Chapter Thirty-Two: The Red Luan Star Shifts

Half a month had passed since we returned from the Ghost Market, and I noticed that Yue Qianling kept avoiding me. Even her voice had grown soft and timid, and she would spend all day gazing at her reflection in the bronze mirror, turning it this way and that. I was perplexed—could it be that Yue Qianling had been bewitched during our trip to the Ghost Market? Her whole demeanor was strange, as if she’d taken the wrong medicine—completely out of sorts.

Gu Anqi wanted to go soak in the hot springs beneath the Xiling Snow Mountain, and Xiao Lianshan eagerly volunteered to be her guide, leaving me and Yue Qianling alone at home. Ever since Yue Qianling’s return, our research into the Ming Dynasty’s Thirteen Tombs had stalled. Every time I found a spark of inspiration, Yue Qianling would interrupt with some new errand: shopping, strolling, or any number of trivial pursuits.

During the day, I locked myself in my room; only in solitude could I quietly study those two artifacts. But Yue Qianling always managed to make some noise, as if she were deliberately trying to draw my attention.

At night…

At night, I would slip quietly into Yue Qianling’s room, my right hand slowly reaching for her face, gentle, unhurried. My fingers finally came to rest on her lips—a gesture half-teasing, half-tender—then gradually, my whole hand covered her mouth, pressing down so firmly that her breathing grew labored.

At last, Yue Qianling opened her eyes. The moonlight spilled into the room and landed on the edge of the bed, illuminating my face for her to see. She widened her eyes at me, hesitated for half a second, then realized this was no dream. I blinked, my face just half an inch from hers, watching her without moving.

Just as Yue Qianling was about to cry out, my palm tightened over her mouth. She tried to push me away, only to find her hands were pinned by mine, unable to move. Flustered and embarrassed, she was at a loss.

“What…what are you doing?” Yue Qianling’s voice was muffled, her face flushed with panic and confusion.

Once again, I placed a finger to her lips, then pointed toward the door. Yue Qianling looked over, bewildered, and saw a shadow flit past the entrance—someone was outside!

Startled, Yue Qianling barely had time to react before I yanked her from the bed and pointed to the window, signaling for her to climb out. Her room was on the second floor, overlooking the garden, with a drainpipe conveniently situated beside the window.

The sounds outside the door grew closer. By the time Yue Qianling and I landed in the garden, we heard the door being forced open.

“No one’s in here, search quickly,” someone inside the house commanded.

“Who are they?” Yue Qianling whispered fearfully from the flowerbeds.

“They all know this villa belongs to your father—no one would dare come here to steal unless they were after these two things,” I replied, keeping a sharp eye on the garden beyond the flowers.

Yue Qianling looked down and saw I was clutching the Luoxuan Divine Plan and the Golden Dragon Turtle.

I slipped off my jacket and draped it over her shoulders, keeping my gaze fixed outward. “Just now, I tried to wake you up, but no matter how I called, you wouldn’t budge. Your face was so red I thought you were sick. And your lips kept pouting—what was wrong with you?”

Yue Qianling’s face went crimson. “Who told you to sneak into my room in the middle of the night?”

Her voice was a little too loud, and it alerted those upstairs.

“There’s someone down there! A few of you, go check—leave no witnesses!” someone called down from above.

I seized Yue Qianling’s hand and dashed toward the woods. The villa’s landscaping was lush, filled with flowerbeds and dense trees. Peering out from the thicket, I saw several people emerge from the house, their knives gleaming in the moonlight. Under no circumstances could Yue Qianling and I be discovered—breaking into Yu Leiting’s house to steal was a reckless gamble, and anyone bold enough to come here would think nothing of murder.

Yu Leiting had arranged for us to be alone, withdrawing the security staff and rarely returning himself.

“Have you spotted anyone?” someone outside the woods whispered.

The others shook their heads, alert and wary.

“I heard something in the garden below. I checked inside—nothing. There’s nowhere else to hide except these woods. Search them thoroughly; no one can know we’ve been here,” the leader ordered.

From my vantage point, the man’s silhouette seemed oddly familiar, but it was too dark to see his face.

Footsteps drew closer, accompanied by the sound of blades slicing through the undergrowth. I edged around to shield Yue Qianling with my body. The space was already tight, and now I was pressed right up against her. With every breath she took, her chest brushed against mine, her face growing ever more flushed as she bit her lip.

Knives slashed through the grass, and one nearly struck Yue Qianling’s left side before she realized my intent—I had placed myself in front of her to shield her from harm. In the moonlight, she saw a streak of blood on the blade, and looking down, she realized my right arm had been cut.

She looked up at me in alarm, but I clenched my teeth and shook my head, signaling her not to make a sound.

“We’ve searched thoroughly. Maybe it was just a stray cat in the garden. It’s late—get back to searching for the goods,” the leader urged.

Only when the searchers moved away from the flowerbeds did I breathe a sigh of relief. Blood continued to seep from the wound on my right arm, and Yue Qianling pressed her hand over it in panic.

“Does it hurt?” she whispered, her voice full of concern.

“Don’t move.”

I frowned in silence, staring at Yue Qianling until she grew self-conscious.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked shyly.

“There’s a flower at the end of your brow, and your eyes are moist—like peach blossoms floating on spring water,” I murmured. Gazing up at the stars, I calculated on my left hand. “You’re a Sheep, this is the Year of the Monkey: the Sheep seeks nobility in the trees, your marriage palace is shining, the Red Luan star is moving—ha, you’re lovesick!”

Yue Qianling could hardly believe I’d say something like that at a time like this.

“You’re the one who’s lovesick.”

“I’m not making it up. This is all according to Ziwei astrology. Your annual Peach Blossom star has merged with your marriage palace, the Red Luan star has entered your fate, and there’s a beauty by your side. See? I wasn’t wrong—your fate palace really is stirred by romance. You’ve been back for so long, but I haven’t seen any men around you. So…who is it you’ve fallen for?”

Caught off guard, Yue Qianling lowered her head and mumbled, “It’s your fault for giving me that bronze mirror. Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

“Bronze mirror? What about me giving you a bronze mirror?” I asked, baffled.

“Don’t play dumb. Just because you’ve read a few old books doesn’t mean you know everything. Professor Jiang told me the story,” she said, her face burning, lips pursed. “The lands may be endless, but the fairest is…the one in the mirror.”

“The lands may be endless, but the fairest is the one in the mirror…That’s how Professor Jiang explained it to you?” I asked.

She nodded silently, not daring to meet my gaze.

I frowned for a long while, utterly confused. “That’s a poem Li Huang wrote for his confidante, E Huang. What does that have to do with a bronze mirror?”

Yue Qianling stared at me, furious. “What? So giving me the bronze mirror didn’t mean that?”

“Come on, do I look like someone who’d be so sentimental?” I waved a hand, unable to hold back a bitter laugh. “I gave you the mirror so you could look at yourself before you got angry. You’re a good-looking woman—no need to ruin your beauty with a temper. ‘The fairest in the mirror’—Professor Jiang really does have an imagination.”

Yue Qianling stared at me, dumbfounded, for a long moment. I couldn’t fathom why her face suddenly twisted with rage. She pursed her lips and shouted, “Qin Yanhui!”

I froze, the truth dawning on me: so Yue Qianling’s budding feelings were all tangled up by Professor Jiang’s meddling. I gave her that bronze mirror because its handle was set with a tiny piece of jade. She liked antique jade, and though the stone was small, it was genuine Hetian jade.

Who could have guessed that, in Professor Jiang’s telling, it had turned into “the fairest in the mirror”? What a mess.

I thought to explain myself to Yue Qianling, but later I realized that reading faces was difficult enough—trying to divine what a woman was thinking was many times harder.

After I spoke my true thoughts aloud—

The undergrowth was left in utter disarray, leaves falling all around, and a sharp slap rang out, slicing through the quiet of the night.