Liu Caiwu’s words reverberated like distant thunder. Qin Jiuye felt a flash of lightning sear through her mind, her senses only registering the sound a moment later.
Of all the countless theories she had entertained regarding Qin Sanyou’s past, she had never once considered this. The tension holding her upright seemed to vanish in an instant; her body went limp for a heartbeat before she slowly reached out to steady herself against the table.
“It seems you truly didn't know.”
Liu Caiwu loosened her grip, and the wooden tag finally fell back into Qin Jiuye’s hand. The girl clutched it for a long time before she managed to speak with difficulty.
“Setting aside whether this tag truly belonged to my grandfather... there is no specific information left on it. How can you be so certain its owner was a deserter?”
“The Xiangliang military code is absolute. Every recruit is issued a waist tag as proof of identity; it must be kept on one's person and never lost. Upon discharge or retirement, it is surrendered along with one's weapons. Any violation is met with military law. When the Black Moon was struck from the records and disbanded, the late Emperor’s personal attendant traveled from the capital to oversee the entire process. Thousands of returned tags were burned in a pit that very day; no one could have kept one. The only way your grandfather could have retained this tag is if he left the camp without permission before the Battle of Juchao ended. If that isn't desertion, what is?”
A thousand words surged into Qin Jiuye’s throat, but not one could find its way out.
She wanted to say that no one valued the bonds of brotherhood more than Qin Sanyou. If he didn't, he wouldn't have moved to Suiqing to silently care for Aunt Yang and her son for all those years, enduring the village gossip and the cold eyes of the Situ family.
She wanted to say that her grandfather had labored hard for half his life, possessing a stubborn pride in his very bones. Even at the end, when his legs were failing him, he refused to live in idleness, insisting on rowing his boat to deliver vegetables for others.
She wanted to say that many people and events in her life had taught her that being too honest or too upright only led to suffering—yet Qin Sanyou had always taught her to live with integrity, to ensure that every action could face her own conscience.
How could such a man become a traitor to his comrades out of a moment’s cowardice?
Yet, as she hurled these silent defenses against her own heart, the confusion that had long stifled her suddenly cleared. The conversations that always cut short, the inexplicably heavy silhouette of Qin Sanyou’s back as he rowed away, and the unreadable expressions he wore in fleeting moments—all of it finally had an answer.
The reason Qin Sanyou had exhausted himself to care for Aunt Yang’s family was because of the crushing guilt he felt toward the comrades he had abandoned. The reason he constantly spoke of his time in the ranks and held himself to military standards—even sharing rumors about the Black Moon—was because he desperately missed those youthful days. The reason he had been so hesitant and fearful when she grew closer to the Qiu family was because he knew from the start what weight the Qius carried. And the reason he always emphasized the phrase "a clear conscience" was because his own conscience was anything but clear.
“But... but he never told me. I was his only family. Why... why did he never say anything?”
Qin Jiuye’s voice trailed off. She knew these questions were hollow and powerless. Even if Qin Sanyou stood before her now, he likely still wouldn't answer.
“People always avoid the mistakes of their past. It is only natural that he could not bring himself to speak of these old matters to you.”
Liu Caiwu’s voice remained flat, betraying no hint of suppressed rage.
After a long silence, Qin Jiuye slowly sat back down at the table. She poured two cups of tea, one for the manager and one for herself, and downed hers in a single gulp.
“Since you sought me out, Manager Liu, you must know something. Why don't you say everything you have to say at once?”
Instead of answering, Liu Caiwu asked a question of her own.
“Miss Qin, you came to the manor today to find the Second Young Master. Is it because you wish to continue investigating that secret formula?”
Qin Jiuye stiffened and did not immediately respond.
She had assumed that the two managers and Jiang Xin’er were trusted confidants of the Qiu family, but she hadn't realized that this matter was no longer a secret to any of them.
“You needn't worry,” Liu Caiwu said bluntly, cutting straight to the point. “You should have already seen that letter cylinder at the shipyard. I was the one who personally recovered the cylinder currently in the Second Young Master’s possession.”
Qin Jiuye was stunned, but she quickly asked, “Are you also a former member of the Black Moon?”
The moment the question left her lips, she already knew the answer was no.
From their first meeting, she had sensed a dangerous aura about this woman, one that was deliberately restrained. It was a contradictory feeling she had never sensed from Qiu Ling or the young officers around him, but she had felt something similar from Zhu Fuxue.
“I am merely an old acquaintance of the General’s wife. You need not know the rest.” Liu Caiwu lowered her gaze, her eyes sweeping over the military tag. “Though the specific details have been scraped off this tag, the color and patterns are still visible. It is the design used by messengers. Those appointed as messengers in the Black Moon camp might not have been warriors capable of taking on a hundred men alone, but without exception, they were battle-hardened veterans. Beyond extraordinary endurance, they had to be able to navigate treacherous terrain and travel thousands of miles alone. A messenger under the central command was a one-in-a-hundred talent. When the Black Moon was trapped in Juchao, their supplies exhausted, the General chose two messengers to undertake a desperate mission to deliver a message beyond the mountains. But the news of reinforcements never came.”
“At the Lady’s request, I went alone to investigate. I discovered that shortly after the two set out, they crossed a stretch of dangerous rapids. One of them encountered trouble while crossing—perhaps he lost the letter cylinder—and used the excuse of retrieving it to head downstream alone. The other continued forward through the deep mountains. Just as he was about to exit the range, he was trapped on the only ferry boat with refugees from Juchao, only to be slaughtered by a martial arts master on board who had succumbed to a violent illness.”
“By the time I found them, Wen Dimu had already thrown all the corpses into a mass grave. Rain and backflowing river water had half-submerged the pit; over a hundred bodies were rotting into a single mass. It took me a day and a night to clear the remains and find that messenger’s body and the cylinder. In his final moments, he had shielded the cylinder tightly against his chest; his broken arms never let go, even in death. Perhaps he still hoped his comrade would find the cylinder and deliver the message. Unfortunately, no one heard his prayer, and the comrade who had traveled with him never returned.”
“Until the very end, the General never told anyone the name of the messenger who fled. He firmly believed that the man had simply perished in the floods rather than fleeing out of cowardice. I wonder what he would think if he knew that messenger had been alive all this time.”
Liu Caiwu’s narration came to an abrupt halt, but Qin Jiuye’s cold fingertips continued to tremble.
*Heavens, is this the retribution you decreed? Because years ago, Qin Sanyou used that catastrophic flood as an excuse to abandon his comrades and flee the battlefield of Juchao, you saw fit to let him drown in a cold river years later.*
She subconsciously rubbed the wooden tag in her hand. It was polished smooth from being kept close to her body day and night. Before her eyes flashed Old Qin’s face, ravaged by hardship, and his perpetually silent back.
*So, Grandfather... was this your secret? Is this the real reason you treated suffering as the entirety of your life?*
Instinctively, she wanted to argue for him. She wanted to say that ordinary people are small and powerless in the face of life and death, and that Qin Sanyou hadn't lived well these past years—he had lived every day in torment. How could such a monumental sin be blamed on one man alone?
But the words died in her throat.
If Qin Sanyou truly was the messenger who fled out of cowardice, what right did she have to make excuses on behalf of the Black Moon soldiers who died in vain? Though her heart was loath to admit it, she already believed it. She believed that Qin Sanyou had a tarnished past, and that she herself might have come from a distant, ill-omened place.
Her head hung low, her mouth only able to murmur about the Qin Sanyou she knew, trying to keep his image clear and fixed in her memories.
“My grandfather... wasn't that kind of person. If he were truly a selfish deserter who only cared for his own life, he wouldn't have picked me up. He wouldn't have exhausted himself to take me to Suiqing and raise me to adulthood.”
A deserter, barely able to save himself—why would he save a two or three-year-old child while fleeing for his life?
Even now, for a poor family, adopting an infant and raising them was no easy feat. She wanted to believe that the Qin Sanyou in her memory was the real Qin Sanyou, and that the bond between them, which transcended blood, was real.
However, Liu Caiwu seemed to read her thoughts. After a moment of silence, she spoke.
“Who knows? There are few truly saintly or truly evil people in this world; most are merely mediocre souls. Perhaps the reason he saved you was precisely because he knew he had committed an unforgivable act, and he thought he had to do something to make amends.”
And her existence was merely a form of penance for his lifelong guilt.
Liu Caiwu did not say it explicitly, but Qin Jiuye understood the implication. Long ago, she had agonized over this very question.
Back then, her younger self hadn't truly wanted to ask Qin Sanyou if she was his biological grandchild. Subconsciously, she had wanted to confirm if his kindness toward her was unconditional. She had heard that the love of biological parents was without regret or demand for return. If Qin Sanyou wasn't her real grandfather, why was he so good to her? Was this kindness conditional, and would it one day come to an end?
These painful thoughts took root in her heart, and Qin Jiuye knew she wouldn't be able to shake them off anytime soon.
“Do the General and the Second Young Master... already know?”
She spoke with difficulty, unable to finish the sentence, but Liu Caiwu picked up the thread.
“The Second Young Master knows something of the desertion, but he did not know it was Qin Sanyou. Two years ago, the General’s illness first began to show. You are a physician; you should be able to see that whether it is his headaches or his dementia, they are likely the roots planted when he traversed the toxic miasma of Juchao years ago. Once the illness manifests, there is no cure; one can only watch as the body deteriorates day by day. The Second Young Master refused to accept this. He believes that since everything has a cause and effect, to change the result, one must start with the cause. While the General was bedridden, he took the keys to the inner courtyard and spent three months organizing the old belongings the General had sealed away for years. Among them was that letter cylinder.”
Qin Jiuye’s eyes flickered as she realized something.
“Are you saying... the matter of the cylinder, including the truth behind the fall of Juchao—the General actually sensed it back then, but he suppressed it and didn't report it?”
Qiu Yan was a career soldier, but a commander who could remain undefeated must have a sharp mind and keen intuition. The moment he saw the cylinder, he must have known that Wen Dimu was hiding something from him. This was likely the turning point that caused the Four Gentlemen of the Black Moon to fracture. So why was everything sealed away until now? Was it because by the time the cylinder was found, everything was already settled?
“How the General thought or what he decided, I do not know. I am only telling you the facts so you don't think I am speaking nonsense or trying to pin a baseless crime on your grandfather.”
The Qiu family’s affairs had passed many years ago, and Qin Sanyou was but a lowly messenger. Qin Jiuye didn't think the other woman would gain anything from "framing" a village girl like her.
But sometimes, even when faced with the truth, people subconsciously pick and choose the parts they want to believe, ignoring other equally important matters.
The Black Moon had been trapped in the deep mountains of Juchao; the situation was unpredictable. But how could the person deploying the troops not know the dangers of entering the mountains during the rainy season and failing to take the objective? Was Qiu Yan’s silence a form of compromise? That undelivered cylinder might have simply followed the general trend of the world—the final drop of rain before the dam burst.
Seeing her prolonged silence, Liu Caiwu’s expression gradually grew cold. She stood up to leave but spoke once more.
“Many years have passed. Not just in Jiugao City, but in all of Xiangliang, there are very few left who experienced this personally. If you have doubts, my words are useless. If the Lady...” Her voice broke for a moment before she continued, “...if the Lady were still here, her words would carry more weight than mine.”
Before Liu Caiwu could finish, Qin Jiuye interrupted her.
“Wait, are you saying that during the Juchao campaign, the General’s wife was also with the Black Moon Army?”
Liu Caiwu looked at the woman whose expression had suddenly changed. She frowned slightly before admitting, “The Lady was a physician. She could not bear to see the soldiers and the people of Juchao suffer, so she followed the Black Moon at the time. If not for that, I would not have been in Juchao myself.”
“Then did she leave anything behind? Notes, clinical records, or even just hand-written prescriptions? If there are any, could you let me see them?”
Qin Jiuye spoke with increasing urgency. Only after finishing did she realize her behavior might seem inappropriate, but she did not back down, gazing at the other woman with earnest eyes.
If Zuo Ci’s final notes had truly been taken by Di Mo and couldn't be recovered anytime soon, then the General’s wife’s clinical records might be the most precious research material available.
“Even if there are, why should I give them to you?” Liu Caiwu’s voice carried a hint of a mocking smile, but her beautiful eyes were frosted over. “The General once entrusted something vital to the survival of the entire Black Moon to Qin Sanyou, but Qin Sanyou failed to keep it and betrayed his oath. Do you intend to repeat history?”
Qin Jiuye’s gaze swept over the woman’s face. She was familiar with this kind of aggressive defense. The helplessness and pain of the sudden truth faded slightly; her keen perception of human nature allowed her to calm down. She spoke softly.
“Manager Liu, you possess great skill and a proud nature. Is the reason you are willing to stay in the Qiu Manor and follow the Second Young Master’s orders because of the General’s wife?”
The moment the words left her mouth, the woman before her fell into a deathly silence.
Unlike the previous pauses, hearing the words "General’s wife" seemed to make her lose her very soul. If it were merely to repay a debt of gratitude, there was no need to appear so burdened by bitterness. It was likely that gratitude was only part of it; the rest was to pay back a debt. As for what she had done wrong or whether she had been forgiven, Qin Jiuye felt she didn't necessarily need to know.
Qin Jiuye sighed and reached out, earnestly taking hold of the other woman’s sleeve.
“I am only guessing. The scars on your hands should be the result of erosion from some kind of poisonous sand. Although I don't know much about the cultivation of martial artists, as a physician, I can see the signs. These old injuries, left over years, flare up easily. They aren't fatal, but they are agonizing. If you want to root them out, it cannot be done overnight; it requires dedicated daily care...”
As she spoke, she naturally took the woman’s hand. Her soft fingertips lightly touched the palm before pulling away. She kept her head slightly bowed, her focus entirely on the old scars. The light was dim, so she squinted slightly, her eyes appearing brighter than the oil lamp, radiating a sense of steady strength in the silence.
For a moment, Liu Caiwu felt as if she had returned to the day she first met the General’s wife many years ago.
Unlike the Second Young Master, who resembled his mother, this woman’s features bore no resemblance to the Lady at all. Yet, it was that demeanor and aura that made her miss the Lady uncontrollably, making her sink into the illusion even though she knew it was false.
In the world she once knew, no one would ever gently hold her hand and examine it with such care.
Because those people knew these were not hands, but weapons for killing.
*So, My Lady, tell me... is the choice I am about to make the right one?*
It all happened in an instant.
The moment Qin Jiuye withdrew her hand, Liu Caiwu’s palm snapped shut, seizing the girl’s wrist.
The slender bone was caught in a grip of iron; it would take very little effort to crush it. Liu Caiwu leaned close to that thin little face and said word for word:
“If you dare to be negligent, if you make the same mistake as your grandfather and cause her to suffer shame or grievance, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth to demand justice.”
The pressure on her wrist tightened. Qin Jiuye suppressed the urge to wince and looked steadily into those eyes.
“If I do not give my all, if I violate what I have said today, may I die a miserable death and never earn a single copper coin in this life.”
Perhaps this "poisonous" oath worked. The grip on her wrist finally loosened, and the iron palm retreated back into the green sleeve.
“Those records are the Lady’s relics. I must ask the General and the two Young Masters before I can decide whether to give them to you.”
Qin Jiuye nodded while rubbing her wrist.
“Of course.” Having said that, she tucked the military tag away again, though she did not hang it back on her waist. She then looked at the green-clad woman. “Manager Liu, did you come here today to tell me all this because you wanted to reclaim something for the Qiu family or the Lady?”
Liu Caiwu was silent for a moment, as if truly considering the question. Finally, she spoke.
“The Lady’s death is inextricably linked to the fall of Juchao. But every debt has its debtor; I will not transfer the mistakes and grudges of the previous generation onto the next. That is a lesson the Lady taught me.” She turned to walk out of the room, casting one last look at the figure in the candlelight before leaving. “But I felt you should know the truth. Just consider that I have paid a great price to pursue this truth, and I simply wanted to find someone to share it with.”
To share her indignation, her resentment, and her loneliness.
Her heart had long since withered and turned to waste. The moment Zhu Fuxue was brought to justice, it had scattered like a handful of sand in the wind. The remaining memories of that past seemed to lose all meaning.
Perhaps in another twenty-two years, no one would care about the truth of those events at all.
But for now, the painful truth acted like an umbilical cord, linking the fates of people at both ends, ensuring that dark past would be remembered.
Rainwater mixed with moonlight was crushed underfoot as the green figure merged into the night.
Her rapid pace suddenly stopped. Liu Caiwu looked toward the cold courtyard where the blood-beech tree stood.
So, this was the day.
Since the day the Lady left, she had been waiting for this day to come. But the wait had been so long that she thought she might never see it.
In these long years, she had encountered many famous physicians and masters, but she had never even thought of mentioning the things the Lady had left behind. It wasn't just because those people didn't care; it was because she knew with a single glance that they were not worthy.
But My Lady... she had finally waited long enough. She had waited until the day a third person besides herself could see the Lady’s painstaking efforts.
Her wide sleeves hid her trembling hands. She stood alone in the courtyard, letting the night wind envelop her.
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
腰牌 | Military Tag / Waist Tag | A wooden or metal token used for identification in the military.
逃兵 | Deserter | A soldier who abandons their post without permission.
传信兵 | Messenger / Courier | A soldier responsible for delivering vital military communications.
万人坑 | Mass Grave | Literally "ten-thousand-person pit," referring to a site where many bodies are buried together.
诊录 | Clinical Records / Medical Notes | A physician's recorded observations and treatments.
毒砂 | Poisonous Sand | A type of toxic substance or weapon used in martial arts contexts.
