At the East Pavilion of Chiyin Lake, two young gentlemen sat opposite each other. From a distance, they looked like a pair of harmonious friends enjoying a stroll together.
It was the height of June, and the silk-tree flowers along the shore were blooming in thick, exquisite clusters. Layers of rosy mist seemed to wrap around the trees, their red blossoms fluttering like crimson flames dancing in the wind, passionate and vivid. They also resembled bursts of blood-mist, captivating and soul-stirring—flowers nourished by the lake’s legendary waters, which were said to have once been filled with blood, leaving them with a hauntingly deep hue.
Xie Yusong looked at the man across from him and smiled. "I didn't expect to run into you here, Su Jinzhou."
The young man opposite him was dressed in cyan robes. His raven hair was pinned up with an ebony hairpin, with half of it falling naturally down his back. His features were cold and aloof, reminiscent of green bamboo in the snow—resilient, elegant, and carrying an inherent chill.
Beneath his high-bridged nose, his thin lips slowly curled into a faint arc. "If you hadn't come over, we could have easily pretended we never saw each other."
His voice was soft and his tone refined. Yet, upon closer listening, one would find the pitch cold and sharp, like tiny icy needles pricking the heart—not painful, yet lingering. There was also a trace of imperceptible weariness, making that smile look more like a sneer.
"We are old friends, after all. It is only natural to come say hello when we meet," Xie Yusong said.
"To see that I am still alive and well, and then find it unbearable? Are you already wondering what schemes to use to eliminate me next time?"
With just two sentences, the warm illusion of a reunion between old friends was shattered.
Xie Yusong sighed softly, his gaze toward Su Jinzhou turning gentle yet helpless. "Though we serve different masters, there is no need for such hostility."
The current Emperor was over forty and had only four sons. The Third Prince was a fool, and the Fourth Prince was still a child. Only the Crown Prince and Prince Rong held significant influence in the court, and their struggle for the throne had become as incompatible as fire and water.
The Xie family was a century-old noble house of the State of Wei and had long been part of the Crown Prince’s faction; Xie Yusong himself was a close confidant of the Crown Prince. Su Jinzhou, meanwhile, came from a humble background but had been recruited and heavily relied upon by Prince Rong due to his extraordinary scholarship.
Su Jinzhou fixed a sharp gaze on Xie Yusong and said coldly, "Why bother pretending in front of me? No one else would believe that the world-renowned 'Young Master Yusong' is nothing but a hypocrite—no one except me."
Indeed, only him. He had personally experienced that malice, and it was forever etched into his heart.
Xie Yusong did not seem angry at being called such a name. His gentleness and courtesy seemed carved into his very bones, manifesting in every drop of expression on his handsome, soft face.
"Yes, only you..." His voice was extremely light. His beautiful eyes held a bright and warm color, yet his words sounded like an admission.
An admission of what?
That in Su Jinzhou’s heart, his image as a hypocrite could likely never be changed?
Su Jinzhou watched him for a moment, let out a scoff, and turned his gaze toward the pleasure boats on the distant lake. Suddenly, he said, "You should know about the assassination attempt on the old Chancellor Pei."
"I know."
"Then guess when Pei Yunting will return?"
At the mention of that name, the smile at the corner of Xie Yusong's mouth faltered. His pale eyes reflected the image of the man opposite him, whose cherry-red lips continued to move: "Once Pei Yunting returns, I'm afraid Princess Xiyue will no longer have time to accompany you on lake excursions."
"After all..." Su Jinzhou paused. "After all, compared to a mere friend, a sweetheart is far more important. Is he not?"
He smiled, his expression becoming more vivid and strikingly beautiful.
Pei Yunting—the only son of the old Chancellor Pei. A favored child of heaven, he was the top talent who overshadowed all others in the capital. Some even called him the second "Young Master Tianshu" of this generation. His reputation was so high that no one could surpass him.
Now that the old Chancellor had met with misfortune, Pei Yunting, who was away on a study tour, would surely return.
A brief silence followed, though it felt like a long time had passed. Xie Yusong slowly exhaled. "Those who are meant to return will return sooner or later."
The words sounded almost like 'those who are meant to die will die sooner or later'—flat to the point of indifference.
The smile had vanished from his face. Only now was it apparent that when he did not smile, those eyes—usually so full of warmth—were dark and deep, somewhat gloomy, as if veiled by a cold, somber shadow.
No, perhaps this was their truest form.
Seeing him drop the act, Su Jinzhou sneered. "What? Can't keep up the facade? Every day you watch the people around you react with joy, respect, trust, and even adoration toward your fake kindness; you must find it hilarious, don't you? Because all of them are fools being played in the palm of your hand? Hmm?"
Looking at the malicious, sanctimonious man before him, the loathing in Su Jinzhou's heart nearly overflowed.
Truly... hideous.
"Unfortunately, no matter how perfectly you pretend, you will never compare to Pei Yunting." These words seemed to strike a nerve. Xie Yusong’s gaze toward Su Jinzhou turned so cold it could draw blood, and his hand hidden in his robe tightened for an instant.
His expression remained calm as he spoke evenly, "Though we both reside in the capital, it has been a long time since we last met. I didn't expect that you would still be so lacking in tact and awareness of your place. So what if you've joined Prince Rong? He is merely a Prince, not even the Heir Apparent. You are still a long way from truly making a name for yourself."
"Heh..."
Seeing Su Jinzhou's face gradually change, Xie Yusong chuckled. He showed no fear of the bone-chilling cold in the other man's eyes. His voice, warm and mellow like a spring breeze, rang in Su Jinzhou's ear, though it carried a hidden frost.
"Su Jinzhou, you... just keep exhausting yourself trying to climb upward."
It was as if he were looking at a lowly ant, watching it struggle desperately to move forward. In his eyes, it was nothing more than a trivial amusement that made him laugh...
Su Jinzhou’s face turned ashen. His fingers trembled uncontrollably before he clenched them into tight fists, restraining the monstrous rage boiling within him.
After a long while, he replied with equal deliberation, "So what if he is the Heir Apparent? Until this road reaches its end, the 'merit of following the dragon' you desire remains nothing but air. It is not impossible for a latecomer to take the lead. You should know that well—is the current Emperor not a living example, Xie Yusong?"
Su Jinzhou sneered. "If I succeed in making a name for myself, it will be a leap over the dragon's gate, a meteoric rise. But you? Your Xie family has bet everything on the Crown Prince. Even if you take another step forward, it is merely adding flowers to a brocade. The position of Chancellor in Wei has been vacant for many years; I wonder if anyone from your Xie family will ever be honored with that seat?"
"But you'd better hurry. After all, the Pei family has already produced one world-renowned Chancellor. Who knows if they will produce a second? That seat is held firmly in the Emperor's hand."
Even the Duke of Mingde, who held immense power in the court, was constantly suppressed by that vacant seat above him, unable to ever cross that threshold.
This was the Xie family's greatest sore spot.
The Xie family was a prestigious house of a hundred years, yet in the last century, only Xie Yusong's father had been titled a Duke, while the title of Chancellor remained elusive.
Who knew what was truly in the Emperor's heart?
Xie Yusong stared intently at Su Jinzhou, his face terrifyingly grim. He said in a low voice, "I won't trouble you to worry about it."
With that, he stood up and walked away. The two parted on bad terms.
Su Jinzhou looked out over the lake, and his mind couldn't help but recall what he had seen earlier. Xie Yusong had actually taken the initiative to approach a dandy?
If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed it.
The only people around Xie Yusong were those who were useful to him. If he took the initiative to get close to someone, it was undoubtedly because he felt there was something to be gained.
But Ye Zhao was just a profligate son. Why would he catch Xie Yusong's attention?
Su Jinzhou kept this question in the back of his mind.
***
Ye Zhao didn't know he had been noted by yet another person. He had just won another "battle" with his companion.
Jiang Ziqi slung an arm around him as they walked out of the alleyway, taking a deep breath of fresh air.
"Refreshing!"
Behind them, Zhang Zuyao and his two lackeys lay on the ground, groaning in pain.
Jiang Ziqi looked up at the blue sky and white clouds, feeling a sense of carefree liberation. He went to pull out his fan to cool himself, but his hand met empty air at his waist. He fumbled through both sleeves and finally looked at Ye Zhao.
"..."
Ye Zhao: "?"
"What are you looking for?"
As they stared at each other, Jiang Ziqi gave a dry laugh, racking his brain to remember when he had last seen Ye Zhao's precious fan.
It might have been left on the pleasure boat, or perhaps the small boat. Or maybe, during the scuffle on the lake, it had fallen into the water.
Seeing Ye Zhao's suspicious gaze, he blurted out, "Ye Zhao, I just remembered I have something urgent at home. See ya!"
He bolted instantly, leaving Ye Zhao standing there in a daze. "What's the rush? Did he forget something his father told him to do again?"
He didn't suspect the real reason at first. It was only after a moment that he suddenly remembered his fan was still with Jiang Ziqi. Recalling the other's movements just now, the truth dawned on him.
He lost the fan and dared to run?!
Ye Zhao aggressively took a shortcut to chase after Jiang Ziqi. Having lived in the capital for over a decade, he knew these streets and alleys like the back of his hand; he could find his way with his eyes closed.
In the narrow alleyway, the shadows cast by the high walls stretched deep into the distance. The further in he went, the dimmer the light became, like a path leading into an abyss. The surroundings were silent.
A figure stumbled along, leaning against the wall for support. Suddenly, the person stopped and ducked into a gap between two walls, completely suppressing their breath.
Someone was coming.
Ye Zhao was walking briskly, feeling both regretful and angry. As he rounded a corner, he stopped abruptly, then slowly backed up a step. He leaned in to stare at a spot on the wall, reached out to touch it, and sniffed his finger. "Is this actually blood?"
He had guessed right, but he felt no joy. He pulled a handkerchief from his robe with a look of disgust and wiped his finger. "Ugh... who's so inconsiderate as to leave bloody handprints on the wall!"
In the windless, silent alley, this sudden voice was jarringly out of place.
In the darkness, someone's gaze instantly sharpened, and their hand slowly moved toward their waist.
Ye Zhao was about to continue his pursuit of Jiang Ziqi when he noticed more bloodstains on the wall just a few paces ahead. They stopped there, right before a gap between the walls that was just wide enough for a person to hide in.
Only then did a belated sense of caution kick in. Ye Zhao stood there, his mind racing. *Is someone injured and hiding there?*
*I wonder if they've left yet?*
He stared at the gap between the walls, unconsciously holding his breath. He looked back at the way he had come, his heart thumping. *Should I just go back the way I came?*
Just as he was thinking this, a flash of cold light appeared. A figure in black suddenly lunged out at Ye Zhao.
"Holy crap!" The words escaped Ye Zhao's lips as he instinctively dodged to the side. His back slammed into the wall, but before he could even feel the pain, a gleaming dagger followed close behind.
Ye Zhao grabbed the attacker's wrist tightly. The tip of the blade stopped an inch from his chest, slowly inching forward. The person possessed immense strength, and Ye Zhao struggled to hold them back. The two were locked in a stalemate for barely two seconds when Ye Zhao felt the strength of the person in front of him suddenly vanish. Seizing the chance, he gave a violent shove and bolted toward the exit.
"Lord... Lord Tianshu..."
The weak words sounded strained, trembling as they drifted from the attacker's mouth. The owner of the voice stood frozen like a statue. In the eyes visible through the mask, there was an irrepressible shock and disbelief, along with... a fear buried deep under the weight of many years.
He couldn't have misidentified him. It was impossible!
That face... was exactly the same as the one in his memories!
Ye Zhao ran with all his might toward the main street, not daring to look back. Finally seeing people, his eyes lit up, and he screamed, "Help! Murder! Help me!!"
"Someone, help!!"
People heard the commotion and looked toward the alley in confusion, beginning to whisper.
Naturally, the Yulin Guards following him in secret heard it too.
Thus, as Ye Zhao finally burst out of the alley, the first person he saw was Wei Feng.
Ye Zhao froze. The scares were coming one after another...
Wei Feng used two fingers to pick up a handkerchief from the ground. He turned and asked, "Yours?"
Ye Zhao nodded, still shaken, and tentatively reached out to take it. "Yes, yes, it's mine."
Wei Feng and his men returned to the scene of the incident. They carefully examined the area; there weren't many traces left, but it was enough for Wei Feng to discern a few things.
He stood up from the corner where the person had been hiding. "Did you see what they looked like?"
"No. They were in black night-traveler clothes, masked, with only their eyes showing."
Wei Feng didn't speak, appearing lost in thought. A Yulin Guard beside him asked, "Do you have any enemies?"
"No, it wasn't a vendetta." As for whether he had enemies, Ye Zhao felt he didn't, but that didn't mean people wouldn't want to kill him.
However, he was certain that wasn't the reason this time.
He rolled his shoulder and added, "I was just unlucky. I happened to stumble upon him."
Wei Feng looked at a scratch on the wall. Hearing this, he said, "You were indeed unlucky. You walked in on someone hiding here. He wanted to kill you, but you escaped a disaster."
Ye Zhao felt a lingering fear. "You're right."
But immediately after, the man who had been staring at him strangely suddenly exerted force, pinning him against the wall with one arm so he couldn't move.
"Sss—" Ye Zhao's face instantly crumpled. With the new injury on top of the old one, the pain made him gasp. Wei Feng, however, suddenly grabbed his wrist.
"Commander Wei, you..."
After sensing the pulse under his fingers, Wei Feng released him and said coolly, "You may go."
With that, he walked straight into the depths of the alley. The other Yulin Guard followed.
Ye Zhao hunched over, leaning against the wall for support, and grumbled inwardly, *What a lunatic.*
Not daring to linger, he walked off in the opposite direction.
Inside the dim, labyrinthine alley, Wei Feng spoke without looking back to the man following him: "Have someone keep a close eye on Ye Zhao."
"Eh?" The man was startled but replied, "Yes, sir." He then turned back.
Wei Feng had a hunch. The person Ye Zhao encountered was the assassin leader who had escaped from Mount Bushi. Judging by that deep scratch on the wall, he had indeed intended to take Ye Zhao's life.
That man was a master of martial arts, while Ye Zhao knew none. Killing him should have been as easy as flipping a hand. Yet, at the final moment, he had let him go. Why?
What had changed his mind?
A moment of carelessness? A lack of strength?
Even so, he still possessed the ability to kill Ye Zhao.
There was no third person present; no external factors existed.
The reason could only lie with Ye Zhao himself...
In the dim and narrow alleyway, Wei Feng pondered silently.
He stepped through a puddle, the dirty mud staining his clean black boots. He didn't care in the slightest, continuing to walk, relying on his hound-like intuition to move unhurriedly through the shadows, searching for his escaped prey.
One day, he would catch the person behind the scenes. When that time came, everything would be clear.
***
