After washing up, Shang Rong had just finished sticking the mask onto her face in front of the mirror when she suddenly heard a knock at the door, followed closely by Tian Mingfang’s voice: “Miss.”

Shang Rong immediately got up to open the door. The morning mist was extremely dense, and Tian Mingfang outside the door looked pale, as though too frail to bear the weight of her clothes.

Seeing the cloak on Tian Mingfang and the bundle over her shoulder, Shang Rong said, “Miss Mingfang, are you leaving?”

“I am leaving.”

Tian Mingfang nodded, then looked at her for a moment before suddenly asking, “I heard from Old Mister Cen that your uncle was also wrongly implicated in this case?”

“Yes, we came precisely to save him,” Shang Rong replied.

Tian Mingfang lowered her head slightly, her slender neck fragile as though it might snap easily. “I do not dare to testify in court—Miss, do you not resent me for that?”

“Why would I resent you?”

Hearing her cough, Shang Rong turned back to fetch the hot-water bottle that still held warmth from her bedding and placed it into her cold hands. “Just as Miss Mingfang said, there are indeed many things I still do not understand, but I know you have no choice.”

Tian Mingfang stared blankly at the hot-water bottle in her hands. After a moment, she said, “Last night I dreamed of Xian-lang. He also said he does not resent me.”

“But I…”

Tian Mingfang’s knuckles curled tighter and tighter; her eyes seemed forever red. “But how am I to repay him for risking his life to save mine? Now I do not even dare to die, for fear that in the Nine Springs I will meet him and his mother.”

Zhang Xian had treated her with deep affection and loyalty. Zhang Xian’s mother had always treated her very well too.

But those two people were both dead.

“Miss Mingfang…”

Shang Rong called softly.

“I have thought it over again and again. I should still seek justice from that beast—for myself, and for Xian-lang,” Tian Mingfang said, lifting her head to look at her. “After today, I will not return to Tongshu Village. I will leave Shuqing.”

She returned the hot-water bottle to Shang Rong and, with hands now warmed, held Shang Rong’s wrist. “Miss and I met by chance, yet you wiped my tears, gave me sugar pills, and patiently kept me company, talking with me again and again. In my heart… I am grateful to you.”

Her parents were already gone. In this unfamiliar residence, there had only been this one young girl willing to listen to her cry and speak again and again, and to tell her repeatedly that she had done nothing wrong.

But Tian Mingfang did not intend to ask her name after all.

Before Shang Rong could speak, Tian Mingfang had already released her hand and turned toward the staircase over there.

Shang Rong stood at the doorway watching her thin back. She suddenly turned, put down the things in her hands, hurriedly threw on her cloak, pulled up the hood, and then gathered Zhezhu’s bundle into her arms as she ran out. “Miss Mingfang!”

Tian Mingfang had already descended several steps. Hearing her voice, she turned back, only to see the young girl wrapped tightly in a brocade cloak trimmed with rabbit fur, running toward her with a large bundle in her arms.

“I’ll go with you.”

Shang Rong stopped in front of her.

Tian Mingfang was momentarily dazed and had yet to respond when the young girl’s soft, delicate hand had already reached out to hold hers.

“In the past, I also had things I did not dare to face but had to face.”

Shang Rong looked at her and said seriously, “At that time, as long as an older sister stayed by my side, accompanying me, my heart would feel much more at ease.”

Tian Mingfang’s eyes nearly filled with tears. After a moment, she clasped Shang Rong’s warm hand tightly and choked softly, “Thank you.”

The magistrate’s office had long since begun the trial. Cen Zhao had already departed earlier by carriage. When Shang Rong and Tian Mingfang arrived at the residence gate, the old steward had already prepared the carriage.

The marketplace was noisy, but the entrance of the magistrate’s office was even more clamorous today. From the Cen residence to the magistrate’s office, one only needed to pass through two streets; by carriage, it was a quick journey.

Before Shang Rong even stepped down from the carriage, she lifted the curtain and saw the constables inside the magistrate’s office gate blocking the common people from getting closer. Still, she and Tian Mingfang got down from the carriage together.

Walking up the stone steps, squeezing through the gaps in the crowd, Shang Rong saw several people kneeling inside the hall. From their backs alone, she could not tell who they were, but when one of them slightly turned his face, she recognized his brows, his beard.

It was Mengshi.

Mengshi—whose hands and feet were not severed, whose body was clean, without any bloodstains.

“Hu Linsong, just what did this man say to you that you would disregard our sworn brotherhood and, before Lord Prefect, slander me here?”

A tall man spoke with heated anger, pointing furiously at Mengshi.

Shang Rong noticed that when Tian Mingfang heard this man’s voice, her fingers curled tighter, and deep, bone-piercing hatred filled her eyes.

So that man was Qian Xiyuan.

“Qian Xiyuan, do not falsely accuse Mister Mengshi here! I have already admitted to helping you hide the corpse, yet you do not dare admit that you were jealous that Zhang Xian had won the favor of Old Mister Cen and the headmaster, and that you had set your sights on Zhang Xian’s fiancée, Lady Tian. That day at the poetry gathering, you offended Lady Tian in the bamboo grove, Zhang Xian argued with you, and you harbored murderous intent, forcing him to ingest so much Hanshi Powder! You told me all this yourself afterward!”

Hu Linsong’s words pressed relentlessly.

“That’s right! Qian Xiyuan! I, Tan Jiezhi, truly misjudged you before! I fear that the danger Hu Linsong and I encountered in the bamboo grove that day was also your doing! You must have wanted to silence Hu Linsong and even dragged me into your scheme! If Mister Mengshi had not discovered the two of us in time, our injuries would not have been limited to broken bones and torn sinews!”

Tan Jiezhi’s broken arm was still supported by a cloth sling around his neck, but his words showed not the slightest mercy.

“Very well…”

Qian Xiyuan’s expression was dark and sinister. He first sized up the calm and composed Mengshi, then looked at Hu Linsong and Tan Jiezhi. “You keep saying I offended Lady Tian and killed Zhang Xian, did you witness it with your own eyes? And that Lady Tian, where is she now? Why does she not come to seek justice for herself and for her Xianlang?”

He immediately turned and kowtowed toward the prefect. “My lord! This commoner has been wronged! Lady Tian has not even appeared in court—may Your Excellency not believe only their one-sided words!”

“My lord, Qian Xiyuan once said while drunk that when he force-fed Zhang Xian Hanshi Powder, in the chaos, a jade ornament from his robe cut Zhang Xian’s palm, and fragments became embedded in the wound,” Hu Linsong also bowed and knocked his head to the ground. “This commoner also knows that perhaps the coroner did not examine the body carefully enough and failed to discover the fragments in Zhang Xian’s wound, but Zhang’s mother, who came to identify the body, discovered them. Fearing she would notice something amiss, Qian Xiyuan ordered a servant to threaten and intimidate her, causing her to throw herself into the river! If Your Excellency does not believe this, you may search Qian residence for Qian Xiyuan’s garments and summon that servant for questioning!”

What “the coroner did not examine carefully”—it had merely been a formality, without any detailed inspection.

Previously, Hu Linsong and Qian Xiyuan had been tied to the same rope. How could Hu Linsong not know of the dealings between Qian Xiyuan and the prefect? But now it was different—he no longer had any leverage in Qian Xiyuan’s hands.

Under the gaze of both Cen Zhao and the headmaster of Yeshan Academy, the prefect of Shuqing already had sweat covering his forehead, yet he did not dare wipe it away before so many watching eyes.

“My lord!”

Just as the Prefect of Shuqing was about to speak, he suddenly heard a weak female voice. He raised his head and looked.

“This common woman, Tian Mingfang, accuses Qian Xiyuan of poisoning Zhang Xian to death and forcibly violating an innocent woman!”

Tian Mingfang.

Qian Xiyuan’s expression changed drastically. He turned his head at once, and sure enough, among the crowd blocked outside by the constables, he fixed his gaze on that woman at a glance.

How could this be?

Had not the news from the Cen residence said she was unwilling to testify?

At that instant, many people’s gazes gathered on Tian Mingfang’s face. She was clearly somewhat afraid of those watching eyes; her shoulders shrank slightly, but she felt the young girl beside her gripping her hand even tighter.

She turned her face and looked at Shang Rong.

“Miss, thank you very much for accompanying me here.”

She forced a smile at Shang Rong, then released her hand. The crowd parted to make a path, and she stepped inside.

The crowd quickly pressed together again. Shang Rong was blocked behind them and could only vaguely see Tian Mingfang’s straight back through the gaps between fluttering sleeves.

Suddenly, a hand fell on her shoulder.

Shang Rong stiffened all over. Instinctively, she was about to run down the stone steps, but the person’s hand precisely caught her hood, lifting it. She turned back with a face full of wariness—only to meet a pair of pitch-black eyes.

In the morning mist that had yet to disperse, the youth wore no mask, nor was he dressed as that blue-robed scholar anymore. He wore a black robe, wrist guards tightening his narrow sleeves; at his slender waist, gold and jade ornaments on his diexie belt clinked softly and clearly.

“Zhezhu.”

The tension in her shoulders and neck eased somewhat as she called his name.

“Didn’t I tell you to wait for me at the Cen residence?” The youth looked her over as if curious. “Your courage has grown? You even dared come to the magistrate’s office to watch the excitement?”

“Miss Mingfang changed her mind. Seeing her alone, I wanted to accompany her.”

Shang Rong spoke truthfully.

The youth looked at her hugging a bundle and tilting her head up to look at him.

So obedient.

Yet his expression remained as indifferent as ever. He pulled her hood down a little more before releasing it and said, “Let’s go eat something good.”

“But Daozhang Mengshi…” Shang Rong turned her head back. The crowd had already packed so tightly that not even a gap remained.

“Didn’t you see that his limbs are intact and his body is well?”

The youth glanced at her.

“It seems so.”

Shang Rong nodded.

“Don’t worry. He will definitely come out today,” Zhezhu said, reaching toward her, but suddenly pausing. He glanced lightly at his own palm, then took the bundle from her arms and said, “Come with me.”

Across from the magistrate’s office were many food stalls, steam constantly rising from bamboo steamers. Zhezhu bit into a bun and pushed a bowl of wontons toward Shang Rong.

“Not good?”

Seeing that she had eaten one wonton and then set down her spoon, seeming hesitant, lifting her head to stare at him, Zhezhu asked in confusion.

Shang Rong shook her head, but suddenly stood up.

Zhezhu held half a bun in his hand, watching as she walked toward him and then sat beside him on the same bench. Her gaze moved back and forth over him.

“What are you looking at?”

Zhezhu felt somewhat uncomfortable.

“Just now, I smelled blood.”

As Shang Rong spoke, she reached to touch the front of his robe. “Zhezhu, is your wound bleeding again? Why haven’t you applied medicine?”

“Shang Rong.”

Zhezhu instinctively wanted to take her hand, but he had not forgotten the grass juice on his sword hilt. He could only hastily block her movement with his wrist. In this corner at the innermost side of the oilcloth canopy, no one noticed their actions, but when he met her clear, wave-like eyes, perhaps because of the rising steam, the tips of his ears felt somewhat hot.

His thick, long eyelashes trembled slightly, the clear light in his eyes rippling faintly with a hint of teasing.

“You truly intend to do this here?”

His voice was low, languid, and calm.

Shang Rong turned to look. On the street, people came and went; the stall owner was busy dropping wontons into the pot; at one or two tables not far away, people were discussing the case in the magistrate’s office today. In truth, no one was paying them any attention at all.

But her cheeks still grew faintly warm. She withdrew her hand and said softly:

“Sorry, Zhezhu.”