The knot on the bundle finally came undone, revealing a pile of soaking wet fabric, reeking of blood.
Su Yan recoiled slightly from the stench, took the fire striker from Yun Xi’s hands, and said, “This thing smells awful. Step back a little, Brother Weichen. I’ll handle the inspection myself.”
He held his breath and moved the fire starter closer, using the flower shovel to prod the fabric. It revealed a robe and a yisan. The robe was so stained that its original color was unrecognizable, but the yisan, though soaked through, still displayed its patterns clearly. The upper section featured a persimmon calyx motif with over-the-shoulder dragon embroidery, while the lower hem bore a design of intersecting auspicious cloud patterns—identical to what he had worn on the day of the archery contest.
Su Yan picked up a small, blackened, decaying blade of grass from between the garments, sniffed it, and appeared deep in thought.
Yun Xi, holding back his disgust at the stench, asked, “Is it a bloodstained garment?”
Su Yan nodded. “It is.”
“Then Cui Zhuangyuan…”
“The suspicion is significant. Even if he isn’t the murderer, burying evidence on his behalf makes him an accomplice.”
“What does Qinghe intend to do about this?”
Su Yan flicked away the blade of grass, dusted off his hands, and stood up. “I’ll summon Cui Pingshan for a confrontation on the spot. Let’s clarify the truth before reporting it, to avoid tarnishing his reputation unjustly. I’d like to ask Brother Weichen to stay here and guard the scene and evidence.”
Yun Xi frowned. “You’re going to confront him alone? What if he, seeing his crime exposed, turns violent and attacks you on the spot? How will you protect yourself? It’s better to report this directly and let the Ministry of Justice handle it.”
“I always felt that he isn’t inherently a cruel person…” Su Yan sighed. “Besides, after having interacted with him, if I make a final judgment before the truth is clear and leave him no way out, what if there’s some hidden aspect to the case? What if he’s been coerced by the real culprit? Wouldn’t I be costing him his life?”
Yun Xi remained silent for a moment and then said, “Qinghe, you are empathetic and open-minded. I can’t compare to you.”
Su Yan smiled. “You flatter me, Brother Weichen. This is just human nature.”
He made the flame of the firestick brighter, preparing to return the way they had come, when Yun Xi suddenly called out:
“Su Qinghe…”
Su Yan turned at the sound and saw Yun Xi standing tall against the palace wall, his pale clothes glowing faintly. The light cast an indistinct shadow on his face, making him seem like a majestic yet desolate figure standing atop a frosty peak at dusk.
For a moment, it seemed as if he had countless words to say, but in the end, they condensed into a single sentence:
“Would you like to see the rumored Dragon’s Lair?”
Su Yan, puzzled, moved closer and stood beside him at the foot of the crimson palace wall. Yun Xi pointed to a breach not far away. “That gap right there.”
It was called a breach, but it was still about two zhang (around 6.5 meters) high and more than ten paces wide. Compared to the three- or four-zhang-high palace wall, it resembled a gentle slope leading to a valley.
This section of the southern wall serves as both the palace wall for the small southern courtyard and the inner city wall. Beyond it lies the Linhe Road and the city moat.
“Why haven’t they repaired it after all these decades?” Su Yan asked. “It just sits there as an eyesore.”
Yun Xi replied, “It was by decree of the ancestors, and later generations dared not defy it. Besides, it’s easier to repair a breach in a wall than it is to mend a gap in the human heart.”
Su Yan looked at him and asked softly, “Is something troubling you, Brother Weichen? You can tell me. Though my abilities are limited, I will do my best to help.”
Yun Xi stepped closer.
They were now so near that Su Yan could feel Yun Xi’s breath. Feeling uncomfortable, he took a step back, his back pressing against the cold, hard palace wall.
Yun Xi placed one hand on the faded red surface of the wall, trapping Su Yan within the space of his arms. A faint scent of plum blossoms enveloped him, making Su Yan breathe heavily. His voice became dry: “Could you… step back a bit when we talk?”
“I can’t.” Yun Xi flatly refused. His right hand grazed the wall beside Su Yan’s face, his fingertips just barely brushing his hair and skin.
Su Yan inhaled sharply, hearing the hollow sound of wind passing through a gap in the wall — faint and intermittent, like the low wail of the sea in a conch shell.
The “wind hole” embedded in the palace wall was a small square window about the size of a palm. Carved with intricate patterns and hollowed out, it allowed airflow to the wooden support beams inside the wall, preventing mold. The saying “there is no wall that doesn’t let in air” originated from this very design.
If there is no proper flow between the inside and outside, stagnation over time will lead to mold. Perhaps walls and human hearts are more alike than they seem.
“Brother Weichen… what are you…” Su Yan’s voice trembled slightly as he instinctively reached for Yun Xi’s arm.
Yun Xi pulled his arm away, then clasped Su Yan’s right hand with his left, interlocking their fingers tightly. He pressed Su Yan’s hand firmly against the wall, forbidding him to move.
“Close your eyes,” Yun Xi said, his forehead leaning against Su Yan’s, his voice low and hoarse, almost broken. “Don’t look…”
Su Yan obediently closed his eyes, his breath quickening. His Adam’s apple moved up and down nervously as though bracing for an unknown yet inevitable outcome.
Yun Xi used his right hand to pry open the loosened vent, pulling out an object nailed to the wooden beam inside.
His movements were soundless, swift yet deliberate, and his eyes carried a faint, cold gleam—like shards of ice under moonlight. In the final moment, he showed no hesitation, resolutely driving the object in his hand toward Su Yan’s body.
Su Yan’s eyes flew open, his free left hand clamping down on Yun Xi’s wrist.
In Yun Xi’s hand was a thin, sharp dagger, its design reminiscent of the “fish intestine sword” used by Yu Wang. Before the blade could pierce Su Yan’s abdomen, it was blocked by the golden-threaded soft armor he wore beneath his clothes, unable to penetrate further.
Su Yan gripped Yun Xi’s wrist tightly with his left hand, bending it backward with force to make him drop the blade, while his right hand struggled to break free from Yun Xi’s hold. The two men wrestled in a desperate battle, like cornered animals locked in a life-or-death struggle.
“You’re the one who killed Ye Donglou. Why?” Su Yan demanded through gritted teeth.
Yun Xi didn’t respond.
The fire starter had fallen to the ground, leaving the surrounding forest in shadow. The moon peeked through the clouds, scattering silvery light across the scene.
In the moonlight, Yun Xi’s deep, unreadable eyes bore into Su Yan, cold and detached, as though he deemed the truth unworthy of explanation.
Instead, he countered with a question. “You’re wearing inner armor, prepared in advance, and yet you don’t seem surprised. When did you notice something was off?”
“There were many clues,” Su Yan replied. “But what truly made me suspicious was the muddy shoes under Cui Pingshan’s bed. If I’m not mistaken, those boots actually belong to you. You and Cui are of similar height, and your shoe sizes are close, but there’s a subtle difference. A size 43 and a size 44 might not seem significant to you, but I notice these things. After all, wearing shoes that are one size too small would hurt my feet while playing ball.”
His last remark sounded oddly out of place, but Yun Xi understood enough. A trace of regret flashed through his eyes.
“And then, yesterday afternoon,” Su Yan continued, “while everyone else was anxiously waiting inside for questioning, I saw you by the pond, watching the fish.”
“Watching fish gave me away?”
“Not you—the fish. After you left, I went to take a look out of curiosity. Besides the free-swimming koi, there were blackfish and catfish gathering unnaturally in one spot, circling restlessly even though no one had thrown any bait. I found it strange at the time but didn’t think too much of it.”
“Then just now, I noticed a piece of rotting aquatic grass among the fabric in the bundle. It all clicked. The bloodstained clothes weren’t buried in the ground at first—they were thrown into the pond, which attracted the carnivorous fish to the scent of blood. I suspect you realized this flaw while watching the fish and feared discovery, so you retrieved the bundle under cover of night and buried it in the woods instead. That’s why the soil around the bundle was so damp—it had been soaked in water.”
Yun Xi fell silent, then sighed. “A single falling leaf foretells the coming of autumn. When it comes to discerning the whole from the smallest detail, I must admit I’m no match for you.”
The two remained locked in a fierce standoff for a long moment. Su Yan finally took a deep breath and, summoning all his strength, shoved Yun Xi backward, breaking free. He bolted from the wall, disappearing into the pitch-black forest.
Without the light of a firestarter to illuminate the way, he could only rely on the faint and flickering moonlight and his vague memory of the path he had taken to get as close as possible to the main hall. Once there, he could shout for help and draw others to his aid.
Yun Xi guessed his intentions and reacted swiftly, lunging forward. The tip of his sword sliced a gash along the back of his arm.
The golden silk armor Su Yan wore could only protect vital areas like his chest and abdomen, leaving his limbs vulnerable. The searing pain from the cut flared up, but he had no time to check the wound as he bolted forward with all his might.
The moss beneath his feet was slick and treacherous, and when the moonlight vanished, he couldn’t see the path clearly. He tripped over a tree root and fell hard to the ground.
Yun Xi caught up from behind, raising his sword to stab his head, but Su Yan yanked his sleeve with force, and the two of them tumbled together in a tangled struggle.
“…Now you’re filthy all over,” Su Yan said as he wrestled for his weapon. Even at a life-and-death moment, he found room to jest, mimicking his earlier words with a mocking tone. “Clothes can be washed clean, but how does one cleanse a sullied heart?”
Yun Xi gritted his teeth. “The human heart is a mire to begin with. Everyone is filthy, irredeemably so, no matter how much washing you do!”
Another slash grazed Su Yan’s thigh, but fortunately, it missed any arteries. The bleeding was minimal. With a combination of ripping and biting, he managed to wrest the short sword from him and pressed it firmly against his neck, pinning him down.
Grabbing him by the collar, he shoved him against a flat boulder and panted, “I should have realized sooner. At the banquet of honor, the two arguing in the rock garden weren’t Yu Wang and Ye Donglou but you and Ye Donglou.”
***
In the depths of the rock garden, faint whispers seemed to drift out, though they were too distant to hear clearly.
Eavesdropping was not something Su Yan cared to indulge in, so he turned to leave. But then, a voice suddenly rose in sharp frustration:
“…How can you be so obtuse, no matter how it’s put to you?”
Another voice, softer and indistinct, murmured: “…What would you have me do—prove my resolve with death?”
“Don’t even bring it up! I can’t stand people using death to make a point…”
***
“Ye Donglou’s talk of proving himself with death—what exactly was he trying to prove? Did you make a private vow with him, only to discover his ambiguous relationship with Yu Wang? Enraged, you confronted him, and he vehemently denied it, even swearing on his life. You believed him, but not long after, you realized that trust was nothing but a cruel joke.”
Su Yan pressed on, “After earning his place on the honor roll, Ye Donglou was suddenly promoted to the Ministry of Revenue overnight, confirming the affair. So, driven by love turned to hate, you schemed to kill him. Isn’t that what happened?”
“I can understand your hatred for Yu Wang’s wanton ways and your use of his sword to frame him. But why drag me into this? I had no connection with Ye Donglou. After the palace exam rankings were announced, I never even saw him again. What does this have to do with me?”
Yun Xi sneered. “Unrelated? Hardly. It’s been only half a year, and already the favored one has become yesterday’s news. I heard the ‘master’ found a new pet, leaving the old one despondent, tearfully coming back to me for solace, throwing all scholarly dignity to the wind.”
Su Yan was stunned. “New pet… You mean me? That… Yu Wang is incorrigible. There are plenty of young officials in court he bothers with; I’m not the only one.”
“But Ye Donglou thought you were special, so special that it filled him with an overwhelming sense of crisis. I, suppressing my disgust, advised him that since he chose to rely on Yu Wang, he should have anticipated this outcome. If he could endure it once, he’d have to endure it countless times until he was cast aside like an old shoe.”
“And how did he respond to your advice?” Su Yan asked.
Yun Xi let out a cold laugh. “He said that as long as he could hold onto Yu Wang’s heart, he’d gladly die for it.”
“So you killed him? To make him understand that even in death, his obsession would remain a futile dream?”
“He was rotten to the core! I studied alongside him for four years, held feelings for him within the bounds of propriety, never crossing the line. And how did he repay me? He spoke of proving himself with death while consorting with Yu Wang. When his patron grew bored and discarded him, he came crawling back to rekindle old ties…. Tell me, how can people be so contemptible?”
Su Yan sighed. “But you could’ve ignored him and kept your integrity intact. Just like if I had dirt on my face and you chose to point it out, fine. If you didn’t want to say anything, you could’ve walked away. Why dirty your own sleeves by wiping it off yourself?
“Ye Donglou betrayed you. His fate is his own doing. You could despise him, rebuke him, or cut ties altogether. But you shouldn’t have harbored the thought of murder, dragging yourself into the mire alongside him.”
Yun Xi remained silent, his breathing quick and uneven.
Su Yan continued, “If all you felt was hatred, you could’ve killed him quietly in some dark room. But you weren’t satisfied with his death going unnoticed. You wanted his death to cleanse him of his filth, to shock the world, to avenge yourself on Yu Wang, and to punish me, the ‘new favorite’ who caused his fall from grace.
“Frightening the Imperial Concubine was an accident, not part of your plan. But if you succeeded in framing me, if I were to die unjustly, would your killing spree end there?
“It wouldn’t. Out of your complex feelings for Ye Donglou, you’d continue eliminating his ‘rivals.’ For every new attachment Yu Wang made, you’d kill again, finding ways to pin the blame on him. You’d haunt Yu Wang relentlessly because within you lies the obsession of Ye Donglou—a reflection of your tribute and atonement for him.”
“—Ye Donglou’s last words before falling… Were they about Yu Wang?”
“….I have no regrets, only resentment he said,” Yun Xi murmured. “He wished for Yu Wang to never fall for anyone else, to remember him forever. This was his final wish, both in life and death. Since I decided to send him off myself, I must see it fulfilled.”
Su Yan sighed deeply, unsure whether it was for Ye Donglou or Yun Xi.
“Weichen, Weichen… a heart untainted by dust, pure and clear as a fresh wash. In the end, you still failed to live up to your parents’ expectations.”
Yun Xi murmured, “You are no bronze mirror; why bother reflecting an empty face? Do not mistake dust on the garment for a sullied heart… But I am quite the opposite. No matter how pristine and pure the outer robe may appear, it cannot hide a heart cloaked in dust.”
He sighed, closed his eyes, and said, “I don’t want to be discarded and executed in the marketplace, mocked by the rabble. Just grant me a quick end.”
