Ever since that day she had been forced into a "sparring match" with Su Pingchuan, Xiao Nanhui had taken three consecutive days of leave, not daring to linger anywhere near the city gates.
In truth, even if she had gone to work as usual, she wouldn't have run into Su Pingchuan. This was because the Left General had also taken leave.
The soldiers of the Guangyao Camp were beginning to believe the rumors: the Left General and the newly appointed Right General had crossed paths outside the city and engaged in a fierce brawl. After three hundred rounds of combat, both had emerged battered and bruised, and with neither able to claim victory, they had each retreated to their respective manors to nurse their wounds.
Of course, Xiao Nanhui knew nothing of this. She was busy preparing for her journey south to Jizhou.
Aside from Yao Yi, Xiao Zhun, and Bolao, she had told no one of the mission the Emperor had entrusted to her. To the outside world, she claimed she was accompanying the army out of the city and might be gone for several months.
Dujuan was quite saddened by this, though it was likely more due to the loss of potential matchmaking candidates she wouldn't be able to see. Nevertheless, before Xiao Nanhui left, Dujuan packed several large bundles of food and supplies for her. Xiao Nanhui didn't have the heart to tell her that as soon as she left the manor, she had turned around and sent that mountain of luggage straight to Yao Yi.
Accompanied only by Jixiang, Pingxian, and Bolao, she carried very little travel money. Her personal luggage was even lighter than when she had traveled to Huozhou, for fear of attracting too much attention on the road.
She was someone who had known hardship; even if she were dropped into the middle of a deep forest for a month, she would find a way to survive. Bolao, however, was clearly unwilling to suffer with her. They had barely reached the middle of Jiazi Avenue when Xiao Nanhui managed to shake several gold leaves out of Bolao’s person.
Xiao Nanhui looked at Bolao with a cold sneer. The latter defended herself guiltily, "The Emperor surely feared you wouldn't have enough to spend while on your mission, so he bestowed these upon you. You forgot to bring them, so I remembered for you."
"You worry too much." Xiao Nanhui took the gold leaves, kneaded them into a ball, and stuffed them back into Bolao's hand. "This time, we are infiltrating from the grassroots. We are following a strategy of frugality. Since we haven't gone far yet, hurry up and take these cumbersome things back."
Bolao stomped back in a huff, and Xiao Nanhui sighed inwardly.
Bolao had never been to Lingxi, but Xiao Nanhui had grown up there. In that godforsaken place, there was nowhere to spend gold. There were only a handful of people who could afford to use gold, and she certainly shouldn't be one of them.
Dismounting to wait for Bolao by the roadside, Xiao Nanhui looked up and suddenly felt that the tree before her looked familiar. She glanced around and realized she was standing at the back gate of the Prime Minister's manor.
As for the tree—of course it was familiar. She had spent an entire night perched in its branches.
As the saying goes, one does not remember the incense until one reaches the Buddha's door.
She had almost forgotten how she had been led around by the nose by that man. Not only had her credit been snatched away for nothing, but her attempt to investigate the Xiao family's affairs had also hit a dead end. She had thought about going to settle the score several times, but in the end, her courage had failed her.
With a titan like the Prime Minister standing in the way, even if she wanted to exorcise a demon, she had to show some deference.
Even if she didn't settle the score, she could at least poke around, couldn't she? That man was no stranger to deception; what if his claim of being a guest of the Prime Minister was also a lie? Yet, the token Ding Weixiang had shown outside the city that day didn't seem fake. Then... perhaps it was stolen from someone else?
As Xiao Nanhui turned these thoughts over in her mind, the back gate of the Prime Minister's manor suddenly creaked open.
A man dressed like a scholar emerged from the side door, accompanied by a young page. He looked to be a guest of the house as well.
Before her brain could fully process the thought, Xiao Nanhui's body had already lunged forward, cornering the man against the wall.
The man jumped in fright. He was likely a refined scholar who had never seen someone as agile and predatory as a tiger. He immediately scrambled back several steps, stammering, "W-warrior, if you have business, speak from there. Do not pull or tug. I am a student of Prime Minister Bo; do not act recklessly."
Xiao Nanhui thought to herself: *I know you're from the Prime Minister's manor; that's exactly why I'm looking for you.*
It was just that this scholar was far too frail. For someone who also lacked martial arts, a certain someone's courage was much greater than his.
Fearing the man would shout and alert the manor, she tried her best to adopt a friendly expression. "Brother, I only wish to ask you about something. I mean no harm."
The scholar sized her up. Xiao Nanhui was dressed very plainly for her departure from the city. While she didn't look like a vagrant or a bandit, it was clear she didn't hail from a prestigious family, which explained her coarse behavior.
Impatience flickered in his eyes, but he didn't dare resist. His expression remained strained. "I am in a hurry to reach the northern city academy. I cannot be delayed."
Xiao Nanhui nodded quickly. "I won't keep you from your business. I just wanted to ask: is there a guest at the Prime Minister's manor with the surname Zhongli?" Seeing the man's suspicious look, she added, "He owes me money and refuses to see me, so I've come looking for him."
The scholar paused, squinting as if searching his memory. "Such a unique surname... if I had heard it or seen it, I would not have forgotten it."
"So, have you seen him or not?"
The scholar shook his head.
Xiao Nanhui didn't give up. "Then have you seen a sword-bearing guard named Ding? A Lieutenant from the Yanchi Camp."
This time, the scholar seemed to have an impression. "You mean Lieutenant Ding Weixiang? He is on good terms with the Third Young Master of the Prime Minister's house. He visits quite often."
Xiao Nanhui frowned upon hearing this.
This was strange. That fellow Ding Weixiang was usually inseparable from his master. How could the scholar have only seen him alone? Unless the man before her wasn't telling the whole truth.
Xiao Nanhui's doubtful gaze fell upon the scholar, but he had already hurriedly backed away, pulling his page along. "I truly have urgent business. I must ask you to step aside."
In broad daylight, she couldn't exactly bar his path, so she stepped aside.
"Sorry for the trouble."
As the scholar hurried away, Bolao returned. Seeing Xiao Nanhui staring blankly toward the intersection, Bolao took the opportunity for a bit of petty revenge and kicked her.
"What are you looking at? Let's go."
Xiao Nanhui brushed the footprint off her clothes, grabbed Bolao without a word, and gave her a thorough shaking. Once she was certain no more strange objects were hidden on her person, she flipped onto her horse in silence.
Bolao quickly mounted her own horse and followed. As the sound of hoofbeats faded, the back street of the Prime Minister's manor returned to silence.
At the corner of the back street, the scholar who had just hurried away stopped before an inconspicuous carriage. After carefully confirming that Xiao Nanhui had left, he climbed inside.
Aside from the elderly driver, there was only one person in the carriage. His hair and beard were entirely white—it was the old Prime Minister, Bo Zhaoyu.
He showed no surprise at the scholar's entrance.
"Is she gone?"
"Replying to Teacher: she has left."
"What did she ask?"
"She asked if there was a guest in the manor with the surname Zhongli."
"And how did you answer?"
"I answered her exactly as Teacher instructed."
The old Prime Minister gave a slow, deliberate "mm" and stroked his beard, seemingly satisfied with his own foresight.
"Teacher..." The scholar's expression was hesitant.
"Is there something else?"
"Lieutenant Ding came by late last night."
"Again?!" Bo Zhaoyu's carefully maintained composure shattered instantly.
The scholar, likely seeing the old Prime Minister's eyes bulge and beard quiver for the first time, was momentarily stunned and could only nod.
"What did he come for? To borrow the Third Son's token again?"
"No." The scholar paused, then spoke truthfully. "The Third Young Master hid his token. This time, he borrowed the Second Young Master's token."
Bo Zhaoyu squeezed his eyes shut tightly. "Anything else?"
"...He also borrowed a carriage from the manor."
A desperate silence filled the carriage. The scholar was at a loss.
In his impression, although the Prime Minister was old, he was not a pedantic man. On the contrary, he was wise and open-minded. He shouldn't be the type to get so angry over a mere carriage.
However, it seemed that whenever Lieutenant Ding appeared, the Prime Minister acted out of character. About half a month ago, when Lieutenant Ding came to return the Third Young Master's waist token, the Prime Minister said nothing at the time, but as soon as the guest left, he blew up at the Third Young Master.
The Third Young Master was the most refined and polite of men, yet even he couldn't help but talk back that time. Father and son had parted on bad terms.
The Third Young Master was nearly thirty years old. Aside from one or two bedchamber maids, the position of his primary wife remained vacant. The last time he had quarreled with the Prime Minister was over the matter of marriage.
Wait. The Third Young Master was well past the age for marriage, and the old Prime Minister became extremely anxious whenever Lieutenant Ding arrived. Could it be...?
A wild, baseless fantasy began to unfold in the scholar's mind: *Could the Prime Minister's anger be because Lieutenant Ding has feelings for the Third Young Master?*
He was startled by his own thought, but the more he considered it, the more it made sense. The Third Young Master hiding his token yesterday was a subtle way of telling Lieutenant Ding that he was determined to sever this bond. What a tragic drama of star-crossed lovers!
That brute from earlier might very well have been someone sent by Lieutenant Ding himself, speaking nonsense to probe the situation. If that were the case, the old Prime Minister's absurd instructions earlier made sense—it was a smokescreen!
Ah, it was truly lamentable that his teacher, at such an advanced age, had to worry and suffer over such matters.
Of course, being so brilliant, even if he had seen through it all, he could not take advantage of the situation. The highest path was to see the truth but remain silent.
Bo Zhaoyu finally opened his eyes, completely unaware of the flight of fancy his student was currently enjoying. He gave an order to the old man driving the carriage.
"Uncle Zhang, head out of the city."
Uncle Zhang acknowledged the command and drove the carriage toward the city gates.
The scholar carefully watched the Prime Minister's face and asked tentatively, "Teacher, where are we going? Are we not going to the academy?"
"To Yongye Temple."
"What are we going to Yongye Temple for?"
"To burn incense and pray to the Buddha." The old Prime Minister smoothed his chest, seemingly having calmed down. However, the trembling tips of his beard betrayed the tumultuous state of his heart.
The scholar quickly added, "Yes, I shall also offer three sticks of incense to pray for the peace and safety of Teacher's household."
Bo Zhaoyu gave him a strange look. "What does this have to do with my household?"
The scholar was bewildered. "Then what is Teacher praying for?"
The old Prime Minister sighed, a genuine sorrow etched between his brows. "To pray that the heavens have not yet exhausted the destiny of our Tiancheng. And while I'm at it, to ask Master Yikong for a few sachets of calming incense. Otherwise, I won't be getting a single night of peaceful sleep for the next month or two."
***
