Qi Buyan actually didn’t want to wear this silver necklace, neither disliking nor liking it.
For some reason, when He Sui’an asked if he needed her to help him put it on, Qi Buyan inexplicably agreed, “Okay.”
He sat on the glazed tiles of the roof.
Waiting for her to put the silver necklace on him.
He Sui’an leaned over, her breath brushing against Qi Buyan’s face, causing his long eyelashes to flutter slightly.
With one hand, she held the silver necklace, and with the other, she moved Qi Buyan’s long hair to one side, her eyes lowered. She unclasped the necklace, holding each end with her hands, and moved to place it around his neck.
They were very close. Everywhere Qi Buyan looked, he saw He Sui’an. His fingers, resting at his sides, slowly curled, as if trying to grasp the invisible air.
The cool silver necklace touched Qi Buyan’s neck, and she also touched him.
Unlike the cold and hard silver necklace, He Sui’an’s fingers were cool and soft. When they unintentionally brushed against him, Qi Buyan’s skin seemed to react uncontrollably, sending a tingling sensation inch by inch throughout his body.
He Sui’an’s scent filled Qi Buyan’s lungs, silently occupying space within him. He seemed unaware or perhaps unwilling to drive it away, wanting to keep it there.
Suddenly, He Sui’an made a small sound of surprise.
She moved even closer.
The clasp of the silver necklace was difficult to fasten. He Sui’an tried several times but couldn’t get it right. As the distance between them shortened, her face almost touched Qi Buyan’s neck.
Qi Buyan’s collar was slightly open, revealing his well-defined collarbone. The blue butterfly pendant of the silver necklace hung in the middle of his pale collarbone, looking exceptionally beautiful, like a pleasing painting.
He Sui’an finally managed to fasten the clasp and returned to her original position.
Before sitting back down, she swept Qi Buyan’s long hair, which she had moved forward, back behind him. The silver ornaments at the ends of his hair clinked softly.
He Sui’an wanted to watch the Kongming lanterns with Qi Buyan for a while longer before returning to her room.
Writing today had left her hand cramped.
*
The night was deep and silent, and the shadows of the trees swayed.
At the third quarter of the hour, Xie Wenqiao had not yet rested. Zhu Bo, who had served him for over twenty years, brought in a bowl of sweet soup that could calm the mind and moisten the lungs, placing it on the desk. “Young Master, have some sweet soup.”
“Mm,” Xie Wenqiao nodded.
There was only one servant in the Xie residence, and that was Zhu Bo. The reason Xie Wenqiao brought Jiang Songwei and Jiang Xuewan to his residence was because there were not many people in the Xie residence, making it difficult for information to spread.
Zhu Bo would never betray Xie Wenqiao.
Zhu Bo was well aware of how busy Xie Wenqiao was with the Weicheng case. Seeing him grow increasingly thin and haggard from the heavy workload, Zhu Bo felt nothing but heartache.
His young master was born into a poor family. After finally passing the imperial examinations and becoming a high-ranking official, Xie Wenqiao’s innate nature made it difficult for him to adapt to the current bureaucratic atmosphere, always facing overt and covert oppression.
Fortunately, the current emperor was still sensible and insisted on employing Xie Wenqiao.
Xie Wenqiao’s current position had been earned through several times the effort and dedication of others, often walking barefoot on the edge of a precipice.
Zhu Bo understood that this time, Xie Wenqiao had once again placed himself on an iron chain suspended over a cliff, with the slightest misstep leading to utter destruction and eternal damnation, all because he wanted to investigate the Weicheng case.
The Weicheng case had long been settled.
Yet Xie Wenqiao insisted on reopening it for investigation.
Not only would this offend the officials who had previously concluded that General Jiang’s negligence led to Weicheng’s defeat, but he would also face the mastermind behind the case.
Someone capable of orchestrating the defeat at Weicheng and silently suppressing it would not be easy to deal with.
Zhu Bo lived in constant anxiety day and night.
He wasn’t afraid of losing his own life; he feared for Xie Wenqiao’s safety. His young master was still very young. As the saying goes, “At thirty, one stands firm.” Xie Wenqiao still had a long way to go.
If Xie Wenqiao were to lose his life because of this, Zhu Bo wouldn’t know how to face his parents in the afterlife. However, he also knew that once Xie Wenqiao made a decision, not even ten oxen could pull him back.
Zhu Bo couldn’t stop him.
If he wanted to investigate, so be it. It was also his duty as a minister of the Great Zhou Dynasty. While Zhu Bo was worried, he was also quite gratified by Xie Wenqiao’s upright and unyielding approach to his work.
Although the emperor currently favored Xie Wenqiao, Zhu Bo was still uneasy.
The current emperor believed in Daoism, advocating for non-interventionist governance, which was completely contrary to Xie Wenqiao’s proactive, reform-oriented mindset.
Xie Wenqiao had been promoted by the emperor against all opposition. If he offended even the emperor in the future and got into trouble, the emperor might not protect him. Therefore, Zhu Bo occasionally advised him to maintain the emperor’s favor.
But Xie Wenqiao remained unchanged.
So Zhu Bo had to give up.
For now, all he could do was take good care of Xie Wenqiao until he died of old age.
Xie Wenqiao understood Zhu Bo’s good intentions. He wanted to stay true to his principles, which is why he hadn’t made any changes.
Another reason was that the emperor’s mind was hard to fathom.
Xie Wenqiao couldn’t grasp what the emperor was really thinking. Among the officials, only the emperor knew of Xie Wenqiao’s intent to investigate the Weicheng case. Yet the emperor neither supported nor opposed it, leaving his stance unclear.
Even so, Xie Wenqiao’s determination to reinvestigate the Weicheng case remained unchanged.
Today, Jiang Songwei brought Xie Wenqiao some shocking news.
The source of the information was Jiang Xuewan.
Someone had used a hairpin to carve a message into Jiang Xuewan’s back. Jiang Songwei had only recently discovered the writing on Jiang Xuewan’s back. Judging by the handwriting, it appeared to have been written by her mother.
Jiang Xuewan’s mother had always been very fond of her and would never have willingly inflicted such deep wounds on her back with a hairpin. But before the fall of Weicheng, she had endured her heartache to do this. Why?
All this was done to leave behind the content of a letter.
During the chaos in Weicheng, the original letter was burned by traitors. Jiang Xuewan’s mother, relying on her photographic memory, transcribed it from memory.
Writing it anywhere else risked it being lost, so Jiang Xuewan’s mother chose to write it on Jiang Xuewan herself. She then found a place for her to hide, pinning the hope of revealing the truth on her.
If she survived, there was hope.
Those responsible for endangering Weicheng must have discovered Jiang Xuewan.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t have cursed her.
Turning her into a fool.
While it was fortunate that Jiang Xuewan survived, Jiang Songwei couldn’t understand why those people didn’t kill her to eliminate the threat permanently. Instead, they mercifully left her alive with a curse.
However, they likely didn’t discover the writing on her back; otherwise, they wouldn’t have let it go.
Two months ago, Jiang Songwei accidentally discovered the writing on Jiang Xuewan’s back. He immediately rushed to Chang’an to find Xie Wenqiao.
Jiang Songwei didn’t know who else to turn to. Xie Wenqiao was their last hope. His elder brother, General Jiang, had a keen eye for people, and he trusted Xie Wenqiao.
The letter on her back was crucial.
Its content implicated Prince Qing, Liu Yan, in treason. He had colluded with the Hu people, selling military information, leading to the total annihilation of Weicheng’s army and the displacement of many of its citizens.
Xie Wenqiao didn’t jump to conclusions and couldn’t interrogate anyone based on the letter, as it wasn’t the original and couldn’t be used as evidence. He could only use it as a direction for investigation.
Only with solid evidence could he summon someone for questioning, especially someone like Liu Yan.
A prince.
His status was too sensitive.
Xie Wenqiao had to proceed with extreme caution. If Liu Yan truly committed treason, he should face the proper punishment. The emperor, upon seeing the evidence, wouldn’t be lenient.
Suddenly, Xie Wenqiao thought of someone.
Princess Luoyan.
It was well known that she had a close relationship with Liu Yan, seeing him almost as a father figure.
If Princess Luoyan learned that Liu Yan might be involved in treason, how would she react? She would undoubtedly be deeply hurt.
Liu Yan’s treason wouldn’t implicate Princess Luoyan. She was adopted by the emperor and empress, not by Liu Yan. But hearts are made of flesh, and such news would be devastating.
Xie Wenqiao realized his thoughts were drifting.
He quickly refocused, drank the sweet soup Zhu Bo brought, and told the elderly Zhu Bo to rest early. Then, he continued reviewing the dossiers.
*
After watching the Kongming lanterns, He Sui’an lay sprawled on the floor of her inn room, counting her expenses on her fingers.
Early that morning, she had gone to the river outside Chang’an to track the mastermind’s whereabouts, returning to the city by midday. Not long after, she took her red snake out to find a shop selling Kongming lanterns.
After buying the lanterns, she had to write on them. Once that was done, she hurried back to dine with Qi Buyan, afraid of missing their scheduled time to release the lanterns. She hastily finished her meal and took him to the rooftop.
In short, He Sui’an hadn’t had a moment to rest today and had no time to do her accounts.
But she needed to, as she had debts to repay.
He Sui’an had already returned the leftover silver coins to Shen Jianhe. Each Kongming lantern cost two wen, and buying 500 lanterns cost one tael of silver. Buying ink and brushes cost 600 wen, making the total one tael and 600 wen.
Additionally, there was the labor cost for releasing the lanterns. Shen Jianhe hired 100 people, each needing one wen. Including this 100 wen, He Sui’an owed Shen Jianhe one tael and 700 wen.
A lot.
To He Sui’an, it was indeed a lot.
She wasn’t like Qi Buyan, who could make gold by refining Gu. He Sui’an had very little money, with only a few light coins in her purse.
Not realizing it before, He Sui’an now discovered she was quite poor.
She needed to find a way to earn money.
Shen Jianhe had told her she didn’t need to repay him, but there was no way she would not repay her debt.
While Qi Buyan was bathing, He Sui’an rolled around on the floor after finishing her accounts. The inn’s floor was scrubbed clean by the staff every day, making it very clean and comfortable to roll on in the summer heat, dispelling her body heat. However, she knew she needed to find the true culprit behind the murder of Princess Luoyan’s brother and sister-in-law before figuring out how to make money.
If she didn’t uncover the real murderer, He Sui’an might not live long.
The enemy had already tried to kill them.
She rolled around the floor again and ended up at the feet of Qi Buyan, who had just walked out from behind the screen, his indigo robe coming into view.
She stopped rolling.
His fingertips, still slightly red and moist, bent as he looked down at her.
Qi Buyan’s long hair fell forward, accidentally brushing against He Sui’an’s face. She pushed it away with her hand and remembered to ask if he liked the Kongming lanterns. “Did you think the Kongming lanterns were beautiful tonight?”
“Beautiful.” At He Sui’an’s words, Qi Buyan’s mind filled with the image of hundreds of Kongming lanterns floating in the night sky, and he could hear her voice wishing him a happy birthday.
Strange.
His heartbeat sped up because of it.
Too strange.
He twisted her long hair around his fingers and suddenly whispered, “He Sui’an, tonight I want to kiss you.”
aw, she’s feeling closer to the snake! it said, “her snake” 🥺