The winter sunrise always arrived a little late.
On the official road outside the imperial traveling palace in Jiaosong County, the carriages of civil and military officials were huddled together, waiting for their masters. The stable boys yawned incessantly, the white mist of their breath only deepening the pervasive drowsiness.
Inside the palace walls, however, the atmosphere was entirely different.
Having witnessed the scene in the Great Hall earlier, everyone was trembling with trepidation and doubt. Each person was privately wondering if there was some hidden pitfall or obstacle in the convoluted case of the Bai clan that might trip them up.
Consequently, as soon as the assembly before the hall dispersed and the officials had nodded their farewells to one another, they one by one drifted toward the side hall. They hoped perhaps to gain an audience with the Emperor to profess their loyalty, or at least to probe whether any danger lurked for them.
Yet, everyone seemed to have briefly forgotten one thing: the Emperor had always disliked seeing people.
Private audiences with ministers were rarer still.
The officials stood awkwardly outside the side hall for a while before they were forced to nod to each other once more and depart, returning to their lodgings with anxious hearts and clothes dusted with cold dew.
After seeing off the last official, Shan Jiangfei carried a stack of memorial scrolls into the hall. He carefully closed the doors and dismissed the night-watch attendants.
Perhaps hearing the movement, the man on the soft couch behind the beaded curtain of the inner chamber slowly opened his eyes.
"What time is it?"
Hearing the question, the attendant-in-waiting in the outer room quickly lifted the curtain and approached.
"Reporting to Your Majesty, it is a quarter past the hour of the Rabbit."
"Are they all gone?"
"They have all departed." Shan Jiangfei set the scrolls aside and carefully brought over a tureen of soup that had been warming on a small stove. "This was brewed earlier. Your Majesty has not touched a drop of water since the start of the sacrificial ceremony; please, drink something warm to soothe your stomach."
The Emperor did not rebuff the attendant's kindness. He took two sips from the porcelain spoon in the tureen, his gaze falling upon the scrolls.
"What are these?"
"Only Director Jiang of the Tiancheng Office stated his was a report on the expenditures for this ceremony. As for the others, this servant does not know."
The Tiancheng Office was responsible for the regulations and expenditures of all major sacrifices and audiences. Logically, if things were the same every year, there would be no need to submit a formal memorial. However, there were two exceptions this year: first, the choice of Jiaosong as the location, and second, the fireworks launched during the Yue River Send-off.
Since the founding of Tiancheng, there had never been a precedent for releasing sky lanterns or fireworks during the Last Day Sacrifice. But since the Emperor had spoken, who would dare not arrange it? Yet, after making the arrangements, they feared the Emperor might be forgetful and turn around to blame them. Thus, for the sake of their own safety, they shamelessly sent even the most tedious ledgers to the imperial presence, seeking only their own peace of mind.
As for the other scrolls, though they weren't ledgers, their purpose was much the same—everyone was lining up to seek a "reassurance pill" from the Emperor.
Shan Jiangfei intentionally moved the bamboo scrolls a bit further away and discreetly extinguished a few lamps.
"It is late, and the journey begins in two hours. Why doesn't Your Majesty take a short nap? These scrolls are not urgent; you can look at them in the carriage on the way back."
The Emperor, however, had already set down the soup tureen and extended a long, slender, pale hand.
"No matter. Bring them here now."
Left with no choice, Shan Jiangfei mentally scolded those officials who usually shirked work but panicked at the first sign of trouble, before presenting the scrolls.
The Emperor’s movements in picking up the bamboo slips were slow, but his eyes moved across the lines with extreme speed, clearly accustomed to the task.
As he scanned the characters, he suddenly asked, "Which official from the Ministry of Justice is presiding over the punishment today?"
The moment the words left his mouth, the attendant who had followed him for years understood.
"Rest assured, Your Majesty. Cui En is a veteran of the palace. I told him to stay his hand; he naturally knows how to exercise discretion."
The man did not respond immediately, only flipping through the scrolls in his hand somewhat distractedly.
One scroll, two... by the third, he finally stopped.
The side hall was very quiet. High-quality silk charcoal burned silently in the stove, making almost no sound.
"Is it windy outside?"
Shan Jiangfei walked to the window, adjusted the latches on the frame, and looked at the bells hanging from the eaves. "It is very still tonight. There isn't a breath of wind."
The Emperor stared at the flickering flame within the glass lamp.
The surroundings were silent and windless, yet the flame danced as if stirred by a breeze before returning to stillness a moment later.
The scrolls were tossed aside with a sharp *clack*.
"Tell Weixiang to go to the side gate and take a look. Once he sees the person leave the palace gates, have him return and report to me."
Shan Jiangfei froze, almost unable to believe the order he had heard.
"Your Majesty means to send Lieutenant Ding..."
"Yes."
An irrepressible look of strangeness appeared on the attendant's face. "Your Majesty has many guards; sending anyone else to check would be the same. The imperial carriage will be leaving shortly, and that assassin’s whereabouts are still unknown. This servant is worried..."
"Ah-Fei," the Emperor called his name, a rare occurrence. "Do not delay."
He rarely heard the other call his name. The last time he had been addressed this way was during a critical moment many years ago, the details of which had grown hazy.
"Yes."
The attendant adopted a calm and solemnity far beyond his years and hurried out of the hall.
The Emperor’s fingers tapped on the desk, creating a monotonous and irritating rhythm in the silent side hall.
*Tap. Tap. Tap.*
Xiao Nanhui’s blurred focus gradually converged on the bluestone tiles before her. She saw a dark red liquid dripping, drop by drop, into a hollow, where it had already gathered into a small puddle.
It was her blood.
"Guard Xiao, it is over."
The interrogator presiding over the punishment called her for the third time before her soul, which seemed to have drifted from her body, finally snapped back into its shell.
Xiao Nanhui pushed herself up from the execution bench. Her hands were shaking so violently that she couldn't pull the outer garment bunched at her waist back over her shoulders.
The official was merciful enough to step forward and help her arrange her clothes, then called for a palace servant.
"There are likely many people gathered outside the main palace gates right now. If you can still walk, Guard, I will have someone lead you out through the west side gate."
Xiao Nanhui struggled to lift her sleeve and wipe the cold sweat from her face. "Much obliged."
The official returned the gesture politely. "Think nothing of it. The army breaks camp to return in one hour; do not be delayed, Guard Xiao."
She acknowledged him in a daze and followed the small light held by the servant out of the execution area.
The month of January had just passed in Chizhou, and the cold was at its lingering peak.
The pre-dawn chill pierced through her clothes. Within moments, Xiao Nanhui felt the blood on her neck and back congeal between her skin and the fabric; every movement brought a sharp, tearing pain.
Yet even this piercing pain could not compare to the desolation in her heart. It felt as though a piece of her chest had been carved out—a place that once held warmth and memories was now hollow and empty.
She tried to convince herself that Xiao Zhun had no other choice.
He wanted to keep the Xiao household safe and preserve Bai Yun’s life. If this punishment did not fall on her, there would be no way to satisfy both ends.
She had only lost the use of her hands for the bow, while Bai Yun would have lost his life.
She was the most cost-effective piece in this gambit. Even she thought so.
The path through the traveling palace tonight seemed exceptionally long and grueling. After walking the stone path for a long time, they turned into a small trail.
The trail split into two at the end, leading to two inconspicuous side doors.
Xiao Nanhui instinctively moved to turn right, but the servant leading the way stood to the left.
"Guard Xiao, the path is this way."
Xiao Nanhui was a bit dazed. She vaguely remembered that when she arrived, she had entered through the eastern side door.
"The west side gate bypasses the back garden. That area is locked, and outsiders are not permitted at night."
The pain made her reactions much slower than usual. Without thinking further, she dragged her heavy legs toward the left.
Everything was pitch black; it was the darkest hour before the dawn.
There wasn't a single palace lantern on the path behind the side door. A strange scent wafted through the air, like the smell of something rotting.
At first, Xiao Nanhui thought it was her own sluggish pace that prevented her from seeing the palace walls, but after the time it took to drink a cup of tea, she finally sensed something was wrong.
The surroundings were too quiet. Aside from herself and the servant, she couldn't catch even a hint of human sound.
If they were near the palace gates, there would at least be the sound of night guards on patrol. It wouldn't be deathly silent like this.
Xiao Nanhui stopped in her tracks, trying to make her voice sound steady.
"Excuse me, is this the way to the palace gate? Why have we walked so long without seeing the walls?"
The figure ahead stopped but did not move.
"Naturally it is. We will be there in a moment."
The flickering palace lantern was dizzying. Xiao Nanhui squinted, trying to make out her surroundings.
"There should be guards from the Black Feather Battalion near the gates. Why can't I see a single light?"
The servant finally turned around slowly.
He held the lantern, but it only illuminated half of his face. One eye on that half-face drooped, while his mouth was fixed in a smile that was profoundly eerie.
"You are more alert than I imagined."
Xiao Nanhui took a half-step back, her injured shoulders beginning to throb uncontrollably. "Who exactly are you?"
"We have met before, though you don't remember."
As the servant spoke, he slowly drew a dagger from his sleeve.
The situation was too bizarre to make sense of. Xiao Nanhui pressed her lips thin, her mind racing to figure out how to neutralize him in one move. She had just undergone punishment and was essentially half-crippled; moreover, she didn't have a single object on her person for self-defense. She had to strike first to have any chance of winning.
But before she could act, the servant quickly blew out the lantern with a sharp *whoosh*.
The world plunged into total darkness. Before her eyes could adjust to the gloom, she heard the sound of wind coming from the front. Instinctively, she dodged to the side.
The attacker missed. The sound of heavy breathing came from her front-left; he didn't sound like a trained martial artist.
The dodge had taken her off the small path. Beneath her feet was soft, frost-covered grass, and her boots felt slick and unstable.
The moonlight finally offered a sliver of brightness, and Xiao Nanhui could vaguely see the figure before her.
Sensing her gaze, the servant lunged at her with the dagger. Though his movements were stiff, they carried a reckless, desperate ferocity.
Xiao Nanhui dodged clumsily. Shadows loomed all around—she couldn't tell if they were rockeries or trees. Her foot caught on the edge of a flowerbed, her boot wedging into a gap between the tiles. For a moment, she couldn't move, and she tumbled to the ground.
The moment she hit the earth, she sensed something was wrong.
Her hand brushed against the soft vines of some climbing plant. A strange, exotic fragrance rose around her, as if some scent settled on the ground had been stirred up. The air began to feel heavy and intoxicating.
She immediately recalled the incident at the Xuemi Palace, but the fragrance in this darkness was even more domineering and cloying than before. In an instant, her head spun, and her limbs went weak.
In the space of a breath, the servant had scrambled up from the ground and was walking toward her step by step, dagger raised. He seemed entirely unaffected, that bone-chilling smile still fixed on his face.
In this life-or-death moment, Xiao Nanhui used her one mobile leg to kick hard at the man's stomach.
She used every ounce of her strength. She could almost hear the sound of ribs snapping in his chest, yet the man seemed to feel no pain. His right hand didn't falter as he stabbed viciously toward her throat.
Xiao Nanhui struggled to raise her arm to shield herself, attempting to block the fatal blow. But in the next heartbeat, the sound of wind came from behind her.
A powerful gust swept past her cheek. The blade of a long saber flashed in the moonlight like a bolt of lightning.
She saw the hand gripping the dagger slowly slide away, leaving behind a dark, blunt stump.
Warm blood splattered across her face.
*What a clean strike,* Xiao Nanhui thought, before she plunged into a deep, heavy darkness.
***
