The wind was cool on a September night.

Shen Qingchen took the note left by the Imperial Guards and went to Mingxiang's house. At that time, Mingxiang's parents were so distressed by their daughter's disappearance that they couldn't eat or drink.

When her mother saw Qingchen arrive, she came up to her with a worried expression and said, "That girl Mingxiang said she would bring you a basket of vegetables, but she hasn't come back yet."

Seeing her like that, Qingchen felt as if her heart was being ripped apart again. She handed her the note and said, "Auntie, Mingxiang... she was taken away by the Imperial Guards. I'm sorry, it's all because of me."

Mingxiang's father, who had been pacing back and forth in the room with his hands behind his back, exchanged a glance with his wife upon hearing her words. His voice was hoarse and trembling, "The... Imperial Guard?"

The Ming Dynasty's Embroidered Uniform Guard had spies all over the country, from prime ministers and princes to ordinary people, all under their surveillance. Anyone who alerted the Embroidered Uniform Guard and was arrested was often subjected to severe torture, so the people were terrified at the mere mention of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

Mingxiang's mother's eyes immediately welled up with tears. She grabbed Qingchen and asked, "Sir, is our Mingxiang... going to die?"

Seeing her like this, Qingchen felt as if his throat was choked, and his heart sank. He took a breath and said to the two of them, "Uncle, Aunt, I'm sorry. Mingxiang was taken away because of me. I've implicated her. No matter what it takes, I will find her."

The two elderly people, like their daughter, were kind-hearted. They didn't blame Qingchen; only tears streamed down their faces, leaving streaks. In their eyes, Qingchen saw their only hope for her, the scholar who had passed the imperial examination.

Without further delay, Qingchen entrusted her father to their care and quickly left.

The air was slightly moistened by moisture, which gathered and then dispersed.

A crescent moon was half-hidden in the clouds, and the starlight was faint.

Two red crepe lanterns hung in front of the gate of the Song Mansion, shining brightly on a street shrouded in night. Their orange-yellow glow diffused into the distance, appearing hazy and warm.

After a long journey, Shen Qingchen finally arrived at the door as it was completely dark. Her hand lingered on the door for a moment, then she quickly patted it a few times.

After a while, a servant wearing a robe came and opened the door with a lantern, asking, "Who comes to visit?"

"Please, please announce my arrival. I am Shen Qingchen, a student of Lord Song and a junior compiler in the Hanlin Academy. I have urgent business with Lord Song." As she spoke, she clung to the door, panting heavily, her forehead already covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

The servant looked her up and down, noticing her coarse clothes and peeking behind her. Seeing no carriage in sight, he became dismissive. "What brings you here so late? Do you have a visiting card?"

"...I forgot to bring my visiting card, please make an exception for me, young man." Shen Qingchen was in a hurry and was worried about Ming Xiang's suffering, so she forgot that this was the strictly hierarchical Ming Dynasty. Although Song Yue was her teacher, he was also the Second Grand Secretary of the Cabinet, a high-ranking official of the second rank, not someone she could just see whenever she wanted.

The servant glanced at her. "Many people want to see Lord Song, and any young man claims to be his student. Lord Song holds a high position and is very busy with official duties. He naturally needs to rest at night and doesn't have much free time to see you. Since you don't have a visiting card, you should leave quickly." With that, he was about to close the door.

Shen Qingchen quickly reached out an arm to stop him, "Could you please pass on a message for me? I'll wait right outside the door. If the master refuses to see me, you can always kick me out."

"No, no." The servant tightened his clothes. "If everyone who doesn't have a name card says the same thing as you, and I have to go and reply to each one, the master will be annoyed to death even if he doesn't want to see me. If there's really something important, then bring your name card and come back."

"But curfew is about to start, and if I go back to get my name card, I won't be able to get back in time..."

"That's none of my business."

In this critical moment, Shen Qingchen realized that the title "teacher" she usually used was like a ladder to heaven, a pyramid of rank that many people dream of reaching the top of.

A September night breeze blew by, bringing a chill to Shen Qingchen's sweat-dampened skin. Shen Qingchen lowered his hand that had been blocking the door, watching helplessly as the mansion's gate closed again with a dull thud.

"Let's go back."

She stared blankly at the door, with Teacher Song just one door separating her from it.

Moonlight spilled onto the steps, and Mingxiang's smiling face flashed through her mind. Qingchen gritted her teeth and knocked on the door again.

After a while, the servant came to open the door again, this time very impatiently. "Why is it you again? Didn't I tell you to leave? How dare you cause trouble in front of Lord Song's residence? If you don't leave, I'll have the government officials come and take you away."

"—Wait." Suddenly a voice came.

"What's all this noise about?"

The servant turned around and saw the person who had come. He quickly bowed and said, "Reporting to Lord Zhou, there is a person who claims to be Lord Song's student. He has no name card and insists on seeing Lord Song."

Zhou Shiping's face appeared through the crack in the door. A strange light flashed in his eyes when he saw Shen Qingchen. Then Qingchen heard him say, "Let him in."

Qingchen was surprised to meet him, thanked him gratefully, and followed him inside.

The night breeze lingered over the treetops, and the shadows of the branches and leaves were faintly visible under the pale moonlight.

Under the lantern light, Qingchen noticed that his face was very red, his eyes were bloodshot, and he smelled of alcohol, indicating that he had drunk quite a bit.

“I remember you, the young student who came a few days ago. What’s your name again, Chen…” Zhou Shiping stopped and asked.

Qingchen bowed respectfully and said, "My name is Shen Qingchen, sir."

He stared intently at her face, finding it exquisitely beautiful and captivating. "You're here so late to see your teacher? Perfect timing. I'm quite bored by myself, and Ziwang won't keep me company. Why don't you stay and admire the moon with me for a while?"

Zhou Shiping had drunk a lot of wine today, and after the alcohol took effect, he began to think about lust. He was worried that he would not be able to secretly visit prostitutes in the capital, but then he saw a face that interested him. He suddenly remembered the male homosexuality that was popular among scholars at the time, and his mind began to wander.

Qingchen was taken aback, and said with a troubled expression, "Please forgive me, sir, I have some urgent business to attend to with my teacher."

"Hey—what's the rush? Enjoy the moon first, then we'll go. Your teacher is right here in the manor, he can't run away." He said sarcastically, and then, taking advantage of his drunkenness, he tried to pull Qingchen away. Grabbing the arm covered by wide sleeves, he felt that it was unusually soft and slender.

When Qingchen was grabbed like that, she felt every pore on her body repulsed her. She struggled a little and said seriously, "Lord Zhou, you have drunk too much. Please have some self-respect!"

He chuckled, “Self-respect? Let me tell you, although your teacher is a Grand Secretary, a much higher official than me, he wouldn’t dare do anything to me. If you know what’s good for you, you’d better behave yourself and not bother your teacher or make things difficult for him.”

He had been drinking and was very strong; Qingchen felt like she was being dragged along, her arm aching from the pulling.

Just then, a lantern appeared not far away. The person carrying the lantern was the steward of the mansion. He had seen Qingchen last time she came and had even given her a set of blouses.

Qingchen recognized him and hurriedly said loudly, "Steward Li, I am Shen Qingchen, a student of Lord Song. I came here a few days ago. Lord Zhou has had too much to drink, so please come and take a look."

Steward Li approached with a lantern and, seeing the two struggling and Zhou Shiping reeking of alcohol, understood the situation. "Is Lord Zhou alright? Since this young master is here to see Lord Song, this old servant will take him there."

Zhou Shiping, annoyed that his plans had been ruined, glared at him, then turned to look at Shen Qingchen with resentment before turning away with a flick of his sleeve. "What bad luck!"

Still shaken, Shen Qingchen rubbed her wrist, which Zhou Shiping had pinched red, and thanked Steward Li. Steward Li sighed and said, "This Lord Zhou loves to drink, and even Lord Song can't do anything about it."

Before long, the two arrived at Song Yue's study. The door was closed, and a faint light shone through the window.

Manager Li asked for permission outside the door, and after a moment, Qingchen heard his familiar voice, "Let her in."

Inside the study, Song Yue was writing at his desk, dressed in a dark blue silk robe with a thin, moon-colored outer garment draped over his back. The candlelight on the table flickered, illuminating his flawless face and deep, dark eyes.

When Qingchen saw his teacher, he felt as if he were a bird returning to its nest, or a long-lost boat finally reaching the shore. A surge of emotions immediately welled up inside him.

Song Yue put down his pen and saw her standing blankly at the door with her hands hanging down, her expression slightly different. He asked, "Why do you look like this? What happened?"

She looked up into his eyes, her lips trembling slightly, and said, "The Imperial Guards are here again. They arrested my neighbor around 5 PM. I shouldn't have disturbed you so late, but she... is a woman. Please forgive me, teacher."

He looked at her, his eyes and brows like a gentle breeze and a bright moon, his noble air still naturally refined. "Why are you so late?"

In the quiet of the night, Shen Qingchen wondered if she had misheard.

A moment later, he said casually, "It's been half an hour and a quarter of an hour since the hour of You (5-7 PM), why are you running so slowly?"