Xiao Nanhui was having a nightmare again.
When one is in a dream, they often do not realize it. Strangely, this time she was acutely aware that she was dreaming.
She seemed to be standing atop Jingbo Tower. The sunset on the horizon was like flowing fire, and the streets of Que City below were utterly deserted.
The wind chimes hanging from the eaves collided soundlessly. Her surroundings were silent; she could not even hear the whisper of the wind.
She wanted to turn and leave, but she found there was no way off this square terrace. There were no doors or windows in the stone-brick walls, and the endless balustrades always led her back to the same spot after four turns.
Strange. Everything was strange.
She hesitated, wanting to approach the balustrade to see what lay below. But just as she caught a glimpse of a rockery by the lake, someone tapped her shoulder, light and quick, from behind.
Xiao Nanhui stopped and turned around.
Standing a few paces away was a beautiful young woman.
The woman was truly stunning. Yet, for some reason, though Xiao Nanhui knew it was a beautiful face, she could not discern the style of her hair, the shape of her brows, or the color of her lips. Only her eyes—quiet and clear as mirrors—were the only distinct features on that blurred face, soothing her, drawing her in like an unfathomable vortex.
The beautiful woman studied her for a moment, then beckoned, seemingly calling her closer.
Xiao Nanhui hesitated, then took a few steps forward and leaned in.
The woman leaned down slightly and began to speak into her ear.
What?
What was she saying?
Xiao Nanhui frowned, trying to get closer, trying to hear more clearly, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not make out those few short syllables.
After a long while, the woman finally drew back. Her gaze seemed tinged with regret. She tilted her head in thought, then raised her right index finger and pointed to the palm of her left hand.
This time, Xiao Nanhui understood instantly and held out her hand.
The woman’s fingertip descended gently.
Two horizontal strokes, one vertical, one left-falling, and one right-falling.
Xiao Nanhui’s eyes widened. Just as the woman was about to speak again, the scenery around them suddenly shifted.
The fiery sunset turned dull and lightless. The streets of Que City in the distance began to collapse, and Jingbo Tower beneath her feet started to sink and churn like a quicksand pit in the Suyan Gobi.
She felt that downward pull again. In the final moment before she was plunged into darkness, she felt the woman gently curl Xiao Nanhui's fingers closed and place them over her own heart.
Darkness rushed in from all sides, and then something flickered to life within it.
It was an oil lamp.
Was the dream over? Had she actually woken up?
Xiao Nanhui tried to reach for the lamp, but after two steps, she realized the bricks beneath her feet were familiar.
These were the floor tiles of the Marquis of Qinghuai’s manor. She was standing in the side courtyard. She had not left the dream.
Why the side courtyard?
Even in a dream, she would rarely come here alone at night. Because Aunt Dai lived here, and she was always afraid of disturbing her.
The wick in the oil lamp had burned low; the only light in the darkness grew weaker and weaker.
Xiao Nanhui stared at the lamp, and a memory suddenly surfaced.
Wait, she seemed to remember this scene.
That night, she had visited Yao Yi because of her private investigation into Zou Sifang. Yao Yi had said the letter had been returned and gave her a ring of keys. Then she had used those keys to unlock the side courtyard’s wing room. And then, in a dust-covered lacquered box, she had found a bloodstained garment and a ribbon.
Xiao Nanhui looked down.
At this very moment, her right hand was clutching that ribbon.
A shadow stopped behind her. Startled, she whirled around to see Aunt Dai standing a few paces away, barefoot.
Her face was twisted grotesquely, her eyes bulging as if they might pop out of their sockets, staring fixedly at the object in Xiao Nanhui’s hand.
Xiao Dai’s mouth was wide open, as if she were screaming silently.
Then, she suddenly lunged forward, fingers splayed, and violently seized Xiao Nanhui’s throat.
It all happened too fast. Xiao Nanhui had no time to react, and she never imagined Aunt Dai would attack her.
Her eyes rolled back as she struggled desperately within the dream.
However, even though her consciousness was perfectly clear, her body was weak and powerless. She could not even make a sound.
She tilted her head back; above her was a pitch-black sky, devoid of stars or moon.
Finally, she heard a sound.
A distant, blurry sound.
"Wake up." His voice was very soft, his breath falling against her ear like a passing breeze. "You’re having a nightmare."
In an instant, the crushing weight that had stifled her breath suddenly vanished. Xiao Nanhui felt her body return to her control. Her fingers instinctively flew to the dagger at her waist, drawing it with a sharp snap.
Then she opened her eyes.
She saw a hand, veins bulging from exertion, extending from her sweat-soaked sleeve. The dagger in that hand glinted with a cold light, its lethal edge resting against the man’s pale, slender neck.
Her vision gradually cleared. Her hand relaxed, and the dagger fell onto the soft cushion.
"I... I’m sorry..."
He didn't speak. He only took her trembling hand, pulled her a little closer, and patted her back.
His movements were very light, landing with an uncertain hesitation—unlike Cuckoo’s hands, which were always so firm and brisk.
But even so, it was enough for her.
Xiao Nanhui took a deep breath and looked out the window.
The faint morning light was just beginning to break through the misty sky.
The morning birds in the courtyard were chirping noisily. Ding Weixiang’s dark green figure flickered past the window, returning from some unknown scouting mission.
The trembling gradually subsided. She finally shook off the gloom of the dream and returned to reality.
She was currently in the territory of the Shen family in Heimu County, Huozhou. They had arrived last night; only one night had passed.
But vaguely, she felt as though she had experienced that dream once before. However, she could no longer remember the details of that previous dream, only a blurred shadow remained.
She looked at the man before her in a daze. Just as she was about to mention the Jingbo Tower from her dream, Ding Weixiang strode into the room.
"Master, they are here."
The man stood up immediately, blocking Ding Weixiang’s line of sight.
"Let’s go."
Xiao Nanhui quickly retrieved her dagger from the cushion. Just as she followed them into the courtyard, she saw a familiar figure appear at the gate.
"Did the three of you rest well?"
She had originally intended to stay awake all night to keep watch, but she had ended up having two nightmares in a row. Was that resting well or not?
Xiao Nanhui forced a smile.
"Well enough."
The old woman nodded and signaled to the three grey-clad guards behind her. They stepped forward, each holding a blindfold.
"To enter the inner courtyard, you must be blindfolded. I trust you won't mind?"
Xiao Nanhui said nothing, discreetly shooting a glance at Ding Weixiang.
Ding Weixiang clearly understood her meaning but gave little response, simply stepping forward first to accept the blindfold.
She understood then that he and his master must have already devised a plan, so she followed suit.
"It is no matter. Please lead the way, Madam."
At first, with the blindfold on, she tried to mentally record the number of steps and changes in direction, but as time passed, her mind began to grow heavy.
She finally understood the donkey that turned the millstone in the backyard of Wangchen Tower. Darkness brought lethargy, and the emptiness of not seeing the path ahead could sap one's fighting spirit.
Like someone jolting awake just as they are about to fall asleep, she suddenly became alert. She forced herself to focus her thoughts, beginning to recall everything she had seen since stepping into Heimu County.
When they arrived, their boat had traveled downstream. Yet, upon reaching the mudflats, she had seen many small boats smuggling coal choosing to carry cargo upstream and return empty downstream. This was rare at other docks, but it suggested one possibility: the Hun River was an absolutely secure transport route for the Shen family. It was common for merchant ships to encounter bandits on river routes, and even coal boats were not exempt. But if the entire Hun River waterway was controlled by the Shen family, the risk of trouble was greatly reduced. It was a perfectly stable transport route, worth the extra time.
The Shen clan had once possessed an army. Even with a change of dynasties, their roots were deep and could not be eradicated in a day. Aside from the grey-clad guards, she hadn't seen any other organized private soldiers nearby, but perhaps this invisible "army" was hidden among those small boats plying the Hun River, only to reveal itself when necessary.
When she had first come to Huozhou and returned with the Secret Seal, Hao Bai had taken the faster water route, but the Emperor had chosen the more treacherous mountain path. Perhaps there was a similar reason behind that choice.
Thinking of this, she suddenly realized something.
From the grey-clad guards to the boatmen and trackers, and then to the inner courtyard servants—aside from the blind old woman and Zhao Ximei—she had not seen a single elderly person.
In fact, she hadn't even seen any middle-aged men or women. Even in positions that usually required experience, such as gatekeepers, guards, or head maids, she saw only young men and women.
She remembered a rumor Yao Yi had told her long ago about the Qu family. Even at its peak, the Qu clan had only numbered a dozen or so people because members of the clan rarely lived past the age of twenty. For a great clan, even if four generations did not live under one roof, there should at least be elders presiding. If only young people were visible, there had to be some unspeakable reason.
As she pondered, the old woman’s footsteps ahead finally stopped.
The blindfold was removed. Xiao Nanhui blinked to adjust to the light and looked forward.
The courtyard was not large. The candles from the previous night had not been extinguished, illuminating the entire space. There were many rockeries but few flowers or plants. Instead, the ground was covered in soft, fine hay. A few plump rabbits hopped about. In the center of the courtyard stood a solitary old pine tree, and hanging among its branches were several large birdcages filled with brightly colored birds.
Directly beneath the birdcages stood a young girl. She was dressed very formally, her twin-bun hairstyle adorned with three or four exceptionally exquisite and expensive hairpins. She held a reed, teasing the birds in the cages, and only turned around when she heard them.
She stared fixedly at Xiao Nanhui and the others. Her round, dark pupils reflected a maturity that did not match her age.
"This old servant greets the Family Head."
The nearly century-old woman slowly bowed in greeting. Xiao Nanhui could hardly hide her shock.
The Shen clan of the North, a local power that controlled coal mines and possessed its own private guards—their Family Head was a young girl of no more than seven or eight years?
After the old woman finished her greeting, she stepped forward and whispered something, then retreated to the doorway and remained silent.
"Young Master Zhongli, we finally meet." The girl walked slowly from the garden, her hands behind her back, her pace leisurely. "There were a few unpleasant incidents previously, so there are more complications for outsiders entering the manor. Please forgive any lack of courtesy."
Her words were perfectly poised, but coming from such a child, they felt indescribably eerie.
The girl stopped in the center of the courtyard and gestured for the three of them to sit.
Xiao Nanhui noticed that one of the stone chairs by the table was raised higher, seemingly specially prepared for the child. Thus, even when seated, her line of sight would not be lower than theirs.
Xiao Nanhui and Ding Weixiang exchanged glances, but Su Wei’s expression remained calm.
"Has the Family Head offended someone? Or perhaps, done something to offend others?"
The girl sighed and poured three cups of tea at the stone table.
"I have an enemy. I know too many of its secrets, so it wants to kill me. My clansmen and I have fought it for many years, yet we still haven't fully escaped it. It’s just that in recent years, it has found a new target and temporarily put me out of its mind." She paused, though her hands did not stop their task. "I wonder, what brings the Young Master here?"
"And what brings the Family Head to set up the Yueyuan Array?"
The girl finally set down the teapot, which had served as a mere prop. The last trace of childishness vanished from her face, replaced by a calculating coldness at the corners of her mouth.
"You and I already clashed secretly a year ago. There is no need to beat around the bush now, is there?"
"If the Family Head is willing to be direct, it would indeed save much trouble."
"I consider the last time a loss by one move, but this time might be different. I have never been soft-hearted toward fat sheep that deliver themselves to my door."
"I have heard that the Shen clan of Huozhou is a great power, and that its head, Shen Shian, possesses the spirit to ride the wind and chase the waves. Seeing you now, it seems the rumors were exaggerated, if you refer to guests you invited as livestock."
Shen Shian was not angered. She rested her small, fleshy hands under her chin and tilted her head to look at the man.
"You are the one asking for my help. Even if you gain some verbal advantage, what difference does it make to the outcome?"
The man did not answer, instead changing the subject.
"Does the Family Head know of a silk weave called the Tian Shou?"
"A thing of legend. Even if it once existed, what of it?"
Su Wei did not reply immediately. He casually drew an object from his sleeve and held it gently in his palm.
The old, plain-colored ribbon lay coiled in his hand, looking like a venomous snake just waking from hibernation, ready to flick its tongue at any moment.
"If I have come this time to discuss the price of this Tian Shou with the Family Head, what would you think?"
Shen Shian’s expression finally changed. But she quickly regained her composure.
"It is just a ribbon. It isn't worth a single copper coin."
The man wound the ribbon around his fingertip, seemingly examining it closely.
"Perhaps what is valuable is not the ribbon itself, but the information left by the person who wove it."
Shen Shian’s gaze grew colder.
"One would have to be able to read that information for it to have value."
"The ribbon is in my hands. If I wish to investigate, I will spend the time. If I do not, I could just as easily use it to bind firewood for the hearth."
"You..." Shen Shian stood up abruptly from her stone chair, but her anger flashed only for a second before being replaced by a cold hardness several times more intense than before. "Everything has a price. To gain something, one must pay. I wonder, for the prophecy within this silk, what price is the Young Master willing to pay?"
"As for this so-called prophecy, how much is true and how much is false? How do I know if what the Family Head says is worth the price?"
Shen Shian laughed soundlessly.
She gave a casual wave, and the rabbits gathered around her. She picked one up and placed it on her lap, gently stroking its fur.
"When the Xishen people trade furs, they like to let the customer see the goods first. They cover the entire pelt with an oilcloth, leaving only a hole the size of a palm for the customer to judge. If they like it, they buy it for a high price. If they don't, they won't know the appearance of the whole pelt or develop any ulterior motives. It is fair to both buyer and seller. If the Young Master doesn't mind, he can spend the time it takes to drink a cup of tea to listen to a story."
Su Wei remained silent, so Shen Shian began to speak on her own.
"In ancient times, divine sacrifices and shamanic divination were prevalent in every province. Among them was a rare method of divination used by kings only during times of extreme danger or when the fate of the nation was collapsing. They would use the power of the entire state to find the two most prestigious diviners and have them sit in separate rooms to divine the same matter simultaneously. If the divinations were roughly the same, they were recorded together. If they differed greatly, the omens and prophecies were recorded separately and preserved. This method was called 'Yi Shi Tong Zhen'—Parallel Divinations of One Truth."
"Legend has it that a hundred years ago, when the Niexuan Dynasty was crumbling and on the verge of extinction, they secretly invited the Qu family to descend from the mountains. In a place where the land and rivers ended, they set up an altar and performed the final Parallel Divination. Two families answered the call. Both used dreams as the basis for their prophecies. One family used warp and weft as their canvas, weaving 'Prophetic Books' that none but their own kin could decipher. The other family burned bone to create script, sealing it within vessels that could not be opened until the fated time. Subsequently, these two prophecies were carefully guarded by the imperial family of that time, hidden from the eyes of the world."
"However, not long after that divination, the two families of diviners met with misfortune one after another. The Su clan staged a coup, breaking a long-held balance. The traditions of sacrifice, shamanism, and the worship of gods fell along with the ancient Niexuan state. The family that burned bone was blinded by divine power, becoming recurring sacrifices upon the altar; their numbers dwindled, and they struggled to survive. The family that wove silk was implicated by the change in dynasties. Someone secretly reported that the fallen princess of Niexuan had entrusted an orphaned child to that clan, leading to the entire family being wiped out overnight..."
Xiao Nanhui’s heart hammered against her ribs as the story concluded. She remembered the old case involving the remnants of the previous dynasty that Su Wei had told her about on the way to Huozhou. She blurted out a question.
"Are you saying that when Qiu Feiyu fled to the North, she had a child with her?"
Shen Shian let go of the rabbit, and it hopped away from her lap.
"Young lady, the hole in the oilcloth is only so big. If you want to reach for other parts, you had best wait until the transaction is settled."
Xiao Nanhui was silenced. She looked at the young girl, and suddenly her hair stood on end. Perhaps the person before her was not nearly as young as she appeared.
The price. What was the price she spoke of?
At that moment, Shen Shian’s gaze landed on Su Wei’s wrist.
"I have heard that the sarira of a high monk can neutralize a hundred poisons and is a rare medicinal catalyst. I wonder if the Young Master is willing to part with his treasure and give that string of Buddhist beads to me?"
***
**Glossary**
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