Chapter 17

The autumn night was silent, the shimmering ripples of water reflected upon Gu Wan’s face and body. Xie Ci quickly released his grip. Gu Wan couldn’t help but laugh; there was no need to be so flustered. She patted Xie Ci’s shoulder. The youth’s shoulders had broadened considerably; nearly seventeen now, the men of the Xie family matured early, and it seemed he would be no exception. His thighs were still not thick enough—he’d need more nurturing before they could be hugged in earnest. She was amused by her own thoughts.

Gu Wan smiled and beckoned, “Let’s hurry!” Xie Ci nodded. Outside, the sounds of laughter and chatter drifted faintly; they needed to get this man away quickly. Together, they tightly bound the man’s hands, feet, and mouth, one lifting his head, the other his legs. They opened the rear window, used a rope to lower him into the water, then dragged him to the shadowy base of the wall, moving him out of sight.

Inside, the darkness was deep and quiet. The light of the water danced over their hands. Xie Ci glanced up at Gu Wan—her presence made everything easier. Truly, two minds were better than one. He couldn’t imagine facing this vast, uncertain path alone.

“Hurry, hurry,” she pressed.

“Alright.”

They moved swiftly, soon hoisting the man down. He showed signs of waking once immersed, but it didn’t matter; he was securely bound, mouth included. After handling him, they returned to subdue the man’s companions, careful not to disturb the flower maid. The night’s work lasted until the latter half; even the shadowed house was quiet. Whether courtesans or patrons, all slept soundly in the pavilions and corridors. These deputy soldiers were notorious playboys—disappearing for a day or two was nothing unusual. They chose their nights knowing the next day carried no critical duties or shifts.

This was precisely the window Xie Ci and Gu Wan needed.

Back in the small house, Xie Ci dragged the men into the east wing for interrogation, while Gu Wan, having bought dozens of small dishes, arranged them in rows and began mixing cosmetics. She had once devoted herself to mastering imitation makeup; today, her painstakingly gathered powders and tools sufficed.

By the time Xie Ci finished questioning the captives and emerged, she had sorted and blended the powders. She selected two whose physiques and faces matched best, scrutinized them, and quickly began applying makeup to their faces and foreheads.

Absorbed in her work, she toiled until dawn’s first light. At last, she finished, stripped the uniforms from the two men, and dressed herself and Xie Ci in them. As the day broke, they scaled the wall and slipped into the corresponding water pavilion. When morning arrived and people began to leave, the pair yawned and opened the doors, walking out through the main gate as if they belonged.

At daybreak, Suzhou City stirred to life. The side alley and gate of the Governor’s Mansion bustled: night soil collectors, mule carts heading to market, workers changing shifts. It was the busiest, easiest time to blend in.

Now, Xie Ci’s advantages shone. He was intimately familiar with the workings of the army and the Governor’s Mansion. He led Gu Wan through the back alley; one stretched, the other picked his teeth, entering through the side gate reserved for the deputy army’s guards, which led directly to the duty rooms and barracks.

Their luck held. The pale-skinned young deputy soldier was the son of the mansion’s deputy steward, someone of considerable influence in the front house. The youth knew much—which, indirectly, confirmed that Xun Rongbi was indeed imprisoned.

Inside the Governor’s Mansion, guided by the youth’s information, they swapped disguises again, becoming mansion guards. After considerable effort, they finally neared the courtyard where Xun Rongbi was held.

Xie Ci lifted his gaze, a complex expression on his face as he stared at the two-part courtyard. A gnarled, lush old red pine stood like a canopy on the left of the grand front yard. Though the September west wind was cold, the tree’s leaves had not fallen, its verdant branches still upright.

His thoughts surged. This was the very courtyard where he had lived as a child; the great pine had been planted by his uncle, Xun Rongbi, with him. Then, Xun Rongbi had taught him: people were like trees—some lost leaves in adversity, others stood tall through drought and cold.

We should strive to be like the great red pine.

Memories rushed over him. Xie Ci shook his head forcefully, casting them aside. He told Gu Wan, “There’s a drainage channel in this courtyard; we’ll enter through there.”

Naturally, the courtyard where Xun Rongbi convalesced was not heavily guarded—loose outside, tight inside. But after surviving the Iron Gate Temple affair, Xie Ci was aware of the unexpected vulnerability presented by the drainage channel. He estimated it would suffice.

They found a concealed spot, lifted the channel cover, and tried it—it was barely passable. Suzhou, being a key fortress, was built even more meticulously than the Iron Gate Temple prison. Halfway through, they encountered an iron grille.

Fortunately, they were prepared. Each drew a slender bamboo stick from their calf, and from inside that, a precious saw blade.

Two blades broke in succession, but the grille finally yielded. Xie Ci and Gu Wan squeezed through the drainage channel and entered Xun Rongbi’s convalescence courtyard.

They soon discovered that everyone was concentrated in the first courtyard: servants hurried in and out, carrying medicine and water, their faces anxious. Once inside, they stopped and bowed their heads, a look of dread upon them.

They must fear being silenced after the fact.

If Xun Rongbi’s imprisonment was real.

The door to the second courtyard was locked. Only a mute servant opened it with a key to deliver breakfast, then silently left and locked it again.

Xun Rongbi was confined in the second courtyard.

Few guards watched within; at each corner stood a trusted guard. Xie Ci and Gu Wan observed carefully and noticed three vantage points nearby, each commanding a full view of the second courtyard.

The main building’s doors and windows were nailed shut, except for a narrow tray at the base of the main door for food, secured with a gleaming combination lock.

Such locks in ancient times were troublesome—certainly not quick to open.

The mansion’s security was strict, the vantage points omnipresent, but Xie Ci and Gu Wan, through patient observation, discovered a way in.

No matter how well doors and windows were sealed, living people still needed ventilation. In the north, with heating and charcoal in winter, the vents were made larger. They measured—it would be a tight squeeze, especially for Xie Ci, but Gu Wan would manage easily.

The vent was at the top of a small rear wall, its wide eaves shielding it from rain and from the vantage points, offering a workable space. The original design was clever; beneath the vent, the plants grew up to the gallery, now yellowed with autumn but not entirely withered.

When night fell, with dim light, they could slip through.

Now, they faced two problems. First, the vent was sealed with a honeycombed iron plate, locked from inside. To unlock it, one had to thread fine wire in, probe the lock hole, and operate blindly—a difficult feat.

The second problem was even more perilous.

This was the real danger.

If it was a trap, entry would trigger it instantly!

They could imagine every ambush and snare. Even disguised as mansion guards, with escape routes surveyed and multiple backup plans discussed, it was still fraught with uncertainty.

Gu Wan and Xie Ci deliberated; the gallery’s beam could hide only one person.

In such circumstances, two people risking together made little sense. One would open the vent and enter, the other retreat to safety—that was optimal.

If discovered, two targets would be harder to escape.

“Only one can go,” Gu Wan whispered to Xie Ci behind her after observation.

Outside, the wind howled, mingled with the rustling and creaking of the autumn plants. She hesitated. “Let me go,” she said.

Xie Ci replied at once, “No, I’ll go.”

“But can you open that lock?” Xie Ci couldn’t answer.

Gu Wan tapped his shoulder. “Besides, if it’s really a trap, I can escape far better than you.”

Now was not the time for bravado. True, this was Xie Ci’s affair, but under the circumstances, Gu Wan was the better choice.

The lock was one factor; Gu Wan was smaller and more agile. Most importantly, she glanced at the sweat on Xie Ci’s brow. “And look at your face.”

Though it was a cold autumn night, the two impersonated burly guards, layered in armor, and after crawling so long in the tense atmosphere, they were sweating. There was no waterproof makeup in this era; careful as they were, their disguises were starting to blur.

Once they started running, their real faces would soon show.

The pros and cons were clear—Gu Wan had the advantage. If there was an ambush ahead, she’d escape more easily; Xie Ci’s face was far too distinctive.

She nudged his shoulder. “Let me go.”

“Pay attention, be ready to cover me,” she said with a smile. “If I can’t return as a guard, you’ll have to rescue me.”

The autumn weather brought sweat to the girl’s brow. She shed the teacherly demeanor of last night; her young face was innocent.

She smiled, her eyes curving, but showed no fear—she leaned in, whispering.

“Hey, did you hear me?”

Seeing no response, she jabbed him with her elbow.

A surge of indescribable emotion filled Xie Ci. From the start, through everything, her unwavering support and last night’s patient counsel. Through every storm, she was by his side.

Xie Ci knew Gu Wan was right; he had no rebuttal. But in the dim channel, he looked at her and said clearly, “Yuanniang, if you die, when this is over, I’ll cut my own throat to follow you!”

No matter how lightly she spoke, it couldn’t mask the danger ahead.

—If she died, when his father’s vengeance was fulfilled, he would follow her in death.

At that moment, the youth shed all grievance and gloom; all past hatred and last night’s fierce resol