After all the princes and princesses were confined to the palace, and several servants in the mansion died in a fire caused by a toppled candle while drunkenly brawling, the Scar-faced Man sensed something amiss.
These servants were all long-time retainers of the household, having traveled far and wide with their masters over the years. They held some standing in the eyes of their superiors and were known for their caution—hardly the type to gather for a reckless drinking session that would end in their deaths.
"The Imperial Guards have surrounded both the Prince's and Princess's residences. No servants are allowed to leave. I heard someone tried to get closer to see the commotion today and was nearly arrested."
"His Majesty truly values Prince Qi, going to such lengths for him."
"Are you new here?"
"Ah, yes. Why do you ask?"
"Newcomers who know nothing should keep their mouths shut."
Passing through the outer courtyard, the Scar-faced Man overheard the servants' chatter and felt an eerie sensation of being watched.
Only the dead keep secrets—their master intended to silence all the servants who knew too much!
Realizing the danger, he feigned a quarrel with another servant, retreated to his room to gather his belongings, and fled the city under cover of night with the steward who had once accompanied him to Lingzhou.
Not daring to venture too far until the heat died down, they sought refuge.
"There’s a small temple in the hills outside the city, home to just a few old monks. Hardly anyone visits," the steward in blue robes said, pulling a dagger from his boot. "We’ll hide there until we’re safe from our master’s pursuit."
"Are you sure no one will come?" the Scar-faced Man asked warily.
"That rundown place only attracts the occasional ignorant peasant woman for prayers. If the monks are lucky, they might see a visitor or two—no nobles would ever set foot there."
"Fine." After a brief pause, the Scar-faced Man agreed.
Upon reaching the temple, they deceived the monks into letting them stay, then quickly bound them.
The steward in blue moved to slit the monks’ throats, but the Scar-faced Man stopped him. "Disposing of bodies is troublesome. Lock them in the root cellar first."
As they hauled the monks down, the steward grumbled, "What do these stinking monks eat to be so heavy?"
"You villains, committing evil before the gods! The Bodhisattva will punish you!"
"The Bodhisattva?" The Scar-faced Man sneered, tapping his dagger against one monk’s scarred scalp. "Years ago, some brat swore the Three Pure Ones would punish me. Yet here I am, alive and well."
"Gods and Buddhas fear the wicked." Satisfied by the monks’ trembling, he sheathed his blade. "Stay quiet. Out here in the wilderness, if you make a sound, we’ll kill you without—"
Before he could finish, shouts erupted outside.
"What’s going on? Didn’t you say this dump was deserted?" The Scar-faced Man glared at the steward, his gaze lingering on the man’s shaved head.
"I’ll check." The steward hastily donned a monk’s robe and patched kasaya before striding out.
At the gate, he saw noble youths escorted by servants and guards, and his stomach dropped. What were these pampered young masters and mistresses doing at a shabby temple at this hour? Still, their naivety might work in his favor—if he could deceive them, they’d leave without trouble.
But as he plotted his lies, the youngest noble girl saw through his disguise.
What was wrong with these capital-bred ladies? How did she know how monks usually dressed?
"What does the benefactress mean?" The steward opened his outer kasaya to reveal the patched robe beneath. "This humble monk wished to appear presentable before devout visitors. I never imagined such a gesture would cause misunderstanding."
"The steep path proves your piety and connection to the Buddha." He chanted a sutra, turning toward the statue. "Let us not raise weapons in His presence."
"Master, as a monk, you fret over patched robes?" Jiuzhu remained unmoved. "Your devotion is clearly lacking."
The steward nearly cursed. Who cared what monks wore? Just pray and leave!
Tension thickened. Noticing the burly guards, the steward suddenly pointed behind the statue and bellowed, "The Buddha! The Buddha!"
What about the Buddha?
Even the boldest hesitated at the mention of divine wrath. As the guards glanced away, the steward lunged, leaping over them to strike at the talkative girl.
"Ah!"
Inside, the Scar-faced Man paused mid-gagging the monks. That fool hadn’t just killed someone, had he?
He silenced the monks with a threatening look. "Stay put!" Then he crept out of the cellar.
He should’ve never teamed up with this idiot.
"Jiuzhu, is... is he still alive?" The Zhou siblings huddled together, eyeing the unconscious imposter.
"He’ll live. The strike was meant to incapacitate, not kill." Jiuzhu twirled the guard’s baton. Quite handy, these defensive tools.
"But... I swear I heard bones crack." Zhou Shucheng nudged the imposter with his toe. Getting no response, he ordered a servant to fetch rope.
"Young Master, we didn’t bring any," the servant fretted. "Should we search the temple?"
"Don’t go in yet—there might be accomplices." Jiuzhu handed the baton to Zhou Shucheng. "Go on."
"Me?" Trembling, he took it, afraid refusal would earn him a whack too.
"Stand back and protect your sister." Jiuzhu rolled up her sleeves, found a large rock, and placed it on the imposter’s hands.
"Jiuzhu!" Zhou Xiao gasped. "Just tie him up! Smashing his head would... would be too gruesome!"
"Sister, what are you thinking? We’re proper folk—we don’t execute people." Jiuzhu blinked innocently. "Certain hand pressure points weaken limbs when pressed long enough." She dusted off her hands. "No rope, so this will do."
"Oh." Zhou Xiao glanced at her quaking brother, then at Jiuzhu’s rolled sleeves. Hesitantly, she inched closer and tugged Jiuzhu’s sleeve.
"Elder Sister Zhou?" Jiuzhu noticed Zhou Xiao clutching at her sleeve. Taking out a handkerchief to wipe her hands, she then wrapped an arm around Zhou Xiao's shoulder in reassurance. "Don't be afraid. There are many of us here. This temple is small, the conditions poor, and there are no extra dwellings. By my estimation, even if there are villains hiding here, there couldn’t be more than five."
The Scar-faced Man had just emerged from the backyard when the guards spotted him. Sensing trouble, he turned and bolted.
"Stop!" The guards immediately gave chase.
With only one path leading down the mountain, the Scar-faced Man had nowhere to flee. Cornered against a wall, he clenched his dagger in frustration. "I’ve done so much for the Zheng family—all I wanted was to live under a false name. Why must they be so ruthless, hunting me down like this?"
Though the guards didn’t understand the fake monk’s words, they remained silent in front of their young masters and mistresses.
"You risk your lives serving your masters, just as I once did," the Scar-faced Man sneered, pointing his dagger at them. "Today, you kill me. Tomorrow, the Zheng family will silence you too—just to protect themselves."
The Zheng family?
Zhou Shucheng’s heart tightened. Something about this situation felt off. Had they stumbled into some kind of secret affair?
No—absolutely no one could be allowed to speak further. In the capital, knowing the wrong secret was dangerous.
"Silence!" Zhou Shucheng barked sharply. "What nonsense about the Zheng family or the Zhou family? You’re nothing but a criminal! Confess now—do you have accomplices? I’ve already sent for the authorities!"
"You’re not from the Zheng family?" The Scar-faced Man turned toward the voice and recognized the speaker.
Young Master Zhou?
Why was the son of a Vice Minister not at home studying, but instead wandering deep into the mountains to pray to some Bodhisattva?
The Scar-faced Man never imagined his escape plan would be ruined by a pampered noble with too much time on his hands.
"Tie him up first," Zhou Shucheng ordered, stepping back warily as the scarred man glared at him. Gripping a wooden staff, he hurried over to Jiuzhu and shouted with forced bravado, "Don’t let him escape!"
"Young Master, we don’t have—"
"No rope? Use your belts!" Zhou Shucheng shuffled behind Jiuzhu. If the Ming girl could knock out an assailant with a stick, she could surely protect a delicate scholar like him.
A servant reluctantly undid his belt, clutching his trousers in humiliation as he hid in a corner.
Outnumbered, the Scar-faced Man was overpowered by the guards and bound shamefully with two belts.
"Just looking at you, anyone can tell you’re no good." Now that the man was restrained, Zhou Shucheng dared to step out from behind Jiuzhu. "Where are the real monks of this temple?"
The Scar-faced Man ignored him, his bloodshot eyes locked on Ming Jiuzhu instead. Why was she here?
The sight of her face brought back the humiliation he’d suffered at the hands of the capital’s authorities.
Jiuzhu recognized him too. She stood motionless, fingers brushing the golden phoenix hairpin at her temple before slowly lowering her hand.
"What are you staring at?" Zhou Shucheng mustered his courage to shield Jiuzhu and his sister. The Zheng family’s dog was truly despicable—even now, he couldn’t stop ogling young women.
"Young Master, Mistress! We found several monks tied up in the cellar," a guard reported after searching the temple.
Zhou Xiao watched the trembling monks and suddenly doubted the efficacy of their protective charms.
"Elder Sister Zhou… monks actually don’t draw talismans," Jiuzhu said gently, seeing her crestfallen expression. "But sincerity matters most. Your parents will surely be happy with the charm you bring them."
"You don’t have to console me. I understand." Zhou Xiao patted Jiuzhu’s hand. "I shouldn’t have believed those rumors and dragged you and my brother all this way just to encounter fake monks."
"Not at all." Jiuzhu shook her head. "If you hadn’t insisted on coming, we wouldn’t have caught these villains or rescued the monks. Your determination saved lives—that’s truly virtuous."
"Really?" The thought lifted Zhou Xiao’s spirits. "Still, if you hadn’t noticed something odd about that fake monk, we couldn’t have helped them."
"Noble guests, if you seek protective charms, this humble monk can draw them for you," a gaunt monk offered hesitantly. "I… studied Daoist arts in my youth."
Jiuzhu turned to him. "Then why did you become a monk?"
"The abbot showed me kindness when I had no family left. So I took vows." The monk bowed. "I’ll draw as many charms as you need—no payment required."
Zhou Xiao: "…"
Suddenly, she wasn’t so keen on charms anymore.
"Elder Sister, since we’re here, let the master draw a few for you." Jiuzhu clasped her hands toward the temple’s Buddha statue. "Sincerity is the greatest blessing of all."
Persuaded, Zhou Xiao followed Zhou Shucheng to watch the ex-Daoist-turned-monk draw talismans.
Jiuzhu approached the bound Scar-faced Man, studying him closely.
Nine years had aged him greatly. Tied up and helpless on the ground, he looked like nothing more than a pitiful worm.
The fear, unease, and dread she once felt seemed to fade in this moment.
The monster who had haunted her memories now seemed so small.
The Scar-faced Man turned his face, pressing his scarred chin against the dirt. He didn’t understand Ming Jiuzhu’s gaze, but he hated it.
When she still didn’t leave, he spat out, "Miss Ming, what do you want?"
Jiuzhu tilted her head. "Nothing much. I just think you look like a worm like this."
She was mocking him!
He thrashed, succeeding only in scraping his face against the gravel. He couldn’t even touch the tip of her shoe.
"Already angry?" Jiuzhu sighed. "How petty for someone so cruel."
She stepped back as footsteps echoed from the mountain path.
The Dragon Guard had tracked the Zheng family’s fugitive to this dilapidated temple, but they never expected to find a crowd of servants—and a noble young lady—waiting outside.
"The Dragon Guard act under His Majesty’s orders to apprehend a fugitive. Please step aside, noble guests." Their commander flashed a golden badge and bowed. "Have you seen two suspicious men?"
"Yes." Jiuzhu nodded.
"Where?" The commander’s hand rested on his sword hilt.
Jiuzhu pointed at the Scar-faced Man trussed with belts, then at the fake monk pinned under a rock. "There. And there."
The Dragon Guard stared at the two captives in silence.
The Commander of the Dragon Guard studied Jiuzhu and cupped his hands again. "Might I ask who the noble lady is?"
"I am the daughter of Vice Minister Ming of the Ministry of Rites," Jiuzhu returned the gesture. "These two men were impersonating monks and were caught by us, so we had our guards subdue them. Little did we know they were fugitives sought by His Majesty. In that case, we shall leave them to your handling."
"So it is County Mistress Ming. This humble general has been discourteous." The commander's expression shifted slightly as he bowed deeply. "I hope the County Mistress was not frightened?"
"Thank you for your concern, General. With our guards present, we were unharmed." Jiuzhu watched as two Dragon Guards carried away the stone and shackled the impostor monks' hands and feet. She took two steps back. "After you, General."
The commander glanced at the Zhou siblings inside the temple. "These two are involved in a major court case. I must ask the County Mistress and the other two noble guests to keep today’s events confidential and not speak of them to others."
"You have my word. I will relay this to them."
"My gratitude, County Mistress." The commander saluted again before swiftly leading the Dragon Guards and the prisoners away.
Jiuzhu stood at the end of the path, watching the Dragon Guards depart. The wind lifted the silk shawl draped over her shoulders, sending it fluttering behind her, light and ethereal.
---
"Your Majesty." Liu Zhongbao helped Emperor Longfeng remove his imperial crown after court and spoke softly, "The fleeing servants of the Zheng family have been captured by the Dragon Guards."
"So quickly?" The Emperor calculated the time—less than three hours had passed since his order.
"The commander reported that the culprits had already been apprehended when they arrived," Liu Zhongbao said carefully as he removed the dragon-patterned jade pendant. "They owe much to County Mistress Ming's assistance."
Emperor Longfeng looked at him with amusement. "Go to the Dragon Guards and investigate what these two have done in the past."
"At once, Your Majesty." Liu Zhongbao placed the jade pendant into a box. "Sire, these past few days, the families of the various princess consorts have been sending gifts into the palace."
Only Prince Chen, with no maternal relatives, had received nothing.
"I see you’re here to plead benefits for Duqing." Emperor Longfeng chuckled. "Arrange for Ming Jingzhou to be summoned to the palace—tell him it’s to instruct Prince Chen."
"This servant obeys Your Majesty’s decree." Liu Zhongbao bowed with a smile. "I take my leave."
Exiting the main hall of Taiyang Palace, he took the horsetail whisk handed to him by a young eunuch and flicked it. "Go to the Ministry of Rites and escort Vice Minister Ming into the palace. Be courteous—do not offend him."
"Rest assured, Grandfather Liu. This humble servant will handle it flawlessly." The young eunuch, delighted with the errand, hurried off.
Liu Zhongbao headed straight for the Dragon Guards’ dungeon, where the two Zheng servants were held in separate cells.
"L-Liu…" The Scar-faced Man stammered in terror upon recognizing him.
Why was the Emperor’s chief eunuch here?!
"My, my. You seem familiar with this humble servant." Eunuch Liu smiled faintly. "How fortuitous—I do love catching up with acquaintances. Today, we shall have a nice, long chat."
He tilted his head. "Before we begin, let’s loosen their skin with the comb. Tight skin makes tight lips, and tight lips don’t speak easily. Bear with us."
The Scar-faced Man and his companion were dragged out, and soon, their screams echoed through the dungeon.
Liu Zhongbao flicked his whisk and remarked to the commander, "It seems the young officer handling the comb today has quite the skilled hand."
The commander grinned. "With Your Excellency present, the men naturally wanted to show their best."
The two exchanged smiles as if standing amidst serene mountains and rivers, rather than a dungeon filled with agonized cries.
---
Prince Chen reclined on a rocking chair in his courtyard, lazily watching eunuchs and maids carry bundles into Prince Huai’s residence. He beckoned his attendant. "Is Prince Huai moving house?"
"Your Highness, these are gifts sent by Princess Huai’s family," the eunuch replied. "A token of their affection for their daughter."
The day before, it had been the families of Princess Consort Qi and Princess Consort An. Today, it was Princess Huai and Princess Consort Jing. The endless commotion left no peace.
Rolling onto his side, Prince Chen scoffed. As imperial princes, did they need gifts from their wives’ families?
"Your Highness, Vice Minister Ming of the Ministry of Rites has arrived. Will you receive him?"
Ming Jingzhou was here?
Prince Chen sat up. "See him!"
Glancing at his rocking chair, he called for servants. "Take this away and bring a tea table and chairs. And fetch some proper books from my study."
When Ming Jingzhou entered the gates of Zhangliu Palace and stepped into Prince Chen’s courtyard, he was greeted by the sight of the handsome prince immersed in scholarly reading.
"Your servant greets Your Highness."
"No need for formalities, Vice Minister Ming." Prince Chen set down his book and helped him up. "Please, take a seat."
"My thanks." Ming Jingzhou sat without protest. Noticing the book on the table, he accepted the tea served by a eunuch. "It gladdens me to see Your Highness so diligent."
"Though I reside in the palace, I dare not waste my days." Prince Chen lied without blinking. "To what do I owe the honor of your visit today?"
"I come for two reasons. First, by His Majesty’s decree, to instruct Your Highness on the affairs of the Ministry of Rites. Second, to deliver this." Ming Jingzhou placed a scroll case on the table.
"What is this?" Prince Chen eyed the case curiously.
"A painting from my daughter—*Plum Blossoms in Snow*." Ming Jingzhou sipped his tea. "Would Your Highness care to see if it pleases you?"
So Ming Jiuzhu had finally finished her snowscape?
Prince Chen unrolled the scroll and, upon seeing the artwork that bore little resemblance to its title, let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling with warmth.
"My thanks, Vice Minister Ming." He carefully rolled it back up. "I shall treasure Jiuzhu’s labor of love."
The painting was… unconventional, but upon closer inspection, it held a certain charm.
At the very least, the painter was charming.
"I am glad it meets Your Highness’s favor." Ming Jingzhou smiled. "My daughter will be overjoyed to hear you like it."
He then retrieved several books from his sleeve. "As an outsider, I cannot enter the palace frequently. Please study and copy these for now. I shall bring more during my next visit."
Prince Chen: "..."
"Your Highness?" Ming Jingzhou’s smile remained benign.
"Rest assured, Vice Minister. I shall read and copy them diligently." Prince Chen forced a smile. "Your efforts are appreciated."
"Not at all." Ming Jingzhou’s tone was gentle. "Your Highness’s happiness is reward enough."
Prince Chen smiled back—brightly.
---
A day later, every prince in Zhangliu Palace knew that Prince Chen had received a painting from his future bride.
Seated around a hotpot in Prince Qi’s quarters, the four brothers discussed the matter.
"County Mistress Ming truly lives up to the Ming family’s reputation—her artistry is unparalleled," Prince Huai remarked.
"Naturally." Prince Chen smiled. "A pity the Mings only paint for family and spouses. Otherwise, I might have asked Vice Minister Ming to create one for each of you."
"What a shame." Prince An sighed. "Might I have the honor of viewing County Mistress Ming’s work, Fifth Brother?"
Prince Chen’s chopsticks paused mid-air. "Perhaps… another time."
"Another time" was royal code for "never." And they all knew it.
Prince An let out a sigh, his curiosity growing even stronger toward the Ming family’s paintings.
Prince Qi lay on the bed, refusing to even glance at the four people chatting and eating hot pot.
Three days—three whole days!
They still hadn’t grown tired of the hot pot, but the scent of it had already permeated every corner of the room he was staying in.
Before the meal was even finished, Liu Zhongbao entered the room, followed by a group of strong eunuchs.
"Your Highnesses," Liu Zhongbao bowed. "His Majesty summons you to Taiyang Palace at once."
Prince Chen set down his chopsticks. On Liu Zhongbao’s person, he detected a faint, earthy dampness—and something else… the metallic tang of blood.
"Due to Prince Qi’s injuries, the attendants will carry His Highness there," Liu Zhongbao said, cupping his hands respectfully toward Prince Qi. "We beg Your Highness’s understanding."
