Fan Changyu had already seen Xie Zheng kill someone in the pine forest, so she didn’t find it strange. She nodded and said, “My husband used to be a bodyguard; his martial skills aren’t bad.”

She hadn’t met many bodyguards in her life. Her father’s martial arts were already formidable, and since Xie Zheng claimed he had once worked in an escort agency, she naturally assumed that all bodyguards possessed good kung fu—after all, they often faced desperate bandits who came to rob the caravans.

Zheng Wenchang kept his gaze fixed on Xie Zheng, his expression unreadable.

Carpenter Zhao had already squeezed his way into the attic. Seeing the room full of corpses, he let out an “Aiya!” of fright, his heart quivering, though he and his wife had lived through wars in their younger years.

Back then, nine out of ten homes were empty, and corpses littered the roadsides—so now, he was still able to keep relatively calm. Fearing that he might worsen Xie Zheng’s injuries, he didn’t dare move him rashly; instead, he crouched down and placed his fingers on the man’s wrist to take his pulse.

Half of the man’s face was caked in blood and hard to see clearly. Suddenly, Zheng Wenchang said, “Turn him over and let’s take a look.”

Carpenter Zhao didn’t understand why this military officer made such a request, but he dared not defy an order. Judging by their attire, they were from the army—the leader wore armor and a sword, his bearing dignified, clearly of higher rank than a county magistrate. Perhaps he could help Fan Changyu uncover who these enemies were.

Carpenter Zhao immediately began to lament: “Sir, you must stand up for us! This girl’s life is full of hardship. Just last month, she lost her parents. She finally managed to take in a husband, and now her husband’s been wounded like this by these villains. If we don’t find out who they are, how can she go on living in peace…”

The moment Zheng Wenchang heard that the man was a live-in son-in-law, the suspicion in his heart instantly dissolved by more than half.

That person’s temperament—how could he possibly… Even if he were to fall from grace, even if the emperor himself threw him into the imperial prison and forced him to marry a princess as a live-in son-in-law, he would never agree.

Just then, a soldier downstairs shouted in alarm, “My lord! There’s one still alive!”

Before Carpenter Zhao could turn Xie Zheng over, Zheng Wenchang suddenly felt his earlier suspicion absurd to the extreme. He no longer cared to look closer. Remembering his general’s orders, he hurried downstairs, merely instructing two of his personal guards to drag the corpses in the attic down as well.

Fan Changyu had no idea how close things had come just now. Since soldiers were guarding downstairs, she wasn’t worried about her younger sister or Auntie Zhao’s safety. She asked Carpenter Zhao, “Uncle Zhao, how is he?”

After finishing the pulse check, Carpenter Zhao began to doubt himself deeply. It had been over a decade since he last worked as a village healer for livestock—perhaps his medical skills had gone dull, or maybe he had made a mistake.

The man before him was covered in blood and looked gravely wounded, yet his pulse wasn’t the least bit dangerous?

The wrinkles on his already furrowed forehead deepened as he concentrated and took the pulse again.

His grave expression frightened Fan Changyu badly. Thinking that Xie Zheng was beyond saving, she slumped onto a low stool, dejected. “I should’ve written the divorce letter earlier and let him go recover somewhere else. Otherwise, how could he have suffered like this…”

Carpenter Zhao checked again and found the pulse still steady and even. He sank into deep self-doubt, his old face growing ever more serious, just as he was about to examine the wounds.

At that moment, the man lying on the floor slowly regained consciousness.

Fan Changyu’s eyes were slightly red; seeing him wake, her emotions surged wildly. Unable to hold back, she broke into a wide smile of joy. “You’re awake!”

Xie Zheng froze for a moment when he saw her reddened eyes and that smile so bright with relief.

Was she afraid something had happened to him—had she almost cried?

The strange feeling in his chest grew heavier.

He lowered his eyes, coughed weakly twice, and from his blood-stained lips came a few words: “I’m fine.”

Most of the blood on him belonged to those men in black. The cuts on his clothes were ones he had made himself to fake an injury—only the outermost layer of skin had been scraped.

Although Zheng Wenchang was not under his command, they had met a few times before. If Zheng Wenchang had recognized him tonight, there would have been only two possible outcomes: either he would be taken back and handed over to Wei Yan, or he would have to kill Zheng Wenchang and his soldiers before fleeing elsewhere.

Fortunately, he had managed to avoid both of those worst outcomes.

He said he was fine, but Fan Changyu—who had already seen him gravely injured twice—and Carpenter Zhao were still extremely anxious. After helping him lie down on the bed, they fetched medicine to bandage him.

When Fan Changyu loosened his outer robe, she discovered that the garments underneath were not soaked in blood as before—in fact, they were far cleaner than the outer robe. Just as she was beginning to feel puzzled, Aunt Zhao’s voice called from downstairs, saying the soldiers needed her to give a statement.

The man lying on the bed had only wiped off a thin layer of blood from his face. In the candlelight, the remaining streaks of red appeared strangely beautiful. He opened his eyes slightly and looked at her, his voice uncharacteristically gentle: “Go on.”

Fan Changyu thought it must be because he was too weak—he looked so pale, so fragile, that it evoked pity.

Before leaving, she glanced back at him again, worried. “I’ll be back soon.”

The bodies of the men in black had already been dragged out by the soldiers and laid side by side. The townsfolk, hearing the commotion and seeing soldiers all over the street, had come out in their nightclothes to watch the scene.

After the soldiers finished counting the number of corpses, they found one survivor—the very man Fan Changyu had slapped unconscious earlier.

The soldiers had already encountered cases where assassins bit down on the poison hidden behind their teeth to kill themselves, so they acted with experience. Finding that he was still breathing, they quickly removed the poison capsule from his mouth. Now he was bound tightly with ropes, his mouth stuffed full of cloth—suicide was no longer an option.

The officer’s bodyguard asked Fan Changyu a few questions, and she answered honestly. They were all basic questions about her household.

Afterward, the officer said to her, “Wait for news. Once the interrogation is concluded, the yamen will inform you of the results.”

Having witnessed the cruelty of those people tonight, Fan Changyu was deeply shaken. Afraid that the villains might return for revenge and bring trouble upon the Zhao family, she asked, “Sir, what if they come back seeking vengeance?”

The officer started to speak, then stopped himself. After frowning and thinking for a moment, he said, “This general will leave a few soldiers in the area to guard in secret. Until the interrogation is complete, they will not withdraw.”

Only then did Fan Changyu feel relieved, showering the officer with praise.

Before leaving, the officer gave her one last glance, his expression faintly complex.

Once the soldiers were gone, Fan Changyu went to the well at the alley entrance to fetch water. She cleaned the courtyard and the attic of bloodstains, though the faint metallic scent still lingered in the air.

She thought about climbing over the wall to fetch the incense her mother used to make, to purify the place, but recalling what the officer had said about leaving men to watch the area, she didn’t dare move recklessly.

The two elder members of the Zhao family were too shaken to sleep. They rekindled the fire pit in the main hall and sat there warming themselves with Changning, sighing from time to time.

Changning, still young and unaware of what the adults were worrying about, felt reassured now that the danger had passed. She went back to the chicken coop to watch the gyrfalcon inside.

By now, that cage had basically become the gyrfalcon’s nest.

Fan Changyu asked her younger sister, “Ning-niang, are you still sleepy?”

Changning shook her head, then pointed at the cage where the gyrfalcon was kept. “Elder Sister, the falcon is very good. Let’s not keep the falcon locked up anymore, alright?”

The last time she and her brother-in-law were at home, it was because she had been playing and opened the chicken coop door that the group of bandits managed to rush in afterward—yet it was this very falcon that had swooped down and killed one of the intruders.

In her little head, she thought that if the falcon hadn’t been locked up tonight, it might have been able to injure the bad men again.

But in truth, the cage hadn’t been closed by Fan Changyu. Aunt Zhao said, “The meat hanging above the fire pit was pecked off last night. I was afraid that big falcon would steal more to eat, so I shut it in before going to bed.”

Fan Changyu said, “We’ll have Yan Zheng train it later.”

At the mention of Yan Zheng, she inevitably thought again of his injuries and asked Carpenter Zhao, “Uncle Zhao, how are his wounds?”

Carpenter Zhao wanted to say they all seemed to be superficial, but fearing he might have misdiagnosed and delay Yan Zheng’s treatment, he sighed and said, “You know this old man used to tend to pigs, cattle, sheep, and horses. Treating people depends somewhat on luck. I don’t think his condition is dangerous, but to be safe, best have a proper doctor from the medical hall take a look tomorrow.”

Fan Changyu agreed. When she went upstairs to see Xie Zheng, she found the blood on his face had been wiped clean. He was lying on the bed with his eyes closed, resting.

Perhaps hearing her footsteps, he opened his eyes as she entered and asked, “How is it?”

Fan Changyu said, “I think these soldiers are far more reliable than the county magistrate. I heard that the magistrate wrote a report to the prefecture, and upon learning how rampant the bandits are here, the prefectural lord sent troops to suppress them. They just happened to run into them tonight.”

Speaking of this, Fan Changyu looked rather cheerful. “There have been bandits in Jizhou for years. It seems the government really means to clean up those mountain dens. That officer said they’d thoroughly investigate the two assassination attempts and even sent soldiers to protect us in secret. You can rest and recover these next few days; no need to rush to leave.”

The expression on Xie Zheng’s face was far from pleasant. “Protect us in secret?”

Fan Changyu nodded. “That’s right.”

Xie Zheng almost lost his breath. He had just barely managed to deceive them for now, and now the Jizhou prefectural troops were keeping watch right under his nose?

Still, this sudden move from the prefecture puzzled even him.

Forget it—the most dangerous place is also the safest place.

He said, “These next few days, keep that falcon upstairs. Don’t let it out. It’s too wild and untrained—it could hurt someone.”

Fan Changyu said, “No wonder! Aunt Zhao said earlier that the falcon pecked off a piece of meat hanging above the fire pit last night!”

Xie Zheng: “……”

Fan Changyu was already standing up. “I’ll go bring it up now!”

Only then did Xie Zheng give a faint “Alright.”

· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

At dawn, Zheng Wenchang was already galloping back toward the Jizhou Prefecture.

Carrying the written confession from the interrogation of the man in black, he strode swiftly through the winding covered corridors. The courtyard, filled with snow pines, was guarded by armored sentries who, upon recognizing him, all stepped aside to let him pass.

Zheng Wenchang entered the study and stopped below the steps. Whether from excitement or the haste of his arrival, his voice carried a trace of breathlessness. “My lord, following your orders, this subordinate stationed men early in Lin’an Town. Indeed, last night we captured those responsible for the serial murders committed in Qingping County. However…”

His hand trembled slightly as he presented the written confession.

“Please, my lord, look over the statement.”

The man seated at the desk had hair already streaked with white. It seemed he had long known the identities of those men in black. Calmly, he said, “Wenchang, you were merely sent to capture mountain bandits and thieves—what is there to fear?”

Zheng Wenchang lowered his head. “This subordinate is frightened.”

“That’s enough. Leave the confession here.”

He Jingyuan set down his brush and lifted his gaze. Though a military general, he bore the gentle air of a scholar. Understanding the concerns of the trusted officer before him, he said, “Just pretend you never read that confession. You may go.”

Zheng Wenchang clasped his fists. “Yes, my lord.”

He had just turned to leave when a voice called again behind him.

“In that household—was anyone injured?”

Zheng Wenchang thought for a moment before answering, “That woman took in a husband. Her husband was wounded by those men.”

He Jingyuan merely nodded.

Zheng Wenchang, gathering his courage, asked, “My lord, does that household have some connection with you?”

“Wenchang, what did I teach you about the conduct of an official?”

With just that one line, cold sweat broke out over Zheng Wenchang’s back.

“This subordinate has misspoken.”

“Withdraw.”

He Jingyuan picked up a memorial beside the desk and began reading it, appearing unconcerned with whatever was written in the confession.

Only after Zheng Wenchang had left the study did his old eyes shift toward the document. After a moment’s hesitation, he finally opened it.

When he finished reading, he let out a long sigh.

He rose, opened a hidden compartment in the bookshelf, and took out a brocade box. Yet he did not open it. Instead, speaking to someone unseen, he murmured softly, “When you entrusted this to me back then, you must have already foreseen such a day would come. You wanted me to protect those two children for you… didn’t you?”