Listening at the wall corner

Returning to Xiahe Village, it was noticeably quieter than usual.

Xia Yunhe wore a dark silver-gray outfit embroidered with subtle gold patterns, cinched at the waist with a white jade belt. Over it, she draped a charcoal-colored, cotton-padded jacket with a fur collar and small golden floral embellishments. The garment covered her waist, concealing her identity and warding off the cold; Zhenniang always knew how to keep her warm. Blending seamlessly into the crowd, she no longer drew unwanted attention.

Yet her strikingly handsome face stood out among the ordinary passersby, who would occasionally glance back at her. When she turned into a narrow alley, some wore expressions of disdain.

Deeper into the cramped, silent alley, only the sound of her footsteps echoed. The eaves sagged low, walls were worn and crumbling, and the cracked stone pavement resembled a desolate, lifeless painting. Xia Yunhe was the sole adornment to this bleak canvas.

At the small courtyard of Third Madam’s home, a new gate had been installed, firmly closed. Xia Yunhe tried to push it open, but it would not budge.

So she waited outside. Passersby occasionally cast glances her way, then at Third Madam’s door, before curling their lips into strange smiles and departing.

Everyone knew what Third Madam’s trade was. Xia Yunhe lifted her gaze to the clear blue sky, watching drifting clouds as she waited patiently.

After an indeterminate time, a clear, bell-like laughter rang out.

“Sir, you’ve come.”

She turned to see Third Madam’s face beaming with joy, her skin as radiant as jade. She wore a plain snow-blue cotton robe, carrying a small wicker basket on her arm as she approached and skillfully opened the door.

Looking down, Xia Yunhe saw the basket’s contents: fresh green amaranth, two plump white radishes, some vibrant scallions, a handful of withered dried beans, and a packet of opened chestnuts mixed with melon seeds. There were even leftover candied hawthorn skewers—quite a rich assortment.

Inside, the courtyard was as before. Third Madam opened the room door, and Xia Yunhe followed her inside. The interior was humble: a small table, a stool, and a narrow bed, nothing more.

The room was cold and slightly damp; Xia Yunhe sneezed involuntarily. Third Madam invited her to sit on the stool and asked, “Are you here today to see Master Xu?”

Xia Yunhe nodded. “To check how well the handwriting has been forged.”

“Are you by any chance surnamed Xia?”

Xia Yunhe met her gaze and remained silent.

Third Madam awkwardly chuckled twice. “I heard rumors in the market that a certain Lord Xia once visited here.”

Cutting her off with a smile, Xia Yunhe replied, “I borrowed the wooden ladder to climb over the wall today; it’s uncomfortable to perch on the wall’s edge.”

Then she stood, turned around twice, and patted her clothes. “This outfit is better suited for scaling walls.”

Third Madam giggled. Seeing Xia Yunhe remained unoffended and didn’t cast her a sideways glance like others, she instantly felt at ease and poked her cheek. “Black clothes easily pick up dust; don’t bring a layer of mud back with you.”

After some casual banter, they moved to fetch the ladder.

Climbing onto the wall, they saw Xu Xing leaning against a stone table near a floral waterfall, basking in the sun with a still pale face. Looking closely, the bloodstains from that day had been cleaned, leaving the courtyard fresh and peaceful.

Xia Yunhe called out, “Master Xu.”

Xu Xing turned, stood, and bowed respectfully. “You are very punctual.” Then he returned indoors.

Using Third Madam’s ladder, Xia Yunhe descended into the courtyard. Xu Xing emerged holding two silver-red wax sheets.

She reached for them, but he withdrew his hand and slowly sat on the stone bench by the waterfall, soaking in the sun. “Lord Xia, I’ve heard you’re renowned among the elite, proud of your talent. Why…” He lowered his head, searching for the right words.

“Master Xu is well informed despite staying indoors,” Xia Yunhe said, seizing the wax sheets when he wasn’t looking, then sitting on another stone bench to carefully compare the handwriting.

Unfolding the wax sheets, she was stunned. From the smallest strokes—the rise, apex, fall, and pressure—to the layout, line order, and spirit… it was identical.

[Xia Yunhe, open your eyes wide and look closely. Is this your writing?]

[No.]

[It is your writing.]

[No…]

[It is—you—who wrote it.]

Painful memories surged like waves battering her mind. Clutching the wax sheets, her hands trembled on the stone table, and chills crept down her spine.

Xu Xing noticed her pale face and asked cautiously, “Lord Xia, are you alright?”

He reached out to check on her, but she suddenly lifted her head, eyes flashing coldly, staring him down. Xu Xing shuddered and stepped back.

He stood frozen, wondering why she reacted so strongly just from seeing the forged handwriting.

A noise came from behind. Xu Xing turned to see Third Madam peeking over the wall, supporting herself on the railing as she climbed onto the wall, her face anxious. “Hurry, Master Xu. Let Lord Xia come over. That evil spirit has moved to the alley entrance—I saw it while dumping water.”

Xia Yunhe heard Third Madam clearly and forced herself to calm down, repeatedly telling herself that the past affairs of the Zhaoyu Prison were behind her, and she shouldn’t react so strongly or feel such pain.

But in this state, she couldn’t climb the wall. Xu Xing looked around the courtyard and saw Third Madam had moved the ladder to the other side. She gave a sheepish laugh and whispered, “I’m scared.”

Xu Xing glanced at the room, clenched his teeth, apologized, then helped Xia Yunhe up, pushed open the door, and shoved her under the bed.

“Lord Xia, my apologies. Please calm yourself here first.” He tried to take the wax sheets from her hand, but she gripped them tighter. After several failed attempts, he gave up, laid down the blanket to cover her, and smoothed the bed corner.

Suddenly, Third Madam’s voice came from outside, “Master Chen, want some chestnuts?”

Then a sharp “whoosh” and the sound of falling roof tiles.

Third Madam screamed in fright, “No questions, no questions. I’m leaving, I’m leaving now.”

The half-closed door slammed open with a bang, accompanied by the rustle of a sword sheath scraping fabric.

Chen Haizhou narrowed his eyes, surveyed the room, while Xu Xing discreetly shielded the bed.

“Still not recovered? Why aren’t you resting?”

Xu Xing’s face was pale as he took a breath and lowered his voice, “What are you doing here again?”

Under the bed, Xia Yunhe clenched a wax sheet tightly. Her senses gradually returned as she rubbed the paper, alarm bells ringing in her mind. Damn.

“Zihuai, the other side is settled. When will you move over?”

“I’m not going anywhere. Get lost.”

Chen Haizhou circled the room several times, then picked up a red paper from the floor, which bore several footprints. He blew on it to clean it but suddenly stopped, turning it over carefully, frowning and looking at Xu Xing.

Xu Xing swallowed nervously, unsure what to say.

Chen Haizhou recognized Xu Xing’s handwriting. The flowing, elegant script in his hand was definitely not his. “Why are you helping someone forge handwriting again? Didn’t I say I support you?”

“I’m now serving the Son of Heaven. My monthly salary is worth many characters you write.”

Chen Haizhou was about to say more, but Xu Xing feared his presence would reveal too much. Gritting his teeth, he snatched the wax sheets and pushed Chen Haizhou out, “Get lost. Don’t bother me.”

They left the room, but their conversation still reached Xia Yunhe’s ears.

“I’m a rough man who lives by the sword. You like poetry and couplets, so I learn. You like verses and prose, so I listen. You say I don’t know how to read? I study slowly. I just want you to notice me. Please don’t drive me away.”

No reply, just unbearable silence.

“Zihuai…”

“Get lost! Didn’t I tell you not to kill? Do you ever listen? You think I don’t know what you’re up to? The Nanyuan gold case, the Pingwu marquis case, the Linzhou lacquer carving case, and the Yuanzhou… the blood-stained cloak, involving over a thousand families, countless unjust deaths. You ensnare the innocent, fabricate evidence, kill repeatedly, imprison with cruel laws. I shouldn’t have fed you; you repay kindness with betrayal and imprison me here.”

Xu Xing spoke rapidly, pouring out much.

His voice trembled at the end, then hardened with hatred.

“That day I shouldn’t have saved you. You should have died in the mud.”

Chen Haizhou remained silent for a long while. Xia Yunhe knew they were still at odds.

The winter floor was icy cold. Lying there long, her limbs stiffened. Curled beneath the bed, eavesdropping on whispers in the corner, she silently chanted: When hearing secrets, do not eavesdrop. Do not eavesdrop.

After some time, Chen Haizhou’s calm voice came, “I’m surprised you suddenly spoke to me like this today. Zihuai, you once said you wanted to make a name for yourself. Now that I have the Emperor’s trust, it’s the same as you making a name. You don’t have to…”

“Get lost!” Xu Xing coughed violently.

Chen Haizhou laughed, “I’ll come again tomorrow.” Without looking back, he left.

His words gave Xia Yunhe an insight: what Xu Xing said today was unlike anything he had spoken before. Perhaps his words were not meant for Chen Haizhou, but for her.

A scholar rushing to the capital for exams, trapped by Chen Haizhou in a quagmire, sinking ever deeper, life like drifting weeds in the rain—rootless and aimless. Xu Xing had nothing and hoped this sudden patron might lend a hand.

Or perhaps she was wrong, and Xu Xing was merely venting his frustrations.

The blanket was lifted; light spilled under the bed. Xia Yunhe saw Xu Xing’s pale yet handsome face as he helped her out and sat her on the bench beside the table.

Wiping cold sweat from his brow, his complexion even paler, he asked, “Lord Xia, are you alright?” Noticing her sleeve chilled to the touch, he was startled and hurriedly poured her a cup of water.

“If he finds you here, he’ll surely kill you. That man is a lunatic. You shouldn’t come here these days.”

The young man’s concern was sincere. Xia Yunhe smiled faintly; the cracked white porcelain cup felt icy in her hand, just like the truth—opaque and elusive.

She lowered her gaze and slowly sipped the water, warming it in her mouth before swallowing. Then she met Xu Xing’s eyes and asked, “If someone asked you to forge… treasonous letters, would you do it?”

Xu Xing froze, his pale face flushing red. He pressed his lips tightly and coughed violently, the hoarse sound making Xia Yunhe’s throat itch. She coughed alongside him for a long time.

After a while, he bit his teeth and answered deliberately, “Though I, Xu Xing, am unlearned, I would never commit such a vile act.”

Seeing his furious expression, the striking mix of red and white on his face, Xia Yunhe pressed on, “What if someone forced you to write against your will? What would you do?”

“A scholar’s bones are firm and unyielding. If truly forced to forge words I detest, I would hang myself to prove my heart.”

Xia Yunhe chuckled softly, praising, “Strong character.”

Ning Zhi was unyielding, yet, oh, how he intended to be ice and snow on the clouds, only to be crushed into dust.

After resting a while, Xia Yunhe composed herself, straightened her sleeves, dusted off her robe, and rose to take her leave.

Returning today would surely bring a chill; Zhenniang would scold her again.

Exiting the alley, passing through the bustling street, Xia Yunhe leisurely disappeared into the crowd.

Unbeknownst to her, a pair of eyes watched her leave Xu Xing’s home, followed her to the alley’s exit, and saw her vanish into the other end of the street.

Those eyes belonged to Chen Haizhou.