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As night fell, Fu Yunxi was wiping the bronze short sword that she never parted with in her study.

The sword reflected his furrowed brows and the blood-red moon outside the window.

The scene of Zhuang Hanyan's wedding three days ago was still vivid in his mind. When she walked towards Su Ning in her wedding dress, the golden phoenix hairpin in her hair made his eyes hurt.

Fu Yunxi's attendant called softly from outside the door, "My lord, Lady Zhuang... the wife of the Earl of Zhongqin has arrived."

Fu Yunxi saw herself in the bronze mirror and instantly straightened her back.

He quickly sheathed his short sword, his fingertips lingering for a moment on the white jade pendant on the tassel.

That was a betrothal gift from the Zhuang family and the Fu family twenty years ago.

"Please go to the flower hall." His voice was unusually calm.

Zhuang Hanyan stood by the window, her wedding dress now changed into a plain-colored ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress), only the gold hairpin in her hair still shone brightly.

Hearing footsteps, she turned around, bringing with her a faint medicinal fragrance—the calming incense that Ruan Xiwen used year-round.

Zhuang Hanyan lowered her eyelashes as she bowed, "Lord Fu, I agree to your proposal."

Fu Yunxi noticed that her left hand was always pressed against her cuff, where the outline of a silver key was faintly visible.

He gestured for the servants to leave, then personally poured a cup of Xueya tea and pushed it towards her: "Madam Su, does the Earl of Zhongqin know you are here?"

“He supports me more than anyone else in finding out the truth.” Zhuang Hanyan took the teacup but did not drink it. Suddenly, she looked up and stared directly at him. “But today I want to ask Lord Fu three questions first. I hope you will remember your promise and not lie.”

The shadow of the old locust tree outside the window cuts obliquely into the flower hall, dividing Fu Yunxi's face into two halves of light and shadow.

He gazed at the tea leaves floating in the tea soup and asked, "May I ask..."

"First question: Was your marriage to my elder sister something you did willingly?"

Fu Yunxi tapped her fingertips on the table three times with a muffled sound: "It was not my wish! Because I am usually very busy and rarely eat at home, my mother was always worried about me and urged me to marry your sister Zhuang Yuqin as soon as possible. Zhuang Yuqin is the legitimate daughter, kind-hearted and with a great demeanor. My second aunt and mother persuaded me together, hoping that I could have an heir as soon as possible. So I had no choice but to agree to the marriage."

"My second question is, why are you so fixated on the past affairs of the bookmakers?"

The bronze sword sheath suddenly slipped off the table and crashed to the ground with a clang.

Fu Yunxi bent down to pick it up, and an old scar on the back of her neck was revealed from her collar: "Twenty years ago, on the night of the Pei Party case, I saw Zhuang Shiyang at the Pei residence."

When he straightened up, his eyes were bloodshot and terrifying. "That's the sound his jade pendant made when it hit the bronze cauldron."

The silver key in Zhuang Hanyan's sleeve suddenly became scalding hot.

She remembered that her father did indeed have a piece of mutton-fat jade pendant that he never parted with, and the sound it made when struck was exceptionally clear and melodious.

"One last question," her voice trembled, "What exactly is your relationship with that Pei Dafu?"

The flower hall fell into a deathly silence.

In the distance, a night watchman struck his clapper, startling a nest of swallows under the eaves.

Fu Yunxi suddenly loosened her belt, and her inner garment slipped down to her waist, revealing the hideous tattoo mark on her back—the "rebellion" character brand had already turned black.

“Adopted son.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Like your father, he is Pei Dafu’s adopted son.”

Zhuang Hanyan dropped her teacup, and shards of porcelain flew onto her skirt.

She recalled her mother's words at the execution ground, "You've ruined my plans," and only now did she understand their deeper meaning.

It turns out everyone was putting on a show, but she was the only one kept in the dark.

"So, the Soul-Locking Incense..."

“It is indeed a secret recipe of the Pei family.” Fu Yunxi straightened her clothes. “Back then, my adoptive father used it to control the court officials, but Zhuang Shiyang used it to deal with his biological father.”

"what?"

"Madam Su, do you know that on the day the old master died suddenly, Zhuang Shiyang stayed in the ancestral hall for a full three hours?"

"This……"

The night wind swept through the hall, extinguishing half the candlelight.

In the darkness, Zhuang Hanyan felt something cold being placed into her palm—it was the bronze short sword.

"Seven days from now, at midnight, take your mother to the back alley of the City God Temple." Fu Yunxi's breath brushed against her ear. "There you will find the divorce papers you want, as well as something that will bring your father to ruin."

When Zhuang Hanyan left, she discovered that the carriage of the Marquis of Zhongqin's mansion had been parked outside the Fu mansion at some point.

Suning lifted the car curtain, toying with an exquisite gilded box in his hand.

"Have you finished talking, Madam?" He smiled and handed over the box. "It's ambergris I just got; I thought you'd like it."

"Thank you."

Inside the carriage, Zhuang Hanyan stroked the patterns on the silver key.

As the carriage passed the former site of the Zhuang family mansion, she suddenly asked, "Husband, have you ever heard of 'Fu Shou Quan' (meaning 'complete fortune and longevity')?"

Su Ning's fingers paused, and the gilded box clicked softly: "I know! It's said to be some imperial cuisine from a previous dynasty, requiring 'Cold Pool Fragrance' aged for ten years for seasoning. It's said..."

He looked out the window meaningfully, "That persistent Pei Dafu loves this dish the most."

"Husband, how do you know so much?"

"Otherwise, how can one become a demon?"

"I want to find out everything on my own."

"I understand! But things are too complicated for you bookmakers, so you'd better be prepared."

"Thank you! My husband, I will."

……

That night, Zhuang Shiyang sat alone in his study, with the Fu Shou Quan (a traditional Chinese gift) sent by Zhou Ruyin in front of him.

When the jade chopsticks pry open the abalone, a small bamboo tube hidden underneath is revealed.

The note contained only five words: "See you at Laojiao. Advisor."

His face turned deathly pale instantly.

Huang Wei held the official position of Councilor, but that person was clearly not already dead at Fu Yunxi's hands.
At dawn, Zhuang Shiyang, dressed in eunuch attire, slipped out through the side door.

The dilapidated temple was covered with cobwebs, and moonlight shone through the broken tiles onto the offering table, where half a jar of Cold Pool Incense sat.

"It's time to hand over the gold and silver from your godfather." A lame man emerged from the shadows, wearing a black eyepatch over his left eye.

Zhuang Shiyang stumbled back two steps and bumped into the incense burner: "Brother Huang? Didn't Fu Yunxi clearly kill you already?"

"Lord Fu's swordsmanship is excellent, but unfortunately, he's not ruthless enough." Huang Wei grinned, revealing a mouthful of gold teeth. "Unlike you, Brother Zhuang, who would even send your own daughter as bait."

Suddenly the temple doors opened, and Zhuang Hanyan entered, sword in hand.

Zhuang Shiyang had already realized that this was a trap.

Zhuang Hanyan angrily pointed the tip of her sword directly at Huang Wei's throat: "Were you involved in the massacre of the Ruan family three years ago?"

Fu Yunxi's voice came from the rafters: "Isn't Councilor Huang's specialty for forging secret letters of treason?"

As he rolled down, the bronze sword was already pressed against Zhuang Shiyang's back, "just like what Lord Zhuang did to Imperial Censor Ruan back then."

Zhuang Shiyang suddenly burst into wild laughter, and a poisoned dagger slid out from his sleeve: "My good daughter, do you really think Fu Yunxi is investigating the case for you?"

The dagger was hurled at the earthenware urn hanging from the beam. "He's looking for the secret accounts of the Pei faction!"

The earthenware jar shattered, and countless account books flew out like snowflakes.

As Fu Yunxi lunged to snatch it, Huang Wei's hidden arrow was already aimed at Zhuang Hanyan's heart.

At the critical moment, a flash of silver light appeared, and Su Ning suddenly appeared and used his sword to cut the hidden arrow in two.

"Madam has been frightened." Su Ning put her arm around Zhuang Hanyan's shoulder, but sneered at Fu Yunxi, "Lord Fu's performance was far worse than your father's."

Moonlight illuminated the account books scattered on the ground, one page of which bore a dried, bloody fingerprint. This was the "evidence" that Zhuang Shiyang had used to report the Ruan family years ago.

When Zhuang Hanyan bent down to pick it up, she noticed a line of small print on the back: "Witness: Fu Mingyuan".

She suddenly looked up at Fu Yunxi: "Lord Fu, your father was the censor who handled my maternal grandfather's case back then?"

Fu Yunxi's sword fell to the ground with a clang.

Suddenly, the sound of orderly footsteps came from outside the temple; the torches of the Five Cities Garrison illuminated the night sky.

"Hurry!" Fu Yunxi urged Su Ning and Zhuang Hanyan anxiously, "Mrs. Su, your mother's divorce papers are..."

Suddenly, Huang Wei's gold tooth spewed out a poison needle, and Fu Yunxi turned around and stood in front of Zhuang Hanyan.

As the needle pierced his throat, Zhuang Shiyang had already torn open the secret passage under the offering table.

Su Ning picked up the unconscious Zhuang Hanyan and leaped onto the roof. The last thing he saw was Fu Yunxi clinging tightly to Huang Wei as they rolled into the sea of ​​fire, clutching a half-page of a blood-stained ledger in her hand.

Raindrops, carrying the chill of early autumn, pattered against the windowpanes. Zhuang Hanyan huddled on the daybed in the west wing of the Zhongqin Earl's mansion, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the wax seal on the edge of the divorce papers.

Everything that happened in the dilapidated temple three hours ago still flashed before my eyes, and I could still see Fu Yunxi clinging tightly to Councilor Huang even with a poison needle stuck in her throat.

The venomous look in Zhuang Shiyang's eyes before he disappeared into the secret passage, and the blackened bloody fingerprints on the ledgers scattered on the ground.

“Madam.” Chai Jing came in carrying ginger soup and exclaimed when he saw her bare feet on the ground, “How could you…” “A barefoot ghost reincarnated, isn’t that right?” Zhuang Hanyan suddenly chuckled, but tears fell onto the sandalwood floor. “That’s what my father used to promote.”

Chai Jing's hands trembled so much that he could barely hold the bowl.

She recalled the swaddling clothes she had seen in Madam Ruan's courtyard that day, with dried bloodstains forming eerie runes on them.

"Your mother..."

"Mother can walk now." Zhuang Hanyan looked out the window at the rain, recalling the way Ruan Xiwen walked into the study with her cane.

The woman who was always confined to a wheelchair straightened her back in front of Zhuang Shiyang, like a sword drawn from its sheath.

Amidst the sound of rain, the cracking of porcelain echoed. Chai Jing peered out and gasped, covering his mouth in shock: "Lord Fu is kneeling outside the courtyard gate!"

Zhuang Hanyan dug her fingertips into her palm.

Through the rain curtain, she saw Fu Yunxi kneeling on the bluestone slab, soaked to the bone, with a broken wine jar at her feet.

The object he held aloft gleamed coldly in the rain; it was the bronze dagger he had given her that night.

"Should we send him away?" Chai Jing asked in a low voice.

“No need.” Zhuang Hanyan turned around and drew the curtain. “The speed at which someone dies from being rained on is nothing compared to Councilor Huang’s poison.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the courtyard gate was suddenly kicked open.

Su Ning strode over, holding an oil-paper umbrella. When he lifted the edge of the umbrella, his gloomy face was revealed.

He bent down and said something to Fu Yunxi, who suddenly jumped up and grabbed his collar.

The two figures fought for a while in the rain, and finally Fu Yunxi was hit in the abdomen by Su Ning's elbow and curled up in a puddle.

"Husband!" Zhuang Hanyan rushed out the door, her gauze dress immediately soaked by the rain.

Su Ning shoved Fu Yunxi's collar aside, pulled out a small gilded box from his pocket, and tossed it over: "The antidote. Besides the Pei family's secret recipe, only the palace has Huang Wei's poison."

Fu Yunxi coughed up blood and looked up, her gaze meeting Zhuang Hanyan's through the rain.

His lips moved a few times, and he suddenly tore open his shirt to reveal the brand on his chest.

That wasn't the character for "rebellion" used in tattooing punishment, but rather the character for "Ruan" that had been burned and deformed.

"Twenty years ago..." His voice was hoarse, "Censor Ruan saved three children from the imperial prison..."

Zhuang Hanyan was struck dumb.

She remembered that her mother had a similar scar on her lower back, shaped like a crescent moon.

Then Su Ning and Zhuang Hanyan ushered Fu Yunxi into the warm pavilion.

The charcoal brazier crackled and popped inside the warm room.

Fu Yunxi, wrapped in a blanket, still couldn't stop trembling, her fingers tapping out a broken rhythm on the teacup.

It was Zhuang Shiyang's reaction when he heard the "sound of a bronze cauldron" in the dilapidated temple that day.

“Madam Su, back then, in the Pei family dungeon…” Fu Yunxi’s gaze fell on the golden phoenix hairpin in Zhuang Hanyan’s hair, “three children were imprisoned there. Me, Huang Wei’s son, and…”

He suddenly coughed violently, blood seeping between his fingers. "Your uncle's orphan."

Zhuang Hanyan spilled the ginger soup in her hand onto her skirt.

My mother never mentioned that there were any descendants of the Ruan family still alive.

"Zhuang Shiyang used that child's life to blackmail Huang Wei into forging a secret letter." Fu Yunxi suddenly grabbed her wrist. "Your mother's legs weren't broken by the Zhuang family; she was protecting us in prison..."

A thunderclap boomed outside the window.

Su Ning suddenly sneered: "What a story of loyalty, filial piety, and righteousness! Did Lord Fu approach my wife for revenge or for a secret account?"

Fu Yunxi's pupils suddenly contracted.

He trembled as he pulled half a blood-stained ledger from his pocket: "For this."

The yellowed pages clearly state: "[In the twelfth month of the twelfth year of Jinghe, Zhuang Shiyang presented ten jars of incense from Hantan in exchange for a woman surnamed Ruan as his wife]."

"The fragrance of the cold pool..." Zhuang Hanyan suddenly stood up, "So, blessings and longevity are complete..."

“It’s a secret signal for recognizing relatives.” Fu Yunxi smiled bitterly. “If Zhuang Shiyang had been willing to taste a bite of the dish Zhou Ruyin gave him that day, he would have known…”

Before he could finish speaking, the sound of rapid hoofbeats suddenly came from outside the courtyard.

Covered in blood, Granny Chen tumbled off her horse, clutching a broken hairpin in her hand: "Miss! Something terrible has happened! Madam... Madam has been kidnapped by Concubine Zhou's men!"

Zhuang Hanyan's vision went black.

That broken hairpin was the one she had personally put on her mother's hair this morning; a silver key was hidden in a secret compartment at the tip of the hairpin.

In the rain, three horses charged into the Zhongqin Earl's mansion one after another.

Zhuang Hanyan's white horse was the first to burst through the side gate of the Zhuang mansion, where it bumped into Zhou Ruyin directing the old women to move boxes onto the carriage.

"Where is my mother?" The clang of the drawn sword startled the birds roosting on the eaves.

Zhou Ruyin chuckled softly, touching her temple: "My sister said she was going to find Lord Yuwen, so of course I..."

A flash of cold light, and Zhuang Hanyan's sword tip had already pierced the skin at her throat: "I'll ask you one more time, where is he?"

“The woodshed…” Zhou Ruyin collapsed to the ground, her fine clothes soaked with mud and water. “But…but she did it voluntarily…”

The lock on the woodshed door was cleaved open by Su Ning's sword.

In the dimly lit corner, Ruan Xiwen leaned quietly against a pile of hay, her dress stained with blood up to her knees, but she clutched a half-burnt booklet tightly in her hand.

"Mother!" When Zhuang Hanyan rushed over, she found her mother had a strange smile on her lips.

“Found it…” Ruan Xiwen stuffed the booklet into her arms, “Your maternal grandfather’s diary.”

She suddenly coughed violently, her wrist, which had slipped down from her sleeve, was covered in needle marks. "That idiot Zhou Ruyin... she had no idea what she had found..."

Fu Yunxi suddenly knelt down to examine Ruan Xiwen's knees: "It's an old injury that has reopened."

When he tore off a piece of his shirt to bandage the wound, Zhuang Hanyan saw that there was also a "Ruan" mark on the back of his neck, which, together with the needle marks on her mother's wrist, formed a complete pattern.

"The mark from the imperial prison back then." Ruan Xiwen weakly raised her hand to touch Fu Yunxi's brand. "The three children... Ayun was the most stubborn; she would always shield her younger siblings from being beaten..."

Suddenly, Zhuang Shiyang's roar came from outside the courtyard: "You bitch! Hand over the roster!"

He rushed in, knife in hand, official hat askew, eyes bloodshot. "There are the late emperor's..."

Su Ning held his sword to his neck: "Lord Zhuang, you don't look like an official of the imperial court right now."

Zhuang Shiyang's knife fell to the ground with a clang.

He stared at the booklet in Ruan Xiwen's hand, then suddenly let out a laugh like an owl: "You think you've won? Your father held this back then..."

His words abruptly stopped—Fu Yunxi's bronze dagger had already pierced his shoulder blade.

“This sword is for Imperial Censor Ruan.” As Fu Yunxi turned the hilt of the sword, Zhuang Shiyang’s scream startled the birds into flight. “The next sword is for Old Master Zhuang, whom you poisoned.”

Zhuang Hanyan pressed down on his wrist: "That's enough."

She took the booklet from her mother and slowly unfolded it in front of Zhuang Shiyang. "Father, do you know what this is?"

On the yellowed pages was Zhuang Hanliang's own handwriting: "[My son Shiyang offered a poisonous plan to the Pei family, and now, after drinking the poisoned wine, he realizes he is worse than a beast.]"

"Grandfather's last words..." Zhuang Hanyan threw the booklet at Zhuang Shiyang's face, "It was never evidence of treason, it's your confession of patricide!"

I don't know when the rain stopped.

With the help of others, Ruan Xiwen stood up and struck Zhuang Shiyang's knees heavily with her cane: "This strike is for my child who died young."

She raised her staff a second time, "This time, for the goose you've slandered as a wicked child..."

Amidst the swirling shadows of the cane, Zhuang Hanyan vaguely saw her mother from fifteen years ago, the young woman who was willing to have her knees shattered to save her daughter.

Now she has finally straightened her back and returned all the humiliation she suffered throughout her life.

“Let’s go.” Ruan Xiwen finished her last stroke and leaned wearily on her shoulder. “Mother will take you to see… the real Jiangnan.”

As dusk fell, Zhuang Hanyan took one last look back at the Zhuang residence.

Zhou Ruyin was holding the unconscious Zhuang Shiyang and crying, while several old women secretly stuffed valuables into her arms.

She suddenly remembered what Fu Yunxi had said: "This capital city is like a pot of 'Fu Shou Quan' (a pot of good fortune and longevity), which looks magnificent and prosperous, but inside it has long been pickled by the fragrance of a cold pool."

Inside the carriage, Su Ning was carefully bandaging Ruan Xiwen's knee.

Zhuang Hanyan gazed at the receding city walls outside the window and asked softly, "Uncle Yuwen... is he really in Danzhou?"

A smile appeared on Ruan Xiwen's pale face: "Yes! He's there... waiting for us for many years."

Amidst the sound of wheels rolling over the official road, no one noticed Fu Yunxi standing on the city wall, clutching a blood-stained piece of clothing in her hand.

That was given to him by Councilor Huang before he died; a map was drawn on it in blood.

...(End of chapter)