He Sui’an resisted the urge to cover herself with a quilt, quietly adjusting her thin gauze dress but found it couldn’t block the cold. She lay back on the bed and said against her better judgment, “This is much cooler and more comfortable. How about you?”
She not only didn’t cover herself with the quilt but also kicked it to the foot of the bed, preventing Qi Buyan from using it.
Covering with a quilt would warm things up.
Qi Buyan wasn’t afraid of the cold. Feeling the low temperature would put him into a deep sleep due to the Heavenly Silkworm Gu inside him. Because of this, there was no worry about him feeling uncomfortable or getting sick.
“It’s fine,” Qi Buyan said as he lay on the outer side of the bed, feeling much more of the cold from the ice blocks compared to He Sui’an, who was on the inner side.
The candle flame was extinguished, plunging the room into seemingly endless darkness. She lay on her side, looking at him.
Qi Buyan could feel her gaze.
He also turned to lie on his side.
They looked at each other in the darkness, and He Sui’an, as if driven by some unseen force, reached out towards Qi Buyan, her cool fingers touching his delicate eyebrows and eyes.
He Sui’an had known from the first time she saw him that Qi Buyan was good-looking.
But when they first met, looking at his face carried a bit of fear because she knew Qi Buyan wasn’t as kind as he appeared. She had seen him kill.
Now, however, the fear had lessened, replaced by something else. What could it be, she wondered vaguely, as her fingers lingered on his eyebrows. He blinked softly.
His long lashes brushed against her.
The tickle made her retract her hand.
After a moment, He Sui’an reached out again, pulling at Qi Buyan’s wide sleeve. She suddenly said, “To me, you are a real person, not just a fictional character in a book.”
Qi Buyan rarely showed strong emotions, but He Sui’an had seen two instances: one when he was killing and the other when he was being intimate with her.
On the day He Sui’an confessed everything to Qi Buyan, she wondered how he would react to learning the truth.
She didn’t expect his reaction to be so calm.
He seemed to take it in stride without much emotional turmoil.
He Sui’an had tried to imagine what her reaction would be if someone told her she was a character in a book. She would feel her world turned upside down.
She didn’t know what Qi Buyan truly felt. At this moment, she just wanted to share her thoughts with him, not wanting to keep them bottled up.
Qi Buyan habitually twisted He Sui’an’s long hair spread out on the bed. “I know.”
An overwhelming drowsiness was creeping over him.
He lowered his eyes, then raised them again.
For some reason, Qi Buyan didn’t want to sleep tonight. Just as he was about to pinch his palm to fight off the sleepiness, He Sui’an grabbed his hand and snuggled into his arms, as if she wanted to sleep holding him.
With He Sui’an’s soft and fragrant body in his arms, smelling her scent, Qi Buyan gradually relaxed and stopped resisting the sleepiness.
At night, the temperature would drop lower than during the day, and with so many ice basins around the bed, it got even colder. Just before falling into a deep sleep, Qi Buyan unconsciously nuzzled her with his face.
His breathing was very shallow.
He Sui’an lay with her eyes closed but did not sleep.
*
Meanwhile, at the Xie residence.
Xie Wenqiao still couldn’t sleep through the night. He needed to sort out the recent events.
Jiang Xuewan’s Soul Capturing Gu had been removed by Aunt Cui, and she had returned to normal, recounting everything that happened in Weicheng to Xie Wenqiao before locking herself in her room, refusing food and drink.
She regretted stopping the runaway horse at the market back then. She felt she should have let it go and let it kill or trample Ah Xuan.
Jiang Songwei went to comfort Jiang Xuewan.
Xie Wenqiao, not knowing how to console people and not being familiar with Jiang Xuewan, did not interfere much, choosing to sit alone in his study to work.
The Ministry of Justice had many pending cases. Xie Wenqiao dealt with official duties during the day and squeezed time at night to investigate the Weicheng case in secret, leaving him with little rest.
Sitting at his desk, he reviewed the case files on Weicheng once again.
The candle flame flickered in the wind.
He got up to close the window behind him. Just as he closed the window, there was a knock on the door. Steward Zhu had come to bring Xie Wenqiao a nourishing meal, insisting on watching him eat before leaving.
Sometimes, Xie Wenqiao would get so engrossed in his work that he wouldn’t touch the food left for him until it had gone cold. Steward Zhu knew his habits well, which is why he insisted.
Knowing the steward’s stubbornness, Xie Wenqiao put aside his work to eat.
Steward Zhu sat across from him, watching him eat. Though they were master and servant, they were more like family, not standing on ceremony and often eating together at the same table, as per Xie Wenqiao’s request.
Watching Xie Wenqiao eat the food he had prepared, Steward Zhu felt very satisfied.
Xie Wenqiao, preoccupied with his thoughts, sped up his eating, only to be scolded by Steward Zhu, so he slowed down, knowing the steward cared for him.
Before coming to the capital and passing the imperial examinations as the top scholar, Xie Wenqiao lived a hard life in Qingzhou.
The old master of the Duan family in Qingzhou appreciated his talent and personally tutored him for a while. However, people looked down on him for his humble origins. Even the old master’s grandson had mocked and insulted him.
Yet, those same people had forgotten these events once he achieved success.
When the old master’s grandson, eldest young master Duan, was caught buying phantom Gu, a friend asked Xie Wenqiao if he would handle the matter impartially, essentially asking if he still remembered the insults of the past.
His answer was no.
Xie Wenqiao wasn’t lying to his friend. His mind was entirely focused on state affairs, and the past was the past. He had neither the time nor the energy to hold onto those grievances.
He knew his personality wasn’t likable. As Princess Luoyan had once scolded him, he was rigid, pedantic, and stubborn.
Xie Wenqiao finished his meal.
He put down his chopsticks and said, “Steward Zhu, you should go rest early.”
Steward Zhu stood up and picked up the tray with the bowls, chopsticks, and plates. “Young Master, you also need to rest early. Don’t think that because you’re young, you can work day and night without a break. Remember to take care of your health.”
“I will,” Xie Wenqiao replied, seeing Steward Zhu out before returning to his desk.
He picked up his brush and wrote a name: Liu Yan.
A guest at the Princess’s residence banquet claimed to have seen Liu Yan throw a dagger. Why would Liu Yan want to kill He Sui’an and Qi Buyan, whom he barely knew? Xie Wenqiao couldn’t understand it.
Even if it didn’t make sense, Xie Wenqiao had to handle the matter impartially. However, the guest was unwilling to testify. Liu Yan might be a prince with little real power, but who would want to cause trouble by testifying against a prince?
The case had to be put on hold.
Xie Wenqiao then took out a piece of paper with a totem drawn on it. The totem was sketched by Jiang Xuewan.
The person who massacred Jiang’s family had this totem on their wrist. The totem was simple, resembling a jade jue. Jiang Xuewan knew Ah Xuan wasn’t the mastermind and asked Xie Wenqiao to help investigate.
When Jiang Xuewan first returned to normal, she asked who helped her remove the Gu. Jiang Songwei told her it was a woman named Aunt Cui. Jiang Xuewan wondered why Aunt Cui suddenly decided to help a stranger.
There’s no such thing as gratuitous help in this world.
There had to be a reason.
Jiang Songwei explained that Aunt Cui had claimed to know He Sui’an, suggesting that He Sui’an had asked Aunt Cui to help remove the Gu. Jiang Xuewan still felt something was off.
Their encounters hadn’t been frequent or deep enough for He Sui’an to be constantly worried about the Gu in her body. Jiang Xuewan knew her own worth.
If He Sui’an had asked someone to help her, shouldn’t it have been Qi Buyan? But he had previously refused to remove the Gu for her. It was unlikely, but not impossible, that He Sui’an would ask someone else.
Although it seemed far-fetched, Jiang Xuewan believed it because there was no other explanation.
Xie Wenqiao also thought Aunt Cui was someone He Sui’an had found to help Jiang Xuewan and didn’t send anyone to investigate Aunt Cui. After all, she had come to save, not harm, someone. It wouldn’t be right to investigate everyone.
In the study, the candle flame burned quietly.
Xie Wenqiao stared at the totem on the paper for a long time. Totems usually symbolized individuals or organizations.
The first person that came to his mind when he saw the jade jue totem was Liu Yan. Perhaps it was because Liu Yan always wore a jade jue whenever they met, leaving a deep impression.
However, many people in Chang’an wore jade jue, which didn’t prove anything.
Xie Wenqiao put down the paper.
Outside, the night was pitch black without any lights.
*
On the other side, He Sui’an opened her eyes in the pitch darkness. Her face was pressed against Qi Buyan’s chest, her arms around his waist, her leg over his leg. Their clothes were intertwined, making them appear very intimate.
He Sui’an wanted to slip out of Qi Buyan’s embrace but found his hand also wrapped around her waist.
The eight ice basins were diligently doing their job, and Qi Buyan was in a deep sleep. He Sui’an was almost cold enough to sneeze.
She gently tried to move his hand.
However, Qi Buyan’s grip was tight, and she couldn’t budge his hand.
He Sui’an grew anxious.
If she didn’t leave soon, it would be too late. She had no choice but to use some force to pry Qi Buyan’s hand away.
Eventually, his hand fell onto the bed, the butterfly silver chain on his wrist jangling with a somewhat eerie sound in the night. Fortunately, Qi Buyan didn’t wake up.
He Sui’an managed to slip out of Qi Buyan’s embrace, get off the bed, put on her shoes, and glance at him. She leaned over to pull down Qi Buyan’s sleeve, which had slid to his elbow, covering the butterfly silver chain.
Qi Buyan’s arms hung at his sides, and his feet peeked out slightly from under his dark blue robe.
He Sui’an opened the wardrobe, took out a bundle containing a defensive dagger, slung it over her shoulder, and left a few letters by the soft pillow. She opened the door and headed straight for the back gate of the princess’s residence.
*
At dawn, just as the sky was beginning to lighten.
Qi Buyan’s eyelashes fluttered, and he woke up. He was now facing the inside of the bed, where He Sui’an should have been, but it was empty. He sat up and looked around the room.
There was no sign of her.
The ice in the basins had all melted into water.
Out of the corner of his eye, Qi Buyan saw a few letters partially tucked under the soft pillow, each envelope bearing a name—Su Yang, Shen Jianhe, Jiang Songwei, and one with his own name.
He picked up his letter and opened it.
He Sui’an still wasn’t very good at writing in traditional characters, but Qi Buyan could roughly understand what she meant. After reading it, he calmly placed the letter back in the envelope and got up to dress.
The final click of his belt buckle was noticeably loud.
He walked to the window, pushed it half-open, and picked up his bone flute, giving it a short, sharp blow. The sound was brief and fleeting, meant to summon the poisonous Gu, without causing him any harm.
Soon enough, the Gu responded to the flute sound, climbing up to the windowsill, accompanied by butterflies from around the princess’s residence. Qi Buyan raised his hand, and a few butterflies landed on his palm, their wings slowly fluttering.
His unadorned long hair was blown by the morning breeze. “Take me to He Sui’an.”
This time, neither the butterflies nor the Gu moved.
Qi Buyan’s fingers tightened.
She had concealed her presence.