While Jiang Wan was enjoying songs and dances over there, Xie Changlin was interrogating someone in the underground water prison of the Eastern Depot.
The dim, damp environment was filled with the pungent smell of blood, mixed with the stench of prisoners’ incontinence or vomit, making the air here even more unbearable.
Those coming and going had long grown accustomed to it, their expressions unchanged. However, with the Lord of a Thousand Years present these past two days, they kept their heads down and worked with even more reverence and caution than usual.
Xie Changlin was still dressed in a red robe embroidered with cranes. The white cranes were stained red, their eyes seeming to drip blood, appearing both terrifying and ferocious.
After Ling Chuan and his men had roughly cleared away the scattered pieces of flesh on the ground, he poured Xie Changlin a cup of tea.
“Your Eminence, shall we have lunch first?”
Xie Changlin didn’t respond. His calm, dark eyes swept toward the clean table opposite, lingering for only a moment before withdrawing, giving the illusion that he had merely glanced at it casually.
But Ling Chuan, having served him for so many years, understood immediately. He raised the corner of his lips and mentioned without any pretense, “The pastries from the palace haven’t been delivered yet.”
Xie Changlin glanced at him. “Did I ask about that?”
“Yes, I spoke out of turn.”
Ling Chuan lightly slapped his own cheek as a gesture of apology, then added, “This man’s lips are sealed tight. We’ve interrogated him for three days and nights without rest, but we still can’t pry anything out.”
Following his gaze, a middle-aged man soaked in saltwater could be seen, with not a single patch of intact flesh left on his body. His features were no longer recognizable, and he was barely clinging to life, drifting in and out of consciousness. His hands were still shackled by iron chains, preventing him from collapsing completely.
“That old thing raised a loyal dog,” Xie Changlin remarked, his brow faint as if veiled in mist. He took a sip of hot tea and stood up. “Give him a quick end.”
With that, he walked out. The sunlight stung his eyes, making him squint slightly. Just then, Xin Chang came jogging over. “Your Eminence, shall we have the meal now?”
Xie Changlin’s gaze swept over Xin Chang’s empty hands, and he lazily curled his lips. “Return to the palace.”
Upon receiving the tip-off from Rong Qing, Jiang Wan immediately put down what she was doing and hurried eagerly to the Qu Palace to find Xie Changlin.
Xie Changlin had just finished bathing and changed into a set of white clothes. Although his expression remained gloomy, his exquisitely handsome features reminded Jiang Wan of the saying, “A gentleman unparalleled in the world.”
Her eyes lit up with undisguised joy as she ran straight toward Xie Changlin and threw herself into his arms.
“Your Eminence, you’re finally back! Did you miss me?”
Her fluffy head nuzzled against his chest, her voice sticky and kitten-like. “Your Eminence smells so nice.”
Xie Changlin spread his hands, looking expressionlessly at the bundle snuggling in his arms. “Get up.”
“No way. That day, you told me not to run around, and I’ve been so obedient, studying account books in the palace every day. Later, I didn’t know what Your Eminence was busy with. Every time I came, I couldn’t find you. I was so aggrieved.”
“I see Her Ladyship isn’t aggrieved in the slightest. Listening to music and enjoying performances seems to bring her great joy.”
He hadn’t believed a single word of her previous explanation and had ordered her to be watched even more closely. Thus, he knew exactly what Jiang Wan had been doing every day.
Jiang Wan wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up slightly, grinning playfully. “Does Your Eminence want to come with me to see? The Music Bureau has prepared several performances, each more stunning than the last.”
Xie Changlin’s expression grew even colder. He pulled her away from his embrace, walked to a chair, and sat down. Picking up a memorial Rong Qing had just delivered, he glanced at it and chuckled softly. “Thanks to Her Ladyship’s efforts, the emperor now dares to approve the allocation of funds.”
Jiang Wan shrank back a little at the mention of this, offering an ingratiating yet guilty smile. “It wasn’t much, just enough for Second Brother to lead troops for support…”
She knew about this matter. Sui County was considered half a military stronghold and also Chu Suian’s hometown. If it were truly seized by troops from another country, Chu Suian would probably cry herself to despair.
That day, she had casually mentioned it to Huan Cheng, and he actually agreed. It seemed he had been pushed to the brink by Jiang Wenshan and the others.
However, before allocating the funds, Huan Cheng had asked Xie Changlin for his opinion. He merely acquiesced, offering a few ambiguous remarks but not obstructing the matter.
Jiang Wan carefully observed his expression, let out a sigh, and took out a red protective talisman embroidered with a very small, gentle-looking crane.
“Your Eminence, I learned to make this myself,” she said, walking over and handing it to Xie Changlin. “Please don’t think it’s ugly.”
The crane embroidery was far from ugly; on the contrary, it was exquisitely crafted.
Five days ago, Rong Qing had reported that the Eastern Depot and Second Brother’s men had clashed. Xie Changlin was ambushed, and although he wasn’t injured, Jiang Wan had been so worried that she couldn’t sleep the entire night.
The next day, she got up early and asked Chu Suian to teach her how to make a protective talisman. Suian said that a talisman didn’t necessarily need to be blessed by a master—as long as one’s heart was sincere enough.
Jiang Wan felt she had poured all the sincerity of her life into embroidering this talisman.
She didn’t mention how many failed attempts she had made or how many times she had pricked her fingers with the needle.
She simply said earnestly, “I hope Your Eminence remains safe and sound from now on.”
After Jiang Wan left, Xie Changlin gently stroked the gentle crane with his fingertips before summoning Rong Qing.
“Perhaps you should go serve the Empress instead?”
This emotionless remark terrified Rong Qing, who knelt on the ground, not daring to lift his head, trembling. “This servant knows his mistake! Lord of a Thousand Years, please… please punish me.”
“Twenty lashes. Go receive them yourself.”
“Thank you for your mercy, Your Eminence!”
A short while later, Little Rongzi, clutching his bloodied and bruised buttocks, tearfully thought to himself that he would never dare to report to the little Empress again.
However, he also knew that if it had been anyone else—anyone other than Her Ladyship—he would certainly not be alive to cry here.
After meeting Xie Changlin, Jiang Wan was in an excellent mood. She wandered leisurely to the theater stage, where the Music Bureau performers were still rehearsing. After searching around, she found Guanchu.
The young man held a pipa, looking so delicate that a gust of wind might blow him away. Jiang Wan unconsciously softened her voice. “Are you sure you want to perform solo? I think pairing it with a dance would be even better.”
Guanchu’s features were as delicate as a painting, his thin lips curling slightly as he replied in a clear voice, “If a beauty with Your Ladyship’s grace were to accompany Guanchu, he would be overjoyed.”
Qiaoqiao frowned and scolded angrily, “How dare you! How could you even think of Her Ladyship!”
Jiang Wan stopped her and turned her gaze back to the meek Guanchu. She recalled Director Yang’s earlier complaint, spoken with great frustration: “This musician is excellent in every way, except he’s too proud. He believes there isn’t a single dance in An Chu worthy of accompanying his pipa music.”
She wanted to say she couldn’t dance, but Jiang Wan herself had indeed practiced dance since childhood. Guanchu’s suggestion likely stemmed from having heard about this.
“Play another piece for me.”
“Yes.”
Jiang Wan sat to the side, quietly watching him.
Each pluck of the strings was restrained, each note filled with longing, as if lamenting a lifetime of unfulfilled ambitions.
It had to be said, he had the talent to justify his pride. His skill with the pipa was likely unmatched by few in the world.
When the piece ended, everyone present found it difficult to snap back to reality, their expressions still tinged with melancholy.
Qiaoqiao stood nearby, somewhat displeased. “Your Highness, why is he playing such a sorrowful tune for you?”
She couldn’t help but curve her lips, yet she did not point it out.
Then she saw Guanchu’s limpid eyes, like autumn waters, glance over, shimmering with a gentle glow.
“Summon someone to choreograph a dance for me.”