The torrential rain had drenched Gong Yuwen from head to toe, washing away most of the mud streaking her face.
She had not lifted an umbrella once. She simply let the rain hammer down upon her hair and stream over her cheeks, soaking her pink dress until it clung tightly to her body.
Whenever there was no one around, the pitiful look on her face vanished without a trace. Her expression turned as dark as the storm clouds roiling across the horizon.
In truth, she was more accustomed to pulling the corners of her lips sharply downward and staring fixedly ahead without blinking, allowing the filthy rainwater mixed with mud to run into her eyes until they burned red.
Only when she reached the gates of the Xie residence did she finally stop. She stood quietly in the curtain of rain for a moment.
Like a stiff puppet drenched by a storm, she slowly worked her aching cheeks, forcing the corners of her lips upward and knitting her brows. She suppressed the ferocity churning in her eyes and once again put on an expression of tearful, vulnerable beauty.
“Go open the gate,” she ordered the maid beside her coldly.
The maid hurried up the steps and pounded on the door knocker. Hearing the commotion, the servants inside hurriedly moved the heavy crossbar aside.
As though the curtain on a stage were slowly rising, the moment Gong Yuwen made her entrance, the rims of her eyes turned red.
“My lady! What happened to you?!” The steward was so frightened by her bedraggled appearance that he nearly lost his wits. He was just about to rush forward and support her when he suddenly remembered the difference between men and women and could only stamp his foot anxiously. “Oh dear! I’ll go inform the lord at once!”
Xie Langyang was pulled up from his desk by the steward.
When he rose, a momentary daze clouded his expression. He had been bent over his desk for too long, leaving his arm numb and aching and his back uncomfortable from the cool breeze blowing through the window. Only after looking around did he realize that he had fallen asleep in the unlit study. Lowering his head, he saw that his palm was still tightly holding the copy of Late Mountain Rhapsody.
Outside, dark clouds hung low in the sky as heavy rain poured down, the drops striking the window lattice with a sharp, incessant patter.
Xie Langyang had no idea why he had slept for so long.
He was just about to speak when the steward gasped, “My lord! You must go and see for yourself! Someone has bullied Madam!”
“What?!” Xie Langyang broke into a cold sweat. His backside left the chair, and all traces of weariness vanished in an instant.
“Oh, dear! Madam is crying in her room, and she won’t tell us anything no matter what we ask!” The steward anxiously rubbed his hands together.
“I’ll go take a look!”
Xie Langyang hurried away from the desk, taking three steps in the time it took to walk two. But when he reached the doorway and saw the vast curtain of rain outside, his steps suddenly halted.
He lowered his head and glanced at the copy of Late Mountain Rhapsody in his palm. Then he turned back, carefully slipped the pages into an old book, and returned it to its original place. Only after making sure it was secure did he hurry out again and head straight for the inner courtyard.
The stone path from the study to the inner courtyard had been soaked slick by the rain. Xie Langyang strode forward urgently, moving so quickly that even the steward, jogging behind him, could not keep up.
He stumbled to a stop outside Gong Yuwen’s room. His hand hovered over the dark wooden door for a moment before he knocked heavily.
“Yuwen, what happened?”
Only soft sobbing came from inside. Gong Yuwen did not answer, as though she had been wronged to the point of being unable to speak.
“Yuwen?” Xie Langyang knocked again, growing increasingly anxious.
The maid Qiaoyu could not stand it any longer. She yanked open the door, her willow brows drawn together as she cried angrily, “My lord, Madam just—”
“Qiaoyu! Shut your mouth! Don’t say anything!” Gong Yuwen lay facedown on the bed, choking back sobs as she sharply cut her off.
Xie Langyang looked up and nearly failed to recognize the woman on the bed as Gong Yuwen.
Her hair was completely disheveled, and her jeweled hairpins had vanished. Her pink dress was filthy, and glaring traces of blood showed faintly at her cuffs. Anyone who saw her would have assumed she had suffered some terrible abuse.
Xie Langyang’s head began to buzz, and every hair on his body seemed to stand on end.
Although he had no romantic feelings for Gong Yuwen, after several years as husband and wife, they had inevitably developed some affection for one another. What was more, she was his mentor’s cherished daughter.
“Qiaoyu, you tell me!” Xie Langyang spun around and demanded in a harsh voice.
Qiaoyu wiped her eyes and sniffed. She shot Xie Langyang a somewhat resentful glance before spilling everything out like beans from a split pod.
“It’s all because of you, my lord! Madam saw how miserable and tormented you’ve been day after day, and she couldn’t bear it any longer. That’s why she went alone to the Wen residence, hoping to beg Director Wen to show mercy and reconcile with you so the two of you would stop tormenting each other! Madam said she was willing to give you both her blessing. She only asked for a letter of divorce so she could return to the Gong family. She was even prepared to take all the blame upon herself and promised not to implicate you in the slightest!”
Xie Langyang froze, at a loss for how to respond.
“Qiaoyu! I told you to stop!” Gong Yuwen sobbed even harder, her shoulders trembling faintly.
“I refuse to stop!” Qiaoyu lifted her chin, as though she had thrown caution to the wind, and her voice grew louder. “What sort of status does Madam have? She is the second daughter of Grand Secretary Gong! How could she possibly endure such humiliation? The moment Director Wen saw Madam, he took his hatred for you out on her. He mocked and ridiculed her, saying that you had married her only because you pinched your nose and forced yourself to do it, and that a filthy, despicable thing like you could only hope that Madam would be willing to have you! He even told you to keep your tail tucked between your legs and behave. He said that if you provoked him, then whenever he happened to be in a bad mood, he could crush you to death with a casual gesture!”
Every word struck Xie Langyang’s heart like a dagger.
The veins on his forehead throbbed violently. Blood rushed to his head, turning his face red, then purple, then bluish. A rare, savage fury surfaced between his brows and eyes.
“Wen Wanshan… He really said that?!” Xie Langyang ground out each word through clenched teeth. The hatred in his eyes made even Qiaoyu tremble.
Gong Yuwen suddenly raised her head. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying, and tears continued to spill down her cheeks.
She looked at Xie Langyang and shook her head desperately. “Xie Lang, don’t listen to Qiaoyu’s nonsense. Please, don’t get into another altercation with Director Wen because of me…”
“Nonsense?” Qiaoyu immediately shot back. “Then are the injuries on Madam’s hands fake?! When Director Wen saw Madam arguing on your behalf, he summoned two fierce country women from the residence and had them beat her without a second thought! Madam has been pampered since childhood—how could she possibly withstand such treatment? Just look at her hands! They’re covered in wounds. She lost so much blood!”
“Let me see!”
Xie Langyang rushed forward in a panic. Forgetting all the propriety he normally observed, he seized Gong Yuwen’s wrist.
“Don’t… don’t look…” Gong Yuwen struggled to pull her hand away, but he held it firmly.
Xie Langyang lowered his gaze. On her hands, usually so delicate and fair, were several gruesome wounds. Fine threads of blood still seeped from some of them.
His heart felt as though something had given it a vicious wrench. He abruptly turned toward the door and shouted, “Call a physician!”
“Yes!” the steward answered from outside.
Xie Langyang sat beside the bed and gazed at Gong Yuwen’s disheveled face, his heart overflowing with guilt and pity.
“Yuwen, I’m sorry.” His brows were tightly furrowed, and his voice was filled with remorse. “All these years, I let my obsession consume me, and you suffered so many grievances because of it… That won’t happen anymore. Never again.”
Gong Yuwen stared at him blankly, disbelief filling her tearful eyes.
Xie Langyang raised a hand and clumsily wiped the tears from her face. “I swear, I will never fail you in this life.”
Those words finally brought Gong Yuwen back to her senses. She could no longer hold herself back and threw herself into his arms, bursting into tears.
“Xie Lang… Xie Lang…”
Xie Langyang held her tightly, feeling the cold body in his arms tremble faintly. His heart was filled with conflicting emotions.
A faint fragrance of osmanthus lingered in Gong Yuwen’s hair, sweet and gentle.
Suddenly, he felt like a complete fool.
All these years, it was as if something had clouded his mind. He had clung obsessively to the heavy snowfall on Qingping Mountain, searching for her without regard for anything else. Overjoyed, he had placed that camellia in the palm of his hand, yet had forgotten that she had never wanted to be a white camellia, pure and fragrant. She had only ever wanted to be the lofty moon above a cold mountain.
From beginning to end, he alone had remained trapped in the past.
That night, Xie Langyang stayed in Gong Yuwen’s room. He kept watch by her bed until she had fallen into a peaceful sleep.
Only when the night was deep and all was still did he quietly rise and walk back to his study, shutting the frost-white world outside behind him.
The candle flame flickered, casting shifting light across his eyes. He sat in silence for a long while before closing them.
When he had drunk the ginger soup earlier, he had actually detected an extremely faint, unusual fragrance in it. It had seemed familiar—almost as if he had smelled it while drunk in his previous life.
But he was unwilling to think about it too closely.
By his reckoning, Shen Chen had been imprisoned in the rear annex for more than a month. Perhaps he had been waiting all along for an opportunity like this—an opportunity that would force him to burn his boats and leave him with no choice.
Just as in his previous life, when he had chosen that path against his will for the sake of Gong Yuwen and her child.
The watchman’s call shattered the silence of the long night. The morning mist extinguished the candle, which had burned down to its end. Outside the window, the pale blue-white light spilled across the desk, and Xie Langyang abruptly opened his eyes.
Only then did he see the words he had unknowingly written:
“All my life I read only the sages’ books, accustomed to swallowing every grievance. Then suddenly I shattered the shackles of goodness, broke the chains of righteousness. In the piles of old pages, blood congealed red. Only today do I know the truth: I am truly evil.”
-
After Gong Yuwen left, the trace of nonchalance vanished from Wen Zhuo’s face.
He sat quietly in the front hall for a long time. Fine rain spattered the covered walkway, and the damp chill drifted into the room, making him shiver faintly.
Liu Qiying watched his unusual demeanor, her heart inexplicably tightening. Jiang Mannü, too, lost her playful air and studied him in confusion.
Only then did Wen Zhuo slowly raise his eyes and issue his orders in a calm voice. “Liu Qiying, summon Gu Weizhi and Huang Ting to the marquis’s residence. Jiang Mannü, go ask Ge Wei to find a way to bring Her Highness out of the palace. I have something to discuss with everyone shortly.”
“Director?” Liu Qiying keenly caught the gravity in his eyes.
A faint smile touched Wen Zhuo’s lips. “Do as I say.”
By the time the lamps were lit, the main hall of Marquis Yongning’s residence was ablaze with light.
Wen Zhuo sat on the left. Marquis Yongning occupied the central seat, with Jun Dingyuan and Jun Mulan on either side of him. Gu Weizhi and Huang Ting sat below Wen Zhuo, while Liu Qiying and Jiang Mannü stood side by side inside the hall entrance.
The moment Marquis Yongning took his seat, he sensed the solemn atmosphere filling the room. His brows immediately drew together. “Director Wen, you summoned us here so late at night. Has something serious happened?”
Several pairs of eyes turned toward Wen Zhuo. Unlike his usual composure, his expression was unusually grave.
“My lord, Your Highness, General, and everyone else,” he said, “I have called you here today to ask a favor. I hope you will follow my instructions precisely and refrain from acting on impulse, no matter what happens.”
Everyone exchanged glances. Gu Weizhi answered without hesitation, “Whatever you require, Director—even if it means defying Heaven itself, I, Gu Weizhi, will have no second thoughts.”
Jun Dingyuan had always possessed a fiery temper. Seeing Wen Zhuo’s gaze settle on him, he could only respond helplessly, “Just say the word, Director. Even without Senior Brother here, I can keep my temper under control.”
Only after receiving their assurances did Wen Zhuo speak slowly. “At the next court assembly, Xie Langyang will certainly impeach me. I ask all of you that, no matter what he says or how many officials join him in making accusations, you must not defend me. Leave me to handle it myself.”
“What?” Gu Weizhi’s expression changed at once. He slapped the table and rose. “How dare Xie Langyang!”
Huang Ting was equally baffled, his brows knitting into a deep furrow. “Director, your achievements these past days have been plain for all to see, and you have always kept to your duties. What grounds could he possibly find to impeach you?”
Wen Zhuo gently rubbed the white stone between his fingers. The matter was too difficult to explain, so he merely closed his eyes briefly. “You will understand when the time comes. Let me repeat myself: whatever happens, do not speak on my behalf. In His Majesty’s eyes, I am a lone official who takes no part in factional struggles and serves only the throne. If you defend me, not only will you bring trouble upon yourselves, you will also confirm the charge that I am forming a private faction. You would only harm me.”
Jun Dingyuan still wanted to argue. “But His Majesty has always known that I speak my mind. Surely he would not—”
Before he could finish, Gu Weizhi interrupted him, fuming. “How can we let him twist right and wrong like this? Is the Xie family truly so spotless in Nan Prefecture? I say the Ministry of Revenue should impeach him first!”
“Both of you, calm down.” Huang Ting sighed and spoke slowly. “The Director is right. Have you forgotten how the former Crown Prince’s faction turned on itself during the victory banquet? If Grand Secretary Gong had not secretly revealed Lord Mo’s whereabouts to Cao Youwei, how would His Majesty have come to fear the Cao faction and resolved to eradicate it? The more we defend the Director now, the deeper His Majesty’s suspicions will grow.”
Huang Ting’s words were like a basin of cold water, dousing the impulse of Gu Weizhi and Jun Dingyuan.
Wen Zhuo continued, “There is one more matter. If I am imprisoned because of this, we must not let Mo Shu in Songzhou or His Highness in Jin’gai know. Mo Shu is devoted to justice, while His Highness is ruled by emotion. If they learn that something has happened to me, they will certainly abandon the canal-transport reforms and preparations for maritime shipping and return to the capital overnight. That is precisely what Xie Langyang and Shen Chen want. Once they return, the interests of the canal-transport groups will seize the opportunity to strike back. His Majesty will also conclude that I and His Highness are conspiring to seize the succession. By then, all the work we have poured into these past two years will come to nothing.”
His hand came to a stop, and his gaze shifted to Jun Dingyuan. “General, I need you to mobilize the forces of the Three Garrisons and strictly inspect every courier and relay rider traveling from the capital toward Jin’gai. Not a word about me can be allowed to reach there.”
“This matter must also be reported to Duke Liu. The commander of the Five Cities’ Army Command was once his subordinate. Besides courier riders and relay messengers, even merchants and travelers heading toward Jin’gai must be searched carefully. We must seal every possible gap and give Shen Chen’s agents no opportunity to exploit one.” Wen Zhuo paused, his tone unwavering. “It will not take long. At most a month, and this matter will have blown over.”
He had considered every possible weakness and laid out his plans with meticulous care. Just as he had said before, to conceal something that was already enormous, one had to create something even larger—something that would inspire even greater fear in the emperor.
Now he would enter the trap himself, swearing to make sure Xie Langyang died without a place to be buried.
Wen Zhuo was still immersed in his careful preparations when Jun Mulan, who had remained silent until then, finally spoke.
She looked at Wen Zhuo, her expression complicated, with a faint, barely perceptible sadness in her eyes.
“You want us to keep Zheng’er in the dark and conceal the truth about your safety from him. Don’t you think… that is rather cruel to him?”
Wen Zhuo froze for a moment, then lifted his eyes to meet Jun Mulan’s gaze. There was an unusual clarity in that expression, as though he had seen through the hidden feelings beneath it.
His heart stirred, and he uncomfortably looked away from Jun Mulan. In a calm, detached tone, he said, “His Highness is a man destined to accomplish great things. I’m afraid he’ll simply have to endure a little cruelty.”
Wanting Xie Langyang dead was his own selfish desire. The “Rhapsody of Late Mountain” was also a hidden danger he had left behind in those years. He intended to settle things with Xie Langyang himself and would never let Shen Zheng get dragged into this mess.
Once this thorny matter was resolved, he would be able to remain with Shen Zheng without a single burden weighing on him. When Shen Zheng returned from Jinhai, Wen Zhuo would make him tell him all about the sights and sounds of the seaside. He would also make Shen Zheng prepare cotton candy by hand several times, to make up for the two pieces he had been limited to each day these past few months!
The secret discussion lasted until two sticks of incense had burned down. Wen Zhuo repeated his instructions again and again, speaking with such earnestness that he finally managed to convince everyone.
By the time they returned to the Wen residence through the secret passage, the night dew had grown heavy. Wen Zhuo felt his throat growing dry, and his body was tense and chilled. He therefore instructed, “Liu Qiying, brew me a bowl of pear water.”
But no one answered from behind him.
Wen Zhuo turned back in surprise, only to see Liu Qiying standing at the foot of the steps, neither near nor far. Her eyes were faintly red.
“It’s because of that copy of the ‘Rhapsody of Late Mountain,’ isn’t it?”
Wen Zhuo remained silent, which amounted to an admission.
Liu Qiying’s shoulders suddenly trembled. Clenching her teeth, she said guiltily, “It’s all my fault! If I had managed to retrieve it back then, it never would have become such a serious threat!”
Wen Zhuo rarely saw her like this. Instead, he found himself somewhat amused. Curling his lips, he said, “By that logic, wouldn’t it have been better if I had never written it in the first place?”
Jiang Mannü, standing nearby, rolled up her sleeves and clenched her fists. In her deep, booming voice, she said, “My lord! I don’t understand all this weighing and scheming. I only know that Xie Langyang can forget about harming you! Why don’t I sneak into the Xie residence tonight and snap his neck?”
Wen Zhuo frowned and stared at her as though she had said something utterly incomprehensible. “Do you think an official of the imperial court is a chicken raised in the backyard, to be killed whenever you please?”
“At a time like this, how can you still be in the mood to joke?” Liu Qiying was both furious and frantic, her face as pale as paper. “The laws of Da Qian clearly state that a man loving another man is a crime against human morality. At best, one receives dozens of strokes; at worst, one is exiled three thousand li and made a slave. With your frail constitution, my lord, wouldn’t that be tantamount to a death sentence?”
Wen Zhuo said slowly, “I know.”
Liu Qiying was so infuriated by his breezy manner that her chest felt tight. Her eyes grew even redder, but she stubbornly bit her lip, refusing to let the tears fall.
She simply resorted to a threat. “Since something is bound to happen anyway, I’ll steal the retirement money you’ve hidden beneath your bed tonight and never look back!”
At this, Jiang Mannü’s lips puckered, and her tears burst forth like water from a broken spout, splattering down the steps. “A-Liu, don’t say things like that in anger! I won’t let anything happen to my lord! Absolutely not!”
Wen Zhuo’s expression changed abruptly. He cried out in shock, “How did you know I keep all my retirement money under the bed?”
Liu Qiying shot him a vicious glare. The tears finally clung to her lashes. “There isn’t a single coin in this residence that can escape my notice!”
“So be it.” Wen Zhuo’s surprise vanished. He raised his chin slightly and once more donned his usual haughty air. “If you truly intend to run, don’t forget to do one thing for me before you leave. On the desk in my study are two compiled collections of palace secrets. After the regular court session, if I have not returned, quietly hand them over to the merchants who sell popular fiction in the streets. Tell them that every word is true, and that the contents are so shocking they rival the wildest unofficial histories. Make sure they spread them far and wide throughout the capital.”
Liu Qiying’s brows drew together, though the tightness in her heart eased somewhat. Her voice steadied as she asked, “Is this your countermeasure?”
Wen Zhuo nodded, then turned to look at Jiang Mannü, who was crying so hard she was a complete mess. “Look at you. You’re so big and strong, yet you’ve grown afraid when I’m not. What are you afraid of? I also have ten letters written beneath my pillow. If I’m gone, send one to His Highness every five days. Be sure to keep track of the dates, or he’ll certainly notice that something is wrong.”
Liu Qiying was quick to catch the inconsistency. She hurriedly asked, “Wait. How long will you be gone?”
Wen Zhuo shifted his gaze to her. “I already said—for no more than a month.”
Liu Qiying was nothing if not meticulous. “Then why did you prepare ten letters? One every five days means six would be enough!”
“...” Wen Zhuo was speechless. “It’s merely a precaution. If the secrets are spread effectively, this matter will be over very soon.”
Jiang Mannü kept wiping her face with her filthy sleeve. “But what if the letters you wrote in advance don’t match what His Highness writes to you?”
A faint flush spread across the tips of Wen Zhuo’s ears. He turned and drifted back into his room, leaving behind only a single sentence:
“...Of course I know what he’ll say!”
