Who said the eldest daughter is crazy? She's clearly a woman of high rank and influence in the

Xi Mingyuan met her eyes, which were clear and dark like black jade in the candlelight. They were imposing without anger, but the weight of that power was more chilling than any anger.

"You are a daughter of the Xi family," he said in a hoarse voice, "your surname is Xi—"

"That's why I'm standing here today." Xi Yueli interrupted him. "As long as I am the eldest daughter of the Xi family, I will protect the Xi family. I will safeguard Father's position in the Ministry of Revenue, the prestige of the Xi family, and Grandmother's dignity for you."

"I have connections in the North, and I've heard of the trade routes to Beishuo. If the Ministry of Revenue needs any means to cover its deficit, I have them. I can also help you keep your official position, Father."

Xi Mingyuan's gaze lingered on her face. "What do you have in your hand?"

"I've already cleaned up those few transactions that Father handled for you," Xi Yueli said casually.

"I've sealed off the accounts hidden away; no one will dig them up again. But if Father ever does something like this again, he'd better ask me first. I don't stop Father from making money, but I don't want to wake up one day to find the Censorate has impeached you."

Xi Mingyuan looked at her, feeling as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.

Even Fang Shi was unaware of the few money transactions he handled. He thought only heaven, earth, and he knew, but this daughter casually pointed it out with a single sentence. Not only did she know, she also cleaned up the mess for him.

What does this mean? It means that she has a sufficient intelligence network to find traces of the Ministry of Revenue officials' private accounting, and also has sufficient means to nip these traces in the bud.

He suddenly realized that the person standing in front of him was no longer that crazy, sickly woman. He couldn't see through what she was holding in her hands or who was standing behind her.

"...What do you want?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

Xi Yueli lowered her eyes, pressed the stack of files in her sleeve again, and lowered her voice slightly.

"I don't want anything. I just want to tell Father: From now on, I am the eldest daughter of the Xi family. I will do what the eldest daughter should do, but everything I do will not require Father's approval, Grandmother's intervention, or Fang Shi's approval."

She raised her eyes, which shone brightly in the candlelight: "I am Xi Yue Li. I accepted all your previous treatment of me as a madwoman, an outcast, and a laughingstock. But from this day forward, anyone who lays a finger on my head will suffer the same fate as Xi Yue Fu."

The candle flame flickered and a flame burst, causing Xi Mingyuan to tremble slightly in his chair.

Xi Yueli took a half step back and bowed slightly: "Father, please rest early. There will be no more news from the county government tomorrow, and your official position is secure. I will speak to Grandmother; you don't need to worry about it."

She turned and walked towards the door, pausing before stepping over the threshold, turning her head slightly, her voice carrying back through the half-open door:

"Father, you decide on Fang's matter yourself. She's confined to the Buddhist hall for seven days. Whether you release her after seven days or keep her locked up, I won't interfere. But if she harbors any further thoughts, next time it won't be as simple as just confinement."

The door closed behind her, and the sound of footsteps faded into the distance along the corridor.

Xi Mingyuan sat alone in his study, the lamp on his desk still lit, casting his long, thin, and hunched shadow on the wall behind him.

He slowly leaned back in his chair, and after a long while, he let out a long breath, which contained a low, hoarse sob.

As Xi Yueli walked back to Jinxian Courtyard through the moon gate, the night wind blew her stray hairs across her forehead and then gathered them back up. She looked up at the narrow strip of sky above her, cut into strips by the eaves. The moon was pale and the stars were sparse, just the same sky she had seen on the stone steps of Wanshi Tower the night before.

She suddenly felt that the weight on her chest, which had been pressing down for so long, loosened slightly, as if half of a heavy stone had been removed from her chest, and she could still bear the remaining weight.

When she pushed open the door of Jinxian Courtyard, Qingdai was squatting under the eaves waiting for her, holding the smoky blue cloak in her arms. Seeing her return, she rushed towards her: "Miss! Where have you been! This servant—"

"It's alright." Xi Yueli took the cloak and draped it over her arm, then walked into the house. "I need to boil water for a bath; I have things to do tomorrow."

Qingdai responded and ran off, her footsteps clattering away into the night.

Xi Yueli stood by the window, took out the stack of files from her sleeve and placed them on the table, then touched the cold, sharp edges of the black iron token.

She stared at them for a long time, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the outlines of the words.

When she traced it for the third time, she suddenly felt a familiar touch under her fingertips, as if it had been rubbed a thousand times, like she had held the token in her palm day and night and rubbed it until the edges of the black iron were dulled.

But she doesn't remember at all.

The composure he displayed while negotiating with the assassin in the Tranquil Pavilion, the familiarity with which his fingers automatically touched the dents on the table while flipping through the files in the Myriad Affairs Building, and the effortless "Get up" he uttered when facing Liu San Niang.

They are all the same person, but where is that person's physical body? Has it vanished?

Or is it that the "pavilion master" was her from beginning to end, but someone used some means to extract her soul from her original body and stuff it into this frail body?

She opened her eyes and looked at the token on the table, then recalled the secret letters that kept popping into her mind.

The timing of those letters was always perfect; before Fang hired a hitman, she "saw" Zhang Mama's handwriting.

Before Xi Yuefu went to the Deng residence, she "saw" the scene of the Deng residence refusing to see her at the back gate.

Before Liu San Niang knelt before her, the note with the word "pretend" under her pillow had already paved the way for her.

The contents of those secret letters were precise and timely, as if an all-knowing intelligence network was watching every corner for her.

Xi Yueli put the token back under her pillow, blew out the lamp and lay down. She looked at the top of the tent and slowly exhaled in the darkness. Since Wan Shi Lou collects all the intelligence, it must also collect the Pavilion Master's own.

The following evening, Xi Yueli left the mansion again. This time she didn't pretend to be crazy; she simply told her grandmother that she was "going out for a walk." The old lady glanced at her and nodded without asking any questions.

She changed into an inconspicuous dark gray dress and went around from the back alley to the blacksmith shop in the south of the city.

Liu San Niang was not there; instead, the old man from the blacksmith shop from that night came out to greet her. Xi Yue Li was led into the Wan Shi Lou and walked straight to the row of files on the west wall, her gaze stopping on the shelf at the top.

There were several books with unusual covers stacked there, their corners wrapped in sheet metal, as if they had been specially reinforced.

"Bring those books down."

The old man brought a ladder and took down the tin book, which contained the chronicles of the Dark Pavilion. She skipped the first few dozen pages and turned directly to the last chapter.

"In the autumn of the Jiazi year, the Pavilion Master went out and disappeared with his token. The affairs of the Pavilion are temporarily managed by the three elders."

Xi Yueli put the tin book back on the shelf and turned to leave. A new mystery weighed heavily on her heart; more pressing than Fang Shi or her father was the question of who she really was.

When she walked to the courtyard on the first floor, there was another person in the dusty blacksmith shop.

The man sat on a dilapidated wooden chair, his dark blue brocade robe standing out awkwardly among the scrap iron and coal dust in the room. He had one leg bent, his elbow resting on his knee, and he was looking down at the farm tools on the ground, his posture as relaxed as if he were reading a book in his own study.

When Helian Jing's gaze fell on her face, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

"You're here?" he said casually, as if he had bumped into an acquaintance in a teahouse.

Xi Yueli stood in the courtyard, her heart sinking slightly, but her expression remained unchanged: "What are you doing here, Your Highness?"