Summer rain patters down, and paper money flutters in the air.
The raindrops shimmered silver in the pre-dawn darkness, like countless fine needles pricking the skin.
"Boom!"
As a clap of thunder struck, Shen Jintang sat bolt upright in bed, her thin nightgown soaked with cold sweat, clinging stickily to her back. She pressed her hand to her wildly pounding heart, the unease clinging to her like a leech.
I turned to look out the window; it was still dark.
"Xing Hui!" Her voice was hoarse as she called out.
Xinghui hurriedly pushed open the door and entered, the plain white mourning clothes she held in her hands were so bright in the candlelight that they hurt one's eyes: "Master."
"What day is it today?" Shen Jintang suddenly grabbed Xinghui's wrist, her nails almost digging into the other's flesh.
She suddenly had a bad feeling.
Xinghui frowned in pain: "It's the day of Lord Ye Qingzhou's funeral. His Highness the Crown Prince has already..."
Before she finished speaking, Shen Jintang had already rushed out barefoot.
The chill of the night rain seeped into the bluestone floor, rising from the soles of her feet to the top of her head. As she ran across the corridor, the copper bells hanging under the eaves jingled in the wind, mirroring her current uneasy state of mind.
Under the crabapple tree in front of the mansion, she finally saw that figure.
Gu Zhixing was tying the belt of his mourning clothes with his back to her. The plain linen fabric made his shoulders and back look even thinner. Rain dripped from his hair onto the scabbard, splashing up tiny droplets.
Shen Jintang's gaze fell on the sword at Gu Zhixing's waist. He actually carried a sword at his side, a long sword made of black iron that should belong to the battlefield.
"Gu Zhixing!"
The moment he turned around, Shen Jintang saw the murderous intent in his eyes that he hadn't yet managed to conceal.
"Why aren't you wearing shoes?" He frowned, taking off his outer robe to wrap her in it.
Shen Jintang grabbed his wrist and felt the familiar hard outline through his sleeve.
Hidden arrow.
Gu Zhixing had previously kept the hidden blade in his study, but he rarely used it unless he was going to kill someone.
"Take me with you." Her voice trembled, whether from the cold or fear, it was hard to tell.
Gu Zhixing's hand suddenly tightened, squeezing her wrist until it ached.
His face was blurred in the rain, but his eyes shone with an eerie light: "You're overthinking it."
Without needing to say more, he could understand what Shen Jintang was thinking.
“Then let me follow you.” She took a step forward, her soaked undergarment clinging to his front.
The distance was so close that I could smell the sandalwood scent on him.
The two stared at each other, neither willing to give in.
In the suffocating silence, a crabapple petal fell onto Gu Zhixing's shoulder.
He suddenly chuckled softly and reached out to brush away the remaining trace of red: "Alright."
The word was pronounced too lightly and too quickly, like a knife wrapped in cotton cloth.
"Put your shoes on first."
Gu Zhixing looked at Xing Hui who was chasing after him, took the shoes from her hand, and bent down to put them on Shen Jintang.
As Shen Jintang watched his trembling fingers as he bent down to put on her shoes, she felt increasingly uneasy.
It wasn't that she didn't want to kill the crown prince, but rather that she was somewhat worried about Gu Zhixing.
She knew all too well how irrational decisions people make when they are extremely angry, and that irrationality was most likely to lead to failure!
What are the consequences of failure?
If the Crown Prince holds a handle on you, you will truly be doomed.
The rain was getting heavier and heavier, hitting the car roof like a drumbeat.
Shen Jintang looked at Gu Zhixing, knowing that there was no reason to stop him, but at least she should stay by his side, rather than let him take the risk alone.
——
In front of the gate of Ye Mansion, the white flags are like snow.
Shen Jintang stood under the eaves, rainwater sliding down the umbrella ribs and gathering into a trickle at her feet. She watched Gu Zhixing slowly walk towards the mourning hall, his plain white mourning clothes outlining his tall and straight back, the black iron longsword at his waist particularly conspicuous as he walked.
She really didn't understand why Gu Zhixing would choose such an obvious longsword, as if he was afraid others wouldn't know what he wanted to do.
Inside the mourning hall on the other side, the Crown Prince stood at the front, his apricot-yellow robe standing out starkly against the pure white backdrop.
He was wiping the corner of his eye with a handkerchief, but Shen Jintang could clearly see that the handkerchief was clean, without even a trace of dampness.
"Ye Qing..." The Crown Prince's drawn-out wailing was nauseating.
Gu Zhixing seemed not to hear, and simply burned incense and bowed respectfully. His hand holding the incense was as steady as a rock, and his three bows and nine kowtows were so perfect that not a single mistake could be found. Only when he bent down did Shen Jintang notice the bulging veins on the back of his neck, like a lurking venomous snake.
After the worship ceremony, the funeral procession begins.
The funeral procession moved slowly through the rain, the paper money soaked by the rain, sticking to the bluestone slabs like mottled tear stains.
Because General Ye was grieving the loss of his son, he fell ill and was unable to attend the funeral. Gu Zhixing then carried the coffin at the front of the procession.
Shen Jintang followed three steps behind him and could hear his suppressed breathing.
Apart from that, Gu Zhixing made no other move.
This made Shen Jintang somewhat suspicious. Could it be that she had guessed wrong and that Gu Zhixing did not intend to make a move today?
Upon reaching the chosen burial site, the master of ceremonies stepped forward three times, holding a jade tablet, his aged voice echoing in the rain: "The auspicious time has arrived—"
He unfolded the bamboo slips, and his recitation pierced through the rain: "Ye Qingzhou, loyal and filial, died young, a loss that grieves heaven and earth. Now we choose this auspicious place to lay your soul to rest. A mound of yellow earth, forever separated by a thousand autumns—please, dear relatives, lay your hands in the ground."
Gu Zhixing stepped out of the queue, the hem of his plain mourning clothes sweeping across the muddy ground.
The master of ceremonies presented him with a lacquered tray, on which lay a bronze shovel wrapped in white silk.
"Please, Your Highness, perform the ritual of sealing the grave for the deceased," the official in charge of rites whispered.
Gu Zhixing took the bronze shovel, its tip making a dull thud as it plunged into the soil. The soil slowly seeped down, landing on the coffin with a muffled sound. He then unfastened the mutton-fat jade pendant from his waist, placed it in the grave, and sprinkled yellow earth on top.
"Light boat..." A very low murmur was shattered by the sound of rain.
The master of ceremonies announced again: "Second offering of earth—please invite relatives and friends to see us off!"
When Shen Jintang and the others stepped forward, they saw Gu Zhixing still standing there, rain dripping down his jawline and onto his chest, soaking through his plain white mourning clothes.
"Your Highness, please accept my condolences," the official in charge of ceremonies whispered.
When Gu Zhixing straightened up, his face had returned to its calm and expressionless state.
Only Shen Jintang felt that something was very wrong.
It's too peaceful.
Gu Zhixing was far too calm.
This is not like him.
Unless it's the calm before the storm!
But even after Ye Qingzhou was buried, and the funeral procession gradually dispersed, and even the Crown Prince was about to return home, Gu Zhixing remained completely silent.
Shen Jintang couldn't help but start to wonder if she was overthinking things and that Gu Zhixing really didn't intend to make a move today.
The thought had barely formed when a piercing battle cry suddenly rang out from afar.
"Bandits! Mountain bandits have come down from the mountain!"
The servant's scream pierced the rain.
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