ACCORDING TO ZHONG HAOMIAO, Yan Xuexing hadn't returned to Qiyue Monastery after he left the banquet. As for his current whereabouts, he didn't know those either. Barring those in seclusion, disciples of any sect were largely sent to wander the lands after their graduation. Perhaps Yan Xuexing had gone on his way south to Chen, or perhaps somewhere else. In any case, he might no longer even be in Qiemo.
As he spoke, Zhong Haomiao became increasingly agitated. Yan Xuexing, he insisted, would never harm innocents. He was a member of a renowned sect who had saved his abbot's life. There had to be an explanation. Perhaps the man who'd come to the banquet hadn't been Yan Xuexing at all.
He could insist all he liked, but they had to find this Yan Xuexing—he was the key to getting answers to their questions.
Not only was a perfectly lovely banquet ruined, Xing Mao was now in a mountain of trouble. He sighed, frazzled, then cupped his hands toward Duan Qihu and Gao Yi. "I'm afraid I've made a fool of myself and allowed you to witness something disgraceful. Thanks to me, Duan-xiong received a terrible scare. I earnestly apologize. Once this matter is resolved, I'll offer you both a formal apology in your own homes. I beg your forgiveness."
He turned to his head steward. "Open the storehouse. Bring out two treasures."
Xing Mao's grandfather had been the ruler of a once-prosperous nation. Though his glory was diminished, his wealth still rivaled that of any monarch. In the storehouse of the Xing residence were treasures Duan Qihu might not obtain with three lifetimes of hard work.
But Duan Qihu snorted coldly. "Please, don't trouble yourself. I'll be taking my leave. I sincerely hope Duke Xing will come to explain himself soon!"
He turned and stalked toward the door, unwilling to remain a moment longer.
Duan Qihu had indeed believed Xing Mao initially had no intention of killing him; he wouldn't have attended the banquet otherwise. But after the maid's poisoning plot had been exposed, he'd seen the ruthlessness in Xing Mao's eyes—saw him itching to finish things then and there. In fairness, Duan Qihu might have done the same himself. If not for Feng Xiao's timely intervention, Duan Qihu's body would likely be cooling on the floor of the hall.
As he passed, he nodded slightly to Feng Xiao and Cui Buqu in gratitude. He had his own doubts about their identities—the idea that a nobleman from Kucha could conduct an impromptu autopsy was preposterous—but there was no point in pursuing it now. Still, Duan Qihu would certainly send a few people to investigate them thoroughly when things calmed down.
Just as he stepped over the threshold, a voice called out.
"Please wait, Duan-xiong," said Cui Buqu behind him.
Duan Qihu didn't so much as turn his head. He climbed up into his carriage without hesitation, only to be promptly treated to another taste of Feng Xiao's strength.
Feng Xiao seemed to drift over like a gentle breeze. Before the guards could blink, he'd grabbed Duan Qihu's arm.
Duan Qihu practiced the Vajra finger technique. He was a first-rate expert who'd defeated countless opponents in his early days. Though he'd let himself go a bit in the last few years, he hadn't forgotten how many wanted him dead, and never neglected his martial arts.
He instinctively moved to block, too late. Numbness spread through his arm, and he was forced to turn and face Cui Buqu.
Cui Buqu ignored Feng Xiao's raised eyebrows, which seemed to be saying: There, that should be enough respect for you, shouldn't it?
Cui Buqu spoke directly to Duan Qihu. "Did you know Yuxiu wants you dead?"
"Who's Yuxiu?" Duan Qihu frowned in confusion.
Cui Buqu had meant to catch Duan Qihu off guard. No matter how cunning one was, if they weren't expecting the question, their face would normally give something away. But Duan Qihu showed no reaction. He really didn't know Yuxiu.
Now that was strange—he didn't know Yuxiu, yet Yuxiu had asked the third steward to kill him.
Cui Buqu changed tack. "Is there some grudge between Duan-xiong and Yan Xuexing?"
"Over the past few decades, my activities have been confined to the border. Perhaps the Tianshan Sect might hold a grudge against me, but I don't know a single soul from Linchuan Academy. I'm grateful for your help today, but this incident took place at the Xing residence—you should be asking Xing Mao instead!"
He turned coolly and stepped into the carriage. This time, Feng Xiao didn't stop him; he and Cui Buqu watched the carriage roll away.
"If he doesn't know Yuxiu or Yan Xuexing, why did his face twitch earlier?" Feng Xiao was now fully invested. "Does he know who wants him dead?"
***
Xing Mao couldn't detain his guests forever. After Duan Qihu's departure, Gao Yi, Cui Buqu, and the other guests also departed one by one.
The lively and bustling banquet thus went out with a whimper.
Xing Mao was deeply vexed. He'd planned to use this occasion to make his mother happy while also reinforcing his prestige. Not only had he failed to achieve either goal, he'd been disgraced before all of Qiemo.
News of his third steward's death would spread rapidly through the city, and everyone would know his subordinates were disloyal. Soon they'd start saying he wanted to off Duan Qihu and Gao Yi and snatch Qiemo for himself. If that had really been Xing Mao's plan, it would be one thing. The problem was he hadn't planned any of it, yet he had no explanation to offer.
Duan Qihu would resent him for this. Perhaps he'd even start plotting his downfall.
"Master, a visitor has arrived." The head steward came forward and held out a note one-handed. Feng Xiao had broken his arm in their earlier tussle, but he had been too busy seeing off guests to tend to it properly and had only managed a hasty bandaging job.
"Turn him away!" Xing Mao waved a hand, distracted and restless. He didn't even glance at the note.
The head steward hesitantly spoke up again. "He said if you saw the note, you'd definitely see him."
Xing Mao snatched the note and opened it. His mouth fell open in shock.
"Master?"
Xing Mao folded the note firmly. "Show him in."
The visitor was quickly brought into the hall. This newcomer was a slender and graceful man; on entering, he removed his veiled hat in deference toward his host.
Xing Mao couldn't care less about the man's appearance. But at the sight of his face, he said, "You're not a Göktürk."
"I don't look like a Göktürk." The man's tone was gentle. "But that's not important. I imagine Duke Xing is in a foul mood. I'd hoped not to bother you…"
"Spare me your dithering!" Xing Mao interrupted.
The visitor smiled, paying no mind to Xing Mao's rudeness. His tone was amiable as he said, "I only wish to say that Duke Xing has missed an exceptional opportunity. Now that Duan Qihu doubts you, I fear if you don't make a move, he'll make one first."
"You think to provoke me? You're a hundred years too early. I won't cooperate with a Göktürk, and I don't need one to tell me what to do!"
The man smiled. "Duke Xing has overseen this city so assiduously for so long. Have you really never thought of restoring the glory of your ancestors? Does Duke Xing imagine the emperor of Sui will leave Qiemo untouched? The moment he gains the upper hand over the Göktürks, he will next recapture Qiemo. When the time comes, I fear Duke Xing will walk the same path as his grandfather and become a stray dog!"
Xing Mao's face contorted in fury. "Get the hell out!"
At Xing Mao's shout, guards rushed into the hall. But they had yet to lay hands on the visitor when a strong wind sent them flying.
Stunned, the head steward grabbed at the man with his uninjured hand. He moved with immense speed, too fast to see clearly.
But the man not only saw, he grasped the chief steward's wrist. Using only his thumb and forefinger, he snapped it with a crack.
Now both the chief steward's hands were useless.
Xing Mao's mouth snapped shut—no longer did he scream at the man to get out. For all he knew, his martial arts were comparable to Feng Xiao's. The entire Xing family combined might be no match for him.
Seeing that Xing Mao was finally listening attentively, the guest sighed and revealed a mocking smile that seemed to ask, Regretting it now?
"How much does Duke Xing know about the couple who claimed to be the nephew of the king of Kucha and his wife?"
Xing Mao frowned. "I knew they were suspicious! Could they be Duan Qihu's people?"
The visitor shook his head. "After Yang Jian ascended the throne, he established the Jiejian Bureau to neutralize his enemies and expand his intelligence network. In turn, Empress Dugu established the Zuoyue Bureau. They are two distinct organizations, but their roles are highly similar. Not only are they possessed of great authority, they also have the prerogative to act first and report later. They're sharp, cunning, and well-versed in the ways of deceit."
He continued, "As for that couple—one is the deputy chief of the Jiejian Bureau and the true power in the organization. The other is the head of the Zuoyue Bureau. Do you think they showed up here today just to partake of your fine wine?" He watched Xing Mao's eyes widen with astonishment.
Xing Mao didn't speak for a long while as he digested this information. "You're telling me the emperor of Sui sent them here?"
The visitor's lips curved. "He who strikes first strikes last. Duke Xing, perhaps now we can sit down for a nice chat."
***
While Xing Mao was meeting with his mysterious visitor, Feng Xiao and Cui Buqu had regrouped at their room in the inn.
The banquet was planned to last until the evening, finishing with singing and dancing. Now, of course, the festivities had all been abandoned. It was afternoon when they returned, the sun bright and skies clear. A small vase of pale-yellow flowers sat on the windowsill, swaying in the breeze.
But they were in no mood to admire them—before them lay a complex case.
Lifting his brush, Cui Buqu wrote down a list of names. His hands were lovely as they moved across the paper, the characters beneath beautiful and fluid as flowing water.
Though Feng Xiao felt that the loveliness of Cui Buqu's hands couldn't compare to that of his own, he could still appreciate a change in scenery from time to time. He watched with rapt attention, a smile wreathing his face.
First, Cheng Cheng and Xing Mao's broker had perished in a fire at the pawnshop. Then they'd seen Yuxiu and the third steward talking in the streets. Finally, the assassination of Duan Qihu had failed, but the third steward had been found hanging in the woodshed.
When Cui Buqu finished, he circled Yuxiu's name.
"Let's assume Yuxiu has a grudge against Duan Qihu and wishes to incite the third steward to kill him, then frame Xing Mao for the deed. He has no need to kill Cheng Cheng and Li Fei."
Feng Xiao agreed. "I only fought Yuxiu briefly, but I could tell he's a proud person. Insignificant nobodies like Cheng Cheng and Li Fei are beneath him. Same with the third steward: if Yuxiu wanted him dead, he would simply kill him. Why waste all that time and energy to make it look like he'd hung himself? Why write those words on his palms? It's inefficient and unnecessary."
"Duan Qihu claims he doesn't know Yuxiu, and that's probably the truth. But then why was he surprised when he heard Yan Xuexing's name? Could he know Yan Xuexing instead?"
Feng Xiao shook his head. "Ququ, don't you know? There's a problem clever people often have."
"Go on," said Cui Buqu.
"They think too much," Feng Xiao said. "And they end up going in circles."
"That's two problems."
Feng Xiao pretended not to hear. "Have you thought of trying a different angle? These may be two separate cases. One: Yuxiu colluding with the third steward to murder Duan Qihu. Two: the deaths of Cheng Cheng, Li Fei, and the third steward."
"It's a good idea. But if you figured it out, does that mean you're not clever?"
Feng Xiao's smile was so radiant it put the vase of yellow flowers to shame. "It means I'm even cleverer than a clever person."
Cui Buqu had encountered many shameless men and women, but he'd never encountered someone who was both this shameless and had the nerve to spend the entire day flaunting it in front of him. He averted his eyes, lest he be tempted to slap that radiant smile off Feng Xiao's face. "Thanks to the death of the third steward, the antipathy between Duan Qihu and Xing Mao has deepened. They were already at odds; now a single spark will send everything up in flames."
"When you put it like that, I feel like you're up to something," said Feng Xiao.
"Aren't you?"
"Well, what's in it for me?"
Cui Buqu made a swift decision. He didn't hesitate—he didn't even blink as he said, "Daddy."
Ever since Feng Xiao had called Cui Buqu Daddy thrice, he seemed to have developed an obsession with the moniker. Every now and then, he tried to make Cui Buqu say it.
"…Your dad's dead. I don't want to be your daddy anymore."
Cui Buqu cocked his head and looked confused. "Then would you rather be my mother?"
Feng Xiao's mouth twitched. "I'm not keen on being your mother either. Tell me what you're planning first."
The corners of Cui Buqu's mouth turned up. "Go big or go home. How do you feel about unifying Qiemo and returning it to the oversight of the imperial court?"