With those black-clad men who could come to take her life at any time now gone, Fan Changyu no longer needed to hastily sell off her belongings and leave Lin’an Town.

She simply settled on a long-term partnership with Yixiang Tower. After the butcher shop reopened, with Yixiang Tower’s name as endorsement, the braised-meat business thrived even better than before, faintly overshadowing Wang Ji’s.

The day before New Year’s Eve, when she returned home from the shop, she saw a rather imposing carriage stopped at the entrance of the alley. She thought the mother and son from the Song family had come back again, but upon entering the alley, she saw a crowd gathered before her own door.

Fan Changyu thought something had happened at home. She squeezed through the crowd. “Excuse me, excuse me…”

A neighbor asked, “Changyu, do you have some rich relatives at home?”

Fan Changyu felt puzzled for no reason and simply said, “No.”

That person asked again, “Could it be relatives from your husband’s side? The carriage stopped at the mouth of the alley looks even grander than the one the Song family used when they moved!”

Only then did Fan Changyu realize—the owner of the carriage parked at the door was here for her family?

Someone nearby interjected, “The carriage the Song family used that day wasn’t even theirs—it was rented from a carriage firm!”

There was already a faint tone of belittlement toward the Song family in those words.

Old Madam Kang, standing by her own door, bared her missing tooth and said, “A bunch of bootlickers—just you wait! When Yan-ge’er goes to the capital and passes the exam as the top scholar, what carriages will he not have then!”

Fan Changyu felt confused but didn’t bother answering the neighbors’ gossip. Once she entered the yard and closed the gate behind her, she finally saw that at the square table in the main room truly sat a noble young gentleman in brocade robes and a jade belt.

The other party looked up at her, smiling slightly and nodding in greeting. Not knowing who he was, Fan Changyu merely imitated him and nodded back.

“The day is already late, so I won’t disturb Young Master Yan and Madam further,” he said, rising to bow toward Xie Zheng. When he turned to Fan Changyu, the smile on his face deepened slightly.

Xie Zheng sat on the other side of the table, his expression indifferent. Though dressed in plain cloth garments, his bearing faintly suppressed that of the noble gentleman. “Take care. I won’t see you out.”

Fan Changyu knew that Yan Zheng always had that foul temper of his. He didn’t move from his stool, so she at least made a polite gesture and walked the guest to the main gate.

After she closed the gate again, shutting out the prying eyes of the neighbors, Fan Changyu asked Xie Zheng, “Who was that man?”

Xie Zheng said, “The owner of the town’s bookshop.”

Fan Changyu picked up the teapot on the table and poured herself some water. “I remember the owner of the bookshop being a bearded old man.”

Xie Zheng said, “That’s the shopkeeper. The real proprietor has always lived in the main city of Jizhou.”

The last time Zhao Xun had come to look for him, all the people in the alley had gone out to work for a living, so no one had seen it. But today, being the end of the year, every household was idle at home, so news spread from one to ten and ten to a hundred, causing such a commotion.

When the tea poured out, Fan Changyu realized it was cold. She held the cup of cold tea and took a sip, glancing at the half-drunk cup left where the noble gentleman had sat. She couldn’t help saying, “You served a guest with cold tea?”

Xie Zheng lifted his eyes and looked at her. From that glance, Fan Changyu could clearly read a meaning of “what else would I use” in his gaze, leaving her momentarily speechless.

Noticing that she had bought another packet of dried-tangerine candy, Xie Zheng pushed the red-paper-wrapped bundle on the table toward her. “Earned some silver writing essays. Keep it.”

Fan Changyu unwrapped the outer red paper, and her apricot eyes showed an expression of utmost astonishment—inside were four silver ingots!

Before she started selling braised meat, the butcher shop hadn’t earned this much even in an entire month!

Fan Changyu was dumbfounded. “Writing essays pays this well?”

Xie Zheng picked up the coarse porcelain cup before him and took a light sip. His fingers, from which the scabs had recently fallen, were slender and defined, like sections of bamboo. “The previous essays sold well. The bookshop gave me some dividends. Among these forty taels, there’s also a deposit for the next batch of essays.”

The few essays he had written had indeed stirred up waves throughout the capital. Although Zhao Xun was a merchant by trade, he had enough skill to hold his ground among wolves. While printing and selling those essays widely to scholars across various provinces, he also concealed their true source.

During the days when the Fan family met their misfortune, her uncle had been conducting a carpet search of every bookshop—otherwise, the number of assassins sent to this small town would have easily doubled.

So, this silver couldn’t really be counted as Zhao Xun’s deliberate attempt to curry favor. Judging purely by the value of those essays, selling them was truly worth a fortune.

All the bookshops under the Zhao family’s name had already made immense profits by reprinting his works in recent days.

Fearing she might grow suspicious, Xie Zheng had deliberately accepted only forty taels. Yet, she still thought it was too much.

Fan Changyu looked at the few gleaming silver ingots by her hand, then looked at Xie Zheng. “So that bookshop owner came all the way here just because he took a liking to your essays?”

Xie Zheng nodded. “The battle in Chongzhou has not yet been won, and factional strife within the court continues. The essays I wrote describing the chaos in Chongzhou may be rough, but they depict what other scholars have never personally experienced. That’s why they sell better.”

Seeing that instead of being pleased by the sight of silver, Fan Changyu had fallen silent, he unconsciously furrowed his brows.

The next moment, he heard her say, “You don’t have to lie to me. I already know.”

The pressure of his fingertips against the cup’s rim tightened slightly. “Know what?”

Fan Changyu lifted her eyes to look at him. “For the bookshop owner to favor you like that, your literary talent must be exceptional. You must have studied extensively in the past. You’re just afraid I might resent you because my former fiancé passed the exam and broke off our engagement—so you’ve been pretending to be only moderately educated, haven’t you?”

Hearing that she was talking about that, the strength in Xie Zheng’s fingers relaxed a little.

Before he could reply, Fan Changyu frowned and continued, “I’m not that petty. There are countless scholars in this world. I can’t possibly think that just because my former fiancé was heartless, every scholar under heaven must be heartless too. I understand at least that much reason—you don’t have to worry about such nonsense.”

Xie Zheng lowered his eyes. “Apologies.”

Fan Changyu waved a hand, indicating it didn’t matter. She herself had once kept it secret from the neighbors that she could fight. This was his own ability—whether he told her or not made no difference to her interests. There was nothing for her to mind.

She only asked out of curiosity, “Since you’ve read so many books, why didn’t you take the imperial exams? Why did you become an escort instead?”

Xie Zheng said, “What I want to do—learning can’t help me with that.”

They had lived together for nearly a month now, but this was the first time Fan Changyu had asked about his past. Since the conversation had already gone this far, she followed up, “Then what is it you want to do?”

A gust of wind passed through the corridor, lifting a stray lock of hair beside Xie Zheng’s temple. He looked toward the thick layer of snow piled upon the courtyard wall and the misty sky beyond. His gaze grew deep and unreadable. “Just as you wish to continue running the butcher shop your father left behind, I wish to finish what my father left undone.”

Fan Changyu lowered her head and thought for a moment, then looked up in surprise, eyes wide. “Don’t tell me your family used to run a security escort agency?”

Those who became escort masters were all people of hardship—otherwise, who would risk their life for a handful of silver?

He was well-learned, skilled in martial arts, and worked as an escort. The more Fan Changyu thought about it, the more she felt that only the young master of an escort bureau could fit his background.

Xie Zheng hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

Fan Changyu suddenly understood. “No wonder you kept saying that once you recover, you’ll be leaving.”

She pushed the forty taels of silver back toward him. “You keep this. Rebuilding an escort bureau costs a lot of money! When the time comes for you to leave, if I’ve got some to spare, I’ll give you a bit more!”

It wasn’t the first time Xie Zheng had heard her mention them parting ways. His external wounds—those hideous gashes that looked frightening—had yet to fully heal, but his internal injuries were mostly mended. Zhao Xun had come earlier that day to tell him he had already purchased two hundred thousand shi of grain.

Before long, he truly would have to go.

At her words, an indescribable feeling stirred in his chest.

He pressed his hand on one of the silver ingots, halting her from pushing it back, his tone carrying a trace of firmness. “It’s for you—medicine money.”

Fan Changyu still refused. “We agreed when you pretended to marry into my family that I’d tend to your injuries. How can I take your money now? That’d make me go back on my word. And you’ve been writing essays while wounded, enduring the cold wind in this house—it can’t have been easy earning this silver…”

The pressure of his hand on the ingot didn’t ease in the slightest. His dark eyes locked onto her. “Candy money?”

Fan Changyu blinked, momentarily stunned, before realizing he was talking about money for the candies she bought him. She answered honestly, “Candy doesn’t cost nearly this much…”

“Then keep it first. Buy more later.”

“Even if I keep buying until you’re healed and gone, I still couldn’t spend this much…”

Her voice trailed off, and she fell silent.

Buy more later—did that mean he thought there would be a later between them?

The firewood in the brazier gave a sharp “crack,” scattering sparks and finally breaking the silence in the room.

He repeated, in the same tone as before, “Keep it.”

Fan Changyu didn’t look at him. Instead, she stared at the hand pressing down on the silver ingot for a while before asking, “What kind of candy do you like?”

Hearing her question, Xie Zheng withdrew his hand. “You choose.”

· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

That night, when Fan Changyu went to sleep, she, who usually slept soundly, found herself staring sleeplessly at the canopy overhead.

She might be open-hearted, but she wasn’t made of wood.

Yan Zheng might have a bad temper and a sharp tongue, but he was kind at heart—otherwise, when bandits stormed the house that day, he wouldn’t have taken Changning and fled with her.

He was handsome, literate, and possessed outstanding martial skill.

She knew he was only staying temporarily—that he would eventually leave—so she had always treated him as a passing guest.

But today, he’d given her such a large sum of silver, saying it was so she could buy him candy in the future.

Fan Changyu suddenly felt her chest in disarray.

She tossed and turned like a pancake, unable to settle, and only drifted into a daze of sleep as dawn began to break.

The next morning, as expected, she woke up late, with faint bluish shadows still under her eyes.

Fortunately, the butcher shop didn’t open on New Year’s Eve or New Year’s Day, so sleeping in didn’t matter.

Yawning, Fan Changyu got up to make glutinous rice dumplings. Outside in the alley came the popping of firecrackers from children at play, and the entire town was wrapped in the tranquil, joyous air of the New Year.

In Chongzhou, just one province away, however, a devastating defeat had just taken place.

· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

The Capital.

The city was adorned with lanterns and festoons, filled with the scent and bustle of the New Year.

An urgent military report, sent by express riders over eight hundred li, passed through Yongding Gate—but instead of being delivered to the imperial palace, it was redirected to the residence of Prime Minister Wei.

A courier on horseback galloped swiftly down the avenue, frost and snow weighing heavily on the elms and poplars on both sides.

Before the gates of the Wei residence, everything was stern and forbidding. Two stone lions clutching pearls bared their fangs, and armored guards stood in a neat wild goose formation. Snow blanketed the walls; even sparrows dared not perch upon the bare branches nearby.

The courier tumbled off his horse, pulled a dispatch from his breast, and held it high above his head. “Urgent report from Chongzhou!”

The guard at the gate changed expression, took the dispatch, and hurried inside. Passing it swiftly to a soldier within, that man then carried the report in haste to the study. “My lord—urgent report from Chongzhou!”

Moments later, the door of the study opened, and an attendant stepped out to take the report.

The entire procedure was tight and efficient; every letter sent to the Prime Minister’s study was delivered in this exact manner.

The attendant closed the door behind him, walking almost soundlessly across the floor as he respectfully presented the document to the long-bearded elder reviewing memorials behind the rosewood desk. “Prime Minister, an eight-hundred-li urgent report from Chongzhou.”

A strong, sinewy hand received the report. After reading it, he slammed it heavily onto the desk. “I should have known that unfilial son couldn’t hold the line in Chongzhou! The autumn harvest ended not long ago—how is it that the entire northwest cannot even supply grain?”

The attendant dared not answer.

The elder rose to his feet. He was not wearing brocade, but a plain cloth robe. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, he gazed out at the deep snowscape beyond the window. His narrow phoenix eyes and upright bearing belonged to none other than Wei Yan, the Grand Prime Minister who had controlled the reins of government for over a decade.

After a pause, he said, “Tell that unfilial son to return at once. Have He Jingyuan take over and stabilize the situation in Chongzhou.”

He once had two blades most suited to his hand—one was the nephew he had personally raised, the other was He Jingyuan. His own son, Wei Xuan, on the other hand, was but an arrogant fool with empty ambition.

The attendant obeyed and was about to withdraw when the powerful man, who had wielded imperial authority for more than ten years, spoke again. “Has the body of Marquis Wu’an been found?”

The attendant shook his head. “It has not.”

Wei Yan sighed deeply. “That child carried the blood of the Wei family. In temperament and method, he was most like me… What a pity.”

Having served Wei Yan for many years, the attendant could somewhat read his master’s mind. He remembered how much Wei Yan had once valued Marquis Wu’an—far more than the eldest son, Wei Xuan—so he ventured softly, “Perhaps the marquis was merely deceived by treacherous men. You raised him for sixteen years; yours was a bond closer than father and son. The rumors that you had Crown Prince Chengde and General Xie killed are baseless. Where is the proof? The marquis hasn’t even seen any evidence himself. Surely, there’s still room to mend this matter—why must you…”

The attendant stopped abruptly mid-sentence. When he lifted his eyes, he met Wei Yan’s cold, sharp gaze. Terrified, he immediately slapped himself hard across the face. “This old servant was too presumptuous!”

But Wei Yan said evenly, “He will come to know the truth one day. He already harbors suspicion. If I don’t strike before he’s on guard, then sooner or later, it will be my Wei family that ends up at his mercy.”

The attendant was momentarily stunned, then hastened to reply, “Prime Minister, you are the pillar of the state. Even the Marquis could not touch you—and besides, the Marquis is no longer alive.”

Wei Yan closed his eyes and said nothing.

When he turned back and sat down again at his desk, all trace of melancholy on his face was gone. “The thing I ordered brought back from Jizhou—has it arrived?”

The attendant’s voice dropped a few tones lower. “The shadow guards of the Xuan division have not yet sent back any word.”

Wei Yan’s brows drew together sharply. “What about He Jingyuan?”

The attendant replied, “The informant planted beside He Jingyuan sent a letter earlier—He Jingyuan seems unaware of the object’s existence.”

Just then, a voice came from outside the study: “My lord, the governor of Jizhou has sent a brocade box by express courier!”