Qi Huaiyu stood in the dense forest outside the hunting grounds, his fingers digging deeply into his palms.
"Useless." A cold sneer came from behind.
Qi Huaiyu turned around abruptly and saw a man dressed in black tight-fitting clothes walk out from behind the tree, with the emblem of the Second Prince's residence engraved on the jade pendant at his waist.
"Your subordinate greets Your Excellency." Qi Huaiyu hurriedly bowed, fine beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.
"His Highness wants capable people, not useless fools who can't even handle a woman." The man's eyes were sinister as he lightly stroked the sword at his waist. "The Xin family is thriving, and Xin Yunzhou has received numerous awards in court, while you—" He sneered, "can't even touch the hem of Xin Jiuwei's skirt."
Qi Huaiyu's knees slammed heavily against the withered branches, but the sharp pain paled in comparison to the overwhelming fear in his heart. His forehead was pressed against the ground, the stench of earth and decaying leaves filling his nostrils, and the dark dragon and python embroidered on the black brocade boots seemed to come alive and devour him.
"Your Excellency is wise! The failure of this hunting ground plan was due to the sudden appearance of Jueming..."
"Jueming?" The man sneered, his boot suddenly lifting Qi Huaiyu's chin, forcing him to look up. "A mere mountain monk, is he worth your such fear?"
Qi Huaiyu's Adam's apple bobbed as he met the man's hawk-like eyes. This Zhou Huan, the Second Prince's chief strategist, was said to have been able to make a death row inmate confess with just three sentences when he worked in the Ministry of Justice. At this moment, the ruby-inlaid dagger at his waist reflected an eerie light with his movements.
"That monk Jueming is no ordinary person!" Qi Huaiyu exclaimed urgently. "When he appeared, the birds in the forest were not startled, and even the Xin family's spirited horse was as docile as a lamb..."
"Useless trash!" Zhou Huan suddenly sprang to his feet, slamming his scabbard into Qi Huaiyu's shoulder. The bone-cracking pain made his vision blur, but he dared not cry out. "What the Second Prince wants is a sharp blade capable of severing the Xin family's lifeline, not a coward who only makes excuses!"
Qi Huaiyu trembled all over, his inner clothes soaked with cold sweat. He knew all too well the price of failure—the scout who had been chopped up and fed to the wolves three months ago, his screams still echoing in his nightmares.
"Your subordinate... Your subordinate discovered that Ye Qingzheng goes to Heming Mountain alone to gather herbs every fifth day of the month." Qi Huaiyu suddenly grabbed Zhou Huan's sleeve. "That old scoundrel has repeatedly made sarcastic remarks about the Second Prince at poetry gatherings. If we could make him die under that jade inkstone that Xin Yunzhou often uses..."
Zhou Huan squinted, his thumb tracing the raised patterns on the hilt of the knife. A sudden gust of cold wind swept through the forest, making the jade pendant at his waist jingle. It was a Pixiu carved from blood jade, said to be able to absorb the resentment of the dying.
"Interesting." Zhou Huan suddenly squatted down, his metallic breath brushing against Qi Huaiyu's face. "But how did that bookworm have the guts to kill his own mentor?"
A cold glint flashed in Qi Huaiyu's eyes: "Last month, Ye Qingzheng publicly said that Xin Yunzhou was 'incorrigible,' and that fool cried half the night in his study..." He lowered his voice, "I will let him 'accidentally' discover the correspondence between my mentor and the Second Prince. With his shallow understanding, he will definitely act impulsively..."
"Ha!" Zhou Huan clapped his hands suddenly, startling a few crows. "What a brilliant scheme to kill with a borrowed knife!" He suddenly used the tip of his knife to pick up the jade pendant at Qi Huaiyu's waist. "After this is done, it will be stained with Ye Qingzheng's blood."
Qi Huaiyu nodded expressionlessly. The jade pendant was a gift from Xin Jiuwei last year; it was carved from the finest Hetian jade with twin lotus blossoms on one stem—perfect for witnessing the downfall of the Xin family.
Zhou Huan shook him off, took out a snow-white handkerchief, and slowly wiped his hands: "I heard Xin Jiuwei has been teaching her brother military strategy recently?" He casually tossed the blood-stained handkerchief into the stream, "Once things are settled, the Second Prince will personally teach her what true military strategy is."
"Your Highness only cares about the result." He tossed a bronze token from his sleeve, which landed in front of Qi Huaiyu. "Within three days, I want to see news of Ye Qingzheng's death. Otherwise..." He made a throat-slitting gesture and turned to leave.
Qi Huaiyu picked up the bronze plaque, on which was engraved a ferocious wolf's head—an assassination order from the Second Prince's residence. He gripped the plaque tightly, his knuckles turning white.
After the footsteps completely disappeared, Qi Huaiyu remained kneeling in place. In the twilight, he stared at the bloody marks on his palms where his fingernails had dug in, and suddenly remembered Xin Yunzhou, whom he had seen outside the academy yesterday—that fool had been carrying a book and reading as he walked, when he bumped his head into a pillar, causing passersby to burst into laughter.
After leaving the hunting grounds, Qi Huaiyu wandered aimlessly through the city.
As the sun set, it cast a long shadow of him.
He passed by the familiar pig slaughterhouse, where the burly butcher was teaching his apprentice how to do things.
"Slaughtering a pig requires swift, decisive action; there can be no hesitation. If you hesitate even slightly, the pig will struggle, and blood will splatter everywhere."
The butcher raised his knife and brought it down; the pig's head fell to the ground with a thud, and blood gushed out.
Qi Huaiyu stood outside the shop, looking at the bright red blood, and suddenly smiled.
"Yes, we can't hesitate..." he muttered to himself, a ruthless glint in his eyes.
The candlelight flickered, and Xin Jiuwei put down her pen for the third time, crumpling the letter into a ball and tossing it into the wastebasket. Dozens of discarded letters lay scattered on the table, their ink stains mirroring her current state of mind.
"Miss, you've been writing for two hours now." Wang Qing brought over a cup of calming tea, looking worriedly at the faint dark circles under her eyes. "If it's a letter for the Holy Monk, perhaps I should go directly to Lingyin Temple to deliver the message?"
Xin Jiuwei shook her head, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the jade hairpin her mother had left behind. Ever since discovering that her mother's death might be related to the secret of Jueming's origins, she had been unable to sleep at night. That secret—the truth about the Emperor using the symbiotic Gu to protect Jueming—was something her mother learned from her wet nurse, Yao Niang, and for which she paid the ultimate price.
"Prepare another sheet of stationery," she finally said, her voice a little hoarse.
This time, she wrote only a few words: "Holy Monk Jueming, there is a new lead regarding my mother's death. I hope to see you. —Xin Jiuwei"
Less than half an hour after the letter was sent, a soft sound came from outside the window. Xin Jiuwei looked up alertly and saw a dark figure silently land in the courtyard—it was Liu Ya, Jueming's personal bodyguard, the woman who always had an expressionless face.
"The master wants to see you," Liu Ya's voice was as cold as her eyes. "Now."
Xin Jiuwei's heart skipped a beat: "So late?"
Liu Ya's lips curled into a barely perceptible smile: "Master said that since Miss Xin dared to write a letter so late at night, she must have already made preparations for a night visit."
Under the clear moonlight, Liu Ya led Xin Jiuwei through the quiet streets and alleys, finally stopping in front of a secluded courtyard. This was not Lingyin Temple, but an elegant private villa.
"Come in," came Jueming's deep voice from inside the room.
Pushing open the door, Xin Jiuwei saw Jueming standing by the window, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on his handsome profile. He wasn't wearing a monk's robe today, but rather a long, dark-colored gown, which made him appear even more profound and unfathomable.
"What a refined hobby the holy monk has! Instead of practicing in the temple late at night, he's here..." Before Xin Jiuwei could finish speaking, Jueming suddenly turned around and looked at her with piercing eyes.
"How long has it been since you slept?" he asked abruptly.
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