Chapter Forty-Two: The Field of Unmarked Graves

Clearing his throat twice to mask his embarrassment, Li Yunjie said in a low voice, “I’ve come to ask you to accompany me to the south of the Yangtze.”

“To the south?” Su Qingmeng’s brows knit together. “For what purpose?”

“To find Gu Xian’er,” Li Yunjie blurted out.

“Gu Xian’er, the mistress of Ming Tower?” Su Qingmeng looked utterly perplexed. “My father has searched for her for years without any trace. How do you know she’s in the south?”

“An old friend of Ming Tower told me,” Li Yunjie replied, swallowing back the words he almost uttered.

Su Qingmeng eyed him skeptically from head to toe. “Why are you looking for her?”

Li Yunjie hesitated for a moment before answering, “The lingering illness in your body—she’s the only one who can heal it.”

Su Qingmeng considered this, her voice full of doubt. “You suddenly care so much?”

“It was because you protected me that your old wounds flared up,” Li Yunjie said solemnly. “Seeking a physician for you is the least I can do to repay you.”

A glimmer of light flickered in Su Qingmeng’s eyes as she thought to herself that at least he knows how to return a favor. Yet that light soon faded.

“Even if we find her, what then?” Su Qingmeng murmured. “She may not be willing to treat me.”

“How will you know if you don’t try?” Li Yunjie comforted her. “As a healer, surely she won’t turn a blind eye to someone in need?”

Su Qingmeng fell silent, unable to argue.

Noticing her hesitation, Li Yunjie pressed on, “Even if you won’t do it for yourself, surely you should think of little Xiyan?”

Su Qingmeng’s head shot up. Li Yunjie’s words had struck her soft spot. If they found Gu Xian’er, perhaps Xiyan’s muteness could also be cured.

“Very well, I’ll go with you.”

“Then pack your things—we set out today,” Li Yunjie said with a faint smile. “And be sure to bring Xiyan along.”

With that, he turned and left.

Back in the western wing, Shi Yi wore a mischievous grin. “Young master, I didn’t expect you’d spend the night in Miss Qingmeng’s chamber so soon! How was it?”

Li Yunjie touched the red handprint on his face, then glanced at his own right hand. “Although it was a slap, the feeling wasn’t bad.”

Shi Yi scratched his head, puzzled, but didn’t press further. Judging by Li Yunjie’s expression, he seemed to have enjoyed it.

Before long, midday arrived. After a meal, the group prepared to depart.

The newly appointed steward, Xue Liu, prepared a fine carriage and some provisions for the masters. Perhaps unused to travel, Su Xiyan hesitated at the gate for a long time.

“Xiyan?” Su Qingmeng called gently, seeing her timid expression.

Su Xiyan’s innocent eyes widened as she pouted, clearly unwilling.

Seeing this, Li Yunjie stepped forward with a laugh. “I hear the food in the south is famous throughout the land. Steamed perch, osmanthus lotus root, crabmeat lion’s head…”

He had barely listed a few dishes when Su Xiyan began to swallow hungrily, her eyes fixed on him as her feet involuntarily stepped past the threshold.

“It’s true, I promise!” Li Yunjie patted his chest.

Su Xiyan beamed and skipped onto the carriage.

Su Qingmeng watched in surprise at how effortlessly Li Yunjie communicated with her sister. “You seem to know her well.”

“She’s just a simple, gluttonous girl,” Li Yunjie mused. “If you spent more time with her, you’d understand her like I do.”

Su Qingmeng’s heart rippled with emotion. For years, her days had been filled with cultivation or managing the affairs of the Imperial Guard, leaving little time for Xiyan. She realized she didn’t even know what her own sister liked, and yet this “outsider,” only newly arrived at the prime minister’s residence, understood her better.

A pang of inexplicable sorrow welled up within her. With a sigh, she stepped into the carriage.

After she was seated, the carriage slowly rolled forward, its wheels thudding along the flagstone road.

Meanwhile, in the main hall, Fang Zhong bowed respectfully. “Prime Minister, the young master and ladies have departed for the south.”

Su Ming nodded gravely. “Let them go.”

“The crown prince has many spies in the region,” Fang Zhong warned, his voice tense. “I fear…”

Su Ming dismissed his concerns. “They’re just insignificant riffraff. He can handle them.”

After a pause, his tone shifted. “What is the young master’s current cultivation level?”

“Peak eighth rank,” Fang Zhong replied.

Su Ming pondered this, then said, “Help him break through to the seventh rank. If necessary, let him suffer a little. It may be for the best.”

“Yes,” Fang Zhong agreed.

He hesitated, worry flickering across his face.

“Don’t worry,” Su Ming reassured him. “As long as he keeps a low profile and isn’t mortally threatened, Shi Yi will not intervene.”

“Understood, sir.”

Shi Yi guided the carriage out of the city along Vermilion Bird Avenue.

Passing through Taiping Street, Li Yunjie bought a roast goose for Su Xiyan, her favorite treat. She tore off a leg and offered it to Su Qingmeng, then broke off a wing for Li Yunjie, her eyes sparkling with gratitude.

“No need to thank me,” Li Yunjie laughed. “Once we reach the south, I’ll buy you anything you want!”

Su Xiyan’s eyes shone as she dreamed of her culinary journey ahead.

“It’s rare indeed,” Su Qingmeng remarked, watching Li Yunjie with the goose wing in hand. “For Xiyan to willingly share her food—apart from my father and me, you’re the third.”

Li Yunjie chuckled, “Clearly, I have my charms.”

Su Qingmeng rolled her eyes, her face darkening. “Listen to yourself.”

…

The carriage headed west out of the city, soon arriving at Mount Lu.

Passing the crest, a clearing in a bamboo grove caught Li Yunjie’s attention.

“Shi Yi, stop for a moment.”

He hopped down and approached the grove.

Ahead, beside a gurgling stream, more than a hundred small earthen mounds were scattered.

“A paupers’ graveyard?” Li Yunjie wondered.

Looking more closely, he spotted a fresh grave nearby.

He walked over. On the ground lay a dried wooden stick that made his heart tremble.

“What’s this?” Shi Yi picked it up. “Yu Hu’s walking stick?”

Li Yunjie nodded faintly.

“What’s it doing here?” Shi Yi asked, puzzled.

An image of Su Ming flashed inexplicably through Li Yunjie’s mind. Other than him, he could think of no one else.

“Young master,” Shi Yi said, scanning the graveyard, “why are there no markers on these graves?”

“They’re not missing,” Li Yunjie replied solemnly. “They simply cannot have them.”

He knelt, scooping up a handful of earth and sprinkling it over Yu Hu’s grave.

After a silent moment of mourning, he rose abruptly. “One day, I’ll erect gravestones for them myself.”

Shi Yi didn’t fully understand but nodded quietly.

“Young master!” As they turned back to the carriage, Shi Yi’s face suddenly changed. “There’s movement…”