Mengshi had drunk wine last night; when he got up early this morning, he felt his head heavy and muddled. He gulped down a bowl of cold tea to clear his mind, changed the medicine on his wound, then went to knock on Zhezhu’s door.

He knocked for a long time again with no response, so he pushed the door open. Inside, there was no one.

He had no choice but to turn back and go to the end of the corridor to knock on Shang Rong’s door. Sure enough, before long, the white-robed youth, eyes still drowsy from sleep, came to open it.

“Young Master Zhezhu, come over to change your medicine.”

Mengshi smiled helplessly. These two children changed by the moment, even switching back and forth between the two rooms to stay.

After Zhezhu changed his medicine in Mengshi’s room, the two of them went downstairs together to have breakfast in the hall. Probably because he had not slept well last night, Zhezhu looked listless. He bit into a steamed bun, then slowly sipped his porridge.

“Susu got drunk last night, so let her sleep a bit more,” Mengshi, however, always had an excellent appetite. As he spoke, he devoured the food like a sweeping wind. In the end, only one bun remained, and he felt too embarrassed to take it. Rising, he said to the youth, “Your injury still needs some decocted medicine to drink. I’ll go prepare some now.”

Zhezhu did not even raise his head, giving a faint reply.

Outside the inn, mist hung thick; the morning light was still dim and gray. Zhezhu propped his chin with one hand, bored out of his mind. After a while, he set down his spoon.

Just then, the waiter brought up the prepared dishes. Zhezhu tossed him some silver, then carried the food upstairs.

When Shang Rong woke from her sleep, the moment she opened her eyes she saw the White Tan lamp at the head of the bed, its candle burned down to wax traces. She lay on the edge of the bed; the waxed floor shone as if newly polished, and the bedding that had been spread on the floor last night was already gone.

Suddenly, the sound of the door opening.

Shang Rong saw a frost-white hem sweep past the threshold. The youth turned to close the door, then looked back and met her gaze. His expression was calm. He set the food on the table and said, “Get up and wash.”

Shang Rong answered, rose, and changed into another set of clothes behind the screen. When she came out, she saw that the youth had already lain down on the bed and closed his eyes. She was first startled, then moved quietly to wash up.

She also ate quietly at the table, not letting the spoon touch the bowl’s side and make the slightest sound. She had been drunk last night, and even now her head still felt a little dizzy. After only a few sips of porridge, she lifted her head to look at the youth sleeping on the bed. The gradually brightening morning light outlined his smooth, beautiful jawline.

For a moment, she recalled the rippling lamplight from last night when he had been so close to her, the dripping sounds of water that had soaked her sleeves, pattering as if again by her ears.

She remembered half her face resting against the youth’s damp, cool palm.

“Young Master Zhezhu, Susu? When I went to the pharmacy to buy medicine, I also bought some freshly fried candied pastries. Do you want some?”

Mengshi’s voice suddenly came from outside the door.

The youth on the couch opened his eyes in an instant.

When Mengshi pushed the door open and entered, Zhezhu had already gotten off the bed and happened to walk to the table to pour himself a bowl of tea. He had just taken a sip when his thin eyelids lifted slightly. Catching sight of the steaming bundle of candied pastries Mengshi handed over, he picked one up and ate it.

“Susu, you should try some too.”

Mengshi said with a smile to Shang Rong.

Shang Rong answered and took one, putting it into her mouth. Sure enough, it was crisp and crunchy, with sugar crystals coating the outside, sweet and delicate.

“If you eat too much of this, it gets cloying. Just snack on it for fun. I’ll go ask the shopkeeper to borrow the backyard to decoct the medicine,” Mengshi said, smiling as he watched the two of them sit together eating from a bag of candied pastries. Then he picked up the medicine bundle at the side and prepared to leave.

Zhezhu lifted his eyes casually, his gaze falling on the medicine bundle Mengshi had just picked up. His originally weary brows and eyes sharpened in an instant. “Wait.”

“What is it?” Mengshi noticed him looking at the medicine bundle in his hand and lowered his own gaze to look as well.

“Where is this pharmacy?”

Zhezhu stared at the cinnabar seal on the oiled paper wrapping. He clearly remembered that the faint imprint on the letter Jiang Ying had taken from Liu Xuanyi looked extremely similar to this.

Mengshi went to decoct the medicine.

Shang Rong sat at the table watching the youth change back into that light, convenient black narrow-sleeved robe. The leather bracers covered the ferocious scars on his wrists. He wound the silver snake soft sword around his tightly drawn waist, then turned to meet her gaze.

“Why that expression?”

He stepped closer and bent down to examine her.

“What expression?”

Shang Rong could almost feel his faint breath brushing her face. She turned her head aside a little unnaturally.

“An expression like you want to come play with me too.”

His tone was slow and unhurried, yet with a turn of his wrist he poured her a cup of hot tea, “But Shang Rong, this time I’m not going to play, I’m going to kill someone.”

When he spoke the words “kill someone,” they were light and calm.

“Is there your enemy in that pharmacy?”

Holding the tea bowl, Shang Rong hesitated before speaking.

“Yes.”

Zhezhu noticed that the bamboo-green tassel on his sword hilt had been tugged by him until only a few threads remained. He raised his eyes to look at her loose hair—because he had used it to braid her hair, the tassel was now left with only these scattered strands.

He simply took it off, pulled out the remaining threads, and with long slender fingers wove them together as if braiding her hair, then said to her, “Come here.”

Shang Rong was already used to him braiding her hair. There was not even a bronze mirror in this inn room; she could not see the youth’s face behind her, only feel his fingers constantly moving through her hair.

He was already very skilled. After neatly braiding her hair, he tied the woven thread cord at the end of her braid. Then, tilting his head, he examined her pale cheeks and said, “You aren’t going out today, so why not use rouge?”

He still remembered the bright red color he had applied to her face before. After she washed some of it away, she had looked very beautiful. He found it amusing and still wanted to see her use it again.

But the powder and rouge he had bought for her, she had not used them even once.

“If I’m not going out, what would I use it for?” Shang Rong shook her head.

“Then wouldn’t it never be used even once?”

A trace of disappointment showed in the youth’s pure, clear eyes.

If she did not go out, she did not want to use it. If she did go out, the mask covering her face meant she could not use it.

“If you like it, you can use it yourself.”

He was so close that Shang Rong felt a little embarrassed and annoyed. Avoiding his gaze, she spoke without thinking.

Sure enough, the youth let out a scoffing laugh.

When she turned her head again, in the clear morning light, the youth’s face was pale and refined, a slanted gleam of silver tucked into his thick dark hair, clear and shimmering.

It was the gift she had given him.

The window facing the street was half open. The lingering mist drifted along the window lattice. For some reason, Shang Rong’s emotions were like that vast white fog—damp, softly floating.

The youth bent his knuckles and lightly knocked her forehead, then rose and walked to the door. His steps suddenly paused. Turning back, he saw her sitting there alone, covering her forehead, looking at him.

His long lashes flickered.

“Right now, the Hu Linsong family are searching everywhere like mad dogs for Mengshi. With his skills, protecting himself is manageable, but if he brings you along, I’m afraid it won’t be enough.”

A shimmer of scattered light rippled within his pitch-black eyes. “It seems I’d better keep you by my side after all.”

The morning wind after the Beginning of Spring was still sharp and damp with cold. The black-clad youth led a girl whose face was mostly hidden beneath her hood through the desolate streets, stopping before a pharmacy.

Only when Shang Rong raised her head did she see the characters “Xingnan Pharmacy” on the signboard. The next moment, the youth led her up the steps and across the threshold.

“What medicine does the young master wish to purchase? Do you have a prescription?” The shopkeeper stood behind the counter working his abacus. At a glance, seeing a pair of young boy and girl enter, he hurriedly asked with a smiling face.

“No prescription,” Zhezhu took a gold ingot from his sleeve and gently placed it before the shopkeeper, “but I have this.”

“What does the young master mean by this?” The shopkeeper’s eyes went straight at the gold.

“Shuqing produces medicinal materials, and Rongzhou is currently lacking them. My father ordered me to leave home and come here to purchase medicine, but I heard that most of the medicinal materials from the nearby village herb farmers have been sent to your Xingnan Pharmacy,” Zhezhu said, letting out a faint sigh, “I originally did not want to make this trip, but my father said only if I complete this first medicinal transaction will he agree to my marriage with her.”

Although Shang Rong knew he was deceiving the shopkeeper, hearing his last sentence still made her lift her head to look at him.

“I really don’t have the patience to haggle with those herb farmers, so I plan to purchase some medicinal materials here to take back and report completion,” Zhezhu’s face looked pure and harmless as he spoke politely to the shopkeeper, “If you agree, the price is negotiable.”

The shopkeeper rubbed the gold ingot, then looked at the youth’s attire, which did not resemble that of any noble young master. Moreover, a soft sword was wrapped around his waist, which made the shopkeeper even more doubtful.

On the other hand, the girl’s clothing was refined and delicate, like that of a boudoir young lady. But the shopkeeper glanced at the girl’s face, then looked at the youth’s pale and handsome features.

…Not very well matched.

“Your family does not deal in medicinal materials, does it?” the shopkeeper asked again.

Zhezhu let out a soft “ah,” then said, “We originally run an escort agency.”

“Only, I have no talent for martial arts, so my father wants me to manage the medicinal materials business instead.”

A trace of regret appeared between his refined brows and eyes.

“So that’s how it is.” The shopkeeper saw that he truly seemed like an inexperienced youth who did not even understand how deep the waters were in purchasing medicinal materials, yet had come to a pharmacy to do business.

He put away the gold ingot, suspicion still lingering in his heart. Though as the shopkeeper he could decide pharmacy matters, he still did not dare agree lightly. Yet he truly did not want to let such a big catch slip away. After pondering for a moment, he said, “Why don’t the two of you follow me to the back courtyard and sit for a while? I will go invite our proprietor.”

He did not know that this very hesitation fell precisely into the youth’s trap.

Shang Rong followed Zhezhu as the shopkeeper led them to sit in the main room of the back courtyard. The medicine apprentices cutting herbs in the courtyard quickly brought over two cups of tea. Steam rose, and she felt her nose fill with the bitter scent of medicinal herbs.

She was hesitating whether to drink it when the youth beside her suddenly handed her an oil-paper packet.

It was the candied pastries Mengshi had bought.

Shang Rong had just taken it when the shopkeeper entered behind a middle-aged man.

“To what extent is Rongzhou lacking medicinal materials that even escort agencies are switching to the medicine trade?” The middle-aged man stroked his handlebar mustache as he examined the youth reclining in the chair the moment he entered.

“Who knows?”

Zhezhu’s lips curved faintly, his eyes fixed on him.

The middle-aged man’s expression stiffened. He felt that the youth’s figure seemed somewhat familiar. Seeing the youth rise, he instinctively turned to flee, but the youth moved like a phantom. Only the cold sound of a blade scraping against a metal clasp was heard, and in an instant the door was shut.

The blade at the man’s waist left its sheath. But the moment it met the youth’s thin blade, the fierce internal force shook him so violently that he staggered backward. Shock filled his heart. He immediately ordered the pale-faced shopkeeper:

“Quick! Seize her!”

The shopkeeper reacted extremely fast. The dagger hidden in his sleeve flashed out, and he immediately rushed toward Shang Rong. But he had only taken a few steps when the youth turned his blade and stabbed the back of his knee.

The shopkeeper cried out in pain and collapsed to the ground.

At the same time, the youth’s elbow struck the man’s neck heavily. The blade he drew back plunged into the man’s shoulder and back, forcing him to fall face-down. One foot pressed onto the back of the man’s neck.

“You are… the one who killed our sect master that night!”

Amid the extreme pain, the man finally remembered the youth’s figure standing on the eaves that night. Back then he had not entered the courtyard—he had only heard the sounds of fierce fighting within, and fear had seized him, so he fled.

“A remnant of Tianfu Sect?”

Zhezhu raised his brows in slight surprise. He had originally thought that the imprint on that letter was left by the one named Xin Zhang who had signed it. He had not expected, it was still Tianfu Sect.

He reached into his sleeve and took out a small crumpled paper ball. The blade was still embedded in the man’s shoulder blade on the ground, and he could not free a hand, so he turned to Shang Rong. “Come help me.”

This was not the first time Shang Rong had seen him kill. She steadied herself with difficulty and moved to his side, though she did not know what he wanted her to do.

“Open it.”

Zhezhu handed her the paper ball, lifting his chin slightly in indication.

…?

Shang Rong could only do as told, unfolding the letter he had crumpled into a ball. She did not look closely before handing it back to him.

“The person mentioned in this letter, do you recognize him?”

Zhezhu bent down, bringing the wrinkled letter close to the man.

“I don’t…” the man trembled as he answered.

“Is that so?”

Zhezhu sneered. “Then tell me—what use is there in sparing your life?”

“Mercy, young master! I—I may not know, but all letters concerning these dealings must pass through the hall master of our Zaoxiang Hall. The sect master is gone now, but I know the hall master is still in Shuqing City!”

The man felt the blade grind several inches deeper into the flesh of his shoulder and back. The pain was unbearable, and he cried out in haste.

“Zaoxiang Hall Hall.”

Zhezhu rolled the three words between his fingers. His pitch-black eyes were cold and heavy. “Very well. Tell me—where is he?”

“Tianfu Sect’s properties are now all in his hands. He… he should be at Yuying Tower in Huailiu Lane in the eastern part of the city!” The man’s cheek pressed against the icy ground, his mouth full of blood as he spoke with difficulty.

“I will go find him.”

Not a trace of a smile remained in the youth’s eyes. His voice was light yet chilling. “You two know the methods of Zhifeng Tower. If you dare send word in advance, what you pay with will certainly be the lives of your entire families.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Mengshi reheated the decocted medicine two or three times in the inn. Outside, daylight stretched long, the mist already dispersed. He reheated the medicine once more, and only then did he finally wait until Zhezhu and Shang Rong returned.

“What? You’re going to Yuying Tower?” The moment Mengshi heard what Shang Rong said, he spat out a mouthful of tea. He hurriedly waved his hand at her. “Susu, you absolutely cannot go!”

“Young master, you cannot go either!” He looked again at the youth slowly drinking his medicine.

“Uncle Mengshi knows what kind of place that is?” Shang Rong asked him.

“Of course I know. When I was in prison chatting idly with Hu Linsong and Tan Jiezhi, that was a place the two of them frequented,” Mengshi said. Meeting two pairs of pure and puzzled eyes, he paused, pressed his forehead, and sighed. “If the young master truly wants to go there to find someone, I cannot stop you. But Susu absolutely cannot go. That is a place of courtesans, a place of pleasure—it is somewhere a young lady from the inner chambers must never go!”

He had only learned last night that this youth knew nothing of matters of romance. Naturally, he would not know what kind of place it was. If he went in and saw things he should not see and harmed his eyes… Mengshi shuddered and immediately sat upright. “If the young master trusts me, then let me go. I have my own way to lure the person out for you.”

“Daoist Mengshi acting like this…”

Zhezhu tossed a sugar pellet into his mouth and said strangely, “I’m actually rather curious.”