XIAHOU LIAN'S MOTHER had an aura of violence that seemingly couldn't be cleansed. Every smile or frown seemed to conceal a threat.
This was what a true assassin looked like.
Thinking of Xiahou Lian, Shen Jue suppressed the fear that rose in his heart. "Xiahou Lian, he—"
"I know. Move aside." Xiahou Pei brushed past Shen Jue and walked into the room, stopping by Xiahou Lian's bed.
Xiahou Lian's eyes widened in disbelief. "Consort Gao?!"
"Fucking hell. I can't believe I raised such a foolish son. I just changed my face a bit. You don't even recognize your own mother?" Pulling a pill from her pocket, Xiahou Pei said irritably, "Two options: Stay here and wait to die or take this pill and return to Qiye Garden. Pick one."
Xiahou Lian finally understood. Through the blood covering his face, he said weakly, "You really are my mother."
"Of course. If I weren't, would I have stayed in the palace with you so long, pretending to be a madwoman?" Xiahou Pei tore her mask off and threw it on the ground, revealing a face that was both strikingly sharp and beautiful. She and Xiahou Lian looked very much alike, especially their eyes, which were as dark and keen as blades.
"Take it, Xiahou Lian," Shen Jue suddenly interjected. "Don't stay in the palace anymore. You don't belong here."
"That's right." Xiahou Pei smiled. "You're so foolish, you could end up as a meager snack for anyone here." She turned to Shen Jue. "You—kid—stop looking at me like that. I can't do anything about this. Those born in Qiye Garden are destined to live this way. Everyone has to take the antidote on the fifteenth day of the seventh month…me included. Only the abbot's got the antidote, and his swordsmanship is unparalleled; he could even force me to admit defeat. I can only serve as his obedient pawn."
Shen Jue averted his eyes.
Sighing, Xiahou Lian took the pill from Xiahou Pei's hand, chewed a few times, and swallowed. His body was still weak, and a wave of drowsiness overwhelmed him.
"Mother, let me sleep for a bit," he said faintly. "We can leave tomorrow morning."
Xiahou Pei agreed casually, then wiped the blood from his face, tucked him in, and stepped out from behind the bed-curtain. She sat at the square table and poured herself a cup of tea.
"Truthfully, he only had one choice, didn't he?" Shen Jue said suddenly.
Xiahou Pei stopped blowing on her tea to look at Shen Jue.
"If he hadn't agreed to go with you, you would've killed me."
Xiahou Pei chuckled. "I never said that."
"What exactly is Seven Fifteen?"
"An addictive drug from the Miao regions, though not quite as addictive as similar drugs. Stop taking those for half a month, and they'll make your life hell. But withdrawal from Seven Fifteen acts up every year on the fifteenth day of the seventh month. Take it, and you're fine. If you don't...you can tough it out, but the consequences are unpredictable."
"The Miao regions..." Shen Jue murmured. "Are there no more details?"
"None."
"And is there really no other way?" Shen Jue lowered his head. "He doesn't want to go back to Qiye Garden. You know too that he doesn't want to kill."
"You don't want to be a eunuch. So can you stop being one?" Xiahou Pei asked indifferently.
"You—"
"You're smart, little Shaoye—much smarter than my fool of a son, at least." Xiahou Pei's porcelain teacup gleamed in her fingers. "In life, everyone has their own path. Paths might cross, but they'll never be the same."
Shen Jue smiled. "You don't know any methods of divination, ma'am. How can you be so sure?"
"No, I can't divine. I can read people, though."
"Oh? In your eyes, what kind of person am I?"
"Treacherous, cunning, shameless, and despicable."
"So blunt, ma'am." Shen Jue clenched a fist tightly under the table, but the smile on his lips didn't waver. "But would you be willing to make a bet with your humble nephew?"
"I haven't got a nephew like you," Xiahou Pei said bluntly. "But what's the bet?"
"I bet I can rescue Xiahou Lian from Qiye Garden and give him his freedom. After that, no one in the world will ever force him to bow his head or obey orders again!"
"That's interesting." Xiahou Pei propped her chin on her hand, her slender fingers covering her smile. "May I ask what kind of magic my Xiao-Lian possesses to make you go to such lengths for him? The brat can't even wield his saber correctly; his forms are all over the place. He's going to ruin my reputation."
Shen Jue lowered his thick lashes and said softly, "You give me a hawthorn fruit, and I'll repay you with a piece of jade.21 That's all."
"Enough, little Shaoye. You should focus on helping yourself first. Avenging the Xie family won't be easy."
"The emperor is nearly fifty. He wastes his days in hedonism, obsessing over alchemy and immortality. He won't last long. When the throne changes hands, Wei De's life will end." Shen Jue raised his eyes and looked directly at Xiahou Pei. "Dare you take my bet, ma'am?"
Xiahou Pei's smile deepened. "How long will the bet last? And what are the stakes?"
"Give me ten years. You'll bet your trust, and I'll bet my life. If Xiahou Lian hasn't left Qiye Garden in ten years, my life will be yours."
An absurd bet, but Xiahou Pei was an absurd person. She stared at Shen Jue for a long time, then slapped the table. "Deal."
Shen Jue exhaled slowly. "In that case, ma'am, what more can you tell me about Seven Fifteen?"
After all, Xiahou Pei was older than Shen Jue. He'd known from the start that she didn't trust him and that she was hiding many things about the Garden.
But things were different now. Shen Jue had earned her trust.
"I truly don't know much about Seven Fifteen," she replied. "I've told you everything I can."
Shen Jue frowned. "Ma'am."
"However…" Xiahou Pei smiled brightly. "Ye Facai, the manager of Jixiang Inn in the south of the city; Hong Sanniang, the madam of the brothel in Hualiu Alley, and her adopted daughter Hong Qiaojie; Zhu Kai, the wine seller in Jiuzao Alley; and—ah, yes—Yuan Zimei, the proofreader from the Office of the Heir Apparent—they're all Qiye Garden spies. Since I've given you their names, what you do next is up to you."
Shen Jue nodded. A clever calculation; the lowest-level Garden spies wouldn't be a great loss if discarded. Xiahou Lian had once said that the spies knew very little about the Garden; they didn't even know where its temple was. Even if Shen Jue captured them, it would have little impact. Therefore, he could only observe how the Seven Fifteen affected them. He couldn't do anything beyond that.
Even if Shen Jue harbored ill intentions toward the Garden or Xiahou Lian, this wouldn't allow him to act on those.
"Thank you, ma'am," Shen Jue said.
"All right. I need to take Xiao-Lian away now," Xiahou Pei said, setting down her teacup.
Shen Jue was startled. "So soon?"
"Night's the best time to travel."
"How do you plan to get out?" Shen Jue asked, standing.
"I'll fight our way out. How else?"
Mother and son clearly shared the same reckless nature. Shen Jue sighed and said, "I know a secret passage. A deep well outside leads directly outside the palace to the Jing Mountains."
Xiahou Pei turned to him, surprised. "So that map's in your hands."
"No," Shen Jue said. "It's in my mind."
Xiahou Pei patted his shoulder. "If only you were my son," she said. "The difference between people is so vast. All right—farewell, little Shaoye. Take care of yourself in the palace. Don't give Xiao-Lian cause to worry."
She dressed Xiahou Lian roughly. Despite all the activity, Xiahou Lian didn't wake up—owing, perhaps, to the Seven Fifteen.
Not yet fully grown, Xiahou Lian was between adolescence and adulthood, his body still somewhat skinny, not yet an imposing figure. The lingering effects of the poison now left him pale as a paper doll. His eyes were tightly closed, and there was a faint trace of blood smudged like unwashed rouge at the corner of his lips.
Suppressing the urge to hug him, Shen Jue gently wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. "Farewell, Xiahou Lian."
We will absolutely meet again.
Xiahou Pei lifted Xiahou Lian onto her shoulder, then strode outside and across the moonlit ground, heading for the dry well.
Shen Jue suddenly remembered that Jingtie was stowed in the treasure cabinet. He fetched it quickly and called out, "Ma'am! Jingtie!"
Still carrying Xiahou Lian, Xiahou Pei waved her hand dismissively. "It's yours now!"
Shen Jue held the black saber and stood by the window, watching Xiahou Pei leap into the well with Xiahou Lian. They instantly disappeared in a flutter of robes; he couldn't even hear their footsteps. The courtyard abruptly fell silent but for the chirping of insects.
It was terribly, terribly quiet.
It was as though Shen Jue had returned to the days before his reunion with Xiahou Lian, back when he'd swept snow alone in the palace. After all, wasn't a moonlight-bathed courtyard just like one blanketed in snow? Shen Jue exhaled softly and could almost see his breath crystallize into frost, faint white mist curling into the air.
He'd hoped never to return to those cold days—but in the end, here he was.
The shadows of leaves and flowers swayed in the endless moonlight. The young man in thin robes stood there with a lonely gaze, his eyes like a sorrowful swan's.