Rulan woke to another cold morning under lockdown.
The wind had picked up overnight, slipping through the wooden lattice and leaving the stone floor unpleasantly chilly.
She had little desire to abandon her quilt, but the smell of warm barley porridge eventually persuaded her to sit up when Lian’er entered with breakfast.
“Your Highness, the guards changed shifts an hour ago,” the maid said, arranging the dishes on the bedside table.
“I heard that the attendant detained near the grain stores yesterday is still being questioned.”
“Has General Meng discovered anything about the horses?”
“Nothing that the guards are willing to share.”
Rulan accepted her bowl with a sigh.
White Cloud Temple had offered her fresh mountain air, an excellent physician who had promptly disappeared, and an extended stay she had never requested.
Even the porridge was beginning to feel like a personal insult.
Beneath the quilt, she flexed her right foot.
Her ankle had improved considerably since the staged fall, although a faint ache remained whenever she moved it too sharply.
What she truly needed was Lu Zhen’s proper examination, not another day of sitting in her pavilion while the guards marched past her windows.
“Prepare my cloak,” she told Lian’er after finishing breakfast.
“We’ll visit Duchess Shen later this morning.”
“Shall I bring the tea leaves we collected yesterday?”
“Of course. We cannot keep eating her pastries without contributing something.”
The maid smiled and went to prepare their things.
Rulan had come to enjoy the duchess’s company, and a quiet visit seemed preferable to spending another morning wondering when the mountain would allow them to leave.
In the lower guardroom, General Meng listened as the detained attendant repeated his account.
A-Shun sat opposite him, exhausted and frightened, but his story had remained consistent.
His master had fallen ill in the lower valley and sent him ahead to inform Duchess Shen that he would be delayed.
He had reached the temple the previous evening, before the gates were sealed.
“Then why did you never report to her household?” General Meng asked.
“A man stopped me near the outer archway, General. He wore the grey tunic of the temple security staff and said all arriving servants had to be checked.” A-Shun rubbed his hands against his knees.
“He searched my pack, took my travel pass, and told me to wait in the lower service corridor until someone came to escort me.”
No escort had arrived.
When he finally tried to find his own way, he wandered into the lower supply grounds, where soldiers later detained him.
General Meng studied him for a moment before asking for a description of the man.
“Tall and thin, with a dark mole near his left jaw. He wore a grey tunic, not Imperial Guard armor.”
The general turned to his lieutenant, who was standing beside the interrogation table.
“Check yesterday’s assignments. Was anyone from the temple security staff authorized to receive civilian arrivals at that passage?”
The lieutenant consulted the duty register and shook his head.
Their soldiers had controlled the entrance directly, and no temple worker had been assigned to intercept arriving servants.
A-Shun looked up hopefully.
“Then you believe me?”
“I believe someone may have taken your pass,” General Meng replied.
“That does not yet explain everything you were doing near the grain stores.”
The attendant lowered his head, evidently disappointed, but General Meng had no intention of releasing him before his account could be verified.
He instructed his lieutenant to examine the temple’s worker assignments and identify anyone matching the description.
Someone had directed A-Shun toward the service grounds.
Whether that person had also been involved in poisoning the horses remained to be seen.
By the time Rulan arrived at Duchess Shen’s compound, the peaceful visit she had anticipated was already looking unlikely.
Servants were moving hurriedly between the side chambers, carrying folded garments and storage baskets.
The senior maid greeted her at the entrance with an expression of barely concealed displeasure.
“Her Grace will explain, Your Highness. Please come inside.”
The duchess was seated beside her tea table, her staff resting within reach.
Despite the disturbance, she welcomed Rulan warmly and invited her to sit.
“Forgive the disorder, Princess. It seems someone has paid my household an uninvited visit.”
“An intruder?”
“One of our travel chests was opened while the servants were occupied with the morning charcoal delivery. We are still checking whether anything has been taken.”
The senior maid stepped forward to explain that the jewelry box and silver tea set had been left untouched, although the clothing and smaller belongings inside the chest had been disturbed.
That was rather strange.
A thief willing to enter a noble household’s private rooms would hardly overlook valuables sitting within reach.
“Did anyone see who entered?” Rulan asked.
“A temple supply worker came through the side passage with the charcoal cart,” the maid replied.
“We assumed he was delivering fuel for the braziers. There are so many workers moving through the grounds at present that no one thought to question him.”
Duchess Shen had already sent word to General Meng.
In the meantime, she instructed her servants to check the remaining chests and preserve the delivery record.
Rulan stayed with her rather than joining the search.
There was little point in examining a room that half the household had already entered, especially when the servants were more familiar with its contents than she was.
“Perhaps someone thought Your Grace had brought a particularly valuable treasure up the mountain,” she remarked.
“If so, they have wasted their morning.”
“Unless they were looking for something smaller.”
The duchess’s gaze rested on her briefly before she took a sip of tea.
“That is what concerns me.”
Rulan did not press her.
Whatever the intruder had wanted, Duchess Shen was entitled to decide how much of her private affairs she wished to discuss.
The report reached General Meng while his lieutenant was reviewing the temple’s supply records.
Two servants had described the unfamiliar worker as tall and thin, with a dark mole near his left jaw.
General Meng looked up from the report.
The description was almost identical to the one A-Shun had given him that morning.
The charcoal delivery roster identified a worker named Zhou, who had been employed by the temple for three years.
His duties included deliveries to the guest compounds and occasional work around the lower grain stores, giving him access to both locations without attracting much attention.
“Where is he now?” Meng asked.
“Assigned to the timber yard, General.”
“Have him brought in. Quietly.”
The lieutenant bowed and left to carry out the order.
General Meng remained at the table, studying the two reports.
The resemblance was strong, but he wanted Zhou questioned before deciding how far the connection went.
By the time the servants finished restoring the storage room, the disturbance at Duchess Shen’s compound had settled enough for fresh tea to arrive.
A plate of sesame cakes and steamed jujube pastries followed, immediately improving Rulan’s opinion of the morning.
“You must have something, Princess,” Duchess Shen said, pushing the plate toward her.
“An unpleasant morning is no reason to neglect one’s appetite.”
“I would never allow such a thing, Duchess.”
She selected a sesame cake and took an appreciative bite.
The filling was fragrant, and the outer layer still held a little warmth from the kitchen.
Duchess Shen watched her with amusement.
“Your visits have become a pleasant part of this unexpected stay.”
“The feeling is mutual. Your Grace’s household is also the only place on this mountain determined to feed me properly.”
“Please don’t say that too loudly. Lian’er will start expecting me to behave well enough to earn an invitation.”
“Your Highness!” Lian’er protested from beside the doorway.
Duchess Shen laughed, and the conversation gradually moved toward more ordinary matters.
She recalled a previous visit when an early snowfall had stranded her household for two days, leaving them to endure a week of thin vegetable soup.
“A week?” Rulan asked, looking genuinely horrified.
“The monks were very generous with their prayers.”
“I would have preferred an extra bowl of rice.”
“Precisely what I told the abbot.”
Their laughter eased the atmosphere, and for a little while the intrusion was forgotten.
Rulan found herself enjoying the duchess’s company despite the unfortunate beginning to her visit.
Duchess Shen had a way of speaking about the past without turning every memory into a lesson for the younger generation.
When Rulan prepared to leave, the senior maid returned with news that nothing else appeared to be missing.
The duchess instructed her to keep the storage rooms locked and ensure that no unfamiliar workers entered the private quarters without someone from the household accompanying them.
Rulan glanced toward the side passage as she rose.
The intruder had risked entering the compound, opened a chest, and left the valuables untouched.
She knew too little about Duchess Shen’s private affairs to guess what he had been searching for, but she hoped General Meng would find him before he tried again.
The duchess accompanied her to the reception-room entrance, where Lian’er was entrusted with a small parcel of pastries for the journey back.
Rulan accepted the gift without protest.
At least one part of her visit had gone according to plan.
Near the lower timber yard, Zhou was carrying an empty basket past the stacked firewood when four Imperial Guards stepped into his path.
“Master Zhou?”
“Yes?”
“You are required for questioning.”
He glanced toward the passage leading to the outer trail, only to find two more soldiers positioned behind him.
His grip tightened around the basket.
“I have duties in the kitchen,” he began.
“If this concerns the deliveries, the steward can explain—”
“You can explain them to General Meng.”
Zhou dropped the basket and tried to push past the nearest soldier.
He barely managed two steps before they caught him, securing his arms behind his back and forcing him to his knees.
By the time General Meng arrived, the worker was kneeling, his face pale.
“Search him.”
A sergeant examined his apron and inner tunic, removing a small leather pouch from beneath his sash.
Inside were several copper coins, an iron key, and a folded travel permit.
General Meng accepted the document and examined its seal.
It belonged to the household expecting A-Shun’s master, and when he unfolded it, the attendant’s name was written inside.
A-Shun had claimed that the supposed security worker took his pass.
Now that same document had been found in Zhou’s possession.
“Have the attendant identify him,” General Meng ordered, handing the permit to his lieutenant.
“Then bring Zhou to the guardroom.”
The worker opened his mouth as though to speak, but the general had no intention of questioning him in the yard.
There would be time for explanations once he was secured.
The permit connected Zhou to A-Shun, while his supply duties placed him near both the grain stores and Duchess Shen’s compound.
The search of the travel chest suggested that someone had been looking for something the attendant had not carried.
General Meng turned toward the lower guardroom, leaving his soldiers to escort the prisoner.
He had found the man who intercepted A-Shun.
Now he needed to learn who had given Zhou his instructions—and what they had expected him to find.