Night had deepened, and the wind in the courtyard behind Huaisu Hall grew sharp.

  Li Qing sat in silence upon the stone steps for a long while. His face still bore that familiar sorrow, yet somehow his shadow seemed only half there.

  We spoke no further. I helped carry him back inside, laid him down gently. Before leaving, Gu said one thing only:

  “Trust me—yours is not the only injustice in this case.”

  Mu turned and glanced at me, lips moving slightly, but no sound followed.

  I knew he was holding something back and did not press him.

  Not until we had slipped away from the rear courtyard did I finally whisper:

  “Don’t you think... maybe Li Qing’s plan failed because someone found out ahead of time?”

  Gu nodded.

  “He said their secret signal was ‘three days after, at the tomb sweeping’. Yet that was precisely the day Miss Liu died—and her father went spreading tales of ‘ghostly possession’. Too neat, too convenient.”

  “Someone stopped her,” Mu said coldly. “Or forced her hand.”

  A chill crept down my neck.

  Before I could speak again, a faint chime broke the silence—clear and crisp, not the kind sold in markets, but of snow-forged iron from the northern peaks. One ring alone could disturb a cultivator’s inner energy.

  With a clang, I spun around—just in time to see a red silhouette drop from the eaves.

  “Well, well, such courage,” the newcomer drawled, one hand on hip, eyes glinting beneath long lashes. “I leave you two days, and you’re already sneaking into another beauty’s boudoir? Tell me—was she prettier, or simply easier to fool?”

  I froze. I knew that voice.

  Turning, I found exactly who I feared: Lian, the master of the Blood Lotus Sect—red as fire, gaze as sharp as a blade, anger blazing up her brow the instant she saw me.

  “L-Lian?” I forced a laugh. “You—uh—how did you—”

  “Don’t laugh.” Her smile was all venom. “Aren’t you good with words? Explain, then—why did you sneak into a backyard to meet some young man in private? You think I’m dead?”

  “No, no—listen, that was Li Qing—actually, Li Qing is—”

  “Shut up.” Her voice dropped, violent aura flaring. “Say his name again, and I’ll hang you from the Sect gate as a lantern.”

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  I shrank instantly, words dying in my throat.

  From the wall above, another shadow descended—graceful, moonlight tracing his sleeves.

  He carried a fan of purple bamboo, painted with cranes and drifting clouds.

  “Tsk.” Hua Shang, the sect’s right-hand, flicked his fan shut and stepped between us. “Calm yourself, Master. Keep glaring like that, and this one might just wet his pants.”

  “...”

  Hua waved his fan lazily, eyes glancing at me, then at Lian with a faint smile.

  “When I tracked you here, I thought some plot was brewing in Tongming Ward—perhaps remnants of old enemies stirring. Never thought I’d find someone sneaking off the mountain without a word. Quite the righteous errand, hm?”

  Lian’s gaze turned razor-sharp.

  “Say that again?”

  “No, no—please!” I raised both hands. “Brother Hua, you and your fan will be the death of me! Let’s—uh—get back to business, shall we?”

  “You still dare say ‘business’?” Lian’s laugh was pure fury. “Did you tell me you were coming to Tongming Ward?”

  My heart lurched.

  “Well—I didn’t want to bother you! You’re busy, sect affairs and all. If I reported every step, wouldn’t you get tired—”

  “Enough.” He seized my collar, lifting me clear off the floor. “Do you know how big Shenmu Mountain is? Ten days and nearly half a month we searched for you—only to find you pretending to be dead in Chongping City?!”

  Dangling helplessly, I grinned weakly.

  “O-of course, I missed you! That’s why I avoided you—absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

  His eye twitched. He really might kill me this time.

  I darted a glance at Mu, who stood calmly at the side, adjusting his sleeves as though none of this concerned him.

  If they ever learned he’d hidden me in a back yard of Shenmu Village for half a month, I’d already be sacrificed to the mountain gods.

  “Anyway!” I patted Lian’s wrist with forced cheer. “All this is for the greater good—for justice, for truth! Sacrificing myself for others!”

  “You never say one honest word,” he hissed, dropping me.

  “Ow—hey, I’m purifying my soul! Chasing truth! Cultivating virtue!”

  “Say one more word of nonsense and I’ll purify your soul.”

  “...Yes, sir.”

  “Hua, help—”

  “If the Master kills you,” Hua Shang said lightly, “I’ll see to your burial.”

  “...”

  Before I could fake fainting to end this disaster, Gu suddenly coughed, slicing through the tension.

  “If you’re all done arguing,” he said coolly, raising a folded sheet of paper, “perhaps look at this.”

  He unfolded it beneath the lamp.

  “This came from the apothecary near Tongming Ward. Their ledger shows that, a week before her death, someone from the Liu residence—under the name Chun-niang—bought three prescriptions: a calming tonic, an anti-nausea powder, and this…”

  His voice dropped.

  “Abortifacient herb.”

  The air froze.

  I stared, forgetting even to play dead.

  Lian’s smirk vanished. Hua’s fan closed with a soft snap.

  “Why,” Mu murmured, “would Chun-niang need that?”

  “Remember,” Gu said, “Miss Liu’s letter—‘If I can leave to visit the tomb in three days, it means Heaven has granted mercy.’ Perhaps that ‘mercy’ meant more than slipping past her household. Perhaps she was gambling that her own body could still endure.”

  I swallowed hard.

  “She was pregnant.”

  Gu nodded.

  “And someone found out—too soon.”