Though he knew Yue'er was standing right behind him, he dared not turn around.

That night, in Crane Spirit Village, it was time for bed, yet Yue’er, troubled by thoughts, could not sleep. She rose and went for a walk through the flower fields. She did not know whether coming with Zhao Chengxian to investigate the case had been right or wrong. If they solved it and earned merit, Xuanyuan Ren would certainly appoint her to office, making it even harder for her to escape. Yet if she refused to investigate, she felt she would be letting down the title of top scholar. After all, one ought to attend to the duties of one’s position. Yue’er was truly caught in a dilemma.

She raised her head to gaze at the bright full moon and asked softly, “If you were me, what would you do?”

She could only entrust her feelings to the moon. It was not that Yue’er lacked a sense of social responsibility; it was simply that the society of ancient times could not tolerate a woman serving in office. If her identity were discovered, death would be her only fate. Yet to let such talent be buried was a pity.

As she walked, Yue’er seemed to hear Zhao Chengxian’s voice. Almost against her will, she moved toward it. Zhao Chengxian was also gazing at the moon. In a daze, he watched its pale radiance and recited the verse he had written for Yue’er:

“Yue’er, your love is etched within my heart;
How many knots have I tied for you?
In dreams, in thought,
My soul lingers, yearning for you.
The wind blows, the raindrops shatter—
I wonder whether the past has turned to ash.
I remember you always; how could we part?
I wonder whether tomorrow
Will lead us back to where we began.”

Whenever Zhao Chengxian saw the full moon hanging high in the sky, he could not help reciting those lines.

This was the first time Yue’er had heard the verse. Her heart filled with emotion and sorrow. Tears streamed down her face, yet she made no sound. In truth, how could Zhao Chengxian not know that Yue’er stood behind him? He simply did not turn around. Perhaps both of them feared that, once they faced each other, they would no longer be able to restrain their feelings.

The night was quiet, but the hearts of these lovers who could not acknowledge one another were anything but calm. Too many reasons had halted their steps. Though they loved each other, they could not claim one another, and the pain of that was something no outsider could understand.

Only after a long while did Yue’er finally turn and walk back, exhausted and weeping. Zhao Chengxian watched her retreating figure. He could not call out and ask her to stay; all he could do was gaze at her in silence.

When Yue’er reached the stone house, she saw that the lamp in Immortal Crane’s room was still lit. She stepped closer, wanting to see whether the walls were covered with paintings. Through the half-open door, she saw that Immortal Crane seemed to be painting something. The room was not filled with his own works, as most people might have imagined, but was furnished quite ordinarily.

Yue’er wondered what he was painting. The longer she watched, the more absorbed she became. Then she accidentally kicked a stone on the ground.

Immortal Crane heard the sound and called out sharply, “Who is there?”

If it had been one of his own disciples, there would have been no reason to skulk about like this. It could only be one of the three young guests staying the night.

Just as Yue’er was feeling terribly embarrassed, Zhao Chengxian’s voice sounded beside her.

“Immortal Crane, it’s me, Zhao Chengxian!”

Yue’er gave Zhao Chengxian a grateful glance. He nodded with a smile, and the two understood each other without words.

Yue’er also smiled and called out, “And me, Yang Wentai!”

How could she let Zhao Chengxian face this alone?

Immortal Crane said flatly, “Come in. Stop sneaking around!”

Somewhat awkwardly, they entered. They had only just begun to apologize when Immortal Crane interrupted them. He placed the freshly completed portrait before Yue’er and Zhao Chengxian and said, “This is what you came for.”

From the very beginning, Immortal Crane had seen that they were not merely visiting to seek an idol. Zhao Chengxian seemed courteous enough, and it was obvious at a glance that he was no ordinary man. Judging from the questions they had asked, Immortal Crane had already guessed the purpose of their visit. His heartless disciple must have caused some kind of trouble. That was why he had spent the night painting this portrait.

Everyone already knew that Immortal Crane was superb at painting animals and landscapes, but no one had expected him to be equally gifted at portraits. Though the man in the painting appeared much younger, it was not difficult to recognize him.

Yue’er could not help exclaiming, “So it was him!”

She had never imagined that a high-ranking court official would commit such a despicable act. The man in the portrait was none other than the father of Consort Shu—Lord Li Jinzhou, Li Zhongcheng.

Immortal Crane asked sternly, “Can you tell this old man what he is called now?”

This man had betrayed his teacher, turned his back on the one who had shown him kindness enough to give him a new life, and brought shame upon the court. The Radiant Sun Kingdom was a nation founded upon Confucian teachings; it could hardly tolerate an unfilial and unrighteous man serving as one of its most powerful ministers. Now they had leverage over Li Jinzhou. There was no longer any need to fear him creating further difficulties for Xuanyuan Ren.

Zhao Chengxian replied, “Li Jinzhou. He is now a high-ranking court minister, and his daughter is even a noble consort in the palace.”

That was all he could say.

Immortal Crane waved for Yue’er and Zhao Chengxian to leave. Understanding his state of mind, they took the portrait and went outside. Once they had left the room, Zhao Chengxian looked at Yue’er and said, “Tell no one about this—not even Feishu and the others.”

After all, this was not yet the best time to bring down Li Jinzhou. They could not allow the Rui faction to become overwhelmingly powerful; the Cheng faction had to be preserved as a counterbalance.

Yue’er nodded. Zhao Chengxian did not distrust Feishu. It was simply that Feishu was impulsive by nature, and if he learned of this, he would certainly be unable to contain himself.

Their mission here could be considered complete. Whatever tomorrow might bring, at least tonight they could sleep soundly.