Chapter 22

After returning to his residence, Liu Yuanxun fell seriously ill once more.

Fortunately, this bout was far less severe than the last. Though still bedridden, his spirits were good. He could even lean against his pillows from time to time and chat with Ling Ting and the others.

Naturally, their conversation soon turned to the matter of the zither score.

“Your Highness, you were prescient like Zhuge Liang himself! You guessed it exactly!”

Ling Qing’s expression grew serious as she turned to business. “A few days ago, I noticed it. Someone had tampered with the zither score, and they’d been extremely careful. They even reattached the silk thread I had wedged under the seal exactly as it was. But they weren’t as clever as you. The thread was in the same position, but the hair I’d stuck to the bottom of the box was gone.”

The score hadn’t been placed in the Taichang Temple to lure out the culprit. Even if he stationed men to guard the box and catch the intruder, he wouldn’t uncover the person pulling the strings. No, the trap on the box was only to confirm whether those who killed Liu San were the same as those who delivered the score to him.

From what Ling Qing described, however, these were two separate groups with opposing agendas.

If it had been the same people, they would have simply wiped their tracks clean. There would have been no need to rummage through the temple repository. The fact that they came at all meant they had no idea what the score actually contained.

Liu Yuanxun had originally planned to send someone to Gaoxian County to gather information from “Boss Song,” the woman who had taken the score from Liu San. But on second thought, he decided against it.

If those people had killed Liu San and burned his mother alive, they surely wouldn’t leave any loose ends. If Boss Song knew anything, she was likely already a restless ghost in hell.

Yet the situation wasn’t entirely hopeless.

With two opposing factions at play, things became much simpler.

They lurked in the shadows while he stood in the open.

One side wanted to pass him a message; the other sought to intercept it. These two hidden lines clashed against each other, with Liu Yuanxun at the eye of the storm. Whether he acted or not wouldn’t affect the board. All he needed to do was wait passively.

His acquisition of the score meant the messenger had gained a slight edge. Liu San’s immediate murder afterward showed how closely the interceptors were pursuing them—a narrow victory at best. The fact that the interceptors had infiltrated the temple repository and examined the score proved they had been watching the prince’s residence all along.

If the interceptors were constantly monitoring the residence, had the messengers been doing the same? Why go to such lengths to evade the pursuit and deliver the score to him? What was their true purpose?

At first, Liu Yuanxun had investigated only to deliver justice for Liu San. But now that things had reached this point, he found himself genuinely intrigued.

The Taichang Temple lay just one wall away from the Imperial Palace. Scaling that wall would grant entry to the palace grounds, where defenses were naturally ironclad. To slip past the vigilant Divine Martial Guards and raid the temple repository required no small amount of martial prowess.

Anyone who could command such a skilled operative was not to be underestimated…

Liu Yuanxun gazed at the courtyard wall beyond his window and suddenly turned to Gu Lianzhao beside him. “If you were tasked with surveilling me, how would you go about it?”

Ever since Ling Qing finished recounting the zither score incident, Liu Yuanxun had fallen deep into thought. Gu Lianzhao had pondered many things as well, and he knew exactly what the prince was asking.

“If it were me,” Gu Lianzhao replied, “I wouldn’t infiltrate the residence. First, the grounds are patrolled by numerous guards, making movement difficult. Second, Lord Ling is an expert. He can sense a martial artist’s internal force from several meters away. Unless my skills far surpassed his, I’d be detected the moment I approached the prince.”

“The best approach would be to bribe one of the residence’s servants and station men at the main gate. With an inside man and outside watchers working together, we’d uncover plenty.”

Ling Qing asked curiously, “His Highness doesn’t like being attended too closely. The servants only follow at a distance. What could they possibly know?”

“A great deal,” Gu Lianzhao said, giving an example. “Take right now. If one of the yard sweepers had been bought off, he’d know you returned to the residence in a hurry, your face grave. He’d see that you called me into the room afterward, and that the four of us haven’t left for quite some time—clearly discussing important matters. If their watchers saw you emerging from the temple repository, they’d deduce even more: that the prince now knows the box was tampered with.”

Ling Qing’s face darkened. “I should have taken a few extra turns!”

“A few detours wouldn’t have helped,” Gu Lianzhao added coolly. “You determined the box had been touched from the hair on the bottom. How do you know they didn’t leave a mark of their own to see if you’d checked it? The moment you touched the box, it became bait to flush them out.”

Ling Qing looked utterly crestfallen. “What do we do? I already touched it…”

She was usually so bold and energetic; this defeated expression made her look surprisingly endearing.

Liu Yuanxun couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re skilled in martial arts, not intelligence gathering. You did an excellent job. Besides, even if they’ve noticed, it doesn’t matter.”

As the sole figure in the open amid these clashing factions, such minor details were irrelevant. In fact, revealing that he knew the box held secrets might make those in the shadows panic all the more.

Panic led to action, and action led to exposure.

Ling Ting, however, had a question. “But Your Highness, you avoid worldly affairs, court politics, and factional strife. Why would anyone target you?”

Liu Yuanxun smiled mildly. “I’m curious about that too. But what you just said gave me an idea.”

He lifted his gaze to the courtyard wall outside the window and said softly, “The greatest advantage of someone who avoids worldly affairs, court politics, and factional strife is precisely that: they avoid worldly affairs, court politics, and factional strife.”

To shun all three was to remain neutral—and blameless.

Whoever had targeted him not only wielded considerable power but harbored grand ambitions.

…

The next morning, Liu Yuanxun awoke feeling much improved.

He considered heading to court while the weather was fine, but upon checking the date, he realized it was his day off.

“Let’s go out for a stroll,” Liu Yuanxun said, glancing at the sky. “It’s nearly the New Year by the calendar. The streets should be lively—we can pick up some festive goods while we’re at it.”

Ling Qing let out a “pfft” of laughter. “Your Highness, I never imagined hearing ‘festive goods’ from you. That’s work for the servants. We can’t have you troubling yourself with it.”

Liu Yuanxun waved the book in his hand. “I read about it in a book of folk miscellany a few days ago. The description was amusing, so I thought I’d give it a try.”

“Wonderful!” Ling Qing said eagerly. “I’ve never gone shopping with you before. And my brother too, and…”

She rose on tiptoe to peer out the window at Gu Lianzhao. “Should we invite Lord Gu as well?”

Gu Lianzhao’s internal force was profound enough to hear every word inside the room. Ling Qing’s question disrupted his breathing exercise for a moment, nearly causing him to falter.

He held his breath instinctively. In that brief instant, a flurry of thoughts raced through his mind: “If Liu Yuanxun invites me, how should I refuse?” and “It’s only shopping together—why not?”

The jumbled ideas passed in a flash. Before he could sort them out, he heard Liu Yuanxun’s gentle voice.

“Of course we should. After all, we’re spending the New Year together.”

Gu Lianzhao paused, his reluctance unexpectedly fading.

…

Liu Yuanxun rarely ventured out, and when he did, it was only to rest at his usual teahouse.

This outing was a spur-of-the-moment decision, with no particular shops or plans in mind. In the end, he had Ling Ting drive the carriage to the teahouse for a brief respite before deciding what to do next.

The teahouse, called the Nameless Residence, sat on the bustling Lin’an Street in the heart of the Imperial City. It had two stories: the ground floor for traveling merchants and common folk, and the private upstairs rooms reserved for wealthy patrons seeking quiet.

The center of the main hall stood open, hosting a makeshift stage where an old man and a young one performed crosstalk comedy. Their rapid patter and clacking bamboo clappers had the entire crowd roaring with laughter.

A sharp-eyed waiter spotted the familiar carriage and hurried over, towel flung over his shoulder.

Liu Yuanxun might not recognize him, but the waiter made it his business to know his regulars. He’d learned the prince’s identity long ago. Even if the kitchen caught fire, he’d prioritize greeting an important guest.

“My lord, the usual spot?” The first rule of hospitality was making patrons feel at home—and he remembered well that Liu Yuanxun preferred the room overlooking the street, where he could watch the bustle.

But Liu Yuanxun seemed to think of something and shook his head with a faint smile. “Not today. Pick somewhere quieter.”

Last time, he’d witnessed Gu Lianzhao chopping someone down in the street from that very “usual spot.” Since they were shopping for the New Year today, somewhere low-key would be better.

“You got it! Right this way—I’ll make sure it’s perfect!” The waiter led them upstairs, choosing a room that was secluded yet offered a view of the action below.

The crosstalk duo finished their set, replaced by two acrobats and their little dog. The pup bounded about at their commands, putting on a dazzling show.

Liu Yuanxun watched for a moment before looking away. He smiled as he listened to Ling Qing’s enthusiastic plans, chiming in now and then. The mood was warm and harmonious.

Glancing aside, he noticed Gu Lianzhao staring raptly at the performance below. “Do you like it?” he asked casually.

Gu Lianzhao came back to himself and shook his head. “It reminds me a bit of Broom Tail.”

Broom Tail?

Liu Yuanxun blinked, then looked down at the fluffy white pup again. Agile and adorable, it hardly resembled a broom.

Gu Lianzhao had only commented offhand, but seeing Liu Yuanxun study the dog so intently, he added, “Broom Tail is my Liangshan Dog. It’s very clever too.”

“You have a dog?” Liu Yuanxun looked up at him. “Where is it now?”

Gu Lianzhao replied, “At the Embroidered Uniform Guard headquarters. It guards the gate for the warden at the Imperial Prison.”

Liu Yuanxun’s interest piqued. “Why not keep it here at the residence?”

Gu Lianzhao seemed surprised. “May I bring it?”

“Of course,” Liu Yuanxun said matter-of-factly. “It’s your dog. If you want it with you, it belongs here.”

“Yes! Are we getting a dog at the residence?” Ling Qing exclaimed in delight. “Your Highness, if Lord Gu can bring his dog, can I get one too? I want a dog…”

Ling Ting frowned, ready to curb her opportunism, but Liu Yuanxun smiled and agreed. “Certainly. As long as the residence can accommodate them, raise whatever you’d like.”

“Thank you, Your Highness!” Ling Qing cheered.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Gu Lianzhao smoothed his robes and knelt in salute. Liu Yuanxun reacted a beat too slowly to help him up and could only gesture for him to rise.

Ling Qing’s laughter rang out clearly, and as Gu Lianzhao stood, the corners of his mouth lifted in a faint smile.

It was only a dog, yet it made him happier than his reinstatement.

To think such a man had been so maligned by his own father… Liu Yuanxun felt a pang of pity, but he masked it with a bland smile, unnoticed.

He set down his teacup and said, “Since we’re already out, there’s no time like the present. Let’s make it today—after we finish eating, we’ll head to the Embroidered Uniform Guard, pick up Broom Tail, and take it with us to buy New Year’s goods!”

Ling Qing let out a joyful cheer, thrilled beyond measure. She chattered nonstop about the kind of dog she wanted to raise.

The meal came to an end amid Ling Qing’s bubbly laughter and chatter. Perhaps it was the pleasant atmosphere, but Liu Yuanxun found that his appetite had improved noticeably.

Once they had finished eating, Ling Qing summoned the waiter to settle the bill. The three of them headed downstairs first.

The street performers had left the stage at some point, replaced by a pair of elegant qin musicians and graceful dancers. The qin music flowed melodiously, their dances fluid and enchanting. Even Liu Yuanxun, who was accustomed to refined entertainments, couldn’t help but pause his steps to watch for a moment.

Yet as he watched, his gaze drifted away from the dancers to the calligraphy hanging behind the round platform.