Jiang Chonghai froze for a moment, his heart initially settling—so it was just a dancing girl he fancied? He had thought it was something far more serious. But then doubt crept in.
Qin Shaozong had held sway over the northern territories for years, surrounded by beauties as countless as fish in a river. Could there truly be a dancing girl in his own household who had caught the man’s attention?
Feng Chun? He didn’t recall any outstanding dancer by that name.
Though puzzled, Jiang Chonghai didn’t hesitate. “A trivial matter. For her to earn your favor is the greatest honor of her life. Consider her yours, my lord.”
Qin Shaozong raised his cup with a smile.
As the golden sun vanished, the banquet drew to a close. Once the wine and feasting ended, Qin Shaozong departed with his retinue.
Walking alone down a secluded corridor, Yan San spoke up. “At tonight’s banquet, I observed two or three of Jiang Chonghai’s subordinates—their words were hesitant, their expressions evasive, especially when I probed further. My lord, it seems the Prefect of Nankang has no intention of fully aiding us in suppressing the bandits.”
Qin Shaozong’s lips curled lazily. “Not just unwilling to help—he’s likely plotting mischief behind our backs. Li Zan, that salt smuggler who rose from peddling contraband—where do you think he got his initial stock? From colluding with corrupt officials, of course.”
“But Nankang and Li Zan’s stronghold in Ying County aren’t even neighboring territories! They’re practically at opposite ends, separated by several counties. Could Jiang Chonghai’s reach truly stretch that far, crossing multiple borders?” Mo Yanyun questioned.
Yan San countered, “You’ve got it backward. It’s not Jiang Chonghai with the long reach—it’s Li Zan.”
Qin Shaozong added, “Li Zan now styles himself ‘Grand Marshal of All Under Heaven,’ boasting a force of a hundred thousand elite soldiers. A towering tree doesn’t grow without deep, tangled roots.”
Mo Yanyun still didn’t grasp it. “My lord, just because his subordinates seemed evasive, can we conclude he’s colluding with Li Zan?”
Qin Shaozong chuckled darkly. “Of course not. But he’s guilty of something. Find an opportunity to search his residence discreetly. I suspect we’ll uncover something interesting.”
Mo Yanyun didn’t understand where this “guilt” came from, but seeing the smirk on Qin Shaozong’s face, he found it odd.
Jiang Chonghai conspiring with the salt smuggler Li Zan—wasn’t that bad news for them? So why did the lord seem almost… pleased?
He didn’t know, and he didn’t dare ask.
The journey wasn’t long, and soon they arrived at their temporary quarters. The courtyard was brightly lit, and a soft glow spilled from the rooms—courtesy of the night pearls within.
“Unless it’s urgent, do not disturb me tonight.” With that, Qin Shaozong strode toward the central chamber.
Mo Yanyun and Yan San exchanged glances, both recalling the beautiful woman who had emerged from the side room that afternoon.
The door creaked open.
Light from within spilled over the threshold, pooling around the man’s black boots before scattering underfoot.
At first, Qin Shaozong assumed Dai Li was in the inner chamber, merely too shy to greet him immediately. But soon, he realized something was amiss.
The room was too quiet—unnervingly devoid of another presence.
He strode into the inner chamber, his brown eyes sweeping the space. Empty. No trace of that graceful figure.
She hadn’t returned.
Had she encountered trouble on the way? Or was it…
The latter thought flickered briefly before he dismissed it.
His title alone hinted at his status, and he’d promised her she needn’t return to Jiang’s household. He’d even asked for her name—she couldn’t have missed the implication that she might escape that life.
On one side: crowded quarters with countless dancing girls, performing endlessly for faceless patrons. On the other: silks and delicacies, serving only him.
Even a fool would know which to choose.
Qin Shaozong turned and walked out.
Mo Yanyun had been badgering Yan San with questions, neither having yet retired. Seeing Qin Shaozong return so soon startled them—had he forgotten some urgent matter?
There was indeed a matter, though not the kind they’d assumed.
“Mo—” Qin Shaozong abruptly changed his mind. “Yan San, go to the dancers’ quarters and bring Feng Chun back.”
The two men blinked.
So, not urgent business after all.
Feng Chun—that must be the beauty’s name.
“At once.” Yan San clasped his hands and left.
Qin Shaozong returned to his chambers, leaving Mo Yanyun standing alone in the courtyard.
The burly man with thick black brows muttered to the wind, “Seems this woman’s no ordinary figure, to make the lord seek her out personally at such a time… Wait, did he originally mean to send me?”
Mo Yanyun scratched his head.
The last sliver of daylight vanished, the sky drowned in ink. No moon, no stars—just an oppressive black veil stretched over the heavens.
Dai Li stood in a shadowed corner of another courtyard, watching a distant building with pursed lips.
This was one of the servant quarters she’d learned of. But her earlier search had yielded nothing.
Her child wasn’t here.
Was he simply not in this building… or not in this estate at all? She dared not entertain the latter possibility.
“Who was that woman earlier? I’ve never seen her before—so strikingly beautiful. A new stewardess?” A hushed voice drifted from inside.
“Always said you were naive. With looks like that, how could she be just a stewardess? Probably another concubine for the prefect. Everyone knows his weakness for beauties—constantly adding new faces to the household. The prettiest become concubines, the middling ones dancers, the plainest maids. That woman just now? I’d say she outshines even Lady Bin, the current favorite. The winds are shifting again.”
“What are you two whispering about? Who’s prettier than Lady Bin? I didn’t see anyone.”
“She was only here a moment. Gone now—missed your chance.”
…
After eavesdropping fruitlessly, Dai Li turned toward another servants’ compound.
Best to act while the trail was warm. If her son wasn’t there either, she’d need to plan an escape from this estate.
Yan San was efficient, but this errand took longer than expected.
Two quarters of an hour later, he returned.
Mo Yanyun, who’d been idly waiting for the moon in the courtyard, turned eagerly—only to see Yan San alone.
Where was she?
Yan San approached the main chamber but didn’t knock. Instead, he reported from outside: “My lord, the steward surnamed Sun from the rear courtyard informed me—there is no dancer named ‘Feng Chun’ among their ranks.”
Mo Yanyun’s ears perked up in shock.
No Feng Chun?
Then who was that woman they’d seen that afternoon? Appearing from thin air, now vanished without trace—some peony spirit in human guise?
The door creaked open.
Qin Shaozong stood framed in the doorway, backlit by the room’s glow. His face remained shadowed, unreadable—but the weight of his presence pressed down like a gathering storm.
Yan San continued, "According to Steward Sun, there are twenty-six dancers in Jiang Chonghai's residence, including seven Hu dancers recently brought back from the Northern Prefecture's governor. Among these twenty-six, only three are over twenty-five years old—one Hu dancer and two Han women. However, none of these three have a vermilion mole on their forehead..."
Mo Yanyun couldn't help but ask, "Could it be that she isn’t a dancer?"
A beautiful woman appearing in the inner courtyard—if she wasn’t a dancer, then the only other identity she could have was Jiang Chonghai’s concubine.
As soon as these words left his mouth, Mo Yanyun saw Yan San shake his head. "No. I also ran into a minor steward surnamed Lin. Coincidentally, Steward Lin mentioned seeing the woman near the long corridor around the end of the Hour of the Goat. He didn’t recognize her and asked who she was. She replied that she was the Marquis’s concubine, and because her clothes had been accidentally stained by tea, she needed to change. She also asked him where the dancers of the residence stayed. At the time, Steward Lin didn’t suspect anything and truthfully told her."
Yan San added, "I went with Steward Lin to the eastern courtyard where the Han dancers reside. At the time, apart from two dancers who had gone out for a walk and hadn’t returned yet, everyone else was present. But I didn’t see 'Feng Chun' there. When I asked the other dancers, none of them knew anything about her. They all claimed they hadn’t seen any strangers recently, let alone a beautiful woman with a vermilion mole on her forehead."
Mo Yanyun was dumbfounded, growing more and more confused the longer he listened.
If the woman was from the residence and as stunning as she was—standing out like a bright pearl wherever she went—how could the stewards not recognize her?
She claimed to be the Marquis’s concubine... That might be true, but why would she ask about the dancers’ quarters? The dancers’ residence wasn’t a secret; anyone who had spent some time in the residence and bothered to ask would know.
Could it be that she wasn’t from the residence at all?
But that didn’t make sense either. Earlier, when the Marquis had asked Jiang Chonghai for someone, he specifically named "Feng Chun," and Jiang had agreed without hesitation, showing no signs of confusion.
Yet, among the Han dancers, there was no trace of her—no one even knew of her existence. Had she simply appeared out of thin air?
"Have you checked the western courtyard?" Mo Yanyun thought of another possibility. If she wasn’t in the eastern courtyard, perhaps she was in the western one. Otherwise, why would she ask the steward about the dancers’ quarters?
Yan San nodded. He had always been thorough and had indeed gone to investigate the western courtyard later. "Yes. Someone there saw her at the beginning of the Hour of the Monkey. One of the Hu dancers said the woman introduced herself as a friend of Qin Ji from the eastern courtyard and gave her name as Songlan..."
Mo Yanyun was stunned.
Songlan? Hadn’t she said her name was Feng Chun? How could she change her name in less than two hours?
But what shocked him even more was what Yan San said next: "According to 'Songlan,' she was originally from the south. While traveling north with her husband for business, they were ambushed by bandits. After some twists and turns, she recently arrived at Jiang’s residence. Since she hadn’t been assigned a role yet, she was temporarily staying in the eastern courtyard. The Hu dancers in Jiang’s residence were all new and unfamiliar with the household, so no one questioned her. She borrowed a gray-blue dress and some rice powder from the western courtyard and left shortly after."
Mo Yanyun felt as though he had fallen into a thick fog.
Her name was fake, and her story kept changing. Who was she really? What was her goal?
"She’s got quite the nerve," Qin Shaozong said with a cold laugh, his anger barely contained.
Mo Yanyun shuddered, his thoughts suddenly racing in another direction:
No matter who this woman was or why she acted so strangely, the fact remained—she had made a fool of the Marquis!
Who was their Marquis?
The only man in the court who had earned the highest noble rank through military achievements, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the Three Excellencies. The man who had beaten the wolves of the northern tribes into submission, turning them into tail-wagging dogs.
After all these years, what kind of schemes hadn’t he seen? What kind of hidden daggers hadn’t he dodged?
Mo Yanyun could swear on his life that the last person who dared to play their Marquis for a fool had been chopped into pieces and reincarnated in a dog’s belly.
Admittedly, compared to the grand schemes they’d faced before, this little trick was nothing. But being outwitted by a woman? That was a first.
"My Lord, perhaps it’s best not to pursue this matter for now," Mo Yanyun said quietly.
They had other business in Jiang’s residence, and given Jiang Chonghai’s hidden motives, they couldn’t afford to let a woman disrupt their plans.
Perhaps she had also assumed that, as guests, they wouldn’t make a scene in their host’s home—which was why she had dared to borrow the Marquis’s name for her own purposes.
Qin Shaozong let out a derisive chuckle. "Afraid? If something this trivial is enough to make you tremble, we might as well abandon the hunt for the salt smuggler Li Zan and return home. You can hide under your blankets and save everyone the embarrassment of seeing you quake at the slightest challenge."
Mo Yanyun froze.
Was the Marquis… actually planning to settle this score with her?
