The following day, the Suzhou Prefect’s residence was sealed off, and the Prefect himself was thrown into a prison cart.
The Crown Prince personally drafted a report detailing everything that had happened in Suzhou before entrusting it to a soldier to deliver to the capital.
The once-arrogant Cheng Yi had been stripped of his luxurious robes.
Now, dressed only in a tattered prison uniform, he slumped lifelessly inside the prison cart.
His face was ashen as he continued mumbling to himself.
“I’ve been wronged…”
“Your Highness, please see the truth…”
“Someone framed me…”
“Bah! Corrupt official!”
Someone in the crowd finally spat out the curse.
Soon, more voices joined in, along with years of suppressed grief and rage.
“Give me back my son!”
“You greedy bastard! This day finally came!”
“Heaven has eyes after all!”
The soldiers maintained order, but they made little effort to stop the people’s outpouring of anger.
“You’ll need to find an inn whose signboard has a pear blossom carved into the lower right corner. When you speak to them, make sure you emphasize that you’re wealthy and insist on their finest private room. Once inside, ask the waiter for nothing except a pot of Pear Blossom Brew…”
The masterminds behind this entire operation—Xiao Yu and Shen Yi—now sat calmly in one such private room, leisurely sipping the Pear Blossom Brew that had just been served.
“What an incredible wine.”
Shen Yi clicked his tongue in admiration.
“I never imagined Suzhou hid such a fine vintage. Why didn’t Cheng Yi present this to the Emperor?”
“Because he’s a corrupt official, not a god of wealth.”
Xiao Yu set down his wine cup.
“A single pot costs one thousand taels of silver. Even the most extravagant young nobles in the capital wouldn’t spend that kind of money. They’re wastrels—not idiots.”
He paused before adding,
“And notice the waiter never mentioned Pear Blossom Brew among the menu options. That means it’s a code phrase.”
Almost as soon as he finished speaking, the waiter returned.
This time, he was accompanied by a man wearing a silver mask.
“Our Pavilion Master has agreed to meet with you.”
The masked man spoke in an emotionless voice.
“But you’ve only purchased one pot of wine.”
“So only one of you may enter.”
“What?!”
Shen Yi shot to his feet.
“One thousand taels just to see one person?!”
“You are free not to meet with them.”
The silver-masked man answered without the slightest ripple of emotion.
Shen Yi was just about to explode when Xiao Yu stopped him.
“I’ll go.”
“Your Highness…”
Shen Yi frowned worriedly.
Xiao Yu simply shook his head before addressing the masked man.
“Please lead the way.”
“This way.”
The room beyond was dimly lit.
Only a single horn lantern cast its faint amber glow through the chamber, while delicate incense drifted lazily through the air.
An exquisitely crafted folding screen divided the room into two halves.
Behind it sat a solitary figure.
Their outline was blurred by the screen, reclining casually, yet somehow exuding an invisible pressure.
The silver-masked attendant silently escorted Xiao Yu inside.
The figure behind the screen made no move to rise.
Instead, a deep, hoarse voice—impossible to tell whether it belonged to a man or woman—slowly spoke.
“An honored guest has arrived.”
“My apologies for not greeting you personally.”
“Please, sit.”
Xiao Yu knelt upon the cushion before the screen.
He wasted no time with pleasantries.
“I’ve long heard of Pavilion Master Qinglan’s reputation.”
“They say there is nothing the You Pavilion does not know.”
“I’ve come today to purchase a piece of information.”
“The rules of the You Pavilion are simple.”
The voice remained perfectly even.
“As long as the price is sufficient, no information is beyond purchase.”
“But what exactly does our guest wish to know?”
“And… on whose behalf?”
Hidden within his sleeve, Xiao Yu’s fingers tightened into a fist.
His face, however, remained composed.
“I wish to know the whereabouts of the legitimate Imperial Princess Xiao Li, who disappeared from the Eastern Palace six years ago.”
“I ask…”
“…for myself.”
Behind the screen, Xiao Yu distinctly saw the shadow suddenly straighten.
Yet the voice remained calm.
“Royal secrets carry a very expensive price.”
“Especially…”
“…when the person’s life or death remains uncertain.”
“Money isn’t an issue.”
Xiao Yu answered without hesitation.
“Oh?”
A faint trace of amusement entered the mysterious voice.
“So far as this Pavilion Master knows…”
“The tragedy in the Eastern Palace back then…”
“…was personally brought about by His Majesty himself.”
“Your Highness, by reopening old wounds now…”
“…do you intend to oppose your imperial father?”
Xiao Yu’s pupils contracted.
Almost no one knew the true cause of that incident.
The fact that this person had effortlessly exposed both the secret—and his identity—
proved that the You Pavilion truly lived up to its reputation.
His voice became urgent.
“My father… had his reasons.”
“I only wish to know where Li’er is.”
“If the You Pavilion truly possesses the omniscience people speak of…”
“…then you should know whether she lives or dies.”
“What convenient ‘reasons.'”
Mockery briefly colored the voice before it became calm once more.
“Naturally, the You Pavilion knows.”
“But knowing…”
“…and telling you…”
“…are two entirely different matters.”
“Your Highness…”
“What exactly do you wish to know?”
“Whether she lives or dies?”
“Where she is now?”
“Or…”
“…what she’s endured over these past six years?”
“Each answer carries its own price.”
A wave of helplessness washed over Xiao Yu.
The Pavilion Master had been circling the issue from the very beginning, refusing to give him a direct answer.
Suppressing his growing impatience, he said,
“Then I’ll ask first…”
“…whether she’s alive.”
“That answer…”
“…costs one thousand taels of gold.”
“I accept.”
There wasn’t the slightest hesitation.
Even if it cost him every possession he owned…
If it meant finding Li’er…
He would gladly pay.
“How refreshing.”
The voice remained as indifferent as ever.
“But before I answer…”
“Permit me one more question.”
“If you find the Princess…”
“…what do you intend to do?”
“Your answer…”
“…may affect the value of mine.”
Xiao Yu frowned deeply.
“She’s my younger sister.”
“Of course I’ll bring her home.”
“I’ll make up for everything she’s suffered all these years.”
“‘Home?'”
A soft laugh escaped from behind the screen.
“I’m afraid…”
“Some people…”
“…have long since ceased to have a home.”
“And perhaps…”
“…no longer wish to return.”
A sharp pain pierced Xiao Yu’s heart.
Nevertheless, he steadied himself.
“That is our family’s affair.”
“It needn’t concern the Pavilion Master.”
“I ask only one thing.”
“Is she…”
“…alive?”
Silence.
An agonizing silence.
Each passing second felt suffocating.
Finally—
the cold voice spoke once more.
Every word struck Xiao Yu squarely in the heart.
“Our guest should know…”
“The You Pavilion’s intelligence has never once been wrong.”
“The answer you seek…”
Xiao Yu unconsciously held his breath.
“The answer is—”
The voice deliberately dragged out the final words, savoring his mounting anxiety.
Xiao Yu’s fingernails dug so deeply into his palms they nearly drew blood.
Every ounce of composure and princely dignity shattered.
He suddenly leaned forward.
His voice trembled with desperation and pleading he himself hadn’t realized were there.
“Wait!”
“I…”
“I only have one last question!”
“My Li’er…”
“Is she…”
“…still alive?”
Gone were the calculations.
Gone was the Crown Prince.
What remained was nothing more than an elder brother—
desperately, humbly begging for hope.
Behind the screen, the figure fell silent for a heartbeat.
Then came an answer so brief…
and so mercilessly direct.
“Alive.”
Xiao Yu exhaled sharply.
His entire body nearly gave way.
An overwhelming surge of joy crashed over him.
His eyes reddened instantly.
She’s alive.
Li’er is alive!
“Where is she?!”
“Tell me!”
he demanded, unable to contain himself.
“Your Highness.”
The voice returned to its impersonal, businesslike tone.
“The answer you purchased was only whether she lives or dies.”
“The next question…”
“…requires separate payment.”
“And besides…”
“Our allotted time for today has ended.”
“You—!”
The words caught in Xiao Yu’s throat.
He had no grounds upon which to argue.
“See our guest out.”
The silver-masked man appeared soundlessly and extended a hand toward the exit.
Xiao Yu took a slow, steadying breath, forcing every turbulent emotion back beneath the surface.
He rose, straightened his robes, and said, his voice still hoarse,
“The gold will be delivered shortly.”
“Next time…”
“I’ll purchase the next answer.”
Without another word, he turned and strode away.
Behind the folding screen, Qinglan slowly removed both the silver mask and the voice-changing mechanism, revealing a face that was all too familiar.
She stared silently in the direction Xiao Yu had disappeared.
Her gaze was impossibly complicated.
After a long while, she murmured softly to herself,
“…Home?”
“I lost my home a long time ago.”