Liu Yan, the Prefect of Jingzhao, known as the "Silent Gourd," was a man of few words but unswerving integrity. The autopsy room was a place of grave investigation—trespassing often signaled interference by a suspect. Without hesitation, Liu Yan moved to detain the intruders, prompting Ye Jiao to hastily explain. Of course, she could not admit it was a secret rendezvous. Her justification was sound: she suspected the bones unearthed beneath the Yuqiong Pavilion belonged to her father, and thus she had snuck in to verify.
"If you had doubts," Liu Yan stepped forward, his subordinates hesitating behind him, "why not submit a formal petition outside the court and request a lawful examination?"
The stench in the autopsy room was unbearable, but Liu Yan seemed to relish it—no one else wanted to curry favor that badly. Besides, a few sharp-eyed men had already recognized the one standing beside Ye Jiao: Prince Chu, recently conferred with his title. Best not to provoke him.
Outside the examination room, Ye Jiao finally responded meekly, "Esteemed Prefect, the Duke of Anguo's household has known no peace of late. First, my brother-in-law took a life and perished in prison from fright; then, my sister suffered a miscarriage, and my elder brother rode north to war. Each blow has worn my mother down with worry and sleepless nights. I dared not bring this to open court, for fear it would reach her ears and harm her health."
Liu Yan's lips parted slightly, a trace of emotion glinting in his eyes, his beard quivering. "So that's how it is."
He had personally arrested her brother-in-law and had heard whispers of Ye Rou's miscarriage and divorce. As for Ye Changgen's awe-inspiring arrow shot on Imperial Street, he had witnessed it with his own eyes.
"In that case…" his expression softened slightly. "Your filial piety leaves this official no grounds for reproach."
Ye Jiao promptly said, "Yet I did wrong and humbly accept whatever punishment the Prefect deems fit."
Now that she had confirmed the remains were not her father's, her anxiety had dissipated. She would accept any penalty.
Liu Yan's gaze shifted to Li Ce. According to protocol, an official should bow before a prince. But Liu Yan had no such intention—in fact, his expression soured further as he stiffly said, "The Prince's midnight visit to the Prefecture must naturally be to accompany Miss Ye."
Li Ce replied with a solemn gesture of apology, "Forgive the disturbance, Prefect Liu. I accept responsibility."
Liu Yan's eyes turned icy. "How could a mere official dare accept your guilt, Your Highness? All present are witnesses to tonight's events. Come morning, I shall report this to His Majesty. The matter of your punishment lies in his hands."
He seemed every bit the upright and incorruptible official, but the subordinates behind him discreetly retreated a few steps. Don't drag us into this, my lord. If you wish to clash with the Prince, leave us out of it.
Moonlight slipped behind the clouds. Under curfew, the streets were hushed. Occasionally, patrol guards passed by, and after checking Li Ce's permit, they saluted and let him through.
Ye Jiao sat beside Li Ce in the front of the carriage, watching him expertly handle the reins. "I'm sorry," she murmured, "that you had to bear guilt on my account."
She had no silver on her to offer as compensation. Her face was clouded with remorse.
"It wasn't because of you," Li Ce said. "They were targeting me all along. I was merely trying to avoid it."
Though he claimed to be timid, a quiet tenacity burned beneath his words.
Ye Jiao took it as comfort and said nothing.
"They chose Yuqiong Pavilion for their gathering. With the place half burned and its foundation being dug up, of course the bones surfaced. An old, forgotten case—but they insisted on implicating me. Vile."
"Why involve you?" Ye Jiao asked.
"Because…" Li Ce hesitated for a heartbeat, then confessed, "I know whose remains they are."
And he knew who had done it.
Chang'an's night was tranquil, yet beneath the silence lurked unseen beasts, poised to strike.
Under the flickering moonlight, Li Ce drove on steadily. The horse's hooves pierced the darkness while his pale face, framed by the night, held a pair of clear, luminous eyes.
He seemed to see further than anyone else—and carried the sorrow of such sight.
Ye Jiao's fingers brushed the side of the carriage, grazing the hem of his robe. He wore dark blue, near black—as always.
"Hey," Ye Jiao said softly, "they're trying to use you, aren't they?"
"They are."
Li Ce turned his head and saw guilt rippling in her peach blossom eyes. She was worried—worried for him.
His hand clenched tighter around the whip. A faint hope sparked in his heart. Could it be…? Might she…?
Just as his thoughts tumbled into chaos, Ye Jiao suddenly brightened and declared, "To hell with them! Si-si, fake an illness!"
There was no jest in her voice—only resolve.
She had found a way out for him. And she had called him… "Si-si."
Li Ce froze. The autumn wind slipped through his sleeves and chest, swirling in his heart, stealing his breath and his words.
Yes—his courtesy name was Shensi. She had called him "Si-si"—was that in answer to his once calling her "Jiao-jiao"?
But ever since she said they should part ways, he hadn't dared call her that again.
"Jiao-jiao," Li Ce breathed, as if transported back to boyhood, back to the ancient tomb where he had once gripped a dangling rope in the dark.
Ye Jiao cheerfully analyzed the situation for him, "Say you went to the Prefecture with me and fainted from the fright. His Majesty, concerned for your health, likely won't punish you. If blame is needed, let it fall on me."
It was the best plan she could think of.
"No," Li Ce said, smiling and shaking his head. He glanced at the moon above. "Let me be their pawn this once—and in return, I'll claim something for myself."
He took Ye Jiao back to her estate. As usual, she scaled the wall with agile ease.
Perched on the wall, she waved at him. "Thank you for tonight. I still owe you an apology gift. What would you like?"
Li Ce looked up at her and said warmly, "Don't worry. I won't come out short."
He had already received so much from her—and yearned for even more.
When Li Ce returned to the Zhao Prince's manor, the gatekeeper was still awake. As he entered, he spotted a figure by the shadow wall—hands tucked in sleeves, still clutching his prized stone.
At the sight of Li Ce, the figure gave a cold snort and turned away.
"Fifth Brother," Li Ce greeted cheerfully, "were you waiting for me to return?"
"Get lost!" Li Jing snapped. "Who'd wait for you? I just came out to piss."
He stalked off quickly, as though afraid Li Ce had brought bad luck with him.
And yet, despite his fear, he had waited.
Li Ce stepped over the threshold with a spring in his step, far lighter than usual.
That night, the lights of the Su Prince's residence burned till dawn.
Prince Su, Li Long, was to depart the capital tomorrow for his fief. He had been treading carefully, eager to escape and survive long enough to make a comeback.
The carriages were packed, though most of the goods were merely for show. Huainan was a prosperous land—so long as he had silver notes, he could buy anything.
Most of his retainers had already left. Looking at the now-desolate main hall, Li Long's heart filled with fury.
"Has the letter to Longyou been sent?" he asked.
Longyou was where Li Long had once been stationed. There, he had repelled the Tubo from the south and the Baiyi from the north, gaining merit and cultivating loyal followers.
"It has," said the chief steward. "It should arrive before Prince Jin's."
Prince Jin, Li Zhang, had been ordered to take over Li Long's forces in the north. Beating him to the punch meant alerting their old allies first.
Li Zhang's mission was a death sentence. Li Long was determined to avenge it.
"I'd like to see how he still has the leisure to read idle books," Li Long chuckled coldly, then turned to the steward. "What's wrong? Something troubling you?"
The steward furrowed his brow. "I'm worried… about the matter at Yuqiong Pavilion."
The affair at Yuqiong Pavilion…