Cai Tian rode at the side to guard, answering respectfully: “The prince had urgent matters to handle and could not free himself, so he ordered this humble servant to escort Your Highness back to the palace in his stead.”

Zhao Yen remembered that daily security in the prince’s residence was overseen by Zhang Cang, while this Cai Tian, rarely seen, must usually be entrusted with tasks of arrest and investigation. Why had Wenren Lin sent him?

Though suspicious, Zhao Yen did not think more of it and gave the order to break camp and set out.

As they descended the mountain path, the green shade receded, dappled sunlight cutting down through the gaps in the leaves, making Zhao Yen drowsy.

Perhaps it was the faint incense in the carriage, perhaps the coolness of the ice chest— even Liuying’s fanning hand slowed. Zhao Yen too found a comfortable posture, resting her elbow against her cheek and closed her eyes.

She had not slept long when suddenly a clamor of disordered hoofbeats and startled cries came.

The carriage halted sharply. Zhao Yen immediately woke, rubbing her eyes and asking: “What happened?”

Could it be another would-be assassin unafraid of death?

Just as she lifted the carriage curtain to inquire, she saw Gu Xing galloping from the rear of the convoy, his expression grim. “Your Highness, Lady Liu’s carriage suddenly startled and bolted—it fell off the cliff.”

The fan in Liuying’s hand froze, her eyes full of shock.

Zhao Yen wondered if she was still dreaming, or had misheard. She sat in a daze for a long while before asking: “Whose carriage?”

“Lady Liu’s.”

Gu Xing’s voice sank lower as he dismounted and pleaded guilty: “We were too late to stop it, and could not save her…”

Zhao Yen suddenly bent and leapt down from the carriage, hurrying through the convoy, past the attendants who were either panicked or silent, rushing toward the place at the rear where the accident had occurred.

Liuying followed with long strides, lowering her voice to instruct Gu Xing: “Commander Gu, strengthen the guard, protect Her Highness.”

This mountain road led straight to Yuquan Palace. For the safety of the royal family, railings had been reinforced along the roadside. Yet now one section of the railing had been smashed open, the ground marked with several chaotic skid traces. Following the wheel ruts forward led only to a bottomless ravine…

Cai Tian and his men surrounded the accident site. From the scattered fragments of wood and carriage curtains, it was indeed the very carriage Zhao Yen had given to Liu Baiwei.

Her chest seized tight. She could well imagine how perilous and despairing that instant must have been when the carriage went plunging down.

“Send men down to search! Be sure to bring her up!”

Zhao Yen’s voice was hoarse as she commanded in a low tone: “Quickly!”

Yet from such a high cliff, with summer torrents rushing below, everyone knew the chances were slim.

For a full four hours, from morning until the sun sank westward, the Eastern Palace guards and eunuchs descended three times, only to retrieve some splintered wood from downstream—and one light green wide-sleeved summer robe, soaked through and stained with mud and sand.

It was the one Liu Baiwei loved to wear most when dressed as a woman.

Finding no corpse, Zhao Yen instead calmed, asking: “When Lady Liu’s accident occurred, who was present nearby?”

Gu Xing replied: “When this subordinate arrived, Vice General Cai was already there.”

Zhao Yen’s brows darkened as she looked toward Cai Tian, whose expression in the near distance remained unchanged.

Calming down to think, she realized that earlier, when Cai Tian had asked her to board Prince Su’s carriage, it had indeed carried a trace of contrived strangeness. As soon as she left, Liu Baiwei behind her met with disaster—could everything truly be such coincidence?

Recalling how the day before yesterday Liu Baiwei had pulled her away from Wenren Lin, behind them that heavy, unfathomable gaze—an audacious suspicion rose in Zhao Yen’s heart.

She said to Gu Xing: “Continue searching along the current. Report back immediately with any news.”

Then she lifted the curtain and said to Cai Tian riding guard beside the horses: “I wish to see your prince. Pray, Vice General Cai, lead the way.”

Spurring the horses to greater speed, by nightfall the carriage halted before the main gates of Prince Su’s residence.

This was Zhao Yen’s first true step into Wenren Lin’s domain. The residence was neat and solemn, but she had no mind to admire its scenery.

Clutching Liu Baiwei’s mud-stained wide-sleeved robe in her hand, her face pale, Zhao Yen walked so swiftly and urgently that even Cai Tian, accustomed to brisk stride, nearly could not keep up and had to hasten to lead her before a grand, three-storied library pavilion.

Cai Tian stepped forward to knock at the door. Soon from within came that familiar low voice: “Enter.”

Before Cai Tian could open it, Zhao Yen herself strode quickly inside.

At once the spacious, shadowed library pavilion unfolded before her eyes.

What met her sight first were three walls of towering bookcases, then a pair of bronze lamps wrought in crane heads, whose flames cast a halo over the long desk set in their midst.

Wenren Lin sat behind the desk, clad in a wide-sleeved dark robe, brows half-lowered, brush in hand moistening the ink.

As though already expecting Zhao Yen’s arrival, he did not even raise his eyes and said: “Your Highness returns three hours late.”

Zhao Yen’s breath was not yet even, but she came straight to the point: “Where is Lady Liu?”

Wenren Lin’s brush did not pause, his manner detached, as though unconnected to the matter. Calmly he said: “Who?”

“Lady Liu. Today he fell from a cliff. I know it was no accident.”

Zhao Yen seemed to have seized upon a faint thread of hope. She stepped forward and said: “If he still lives, please, Grand Preceptor, return him to me. Would that be possible?”

At last Wenren Lin set down his brush and raised his gaze to her.

Those eyes were dark and profound, reflecting gentle warmth in the lamplight.

Looking at the soiled garment tightly gripped in Zhao Yen’s hand, Wenren Lin suddenly smiled, speaking softly: “So Your Highness has come to question this prince—for the sake of an outsider?”

In stark contrast to his gentle tone was the oppressive intimidation in his gaze.

“He is elder brother’s best ally, not an outsider.”

By Zhao Yan’s side, some had died, some had gone—only this one Liu Baiwei remained. Zhao Yen only felt that she could not fail to protect even her brother’s last ally.

She swallowed, pursed her lips, and said: “At my side there are in total only two people I can trust. Even if he has a thousand faults, I am willing to admit fault in his stead. I beg Grand Preceptor to return him to me.”

“People to trust?”

Wenren Lin lightly repeated the words. At once a hidden pain spread in his chest—stifling and cold.

He almost self-torturously savored this strange, dull ache, then looked into Zhao Yen’s eyes, filled with pleading hope, as he rose and walked slowly toward her.

Wiping the cinnabar ink from his hands, he said: “Lady Liu is dead. By Your Highness’s side there will be no Lady Liu again. Is Your Highness satisfied with this answer from me?”

Zhao Yen’s eyes widened, staring at him in disbelief.

“Is Your Highness angry?”

Wenren Lin’s expression did not change. He raised his hand to gently brush the reddened corners of her eyes, and in a warm voice said: “Before Your Highness came, had you not already decided it was I who killed him? I merely admitted to a crime that was long since pinned upon me. Now, what is it Your Highness is angry at?”

His tone was so gentle, yet the words he spoke were unbearably cruel.

Zhao Yen’s gaze flickered, as though she heard from the depths of her heart the faint, brittle sound of something breaking.

She stood there in confusion, her breath quivering as she said: “Why must you do this, Grand Preceptor?”

“Only now does Your Highness soften and act coquettish—it is too late.”

Wenren Lin’s face was pale as frost. Fixing his gaze upon her, he said calmly, “From such a height, the one surnamed Liu fell. Likely even bones are gone. Your Highness has brought his clothing—good.”

He turned and instructed Cai Tian: “Go and bring up the elder brother of the Liu family to claim the relics.”

He had even detained Liu Baiwei’s family!?

Zhao Yen’s mind roared, and when she came back to herself she was already trembling, gripping the short blade hidden in her sleeve.

Cai Tian quickly brought someone up. It was a youth in a snow-colored scholar’s robe with dark lapels. Head bowed, he stumbled forward, his figure somewhat familiar.

The more violence churned in Wenren Lin’s chest, the more his face appeared indifferent and calm. “Take the garment. Make for your younger sister a grave of clothes and crown.”

The youth drew several breaths, then at last lifted a flushed face, throwing aside a lifetime of gentlemanly restraint and shouting aloud: “A grave of clothes and crown—for your sister!”

That flamboyant voice could not be more familiar. Zhao Yen finally confirmed the youth’s identity—

It was Liu Baiwei, restored to male attire.

The taut heart in her chest suddenly fell back into place. Zhao Yen turned sharply, looking at the pale, handsome Wenren Lin.

Then, slowly, her eyes grew red.