Xiao Nanhui’s gaze lingered for only a moment before the square-faced man noticed. A sharp, cutting look swept toward her, and instinctively she shifted her eyes away — landing instead on the person standing behind him.
It was a young man with little expression on his face, yet he had been born with a pair of eyes that seemed caught in a perpetual half-smile. Whether from illness or some other cause, he carried himself with a slight, constant stoop. The smoky-grey long robe he wore appeared to be touched with the faintest blush of red, which only served to give his complexion a delicate pallor that blurred the lines between masculine and feminine.
That kind of refinement and fragility — emanating from somewhere deep within — brought to her mind, unbidden, that day in the rear garden of Duke Xuanyuan’s estate. A wave of revulsion swept through her.
The white-clad gentleman at the neighboring table had clearly noticed these two arrivals as well. He reflexively touched his own face, and a drift of white powder fell silently onto the table. He hurriedly brushed it away with his sleeve, a fresh surge of indignation rising in his chest — and the mood for bantering with the lovely young women at his sides entirely gone.
The man in sky blue walked directly toward the innkeeper. The innkeeper, recognizing the newcomer’s formidable bearing, refrained from reprimanding him for the unannounced entrance, and raised one eye in greeting: “Terribly sorry, young sir — this establishment is full. If you want a meal, please find a seat for yourself on that side. As for lodging, you’ll need to try elsewhere.”
A faint air of smug satisfaction spread through the inn at once. Even those in the worst situation — the ones crouching against the wall — felt a swell of superiority. The white-clad gentleman could scarcely conceal the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. In high spirits, he refilled his cup and murmured with satisfaction: “Why lament who arrived early and who arrived late? There has always been a first and a last.”
The man in sky blue seemed entirely oblivious to all of this. He simply reached into his sleeve and placed something on the somewhat greasy surface of the counter: “Has the innkeeper grown so old that his memory fails him? Does he need me to give him a knock to refresh it?”
Countless curious eyes in the inn sneaked glances at whatever now rested on the counter, each person trying to guess what the object might be. Xiao Nanhui also took a look — it appeared to be a slip of paper bearing a red seal.
Yet the innkeeper, who never deigned to regard anyone directly, took one look at that paper slip and wore an expression as though he were beholding his own ancestors. His thin pair of lips actually began to stumble: “So — so it’s Master Zhong. It’s been quite a few years since I’ve seen you. Why didn’t you send word ahead—”
Master Zhong? It couldn’t be.
Her ears perked up. Suddenly the coarse tea in this establishment tasted unbearably bitter on her tongue.
“The innkeeper has already received the silver. What further notice is required?”
The innkeeper gave a dry laugh: “Well, this humble establishment is crude and plain — I ought to have prepared fine wine and good food to welcome you properly.”
The man in sky blue retrieved the paper slip and spoke briefly: “That won’t be necessary. Please, innkeeper, show us the way — my master is feeling unwell and wishes to retire early.”
The innkeeper glanced at the person standing behind the man in sky blue, paused for a moment, then reluctantly and unhurriedly took the room key and headed toward the second floor.
Xiao Nanhui’s gaze had been glued to that brass key marked with the character for “Heaven.” Watching that damnable innkeeper go without so much as a glance in her direction, the flames of fury shot straight to the top of her head.
Fifty taels of silver.
That was a full half year’s wages for a junior squad commander like her.
She stared at the empty noodle bowl before her, feeling stifled to the point of suffocation by the air around her. Even the women’s laughter grated on her nerves. The chopsticks in her hand snapped. She slammed the table and rose to her feet, following those three figures up the stairs. Behind her, Bolao saw what was happening and scrambled frantically to gather the belongings that had scattered across the floor.
“Wait!”
The three people in front of the guest room turned in unison. Standing at the top of the stairs was a tall, handsome young gentleman with his hair bound up, his face bearing an anger he could not quite conceal.
The man in sky blue raised an eyebrow at the sight. The long-robed gentleman maintained the same air of detached indifference. The innkeeper could only give a light cough and put on a look of studied obliviousness: “What is it?”
Xiao Nanhui took long, deliberate strides toward the three of them, drew a deep breath, and first gave a bow of greeting: “Pardon the interruption. I had already paid for this room earlier — the innkeeper was rather swift about accepting that payment, too. Is it your intention now to send me off to sleep in the stable?”
The innkeeper deliberately avoided Xiao Nanhui’s blade-sharp gaze and murmured vaguely: “There is something the young sir may not be aware of — this Master Zhong reserved this room half a year in advance. While I did accept your payment for one night’s lodging, I never specified that the lodging was for tonight.”
She erupted: “I came tonight to take a room — did you expect me to come eight hundred years from now?!”
The innkeeper gave a slippery grin: “The young sir makes a fine joke. As for eight hundred years from now, who can say if this establishment will still be standing — though the young sir will certainly no longer be with us.”
She had never in her life encountered someone so utterly shameless. Furious indignation had cycled all the way back around to a strange calm. She might be young, yet she had charged across battlefields, slain countless enemies, and earned her share of military honors — and yet she was being outwitted by a crooked innkeeper? If it came to it, she would simply settle things by force. With this thought forming in her mind, her eyes had already unconsciously begun sizing up the three men before her — particularly the one in sky blue — calculating her odds.
At this juncture, Bolao also came rushing up the stairs with their bags, took one look at the standoff, and immediately knew Xiao Nanhui had been cheated. She let out a cold laugh and fixed her gaze on the innkeeper: “Brother, that purse at your belt looks admirably stuffed. One wonders what treasures you’ve stashed inside. If someone with ill intent were to notice, all the way out here where the emperor’s reach doesn’t extend — what would you do then?”
Whether it was her imagination or not, at the moment Bolao said those words, the long-robed gentleman who had shown no expression whatsoever seemed to raise his eyebrows ever so slightly.
The innkeeper registered the threat, and a visible retreat entered his manner: “I’m just a businessman — please don’t make things difficult for me, esteemed guests.”
Bolao, an expert at exploiting every opening and driving a hard bargain, pressed the advantage: “This ‘Heaven’ room of yours has a small adjoining chamber, doesn’t it? What if we each take half — us on one side, these two gentlemen on the other?”
The innkeeper instinctively objected: “That won’t do — even though it is an adjoining room, it’s still—”
“No matter.”
The long-robed gentleman who had been silent all along suddenly spoke. Xiao Nanhui was caught off guard.
That voice transported her instantly back to the main hall of Yongye Temple on that day.
The same two words, the same pitch, the same timbre — even that same unhurried, detached quality in his tone was identical.
“Chance acquaintances, met on the road — why make things difficult for anyone.”
Having said his piece, he glanced briefly in her direction, unlocked the door, and stepped into the room of his own accord. With what seemed like a touch of fatigue, he beckoned to the man in sky blue still standing at the door: “Weixiang, I’m feeling a little weary.”
Her gaze became riveted on that hand — a glimpse that came and went in an instant. That slender hand wore a heavy string of prayer beads around the wrist, strikingly familiar to her eyes.
At that, the man in sky blue said nothing more and followed immediately into the inner room. The two of them drew the inner partition closed, lowered the thick curtain, and fell entirely silent.
Xiao Nanhui’s thoughts were still caught on what she had just glimpsed, and she stood in something of a daze. Bolao had already extended her palm toward the innkeeper: “For a proper ‘Heaven’ room, we’re only getting half — the innkeeper should be so kind as to return half the silver.”
The innkeeper’s small eyes squished together with his nose in a pained expression, and he reluctantly produced two silver coins: “I don’t have any small change to make—”
Before he could finish the sentence, Bolao’s swift hand had already reached into his belt pouch, fished out a silver coin, applied pressure with two fingers, and split it cleanly in two.
Bolao tossed one half back to the innkeeper, tucked the other half along with the original twenty taels back into their bag, seized Xiao Nanhui’s hand, and marched triumphantly into the room, slamming the door shut behind them with a resounding bang.
The moment the door was closed, she dropped her voice and spoke urgently: “Bolao, I’ve seen those two men before.”
Bolao gave a noncommittal sound and kicked off her two rain-soaked boots, bowing her head and flexing her frost-stiffened toes on her own.
“The day I went to Yongye Temple, I saw one of them at the entrance to the main hall. His sword was five or six inches longer than the standard length — I noticed it right away.
The other one, I haven’t seen his face before, but I remember his voice. And the prayer beads on his wrist. And also—” She hesitated briefly before forcing herself to continue. “There’s a scent about him. I noticed it in the main hall that day, too.”
“A scent?” Bolao finally looked over. “What kind of scent?”
“Hard to describe. Something like the old incense ash in a temple mixed with some sort of herb. Somewhat bitter. The kind that makes your bones feel cold and your forehead go clear when you smell it.”