Chapter 24: Undercurrents Part 3

Wei Lingci saw clearly and said only, “You’ve come to tell Xun Changqing that the Pingnan Prince’s Consort has gone missing, and with her, the Defense Deployment Map—Great Qi’s highest military secret. Within half a month, the Borderlands might repeat the tragedy, war reigniting.”

Hearing the Princess Consort’s name, Zi Jin trembled inwardly, light flickering in her eyes. “The Princess Consort hopes I can take the young master away.”

Wei Lingci paused, suspicion surging in her heart. “Do you two correspond by letter?”

“No. Months ago, she told me that if anything changed in the Imperial Capital, I should take the young master away. There was no contact after that, but today I received a letter from the Imperial Capital saying the Princess Consort stole the Defense Deployment Map.”

Zi Jin’s words tautened Wei Lingci’s nerves for half a day before they slowly relaxed. At least, this had nothing to do with Xun Changqing.

In the silent night, it was as if sudden waves crashed ashore. She exhaled deeply and asked, “Where do you plan to take her?”

“The Southwest Region.”

“To the Southwest Region? Leaving aside the long journey, her disappearance from Lingyun Mountain alone would bring pursuit from both the court and Lingyun Sect. Assassins abound—can you alone get her there?”

Wei Lingci stood tall, turning to gaze at the lightless night sky, her eyes clear and bright as day. She sighed, “Taking her away would only harm her.”

Zi Jin’s brows furrowed, cold wind brushing outside. She couldn’t help retorting, “But staying here—Lingyun Mountain has court spies. Someone started surveilling her today, meaning suspicions have begun. Staying is a dead end.”

“Leaving is a dead end too!” Wei Lingci’s face showed no emotion, unwilling to entangle further with Zi Jin’s stubbornness. She stated bluntly, “The court doesn’t suspect her yet. She hasn’t returned to the capital in four years; she’s the Pingnan Prince’s heir. To move against her, they must first move Xun Yi. Such simple logic—why fixate?”

Wei Lingci’s calm demeanor only fueled Zi Jin’s resentment. She snorted coldly, “This doesn’t concern you, so of course you’re composed. At the critical moment, cutting ties with the young master fits your righteous upright sect persona perfectly.”

“You think I’d harm her?” Wei Lingci turned her gaze, staring intently into Zi Jin’s eyes. Her habitually watery eyes suddenly stirred like thunder, sinister and chilling.

Zi Jin had lingered in the kitchen long, seeing her several times—always aloof and indifferent. Now, this fiendish demeanor shocked her.

Amid flickering firelight, she sneered, “Should we rely on you to save the young master? Would you honor master-disciple bonds? Your master is the Lingyun Sect Leader—by disciple loyalty, you should heed him more.”

The barbed words darkened Wei Lingci’s eyes, her tone laced with deep helplessness: “Right now, you can only trust me. Never mind the densely arrayed back mountain—misstep and you’re trapped. Even escaping the mountain, you won’t reach the Southwest Region. Lingyun is the foremost sect; one order from them, and the consequences are beyond you.”

Zi Jin understood all this, but staying meant waiting to die. Gambling everything offered a chance. She stood stunned, mind wandering, unsure whether to trust Wei Lingci, myriad conflicts in her eyes.

Wei Lingci didn’t press her. What she valued was this person’s loyalty—forcing her wouldn’t help. She sat on a stool nearby, gazing at the two candle flames. If Xun Changqing stood there now, she’d be even more hesitant. Over the years, Xun Changqing’s deference to her had grown indifferent beyond respect.

She kept rejecting her goodwill!

A chill of desolation entered her eyes. She murmured to herself, “Don’t tell Changqing about the Pingnan Prince’s Consort. You know her feelings for the Princess Consort. If she learns, she’ll insist on leaving—neither back to the Imperial Capital nor to the Southwest Region is viable. You can go to her now; decide what to say yourself.”

Zi Jin said nothing and turned to leave, signaling she trusted Wei Lingci. She pushed open Xun Changqing’s door and called a few times, but couldn’t wake her.

She turned back to the following Wei Lingci, cold sternness evident. “You drugged her?”

“Just something to make her sleep. Go back first. Tomorrow when you come, tell her you were here tonight, but she was asleep.” Wei Lingci gave detailed instructions, ignoring Zi Jin’s odd look. She bent down, scooped up Xun Changqing, and placed her on the bed.

She undid the ribbon from her hair; ink-black locks slid through Wei Lingci’s fingers. Her gaze wandered, fingertips trembled. She set the ribbon on the table, pulled the inner quilt over her, myriad choking emotions lodged in her throat. The scene pricked her heart like needles.

Her head suddenly ached without warning. She rubbed her temples hard, trying to ease it. Unable to help gazing at the serene, refined sleeping face on the bed—long lashes casting flowery shadows—she trembled, nearly shattering.

Xun Changqing was thirteen; in two years, she’d reach hair-pinning age. That path drew nearer, after traversing mountains and rivers, despair reappearing. This life added the Pingnan Prince’s Consort stealing the Defense Deployment Map.

Why disregard Xun Changqing so? Had her actions these years been to lull everyone?

Pain easing slightly, Wei Lingci returned to her room. Navigating darkness was no issue; she extinguished all lights.

In the silent black night, wind and waves seemed to strike again. She covered her ears fiercely, bones nearly cracking. The roar pierced her hands, straight to her eardrums.

In the latter half of the night, a light rain fell.

Drizzling rain with north wind scattered leaves everywhere.

When Xun Changqing rose, faint morning light entered the room. The window had been open all night; though covered by quilt, the north wind brought chill. She sneezed involuntarily, eyeing the rain-wet window frame. She secretly wondered. She’d clearly fallen asleep at the table last night—why wake on the bed?

Perhaps Master had come at midnight, but why leave the north window open? Likely Zi Jin had come, helped her to bed upon seeing her asleep, and forgot to close the window on leaving.

After a night of cold wind, her head ached fiercely, dizzy. Xun Changqing took two steps and lay back on the bed, pulling the quilt over her face, sinking into deep sleep again. When she woke, it was noon. Gazing at the damp ground, she remembered she was to request leave from Literature Hall this morning—too late now.