Ruan Hongjiao sat at the round table in her boudoir, peanut shells scattered all around her. She stared blankly at the red-lacquered snack box on the table, absentmindedly sending shelled peanuts into her mouth with slender fingers.
The snack box had been a New Year’s gift from Su Yan. The peanuts, walnuts, and red dates inside were things she had treasured and rationed carefully—eating only a little each day. Now, more than a month later, there was almost nothing left.
As she chewed, her brows furrowed, as if she were trapped in confusion or wrestling with a dangerous and difficult decision.
With a faint crack, she bit her fingertip along with a peanut and tasted blood. As if this pain finalized her resolve, she clenched her fists and rose abruptly, called her maid in, and whispered detailed instructions into her ear.
—
Su Xiaobei had a habit of buying seasonings from the street vendor near the back alley of the Su residence. That evening, after buying soybean paste, he didn’t even set it down before heading straight to Su Yan’s bedroom. In front of Su Yan, he rummaged through the jar and fished out a wax-sealed amber bead the size of a lychee.
“The vendor sure is generous—buy a jar of soybean paste and you get a free Wuji Baifeng Pill?” Su Yan remarked casually as he read a book, waiting for dinner.
Su Xiaobei didn’t joke back. He looked a bit serious. “I ran into Ruan Headmistress’s maid. She was disguised like a servant from a wealthy household, also buying paste from the vendor. Whichever jar I picked, she insisted on trading for.”
“And what did you do?”
“Swapped, of course. Why argue with a little maid?” Su Xiaobei, despite being only fifteen, sounded like a grumpy old man. “I paid and left. But that maid secretly told me, ‘Miss said there’s something inside the jar that concerns someone’s life. Please make sure your master sees it.’ Here, I dug it out. Whether to look or not is up to you.”
Su Yan washed it clean, opened the wax bead, and took out a small rolled note.
The note, written in tiny neat script, read: “Be wary of changes with Wan Xin. Keep an eye on Mr. He at the Marquis’ residence.”
Su Yan was stunned. Given his relationship with Ruan Hongjiao, he didn’t believe she would deceive him—but how did she obtain this information? Was it true, or was it a diversion? Why not tell him face-to-face?
He rolled the note between his fingers for a moment, then threw it into the small tea stove. In an instant, it burned to ashes.
Su Xiaobei asked, “Why burn it? Did Miss Ruan write something unpleasant?”
Su Yan shook his head. “I’m worried about Sister Ruan. She used such a secretive method to get this message to me—probably afraid someone is watching her. That’s why I need to burn it immediately. Judging by her personality and the way she handles things, the information is likely genuine. But this also means her source and how she obtained it must have been very dangerous. No matter how experienced she is, she’s still just a young woman in her early twenties. I really don’t want to see her taking this kind of risk.”
“What should we do then?” Su Xiaobei’s face remained fairly calm, but there was a trace of panic in his heart. He quickly asked, “Does my lord plan to make arrangements based on the intel she provided? I was at the public trial as well and saw Wan Xin. I felt that person’s shifty eyes and smooth-talking ways — he didn’t seem like an honest man. It’s indeed possible he might switch sides at the last moment.”
Su Yan thought for a moment and replied, “Wan Xin has already handed over all the written materials to me. The Northern Surveillance Bureau has dug out plenty of solid evidence of the Wei family’s crimes from them. Even if he changes his testimony and completely denies everything in court, it won’t change the overall situation.”
Su Xiaobei still wasn’t fully reassured. “What if… what if he dies? Wouldn’t the Northern Surveillance Bureau be suspected of forcing a confession to death?”
Su Yan shook his head. “If he were to die, the suspicion of the Wei family silencing him would be far greater than ours. They’ve already submitted a petition distancing themselves from him and even asked for his immediate execution, but the Ministry of Justice has yet to transfer him. If Wan Xin dies, I’ll insist it’s because the Wei family feared their crimes would be exposed and acted in desperation. From the perspective of motive, it makes perfect sense.
“The most important thing is, we haven’t tortured Wan Xin at all — this can be confirmed through his body. He’s given testimony, hasn’t been tortured, and still needs to appear in court. The Northern Surveillance Bureau would be protecting him, not killing him. Once you compare the two sides, the Wei family wouldn’t be able to defend themselves.”
“Then what exactly does this ‘change’ refer to?” Su Xiaobei still couldn’t figure it out. “That Ruan courtesan, why couldn’t she have written a few more words to make it clear?”
Su Yan said, “Perhaps she doesn’t know the details either, only that someone plans to target Wan Xin… Actually, I’m more concerned about this ‘Mr. He’ than about Wan Xin. Who is this person? If he’s just one of Marquis Fengan’s men, then the whole marquis’s residence should be my enemy. Why did Sister Ruan specifically warn me to watch out for him?”
There were two knocks on the door, and Jinghong Zhui’s voice came from outside: “My lord, lunch is ready.”
Su Yan walked over to open the door, smiling as he said, “Perfect timing, let’s discuss something together.”
“Discuss what?” Jinghong Zhui was utterly confused as Su Yan dragged him into the room. After hearing Su Yan explain the situation, Jinghong Zhui replied, “I’ve never heard of this man’s name — he’s probably not someone from the martial world.”
Su Yan said, “Maybe it’s a fake name, just like the alias ‘Wuming’ you used before. Since Sister Ruan specifically told me to watch him, there must be something unusual about him. Ah Zhui, can you check him out?”
Jinghong Zhui nodded. “Unless he never steps outside the marquis’s residence, I can definitely keep track of him.”
“What if he really doesn’t leave the house?” Su Xiaobei asked.
Jinghong Zhui glanced at him. “Then I’d have to sneak into the marquis’s residence at night. It would be more troublesome, but not impossible.”
Su Yan thought for a moment and said, “Let’s have you look into him first. See what you can find out. As for Wan Xin, let’s hold off for now and wait until we have a clearer picture.”
“My lord, just give orders. No need to say ‘please’ — that makes it sound like we’re strangers.” Jinghong Zhui was clearly unhappy and pulled a long face.
Su Xiaobei quickly smoothed things over: “Our lord says that all the time, even to me and Xiaojing — always ‘please this’ and ‘please that.’ Brother Zhui, don’t take it personally.”
Jinghong Zhui shot him a side-eye. “I — am I the same as you two?”
Su Xiaobei now seemed a bit annoyed: a servant and a guard, both take orders from their lord — what’s the essential difference?
Su Yan caught the subtle tension and couldn’t help but laugh, patting Jinghong Zhui’s arm. “I said the same thing to Shen Qi — really, it’s just a speech habit. Alright, I’ll be more casual from now on, how’s that?”
Jinghong Zhui’s expression immediately softened. He took the opportunity to grab Su Yan’s hand and walked out of the room together. Su Xiaobei quickly followed, muttering, “A cold-faced tough guy acting all coy — unbelievable.”
After lunch, Jinghong Zhui was out all afternoon. When he returned at night, he reported to Su Yan:
This Mr. He came to the marquis’s residence last winter from Qingzhou. It’s said that he was a well-known strategist there — even the Tartar Grand Preceptor Tuohuotai tried to recruit him, but he refused to serve the Tartars and came to the capital instead. Since he’s from their hometown and was personally recommended by Wei Yan’s son, Wei Que, the marquis treated him as an honored guest, with higher status than the other household retainers.
“The servants who’ve interacted with him said he’s a polite, refined young layman, appears to be around twenty-six or twenty-seven years old. As for what he’s actually in charge of within the marquis’s residence, no one knows.” Jinghong Zhui washed up, sat down at the table, and added, “He didn’t leave the marquis’s residence all afternoon. I was planning to sneak in tonight and see what he really looks like.”
Su Yan thought for a moment, then shook his head. “You’d better not go for now. Don’t forget the Seven Kill Camp’s leader is still in the capital. Last time, you suffered a major loss at his hands. If you run into him again…” He suddenly paused, a thought flashing through his mind. “Wait, could this Mr. He actually be the leader?”
Jinghong Zhui was momentarily thrown off by the question. After thinking carefully, he couldn’t be sure: “The leader has always been elusive, never showing his real face or voice. Even though I’ve fought him before, I still don’t fully understand his martial arts. But I’ve touched the leader’s face before — whether this Mr. He is the leader, I’d have to touch him to know.”
Su Xiaojing was setting the dishes and burst out laughing when he heard that. He teased, “You’ve touched him? Was his skin smooth? Was his flesh tender? Did it feel good? Could he be a woman?”
Su Yan glared at him. “What nonsense are you spouting? No manners at all.”
Su Xiaojing stuck out his tongue.
Jinghong Zhui, with a deadpan expression, replied, “His skin wasn’t particularly smooth or tender, but it was elastic. His face had no beard, no obvious wrinkles or scars — I’d estimate he was between twenty and forty years old. But the leader had this level of skill even seven years ago, so I estimate his actual age to be in his late thirties.”
Seeing that this guy was as stiff as ever and not easy to tease — plus getting another glare from his lord — Su Xiaojing sensibly went to serve the rice.
Su Xiaobei said, “Ignore that brat, my lord. He’s still clueless about the world. Let’s continue talking about the important matters.”
Su Yan turned to Jinghong Zhui: “So you really plan to sneak into the marquis’s residence tonight to touch him? What if he really is the leader? Can you handle him? Don’t get captured again and brainwashed.”
A flicker of frustration crossed Jinghong Zhui’s face. He seemed to recall something, his cheeks reddened slightly, and he said in a low voice, “I know the martial arts from the Seven Kill Camp pose a hidden danger. Don’t worry, my lord, I will resolve this issue.”
Su Yan, worried he might blame himself, quickly comforted him, “It’s actually not that serious. That Nightmare Enchantment Technique—just seal it and don’t use it. Once we wipe out the Seven Kill Camp in the future, you won’t have to worry about the risk of being driven mad by the mind techniques or any lingering effects of the drugs.”
Jinghong Zhui remained silent.
Su Yan continued, “For now, better not go, lest we alert the enemy.”
“What about Wan Xin?” Su Xiaobei asked.
Su Yan thought for a moment and made his decision. “Leave it. Let’s pretend Sister Ruan never sent a message. Also, find a way to secretly inform her—tell her not to pass on any more information. Her own safety comes first. If she encounters any trouble, she must tell me immediately, and she absolutely must not risk herself.”
Su Xiaobei hesitated. “Is that okay? What if you miss out on crucial intel because of this…”
“Between intelligence and her life, I choose the latter.” Su Yan took a sip of the steaming black-bone chicken soup with shiitake mushrooms. “Besides, if this Mister He is really tied to the Seven Kill Camp and the Void Sect, I doubt it’d be so easy for her to leak any intel. This information she passed on might even have been a test targeted at her. If we stay put, she stays safe.”
Su Xiaobei understood and nodded. “Then we’ll act as if we don’t know. My lord, eat this chicken leg.”
As he spoke, Jinghong Zhui had already picked up the chicken leg and placed it in Su Yan’s bowl. Su Yan reminded Jinghong Zhui, “Don’t sneak into the Marquis’ manor tonight, you hear me?”
Jinghong Zhui let out a noncommittal grunt.
Su Yan wasn’t satisfied. “What’s with that ‘hmph’? The lingering spring chill is quite bitter these days—you’ll sleep in my room. Remember to change the charcoal brazier and the bed warmer for me in the middle of the night.”
“Okay!” Jinghong Zhui agreed quickly and decisively.
“‘Okay’ what? You’ll sleep in the outer room; I’ll sleep in the inner room.”
“…My lord.” Jinghong Zhui seemed to want to say something but stopped, hesitating because the two young servants were present.
Su Yan sighed. “Being a lord is hard. Who would’ve thought that the cinnabar used to mark memorial approvals comes specially prepared by the Imperial Household Department—with gold powder and fragrance mixed in?”
The other three in the hall: “…”
—My lord is talking about things we can’t understand again. How shameful. Seems we really need to read more books.
—But it doesn’t matter. Whatever the lord says must make sense anyway.
–
Ruan Hongjiao barely slept all night. In the morning, she had to put on several extra layers of powder to cover the dark circles under her eyes.
The maid finally brought a reply from Su Yan’s side, only two short lines: “Your safety comes first, I hope you can withdraw soon. Do not send any more messages. If you need protection or to leave the capital, let me know immediately. I will do all I can to keep you safe.”
Ruan Hongjiao stared at the note for a long time, then moved it close to the candle flame to burn it—but she changed her mind at the last second and carefully tucked it into her personal pouch.
She sat at the table and began cracking walnuts with a small hammer. The maid asked in confusion, “Miss, aren’t you going to write a reply?”
“No need.”
“Then… should we continue delivering messages in the future?”
“In the future… I don’t know if I’ll have a future, but he must.” Ruan Hongjiao placed a piece of walnut into her mouth, her eyes glimmering faintly with tears.
–
Marquis Fengan’s Manor.
Late at night, there was a faint flapping sound outside the window. Mister He, wearing a cloak over his long robe, went to open the window.
A small black-feathered sparrow silently darted inside, landing on his hand and affectionately pecking his fingers.
Mister He gently stroked the bird’s tail feathers, untied a small bamboo tube from its claw, and placed a bowl of grains nearby for it to peck at.
He opened the bamboo tube and pulled out a rolled paper note. It read: “Wan Xin has not been interrogated, nor has the imperial prison increased security. Su Yan shows no unusual movement; everything remains as it was.”
Mister He raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise—Ruan Hongjiao didn’t pass the message to Su Yan? Seems she truly is on Noble Consort Wei’s side.
That night at Linhua Pavilion when the courtesans were grooming her hair, Ruan Hongjiao and Su Yan had arrived one after the other. It was reasonable for someone of Ruan Hongjiao’s status to have many social contacts—most of the court officials had interacted with her, so it wasn’t strange that she knew Su Yan.
Still, he’d looked into it carefully and found that the two had known each other since last year. Su Yan had been quite close to her before he passed the metropolitan exams, but after becoming an official, he distanced himself, rarely visiting the courtesan quarters again—probably to avoid gossip that might hinder his career.
It appeared their relationship was just a passing affair. Maybe Ruan Hongjiao even resented Su Yan because of this. There was no way she would pass information to him.
His test had failed, but being cautious never hurts.
Mister He destroyed the note and reattached the bamboo tube to the sparrow’s claw. The sparrow, now full, seemed reluctant to leave. It tilted its head and rolled its black eyes, curiously observing Mister He from all angles.
Mister He smiled faintly. “You’re full, but my little Huan’er isn’t full yet.”
He walked to the wardrobe, opened the door, and pulled out a rattan chest.
The moment he set the chest on the table, the sparrow seemed to smell something terrifying. Its feathers fluffed up instantly as it let out a sharp cry and darted out the half-open window at lightning speed.
“…All living beings cling to life and fear death—animals are the same.” Mister He chuckled as he closed the window.
