Chapter 93

Keep waiting. That was Nan Yi’s next task.

Song Muchuan was orchestrating the endgame plan codenamed “Nirvana.” Until that moment arrived, staying hidden and ensuring her safety was the top priority.

Life in Wangxuewu was far too comfortable, and Nan Yi dared not let her guard down. She secretly set up a wooden stake in the courtyard and practiced her martial arts to keep her body alert.

Most of the time, Nan Yi would climb to the roof of Zheyue Pavilion, where she could just see the courtyard where Xie Queshan lived. Lately, he had been spending much of his time at home.

It was as if he was deliberately toying with her, knowing someone was waiting for him to make a move. He neither met anyone nor took action, carrying on his daily life of eating, drinking, and other routines in an utterly ordinary manner. He allowed her to monitor him openly, as if this constant observation meant they were always together. Occasionally, he would look up and see her on the roof, but he would do nothing, simply standing beneath the courtyard walls as spring blossoms drifted down, gazing up at her.

This was the first spring since he had returned to his homeland after leaving that year during the vernal equinox.

Spring was beautiful, indeed.

Nan Yi even wondered, if the endgame never came... could everyone remain in this perpetual peace? No one would die, and no one would draw their blades against another.

And so, during this time of dormancy, no news was the best news.

But on this morning, when Nan Yi opened her eyes, she realized there was someone in her room. She instinctively reached for the dagger under her pillow, only to hear a familiar voice.

“Sister-in-law.”

Nan Yi was startled and sat up. “Xiao Liu?”

She quickly lifted the bed curtain and saw Xie Sui’an standing there in plain clothes, looking lost and helpless. It was drizzling outside, and her clothes were damp. Her eyes were misty, and there were a few wilted petals clinging to her hair.

“What happened?” Nan Yi’s instincts told her it was something bad.

She reached for Xie Sui’an’s hand and found it shockingly cold.

“The Prince of Ling’an... is missing.”

...

Recently, Xie Sui’an’s life had been exceedingly simple. A soft sword for killing, a meditation room for cultivation; a silent Buddha statue, and a fragile monarch.

All these incongruous elements were gathered in this small Buddha hall.

The space was tiny, the days of being confined monotonous, and there seemed no end in sight.

She had become more silent. Occasionally, when she and Xu Zhou sat in the courtyard chatting, they would carefully avoid mentioning that person. Tiptoeing around the topic, as if afraid of inadvertently reopening old wounds or causing new ones.

But crises would arise unexpectedly.

A few days ago, a drunken guard stumbled into the courtyard and accidentally saw Xu Zhou. The guard was terrified and ran to report it, but Xie Sui’an raised her sword and killed him on the spot.

However, disposing of a body wasn’t an easy task. Xu Zhou helped Xie Sui’an with the job.

Digging a hole, discarding the body, and covering it with soil—they had direct, visceral contact with the land and the raw reality of life and death. That night, it began to rain, making each shovelful of dirt unbearably heavy. By the time they finished, they were covered in mud and blood, like demons crawling out of a battlefield. Xu Zhou broke down completely.

When a string is pulled too tight, it eventually snaps.

Although he had faced greater crises before and endured them, the prolonged anxiety of recent months had slowly built up, and this relatively minor incident became the final straw that broke his spirit. He sat in the rain and wept bitterly. He was no different from anyone else—just a frail, vulnerable human. He lacked exceptional courage or strategy. There was a reason why the imperial family had never favored him. Perhaps he was just a mediocre person, someone so frightened by even this situation.

He felt utterly powerless. But no one cared. And he didn’t dare show it. So many people had risked their lives for him, shedding blood and tears. How could he allow himself even the slightest hint of weakness? Who he was didn’t matter. The dynasty needed legitimacy, and so they had propped him up.

Everyone told him to wait, so he waited silently, imagining himself as a statue—emotionless and desireless. But he was, after all, just flesh and blood, breathing the polluted air of this world, eating human food, unable to cultivate a body of steel and iron.

Then Xie Xiao Liu arrived. Each time he saw her, he thought of the deceased Pang Yu. He imagined she must feel the same. Their mere existence was a source of mutual pain, yet they had to coexist and rely on each other.

He watched as the vibrant life within her gradually faded. She, too, was trapped in this cage with him.

He wanted to do something, but there was nothing he could do.

After crying his heart out, he returned to calm. As if nothing had happened, he went about his daily routine—listening to the morning and evening chimes, pacing the small courtyard. Eighty-one steps in total: one circuit clockwise, another counterclockwise. Imagining it as the eighty-one tribulations, wondering when the final one would come.

And then, just a few days later, Xu Zhou suddenly vanished. In this small courtyard where everything was visible at a glance, surrounded by an inescapable net, a living, breathing man had disappeared right under their noses.

Xie Sui’an quickly discovered the path he had taken to escape.

That day was for delivering supplies and disposing of slop. Xu Zhou had waited in the kitchen early that morning, knocked someone out, taken their clothes, and walked out carrying a slop bucket.

A nondescript little servant left Wangxuewu unnoticed in the dim light of dawn. No one even saw where he went.

Xie Suian frantically searched the nearby area but couldn’t find anyone. Out of options, she came to seek Nan Yi’s help.

This was a big deal, something that had to be discussed with Song Muchuan. Nan Yi made a decisive decision, disguising Xie Suian as a maid to keep her by her side. Then, she hurriedly pulled Xie Qin out of bed, instructing him to quickly prepare some academic questions that needed answers from Mr. Song. She had a maid help him get dressed and shoved him into the carriage.

Song Muchuan was just about to head to the Ship Bureau when he was intercepted at his courtyard gate by the “studious” Xie Qin.

While this distraction played out, Nan Yi quickly explained the situation to Song Muchuan. Even someone as composed and confident as him showed a trace of anxiety upon hearing the news.

The streets were heavily monitored at the moment; even entering and exiting the neighborhoods required inspection of identity passes. Anyone deemed suspicious would be detained on the spot.

This matter couldn’t be made public. Searching the entire city would trigger uncontrollable consequences.

Song Muchuan quickly calculated the time Linnan Wang had left, the possible routes he might take, and estimated which neighborhoods he might have reached by now.

He marked out a rough search area. Xie Suian and Nan Yi set out to search, while Song Muchuan sent Ah Chi to notify Liang Da and Jiu Niang, who were extremely familiar with the city’s layout and would undoubtedly be of great help.

Finally, Song Muchuan spoke to Xie Suian privately.

“Think carefully—why did His Highness leave? That is the key to finding him.”

Xu Zhou had disguised himself in a servant’s clothes and left Wangxue Wu, pushing a cart used for disposing of food scraps. This route allowed him to leave the neighborhood without raising suspicion.

However, as he passed through the next neighborhood, he was stopped at the gate by soldiers for questioning. Fortunately, the servant’s clothes he wore carried an identity pass, and the soldiers, not suspecting anything, merely glanced at it before letting him through.

Yet, one of the soldiers felt something was off. He found the servant’s back view familiar but couldn’t immediately place it. The way the man pushed the cart seemed unpracticed, not like someone accustomed to such labor. Growing suspicious, he observed the figure longer.

Before he could act, a change of guard arrived. Distracted by the handover, the soldier let the matter drop momentarily. As he glanced at a set of wanted posters, however, one of the images caught his eye—it was of Linnan Wang.

Suddenly, the soldier connected the dots. That familiar figure earlier bore a striking resemblance to the person in the wanted poster.

Panicking, he reported it immediately, but his captain didn’t believe him and mocked him for being desperate for recognition. The captain argued that Linnan Wang was securely guarded by the Secret Candle Bureau and couldn’t possibly be pushing a scrap cart on the streets.

But the soldier couldn’t shake his suspicion. He decided to escalate the matter, believing a citywide manhunt was necessary. With the cart’s slow speed, the person couldn’t have gotten far.

As he hurried forward to track the figure, he bumped into someone head-on.

This morning, Xie Que Shan noticed that there had been no sound of morning training from the courtyard next door, which struck him as unusual. During breakfast, he also learned that Nan Yi had left early with Xie Qin to consult Song Muchuan about academic questions. Realizing that something must have happened—something urgent and troublesome—he grew concerned.

For several days, he had been feigning illness and avoiding appearances in front of the Qi officials. Hu Sha had recently taken down Wanyan Jun and was still highly suspicious of him. The best course of action was to lie low and avoid giving anyone an excuse to target him. Yet today, he had to venture out to find out what was going on.

On his way to the military headquarters, he encountered a Qi soldier rushing in his direction.

The soldier lit up upon seeing Xie Que Shan and eagerly reported, “My lord, I just saw someone who resembles Linnan Wang heading toward Tongji Fang. Please give the order to dispatch troops to capture him!”

Xie Que Shan’s face displayed mild surprise, but cold sweat broke out on his back.

“Are you certain?”

“I swear on my life! General Hu Sha has ordered us that it is better to mistakenly kill a thousand than let one go. That person bore a striking resemblance to Linnan Wang and was acting suspiciously. Even if it’s not him, there must be something wrong!”

Xie Que Shan paused, then asked, “Does anyone else know of this?”

“I reported it to the captain, but he dismissed it. I thought this was too important to let go, so I came directly to you.”

“Very well. You will take charge of this matter. Follow me to deploy soldiers.”

The soldier’s face lit up with joy. “Yes, sir!”

Xie Que Shan led him into a narrow alley, where they ventured deeper and deeper.

Nan Yi and Xie Suian had reached Tongji Fang. They asked around and learned that not long ago, a servant pushing a cart had hurried through, almost overturning it in his haste.

Following the directions provided, the two found an abandoned cart in a narrow alley.

But the person was gone.

They had arrived too late and failed to catch up to Xu Zhou.

Just as the two began to panic, they heard commotion coming from a neighboring street. They exchanged a glance and rushed over.

A Qi soldier’s corpse lay on the ground, his throat slit. The body had been thrown from a height, causing a huge uproar.

A crowd of townsfolk surrounded the scene, their faces filled with shock. Some whispered to one another, pointing at the body, while a few bold onlookers seemed to take grim satisfaction in the event. Qi soldiers quickly arrived to secure the area, preparing to seal off the neighborhood.

Nan Yi instinctively felt that something was off. It looked like a shocking crime that would undoubtedly trigger a search by the Qi soldiers. However, if their forces were all drawn here, the chances of Linnan Wang being exposed elsewhere would significantly decrease.

Someone was helping them from the shadows.

She reflexively looked up and saw Xie Que Shan leading a squad of soldiers toward them. Her heart skipped a beat, and a strong sense of foreboding washed over her.

But Xie Suian, upon seeing Xie Que Shan, immediately pulled Nan Yi away and turned to leave—they couldn’t risk being recognized, as she was supposed to be confined in the monastery.

Blending into the dispersing crowd of townsfolk, the two left the commotion behind and heaved a sigh of relief. At least, for now, Linnan Wang’s disappearance hadn’t drawn the Qi soldiers’ attention.

It seemed that Xu Zhou had a specific destination in mind.

Xie Huian couldn’t wrap his head around it. Where was he going, and why on earth was he leaving?