luo Xinci spoke slowly, weighing her words, “I don’t really know him.”
“What?”
“This marriage was arranged by my uncle. Since the betrothal, I’ve only met him five times. Even the exchange of tokens was done in my uncle’s presence…”
Years ago, Luo Shang’s marriage had been arranged by the same uncle—a single decision that ruined her life. Regret weighed heavily on him, so when arranging Luo Xinci’s betrothal, he had been especially cautious.
Before Zhou Yi entered the capital to sit for the examinations, the Zhou family had suggested that the two marry sooner. Luo Xinci’s uncle strongly opposed it, insisting they wait until Zhou Yi achieved success before allowing the marriage. His reasoning was clear: if Zhou Yi passed and then never returned, the betrothal could be annulled in time. Though Luo Xinci’s reputation might suffer somewhat, it would not be as disastrous as Luo Shang’s fate—cast aside as a discarded wife. Her uncle’s care and foresight left a deep impression on Luo Xinci, and she remembered it well. That was why she now hesitated. She knew plainly that, in truth, she and Zhou Yi were not close enough to entrust him with her life.
“What should we do then?” Lianxing sighed, sharing her mistress’s dilemma.
The two pondered late into the night. When the lamps in the courtyard finally burned out, Luo Xinci said, “Today was only the first time I’ve seen him. Let’s observe him for a while longer. There’s no need to rush into a decision.”
Lianxing murmured assent. The two extinguished the lights and went to sleep.