Father, have you been well?

A shadow flipped and turned inside the room, searching high and low, inside and out. Finding nothing, it suddenly shot out with a swift “whoosh,” darting out through the outer wall and slipping into the chamber where Guan Yihe was imprisoned.

Guan Yihe paced anxiously, restless in place. When the figure clad in black entered, instead of being startled, a smile lit up his face—this was the same mysterious figure who had delivered the prince’s letter a few days before, instructing him to act accordingly. Though the man had not spoken a word last time, Guan Yihe remembered the silhouette clearly.

“Master, you’ve finally come! Is it Prince Li who wishes to rescue me?” he asked eagerly.

The black-clad man remained silent. He moved to where ink and brush lay, swiftly writing a few large characters before holding the paper up for Guan Yihe to read.

Guan Yihe read aloud, “From now on, no speaking...”

Suddenly, he recalled the letter the man had delivered last time—a letter that was to be destroyed after reading—and swallowed the remaining two characters, “only writing,” back down his throat.

That previous letter had explicitly mentioned that Fang Rulai might be a strange talent with an ability akin to “hearing the wind,” a person the prince desired to capture alive by special means.

Thus, Guan Yihe had issued a similar order to his stepmother, Ling Yun, ensuring the entire operation remained silent. Following the letter’s instructions, Ling Yun had lured Fang Rulai to the door under the false pretense that she intended to shoot him.

In truth, when sending that letter to Ling Yun, Guan Yihe had already planned to kill her. According to the plan, after killing Ling Yun, he would change clothes and openly capture Fang Rulai under the pretext of having “killed his aunt.” Yet unexpectedly, his own father acted first, capturing the intended target using the same excuse. Although the exact reason remained unknown, the obvious outcome was that Fang Rulai had narrowly escaped this ordeal.

The only difference between these two letter deliveries was that when the black-clad man delivered the letter to Guan Yihe, both men were careful to remain silent, but when Guan Yihe sent the letter to Ling Yun, though the messenger was silent, Ling Yun’s voice was not muted. Meaning, Fang Rulai still heard something and thus escaped?

Guan Yihe’s spirit lifted as he raised his hand and began writing.

“Master, it seems Fang Rulai truly has a talent akin to ‘hearing the wind’! We must inform the prince immediately.”

The black-clad man nodded and wrote in return:

“I just searched your father’s room. I’m certain Fang Rulai must be hiding there, yet I found no trace whatsoever. Are you sure there are no secret chambers or hidden passages?”

“Absolutely not. I grew up by his side; I’ve spent more time in his chambers than in my own. He never mentioned any secret passages or traps, nor have I ever seen any.”

“That’s strange. I saw him command many dishes and wine to be brought inside, but when I entered after he left, there wasn’t even a trace of wine’s scent. Very odd.”

“Perhaps he had people clear it away before you entered?”

“Impossible. I entered immediately after he left; no one else could have come in between.”

They exchanged a wary glance, seeing caution reflected in each other’s eyes.

Both grabbed their brushes simultaneously.

One wrote, “Are you trying to protect your father?”

The other responded, “The prince has promised not to act against my father.”

The black-clad man scoffed, flicked his sleeve, and turned to leave. Whether to act or not depended on the situation. Not only had the man obstructed the prince’s plan to establish embroidery workshops nationwide, he had also secretly detained the man the prince wanted and dared to threaten the prince with the imperial jade seal to secure release... Hmph! With the prince’s temperament, how could he stand idly by?

The shadow leapt out again, heading toward the palace.

Inside Zhide Hall.

On the golden throne sat Crown Prince Li Yincheng, his face shadowed and gloomy. Before him stood the Minister of Rites, Xu Zhenglin, whose expression was even darker.

“Your Highness, it’s still daytime. Although the court has adjourned, if any officials return and see you seated on the golden throne, it could cause unnecessary unrest. I earnestly suggest you step down promptly,” Xu said, nervously glancing back. He truly feared that the prince, not yet ascended, would be seen as treasonous for sitting on the throne.

The prince frowned, raised his hand, and with a flick, sent his tea bowl crashing to the floor at Xu’s feet with a sharp clatter.

Xu trembled but did not kneel; instead, he straightened, declaring, “If Your Highness does not wish to ascend the throne one day, then better to use that tea bowl to smash my head! I was chosen by Your Highness to assist you, yet I have failed to fulfill my duties properly. It would be better if I were dead, less trouble for you.”

“You!” The prince swiftly grabbed another tea bowl, but as he raised it, seeing Xu close his eyes, he grunted and lowered it again.

“Luxi, stand guard outside,” the prince ordered, then looked at Xu. “The Imperial Guards belong to me; Luxi is mine as well. You can rest assured now, can’t you?”

Xu opened his eyes, steadfast. “As long as this inner palace is not completely under the prince’s control, you cannot afford negligence. Otherwise, why would the imperial jade seal have gone missing, and we still haven’t found it?”

“You!” The prince was stung by Xu’s words but, after a moment’s frustration, descended from the throne. “Fine, I’ll do as you say.”

Only then did the tension leave Xu’s face. He tossed back his robe and knelt. “Everything I do is for your swift ascension. Should I offend Your Highness and cause displeasure, you may command my death on your coronation day—I would bear no resentment.”

Something flickered in the prince’s eyes. Xu Zhenglin had been by his side for over twenty years; even if Kong Kongzi betrayed him, Xu would not. So the tea bowl just now—there was no way he would have thrown it at Xu’s head or feet.

“Minister Xu, rise,” the prince said, bending to help him up. “Enough of this trivial matter. Our most urgent concern is to find the imperial jade seal.”

He reviewed the events after the seal’s disappearance. “When the late emperor passed, I was certain the seal was in the imperial study. But after the three-day mourning period, it vanished. Since then, the guards secretly searched every palace of the remaining princes and princesses with no results. Especially the second prince’s Jingde Hall! I even sent the guard commander Daichuan to investigate personally, but still nothing. Now the second prince is absent from the palace, and Jingde Hall is close to being overturned, yet no clue.”

Xu’s gaze darkened. “But a mere obscure elderly civilian wouldn’t use the imperial jade seal as a bargaining chip without reason, would he?”

After fruitless searches, the prince began to ponder. “Perhaps he mentioned it unintentionally?”

Xu shook his head calmly. “Your Highness, consider this: our investigations reveal Guan Qinghuai dotes on his son Guan Yihe. If true, he should curry favor with the prince to help his son’s prospects. Yet he doesn’t. On the contrary, he stakes his son’s life to negotiate with you. This clearly shows he intends to protect that monk behind the scenes.”

“But how would he know I don’t have the seal?”

“If we have yet to find it, and the old man is not speaking lightly, then there is only one possibility: he stole it. That’s why he offers it as a condition—because he knows better than anyone you cannot produce it!”

“What?” The prince was incredulous. “Let alone the motive for stealing the seal, how could an elderly man, however skilled in martial arts, infiltrate the heavily guarded palace during mourning days, evade patrols, sneak into the imperial study, steal the seal, and escape undetected? That’s impossible. The patrols were tighter then than now.”

“What if he knows the palace like the back of his hand? What if he’s familiar with all guard patrol routes?”

“What? You found something?”

Xu produced a yellowed dossier. “This was sent to me by Taoist Kong Kongzi, tasked by Your Highness to investigate Guan Qinghuai thoroughly. He said that when the late emperor was alive, he stored key personal records at Qitian Daoist Temple. He had checked these when the seal was lost but found nothing. After we purged the late emperor’s guards, he thought the dossier useless and didn’t mention it again. Now with the Guan Qinghuai affair, he recalled it and sent it here urgently.”

“What does it say?” the prince asked, taking the dossier.

“Look here,” Xu opened to the first page and pointed to the bottom of the first guard’s profile. “There’s a character ‘Qing.’ Now look here,” he flipped to the second page, “also at the bottom, the character ‘Huai.’”

Xu flipped through more pages. “It’s either ‘Qing’ or ‘Huai.’ Kong Kongzi initially thought these were just names of two guard divisions. Now it seems wrong—‘Qing’ and ‘Huai’ together spell ‘Qinghuai.’”

“You mean this ‘Qinghuai’ refers to Guan Qinghuai?”

Xu nodded. “It reminded me of an incident once after accompanying the late emperor for a heavy drinking session.”

“What incident?”

“The late emperor was excited on the day he received his sixty-ninth longevity pill. Intoxicated, he ordered some shadow guards, who usually remained hidden, to appear and perform sword dances. I was there, brought in through my father-in-law. Among the officials present, I was the youngest and lowest rank, so I drank freely. I clearly remember the emperor introducing those guards as brothers-in-arms trained personally by the first guard commander, chosen from a thousand men.”

“The first guard commander?” The prince’s nerves tightened. “Investigate!”

“I have,” Xu said, producing an even more yellowed volume. “This is the earliest record of the Imperial Guards, but it only names the fourth commander.”

“What? Where are the earlier records?”

“The palace archives suffered a great fire over forty years ago, destroying many documents, including those about the Imperial Guards.”

The prince sighed, throwing the dossier on the floor. “If we can’t find anything, why show me this?”

Xu shook his head, bending down to retrieve it. “We can’t find specific information about the first commander, but in the records of one commander’s major events, I found clues. Look here. This is the sixth commander’s chronicle. See here? It mentions ‘Commander Guan.’”

The prince read aloud, “‘Commander Lian distinguished himself protecting the emperor during a secret visit. The emperor awarded the Lian family a death exemption token and invited the retired first commander, Commander Guan, to present it personally.’”

“Guan! Commander!” The prince clenched the dossier tightly.

Xu held up another volume. “Qing. Huai.”

“Guan Qinghuai was the first commander of the Imperial Guards!” The prince suddenly understood.

Xu added, “And the Lian family, who received the death exemption token, never again had a family member serve as commander, but every Lian descendant served in the Imperial Guards.”

The prince’s eyes lit up. “Which Lian descendant is this generation’s?”

“Lian Chengxi, a nameless soldier in the Imperial Guards, yet his unit patrols outside the second prince’s Jingde Hall.”

“Li Lingcheng! The servant who once impersonated Zhao Ke was named Axi.” Everything connected at last, leading back to the second prince’s camp. The prince suddenly recalled that when Li Lingcheng was shot yesterday, he had opened his eyes to speak but hesitated. If not for a second arrow knocking the first aside, Li Lingcheng might have used his knowledge of the seal’s whereabouts to save himself.

“Send men!” the prince shouted toward the hall’s entrance.

A guard captain entered to receive orders. “At once, Your Highness!”

“Quickly surround the Lian family for a secret purge. Except for Lian Chengxi, all others are to be executed on the spot!”

Xu whispered, “Your Highness, the matter of the seal must remain secret. With Commander Daichuan absent, I believe I should go personally.”

“Very well.” The prince’s reply was heavy.

Xu led the guards out.

Meanwhile, in the Lian residence, chaos reigned.

In the main hall, Axi knelt before his father, Lian Tangcheng. Unlike his usual stoic demeanor, his face was full of anxiety. “Father, I beg you, leave quickly. The longer you stay, the later it will be!”

Lian Tangcheng sat firmly like a mountain. “Explain everything to me first. I cannot abandon the family legacy handed down from our ancestors without understanding. Also, tell your brothers outside to cease their actions immediately. I won’t leave, and neither will anyone else!”

Axi took a few steps forward on his knees. “Father, this matter is too grave to explain now. But consider, have I ever done anything to disgrace our family over the years? Trust me—if you leave now, in no more than a month, once it’s over, I will confess everything willingly.”

“Disgrace the family? Ha! You still have the nerve to talk about honor!” Lian Tangcheng grew angrier. “You may not have disgraced us, but have you brought us honor? Our family has served in the Imperial Guards for generations; the highest rank was commander, the lowest a captain. And you? Enlisted at fourteen, ten years passed, and you remain a nobody! Your incompetence shames me before others. You want me to trust you? You haven’t done a single thing to earn my trust!”

Axi broke out in a sweat. “Father, please take a chance on me this once! I promise, after this is over, I will bring honor to our family!”

“No! If you don’t explain, I won’t leave!” Lian Tangcheng was steadfast.

At that moment, a voice called from outside: “Axi, what are you doing? Everyone, young and old, has mostly evacuated. Why are you and your father still inside? Hurry! If you wait any longer, it will be too late.”

Lian Tangcheng’s face darkened. He leapt up. “Who dares dismiss my family without my permission? Come out and fight me three hundred rounds first!”

Mu Zhijin stepped inside. Before he could say “Uncle Lian,” Lian Tangcheng interrupted.

“Mu Zhijin, head of Chu Guan Tower!” Lian Tangcheng’s anger was so fierce his hair stood on end. “Lian Chengxi! What shameful things have you done that he comes here? You—aren’t you still unmarried because of him? Because of...”

His mind swarmed with unspeakable rumors about Mu Zhijin.

Mu Zhijin froze at the doorway. Memories he wished to bury surged uncontrollably. He had always thought that for his ultimate goal, he was willing to assume countless guises, including the despised identity of a lowly servant. But now, unexpectedly exposed, he lost his usual carefree ease and felt unbearably ashamed, unsure where to place his hands and feet. Why was that?

Axi jumped up, blocking Lian Tangcheng. “Father, don’t say such things!”

He clung to his father, preventing him from attacking, then turned to comfort Mu Zhijin. “Zhijin, my father speaks without thinking. Please don’t mind. I will explain everything to him later.”

“Explain? What could you possibly explain? Why should I listen to you?” Lian Tangcheng roared, burning with rage. “If you have done anything to disgrace our ancestors, better explain it now, or else...”

Before he could finish, Zhang Sheng burst in. “Master, the Imperial Guards have turned the corner.”

Mu Zhijin quickly composed himself. “Leave now!”

“Father—”

“No! I insist—”

Bang! Lian Tangcheng was struck unconscious by a palm to the neck from Mu Zhijin before he could finish.

Axi stared in shock. “How dare you...”

Mu Zhijin glared. “Will you leave or not? If not, stay.”

“I... fine. But when my father wakes, you must explain to him that you struck him, not me,” Axi said, then carried his father toward the back door.

Zhang Sheng asked Mu Zhijin, “Master, it’s just us left.”

Mu Zhijin listened to the approaching footsteps near the front alley. “They came too quickly. Someone must delay them so you can escape farther and safer. You must leave now; I will hold them off.”

“Master!”

“That’s an order!”

“Yes!”

As Zhang Sheng disappeared beyond the courtyard wall, the main gate burst open.

Mu Zhijin turned, adjusted his headband, and tugged at his collar.

Turning back, a tall, imposing figure entered the courtyard—Minister of Rites Xu Zhenglin.

Mu Zhijin paused, then smiled charmingly.

“Father, I hope you are well.”

–––––
Side Note:
Thanks so much to my dear (stinky egg, haha) for the floral encouragement, muamua~
The plot holes I planted earlier can finally be closed—such excitement, such inexplicable thrill...