Qi Yanhan's Brothel Airs at the Yamen

With that, she tossed Zhou Yao's belongings out the door.

"Wait—!"

Before she could finish, the woman shoved both her and the beagle outside.

Clothes tumbled to the ground in a heap. Zhou Yao hadn't acquired anything particularly fine in Chang'an, but her bundles held a collection of glass trinkets she'd brought from the Western Regions—large and small. Now shattered by that woman, there was no way to find replacements. It was already midnight; even if the streets boasted inns with empty rooms, they'd long since closed their doors. Besides, she owed money on top of it, and she had no coin left to seek lodging elsewhere.

Zhou Yao stared blankly at the beagle, who lay uncharacteristically quiet on the ground, and sank into thought.

Curfew forbade civilians from wandering about freely, and her bold presence on the empty street naturally drew attention in short order.

"Well, well—who's out strolling at this ungodly hour? Don't know the rules, or don't you value your head?" The official sneered at Zhou Yao, flanked by a squad of guards. "This lord will give you one more chance—go back at once, or don't blame me for being harsh when I haul you to the yamen!"

Seeing her remain unmoving, he signaled his guards with a glance. They pounced, pinning Zhou Yao to the ground in a flash—and even the sprawled-out beagle wasn't spared.

Zhou Yao's heart lurched with panic. Low-ranking officials like this never dealt with court matters, so of course they wouldn't recognize her. If they truly dragged her before the yamen, within the day, some minister would memorialize the incident at court. Then her life would be over!

Her heart began to pound out of control.

"Wer~wer~wer~!" The beagle, now wide awake, started yelping wildly—its voice piercing, and even under restraint, it wouldn't stop. Before long, the guards couldn't hold it down...

"Lord Zhu, hold on a moment. My master has something to say." A voice—commanding yet composed—came from a carriage slowly drawing up behind them.

All eyes turned to see a resplendent carriage approaching. Beyond the bamboo blinds that draped its sides, the gauze screen above was woven from threads of gold and silver; even the tassels were strung with fine jade. Its opulence needed no explanation. The one who'd spoken was merely a servant—the true master sat within.

From inside, a calm voice said, "Lord Zhu, know when to quit."

That single line from the carriage's occupant sent the official prostrating himself in terror.

"This lowly official—how have I offended Prime Minister Qi? I beg you to make it clear."

He tremblingly gestured for his men to release her. Zhou Yao was free, but her numb legs couldn't support her, and she collapsed to the ground.

The man inside the carriage fixed her with a stare so intent it felt almost tangible. Zhou Yao followed the direction of his gaze and caught Qi Yanhan's stern expression—those fox-like eyes, so often filled with a smile, now brimming with worry and... reproach?

Every time she was at her most pathetic, Qi Yanhan was there to see it. And this inn definitely wasn't near Qi Manor.

Zhou Yao turned her face away, refusing to revisit the moment their gazes had met, trying to brush the whole thing off.

Unlike the awkwardness on her end, the moment the beagle was released, it tore off toward Qi Yanhan's carriage with all the urgency of a dog sprinting for its dinner.

It wailed mournfully as it ran—though no one had laid a finger on it. All on its own, it could feign a tragedy that tugged at the heartstrings.

"Aren't you coming up?" Qi Yanhan's voice carried a note of irritation as he watched Zhou Yao ignore him, his resentment simmering. In half a day, she'd been reduced to this sorry state in Chang'an, bullied even by some nobody.

Zhou Yao sat frozen on the ground, afraid to move even an inch—terrified that any slight shift would send the numbness in her legs flooding through her entire body like a burst dam.

From inside the carriage, he lifted the edge of the gauze with his folding fan, then stepped down.

The tension between them somehow sharpened, crackling like drawn swords. The official nearby dared not make a sound, even tactfully shuffling a few steps aside.

The instant Qi Yanhan alighted, he slipped into his customary smile—though anyone with eyes could see it was a smile that didn't reach them.

He approached, bending low to murmur by Zhou Yao's ear: "Your Highness's current attitude is quite hard for me to fathom. You and I had an agreement, and yet now you're avoiding me?"

The fan creaked under his grip, yet Zhou Yao not only remained unruffled but seemed to dance right along the edge of his patience.

"Your Highness is still at an age for play, granted, but surely you could rein it in around me, don't you think? Your Highness..."

The intensity of his gaze was more than Zhou Yao could withstand.

She was just about to explain herself when the beagle, seizing its moment, lunged—its solid skull slamming straight into Zhou Yao's numb leg. Her eyes, which she'd kept shut, flew wide open.

"Aahh!"

Zhou Yao's agonized scream tore through the night, and even Qi Yanhan looked a little taken aback at the sight.

"Wer~wer~wer~wer~wer~!"

The beagle, having bowled into her, showed no sign of remorse—instead, it barked as though it had every right to.

The chaos only wound down once the pins and needles in Zhou Yao's leg finally subsided.

After the official and his men departed, Qi Yanhan pressed her for the full story.

The man's lowered lashes veiled the fleeting smugness in his eyes.

He used his fan to gently cool her; though the night was deep and dew-laden, the midsummer heat was no easy burden for anyone. Since she was, nominally, his "wife," it stood to reason she should have the finest things he could offer. By the same token, her every move ought to fall within his expectations.

With that thought, the smile on his face grew even softer.

After all, the Prime Minister's residence was hardly short on such trifles. Keeping his "wife" lodged outside the estate would hardly bode well for this marriage in name only...

"Your Highness's position is delicate right now—it's not wise for you to roam the city freely. I've taken the liberty of having Duyun prepare a new identity for your use."

Qi Yanhan chuckled lightly and continued, "Though Your Highness arrived penniless, you still managed to find lodging in Chang'an. That in itself is a stroke of luck. Leave the rest to me to handle."

His voice was soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the tone he'd used to threaten the official—so much so that Zhou Yao felt a flicker of confusion. An ordinary person hearing him might've taken Qi Yanhan for some courtesan from a pleasure house, never suspecting he was the scion of a respectable family.

Zhou Yao studied Qi Yanhan without making it obvious, mulling over recent events in her mind. Something felt off, though she couldn't put her finger on it.

Noticing her distraction, Qi Yanhan frowned inwardly, a hint of displeasure rising.

In the moment her attention wandered, he exchanged a glance with Duyun through the sheer curtain. Duyun gave a silent nod in return.

"Your Highness?"

His prompt startled Zhou Yao back to the present, just as the carriage lurched over a bump.

"Ah..." Qi Yanhan feigned losing his balance, tumbling squarely into Zhou Yao's lap.

The scent of sandalwood enveloped her. Only when Zhou Yao's gaze landed on him did Qi Yanhan lift his head, limpid fox-eyes locking directly onto hers.

"Your Highness..." A few strands of his loose hair slipped forward as he murmured, playing at fragility.

Truth be told, after years of sparring wits with Qi Yanhan, this was the first time Zhou Yao noticed a tiny tear mole at the corner of his eye.

They were far too close, and even if she wanted to pull away, there was nowhere to go. His warm breath ghosted across her neck; she could only blush and avert her gaze, staring at the night view thoroughly blocked by bamboo blinds and gauze.

"Th-that... it's smoother now, you can sit over there." Zhou Yao awkwardly urged him away.

Qi Yanhan's breath, warm against the side of her neck, made her cheeks burn. She wanted to shove him to the other side.

"Master, we've arrived."

Duyun's voice from outside cut through the carriage's atmosphere just in time.

Zhou Yao caught the brief stiffness in Qi Yanhan's expression.

"Noted. Duyun, go ahead and get down first." He shot a sidelong glance at the somewhat superfluous Duyun, clearly annoyed.

"Yes."

Once Duyun withdrew, Qi Yanhan turned back with a gaze tender as water. "Your Highness, if you've no objection, you may rest at Qi Manor from now on."

He snapped his folding fan shut, then looked out at the beagle in Duyun's charge, his meaning clear. "Your Highness won't go back on your word, will you?"

Qi Yanhan was invoking the matter of the beagle shattering the jade pendant. Knowing she was in the wrong, Zhou Yao said, "I gave my word; I'll see it through."

He chuckled softly. "Thank you, Your Highness."

His eyes seemed to sparkle with starlight, and in that moment of distraction, Zhou Yao let him guide her down from the carriage.

The warmth of his palm seeped into her skin. Zhou Yao pressed her lips together. "Thank you..."

"Don't say that, Your Highness—we are husband and wife."

That faint, fluttering pulse she'd felt a moment ago was instantly suppressed.

Right. This was a transaction; neither of them needed to invest more feeling than the arrangement demanded.

After a maid led Zhou Yao to a side courtyard, Qi Yanhan shot Duyun a look that held no warmth. He handed the fan to Duyun and snapped, "Fool."

"Your subordinate failed you; I accept any punishment."

Qi Yanhan lowered his lashes. "Never mind. We'll call it even. Have Ling Long clear away the traces at the inn. Don't leave anything anyone could trace."

"Understood."

On the surface, Qi Yanhan was the head of the Qi family, yet his actual grip on power was limited. What surprised Zhou Yao most, though, was that the layout of this estate was exactly as she remembered from childhood.

The side courtyard where the maid had brought her was the same one Zhou Yao had visited as a girl, when her mother, the late consort, had accompanied the Emperor on outings...

"Your Highness!" Ling Long came rushing over and dropped to her knees before her. "This servant failed to protect my mistress. So many years apart, and the princess has grown thin."

Ling Long's tearful expression wrung Zhou Yao's heart—she was the one who'd neglected eating, who'd kept people worrying from ten thousand li away.

She hurriedly helped the woman up, feigning a scolding: "Ling Long, what are you doing? You've been at my side since we were young. Don't you know my nature by now?"

Zhou Yao glanced around the courtyard and said, recalling, "You must have seen my mother too."

Ling Long nodded quickly. "Before the consort passed, she gave me her instructions. I will protect the princess with my life. My lying low here at the Qi family estate was already a sin worthy of death. To see the princess again now is a blessing I can never repay—I would go through fire and water without a second thought."

"Princess, the consort's final wish was that you marry safely and settle down. Now that you and Prime Minister Qi are wed, why not live well together? That way, the consort's wish would be fulfilled."

Zhou Yao looked down at Ling Long, her gaze heavy and unreadable. She deliberately steered clear of that thread, shoving her away with feigned coldness. "Your deed of sale is in your own hands now. You're no slave—so why do you still call me mistress?"

"I... I..." Ling Long's eyes wavered. After a long pause, she said, "I truly wish to stay by the princess's side and serve you."

Her shifty gaze caught Zhou Yao's observant eye. Ling Long wasn't the sort for treachery, but she'd never been one to swear oaths of life and death so easily before, either. Back then, when Zhou Yao had given her the chance to leave, her former temperament would have sent her far away—not back to Qi Manor once she'd heard her mistress had returned.

That single detail refused to make sense. Zhou Yao weighed it silently and waved her off.

As Ling Long turned away, she let out a breath, thinking herself flawless—yet she failed to notice Zhou Yao's eyes tracking her every move.

Zhou Yao couldn't puzzle out what connection Ling Long might have with Qi Yanhan, but the mirror in her heart was clear: Qi Yanhan was keeping secrets from her.

This wasn't the first time she'd stayed at Qi Manor, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

After passing a peaceful night, Zhou Yao rose early and sat by the window, carefully replaying the recent events in her mind. The innkeeper who'd appeared out of nowhere, the way some random passerby had pointed her straight to the Nine Kilns—one thing after another, it all felt a little too coincidental.

Before any thread could come together, Zhou Yao gathered her things and headed out of Qi Manor. There were unfinished ceramics still sitting at the Nine Kilns. She'd go today and try to finish the remaining steps!

"Your Highness, wait." Qi Yanhan's gaze, gentle as ever, fell on her. "Since Your Highness is going out, why not let Duyun escort you? With a carriage at your disposal, it'll surely be more convenient—and might save Your Highness some time."

Zhou Yao arched an eyebrow. A suspicion took shape in her mind.

Feigning innocence, she said, "Let's go."

"Yes." Qi Yanhan's gaze lingered on Zhou Yao's retreating back, his fox-eyes alight with cunning as he calculated what remained.

The carriage was the same one from last night, only this time the streets were lined with onlookers.

When she reached the Nine Kilns, Zhou Yao noticed Chen Yuwen's face was as dark as the bottom of a pot. She didn't dare make a sound, silently sifting the fine sand, washing and draining it until her sweat-soaked front was drenched, beads of perspiration dotting her brow and wiped away by her sleeve.

"Done?" Chen Yuwen lounged in a recliner beneath the shade of a big tree, eyeing her lazily.

She nodded, casually tucking the loose strands of hair back up—quick and neat.

Satisfied, Chen Yuwen patted her on the shoulder. "Alright, head home for today. Come back tomorrow."

Zhou Yao was taken aback, instinctively opening her mouth to refuse—but the sudden turn of events left her caught off guard.

From out of nowhere, the beagle charged in, toppling tables and chairs. The sand she'd just separated and wrapped fell straight back into the basin of water...