At the Prince Fulu Estate, Lian Kang entered to deliver a message. "Lord Ninth, the Princess Consort sent word that she has some matters to attend to today and will return late."
Shen Tingjiao gave a slight, indifferent nod. By evening, a man had actually managed to sneak in from the palace. He seemed quite familiar with the estate, heading straight to the study to find Shen Tingjiao. His voice was stern. "If you leave the capital, what will become of your mother?"
Shen Tingjiao did not seem surprised to see him. The fragility had completely vanished from his expression; his eyes shone with a brilliant light, and beneath his graceful, smiling gaze lay a hint of lethal intent. "My mother can only be left to you, of course. What else could be done?"
The man seemed agitated, his voice carrying a tone of reprimand. "You... if you leave Chang'an, the King will surely blame your mother. As a son, would you abandon your own mother just for a throne?! Do you have no concept of filial piety?"
The young Prince traced an invisible line on the broad desk with his index finger. A smile rippled across his face like a breeze over clear water. "My apologies. This Prince grew up without discipline or upbringing; I know not what 'piety' is. I have made the State Uncle laugh at my expense."
The visitor choked on his words, then flared up in rage. "Shen Tingjiao, no matter what, I, Fu, will never allow you to leave Chang'an by even a single step!"
Shen Tingjiao’s expression remained detached, showing neither joy nor anger. "If the State Uncle truly does not wish for this Prince to leave, you could simply take my head right now and present it to my Royal Brother. If you miss this opportunity, General Qu’s army will be formidable. How will the State Uncle hope to detain me from amidst ten thousand soldiers?"
The man’s hands clenched into tight fists. Shen Tingjiao rose; that night, he wore a thin, frost-colored robe. His frame was slender yet upright. His voice carried a smile—gentle and soft, yet laced with a touch of mockery. "I truly do not understand. What is the difference between the Grand Emperor, the State Uncle, and you? Father, have you seen Qu Tianji’s ultimate fate?"
The man froze. Shen Tingjiao pressed his hands onto the man's shoulders. "Of course, this Prince is different from the Princess Consort. At the very least, there is no blood feud for a murdered mother between my father and me." He had inherited eighty percent of Consort He’s beauty, supplemented by twenty percent of masculine spirit. When he smiled like this, he truly possessed the grace of a celestial being. "The Princess Consort likely already knows of our relationship. Regarding this departure from Chang'an, she made no mention of how to settle my mother. Father, if I stay in the capital, my Royal Brother will certainly not let me go. Thus, I must leave. As for my mother... haha, I leave her in your hands, Father."
***
Yin Zhuli was dining with Tang Yin. Tang Yin preferred light, delicate dishes, whereas Yin Zhuli was a creature who could not live without meat; consequently, the main kitchen had not forgotten to cater to her tastes. Tang Yin continued to place food in her bowl, his words filled with concern. "After we leave, how will your mother be settled?"
Since he had finally relented, Yin Zhuli was filled with joy and answered in detail. "It is known to all in Chang'an that my mother and I are at odds. If I leave, Shen Tianyao will surely use her to reclaim control over the Yin family’s affairs. Regardless of victory or defeat, the Yin family will at least be spared the calamity of total extermination."
Tang Yin nodded, placing a piece of Zhaojun Chicken onto her plate. "But if Prince Fulu truly ascends the throne, will he be able to tolerate the Yin family?"
Yin Zhuli hesitated slightly, then laughed it off. "Nothing in this world is absolute. However, if we succeed, the Great Ying will be impoverished for at least another twenty years. Even if he wanted to move against the Yin family, he would have reservations. And even if we fail, Shen Tianyao exhausting the nation's strength to suppress General Qu will inevitably empty the treasury again. That alone is enough to buy the Yin family twenty years of peace and security."
Tang Yin sighed. "You have calculated everything thoroughly. But if you fail, who will protect your life?"
Yin Zhuli rose to pour tea for him, her voice light with a smile. "Since it is a grand gamble, why fear winning or losing? Besides, if I had no certainty at all, I would never act as the dealer. If my estimations are correct, perhaps..." She paused for a moment, speaking cryptically, "Perhaps General Qu’s army won't even be needed."
Tang Yin was slightly stunned, then shook his head. "Your master is getting old; I cannot see through your convoluted schemes. But once we leave, won't Consort He be in danger?"
Yin Zhuli shook her head. "Consort He... haha, who told her to mistreat our Lord Ninth? I have no desire to concern myself with her life or death."
The meal lasted until the Hour of the Dog. Yin Zhuli ordered Nuan Yu to pack Tang Yin’s luggage and dispatched Tan Yue to the Qu Estate to inform Qu Tianji of their agreement to depart Chang'an the following day. Having finalized this, Yin Zhuli was in high spirits. However, being a cautious person, she would not allow any further variables to arise. "Master, let us play a game of Go through the night. You can also take the opportunity to test your disciple’s skill."
Tang Yin smiled. "We are leaving the Yin family tomorrow. If you have the leisure to play Go with me, why not go to the Yin Ancestral Hall to pay your respects one last time?"
At these words, Yin Zhuli’s face filled with a look of agony. "I hate kneeling in the ancestral hall!"
Tang Yin stroked her head, his expression full of affection. "Master promises, it is the last night."
Yin Zhuli looked dejected. "Though I hate it, if Master asks, I would kneel until I wore a hole through the floor."
That was the first time Yin Zhuli had bathed and burned incense with such solemnity. The Yin family had been wealthy magnates for seven generations; having been rich for so long, they had far more ancestors than other families. She had lost her mother on the day she was born, and she had never even met the vast majority of the people represented by these tablets. Truly, she felt little connection to them.
Nevertheless, her expression remained extremely grave. "Ancestors, I don't even want to ask for your protection for myself. However, my mother has always treated you well, and she has never lacked in offerings of incense. This departure will last for several months. If you have spirits in heaven, please use your influence to protect my mother’s health, safety, and longevity."
She did not dare speak aloud, fearing Tang Yin would hear and punish her again. Tang Yin stood before the spirits, his gaze fixed upon the tablet of Yin Biwu, lost in thought.
Yin Zhuli was well-practiced in kneeling before these tablets. She couldn't help but sigh. "Although I am not as filial as my mother, if we are talking about the sheer amount of time spent kneeling, I'm afraid none of the ancestors in this hall can match me."
Tang Yin couldn't help but chuckle at her words. "Glittering tongue. Of all the Yin ancestors, which one was as mischievous as you?"
Yin Zhuli leaned toward him affectionately, her tone full of pride. "With the ancestors above as witnesses, I dare not take sole credit for being mischievous. This is all thanks to my Master’s excellent teaching!"
Tang Yin tapped her head with his Biluo Steps, his voice helpless. "Just kneel properly. Too many words!"
Yin Zhuli didn't dare be flippant anymore. She hurriedly straightened her back and knelt upright. When Tang Yin stepped back slightly, she couldn't help but look back. "Master?"
Tang Yin exited the ancestral hall and climbed onto the roof. The sound of a flute began to rise, rippling through the vast, quiet night. It seemed to be stained with poetry, softening the darkness. Yin Zhuli felt a sense of peace in her heart. She looked up at the tablets on the altar; the name *Yin Biwu* was carved in official script, upright and solemn.
She actually had no memory of this person at all. Her only connection was that she never celebrated her birthday—because her birthday was this person’s death anniversary.
Seeing no one around, she reached out to trace the characters on the tablet. The flute music on the roof did not stop. Tang Yin sat upon the tiles, which looked ash-gray in the night. His gaze traveled over the boundless horizon.
*"Tang Yin, Mengyuan has a biased temperament, and Zichuan is utterly unreliable. If this child stays in the Yin family, she will surely suffer. Haha, when it comes down to it, I have no one else to entrust her to. I can only trouble you to look after her for me."* Back then, Yin Zhuli was so small, yet she hadn't cried much since birth. She was quiet and still when held. Yin Biwu’s voice had been weak, yet it still carried a multifaceted, unshakeable indifference. *"The reason I entrust her to you is with only one requirement, Tang Yin: do not seek revenge. Not for her, and not for yourself. You must change that impulsive nature of yours."*
How had he answered back then? He couldn't quite remember. He only remembered that person smiling as she teased the infant in her arms. *"Poor thing. Let me stay alone with her for a while, Tang Yin. Thinking back, as a mother, I am truly ashamed."*
The flute music gradually stopped. Yin Zhuli looked up. "Master?"
Tang Yin’s voice was deep and mellow. "Hmm?"
"Why did you stop?"
"You have listened to your Master’s flute for so long. Tonight, why don't you play for me?"
"This... isn't good, is it? What if the ancestors think I'm celebrating their deaths?"
Laughter drifted down from the roof, clear and bright like the moonlight washing over the stream-side pavilion. Yin Zhuli took the short flute from her waist, placed it to her lips, and played the tune *Plum Blossom Melodies*. At first, Tang Yin joined in intermittently, then he simply listened in silence.
When the darkness faded and the September dawn filtered through the window lattices, golden light splashed across the polished floor. The birds in their nests were startled awake by the brilliant morning, chirping as they flew out to forage. Yin Zhuli gradually stopped her flute. "Master, it is time for us to depart."
There was no response from the roof for a long time. She stood up abruptly. Having knelt for too long, her knees were stiff, but she ignored the pain and rushed out of the ancestral hall. The sunlight dazzled her eyes, turning everything into a blur of gold. The roof was empty.
She rushed into the Guilai Residence, but no one knew where Tang Yin had gone. Hao Jian had never seen her look so terrifying. He could only try to comfort her in a low voice. "The Master might have left ahead of us. Please remain calm, Chief. I will send men to search immediately."
Ignoring him, Yin Zhuli burst into Tang Yin’s room. Nuan Yu had already prepared his luggage, but he had taken nothing.
Suddenly, a thought struck her, and her face turned deathly pale. "Prepare a horse! Prepare a horse immediately!!"
The servants didn't know what had happened. She took her horse, Old Third, and galloped desperately toward General Qu’s estate. It turned out that a September morning could be this cold; though the sunlight was brilliant, it offered not a shred of warmth.
***
In the morning, Shen Tingjiao was also startled awake by He Jian. "Lord Ninth, General Qu has sent someone to request the Princess Consort’s presence. He says the Qu Estate executed an assassin last night."
"An assassin?" Shen Tingjiao was impatient. "Does he expect this Prince to guard the security of his Qu Estate as well?"
He Jian leaned in close, his expression grave. "I'm afraid Lord Ninth must make the trip. This assassin... is the Princess Consort’s teacher, Tang Yin."
Shen Tingjiao was struck with horror. "Tang Yin? Assassinating Qu Tianji? He... This is bad. If he isn't dead, Zhuli will surely turn against Qu Tianji!" Shen Tingjiao threw on his clothes and ran out barefoot. "Quickly, prepare a horse! Fast!"
He Jian ordered the servants to prepare the horse, then tried to soothe Shen Tingjiao. "Lord Ninth, if something has happened to him, the Princess Consort and General Qu might very well draw swords against each other! We must prepare early!"
Shen Tingjiao shook his head. "No. A merchant is skilled at calculation. If it were a living Tang Yin, she would trade everything for him. If he is dead... she won't."
Yin Zhuli rode her horse directly to the gates of the Qu Estate. Without even waiting for the gatekeeper to open them, she vaulted over the wall. What met her eyes was Tang Yin. He lay quietly beneath the pavilion by the lotus pond. The blood beneath him snaked along the ground, a vivid, agonizing red.
She stopped in the courtyard. It was early autumn; the morning wind swirled the fallen leaves of the parasol trees, circling the trunk three times with no branch to rest upon. Somewhere within her, a hollow, blunt pain throbbed, and her vision turned crimson.
Qu Tianji and the others had been waiting for her for a long time. "Zhuli," he said, calling her by her name for the first time. "You've come at the right time. This man was likely a spy planted by Shen Tianyao at your side. Learning of our uprising today, he actually attempted an assassination. Why don't we use his head to consecrate the flag, to wish Lord Ninth a swift and total victory?"
A blunt blade seemed to saw through her heart, tearing through the flesh and blood of her memories. He had used this method to prove to her that Tang Yin... had never loved Yin Zhuli. Never.
He had smiled and said that a master is not a god; a master is merely a part of one's past, a memory.
*So, all the kindness you showed me in the past... none of it counts anymore?*
Under the gaze of the crowd, Yin Zhuli stepped forward, walking past the cold corpse. She heard her own voice, piercing through the thin sunlight with a light, breezy smile. She said softly, "Very well."
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 傅国舅 | State Uncle Fu | The brother of the Empress/Consort, revealed to be Shen Tingjiao's biological father. |
| 昭君鸡 | Zhaojun Chicken | A traditional Chinese dish named after Wang Zhaojun. |
| 碧落阶 | Biluo Steps | The name of Tang Yin's jade flute/weapon. |
| 梅花引 | Plum Blossom Melodies | A classic flute/guqin composition. |
| 祭旗 | Consecrate the flag | A ritual sacrifice (often human or animal) to ensure victory before a battle. |
| 老三 | Old Third | The name of Yin Zhuli's horse. |
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