The Wei River was still rising. Even the sky seemed swollen with rain.
The news of Xue Liulan's departure, along with the list of murdered officials, reached Xue Feiyan. Ling Yan finished reading and looked up.
He sat at his desk, paging through the disaster relief accounts. The numbers looked clean, but he knew it was for show. The amount that had actually reached the people was likely pitiful.
"Another murder after Yu Weide?" he asked without looking up.
"Yes. Seven others, killed in the exact same manner."
"What does the Ministry of Justice say?"
"They've ruled it the work of a martial artist, acting outside the law."
"These men were parasites. It's no surprise someone would kill them in the name of justice." He shook his head with a small laugh, his gaze settling on Ling Yan. "What do you think?"
"If that is their judgment," she said, her head bowed, "it means they can't find the killer."
"Precisely. When a case goes cold, they always blame some wandering vigilante." He looked back at the accounts. He stopped. "The person I had you investigate. Any news?"
"The men I sent found no leads. I will go myself."
"No need." His voice was flat. "If my fifth brother's goal was to frame me and force me out, there'd be no reason to kill the others. Some were allied with Guo Shangzhong. He wouldn't damage his own network."
"Yes. I understand." She held the letter to the candle flame. The fire licked at her fingertips, its light flickering across her expressionless face.
He watched her, then tapped the ledger. A smile touched his lips, then vanished.
"Ling Yan."
"My lord." She dropped the embers and stood at attention.
"Did you retrieve these accounts from the Prefect yourself?"
"Yes. No one else touched them."
"No one?" He pointed to a spot in the ledger. "Then what is this?"
She started. She leaned in, but his hand blocked the spot. From her position, she couldn't see. But his tone was serious.
She moved to his side, her head bowed as she tried to see.
He watched her face, so close now, her long lashes fluttering. She looked the same as always when concentrating, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"I don't understand," she said. The ink looked no different from the rest.
She looked up, confused, only to find him already watching her. Their eyes met. She flinched and took two quick steps back.
"Forgive me," she said, her head bowed, her heart pounding.
"Why are you so afraid of me?" he asked, rising. "Am I so terrifying?"
"No. It's not that. It was my place to forget myself." She kept her head down, trying to hide the blush creeping up her neck.
He was about to say more, then stopped. "Did you see what was wrong with the ledger?"
She relaxed, relieved. "Forgive my ignorance. I saw no signs of alteration."
"Of course you didn't." He picked up the ledger. "The entire thing is a forgery."
"What?" She stared. "But I watched the Prefect take it from his secretary. How could it be fake?"
"The entire performance was for your benefit." He sighed. "You've been with me for so long, yet you still don't understand the ways of the court."
She lowered her head. She never seemed to meet his measure.
He saw the dim light in her eyes and patted her head. "I'm not blaming you. The deceptions of the court are not so easily understood."
"Lady Qinyu would have handled it well," she whispered, so softly only she could hear. Or so she thought.
His hand froze on her head. He stared at her for a long moment, then smiled. "Never mind. Tomorrow, you'll come with me."
"Yes." She paused. "If there are no other orders, I'll take my leave."
"Go." He nodded. As she turned, he remembered. "Wait."
"My lord?"
He gestured to her black clothes. "Change out of that tomorrow."
"But…"
"We'll need a disguise. A woman in black is too conspicuous," he explained. "I'll have clothes sent to your room."
She had no choice but to obey.
Xue Feiyan had only made one public appearance before refusing the Prefect's offer of a private residence. He and Ling Yan were staying at an inn. The Wei River had burst its banks, but the city was strangely calm. No refugees, not even a single beggar.
Ling Yan followed him, her gaze fixed on the long, wide sleeves of her dress. How many years had it been? It felt foreign.
He stood before her, and for a moment, he saw her as she was when she first came to him: a young girl, fidgeting in clothes she wasn't used to, her eyes full of fear.
"Not used to it?"
"No," she mumbled.
"You will be," he said, then moved to stand beside her.
A man in an elegant robe, a woman in a silk dress. They were a conspicuous pair.
The innkeeper looked up and saw them heading for the door. The Prefect told me to take care of them. If they go out like that, they'll be robbed blind. Or worse.
He scurried to block their path. "Going out, my lord?"
Xue Feiyan stopped. "We are. A problem?"
"Ah, no," the innkeeper said with a nervous smile. "If you have no urgent business, it might be better to rest."
Xue Feiyan glanced at Ling Yan. "Is the innkeeper afraid I'll skip out on the bill?"
"No, no!" the man said. "A man of your station wouldn't care about a few pieces of silver."
"Then why are you blocking my path?" Though his voice was gentle, his eyes were sharp.
"Well…" The innkeeper was in a difficult position. The Prefect had ordered all beggars cleared from the streets, but you couldn't control starving people. He couldn't tell this nobleman that.
"I'm going for a walk." Xue Feiyan knew the man was hiding something, but he couldn't be bothered. He moved to step past.
"My lord!" The innkeeper reached out. Before his hand could touch the prince, he felt an icy grip on his wrist. The woman.
He froze. A pain like shattering bone shot up his arm. She flung him back several steps. A perfect handprint was already bruising his wrist.
"You dare block my master's path?" Ling Yan's gaze was so cold it stopped the man's cry of pain in his throat.
Xue Feiyan glanced at her and let out a soft laugh. He took her hand. "The innkeeper meant well. Let's go."
The flood had not reached the city yet—but it would.
Behind them, the streets were spotless—and utterly silent.