Strictly speaking, this was the first Lunar New Year’s Eve Shu Moyun had spent with Cang Xuan.
They had been separated for twenty-one years. Only now, finally, were mother and child reunited.
To mark the occasion, Su Yuanyuan had bought a plump, fat chicken from the villagers of Donglan and simmered it into a rich stew. It tasted exquisite — a celebration of their reunion and, more practically, nourishment to help Shu Moyun regain her strength.
Outside, laughter and the crackle of firecrackers rose from every direction. Shu Moyun listened and felt, for the first time in a long while, the simple certainty of being alive. She smiled.
“You’ve got a sugary tongue, girl,” Shu Moyun teased. “What did you get into earlier — sneak a honeyed pastry behind our backs?”
It was playful ribbing, but Su Yuanyuan’s cheeks flushed crimson. She’d actually shared a roast goose leg with Cang Xuan that afternoon, and he had kissed her. She mumbled, embarrassed, “I didn’t.”
Shu Moyun’s eyes twinkled. “Looks like you did smear yourself with my honey after all.”
Her voice softened. “You poor thing — having to miss your family’s reunion to save me this year.”
Su Yuanyuan answered earnestly, “Aunt Shu, Brother Yunjian, Sister Wangyue — they’re my family too.” She sounded entirely sincere. Wangyue was the elder daughter of the lost Lord of Pingyang in her past life, a sister in all the ways that mattered; Yunjian — Cang Xuan — was her future husband; Shu Moyun, in turn, was her mother-in-law. They really were family now.
After the New Year’s meal they lingered in the courtyard and set off the firecrackers Cang Xuan had bought in town. Red paper fell everywhere like confetti, bright and promising — a fresh start. Su Yuanyuan and Cang Xuan glanced at each other; he met her with a gentle, steady look, and the girl’s smile widened.
By tradition, New Year’s Eve was meant for staying up through the night, but everyone had travelled hard. They were bone-tired, so after the fireworks they went indoors and slept soundly.
At dawn on the first day of the year, Shu Moyun, Su Yuanyuan, and Wangyue took Laifu — the hunting dog who’d been guiding them — and climbed into the carriage Cang Xuan had prepared. They said farewell to the villagers of Donglan and headed north toward Xingzhou.
They didn’t go straight to Shengjing. If the Wang family in Chenzhou noticed Shu Moyun’s disappearance, they might set up ambushes along the direct route. To be safe, they planned to detour: first to Zijiguan on Mount Zitan, then loop from Xingzhou toward Shengjing. Shengjing was ringed by the imperial garrison; once they slipped into that jurisdiction, they could rendezvous with Su Qing and the others and be safe.
The road north from Donglan to Xingzhou followed the official route. No Wang family men trailed them, so the travelers made steady progress and felt reasonably at ease. They didn’t know — no one did — that the villa hidden in the depths of Jiutang Mountain had already been reduced to ash.
Jiutang Mountain, Linhe Village.
Ten days had passed since they sent men into the valley. If the so‑called “Divine Physician of the Apricot Grove” — or rather, his boastful apprentice — truly had any skill, the sick man in the valley would have been treated long ago. This time they hadn’t planned to let the two women who were brought in live, but the hunter who guided them should still have come out to report.
Wang the steward had waited ten days with growing unease. When the hunter failed to return, the steward’s instincts screamed trouble. He gathered a small force and followed the route into the valley.
They threaded their way through mountain paths and a maze of stone, finally reaching the mouth of the cave that led into the valley. A faint smell of smoke drifted toward them. The nearer they came, the stronger the odor grew, and a cold weight settled in Wang’s gut. He quickened his pace.
There were usually two guards posted at the cave entrance. This time there was no one.
They pushed on to the cave’s end and climbed out into the light. The sight stopped Wang in his tracks; his pupils shrank and his legs wobbled.
What had once been a stately mountain estate was nothing but blackened ruins. Timbers lay collapsed, bricks crumbled into heaps, every structure scorched and gutted. The villa had been burned to the ground.
When had this happened? Why had no one warned them?
“Account books! Letters!” Wang barked, urgency making him clumsy with fear. He and his men swept into the ruins, ransacking the charred beams and collapsed walls. Smoke and ash choked the air; every now and then they uncovered a body, burned to a carbon-black husk — the remains of the guards.
Wang drew in a ragged breath. A blaze of that magnitude and no one had come out to report it; the absence of guards at the cave meant they had all perished in the fire.
What about the man and the two women who had been brought into the valley?
Wang’s face darkened. “Spread out. Search every inch. There has to be a body, the ledgers, anything.”
One of his men hesitated. “Master steward, this is grave. Should we send word to our master at the estate?”
Wang’s voice went cold. “Find the man’s body and the account book first. Even if they were burned, I want to see the remnants. I can’t go back empty‑handed.”
The man ran. Within an hour the villagers from Linhe had been summoned and dragged into the valley. At first they were amazed to find such a place hidden within the mountains; then horror replaced wonder when they saw the smoking ruins.
Under Wang’s orders, the villagers cleared and counted. It took two days to sort the wreckage and tally the dead. When the bodies were moved outside and the numbers checked, a man’s voice cracked with alarm.
“It’s wrong! We should have fifty‑nine people — fifty‑three guards, plus Brother Lu, the two servants who led them in, and the prisoner from the cell. That’s fifty‑nine. But we only found fifty‑five corpses. Four are missing!”
Wang’s face went stone‑cold. “You counted wrong.”
“We counted three times,” the man protested. “It’s fifty‑five.”
Another breathless man came running up, more pale than the ashes. “Master steward, I checked the secret chamber — none of the papers show signs of having been burned.”
The world tilted for Wang. He took a stumbling step back, nearly losing his balance.
They had been set up. Someone had planned this — and for them to have been outwitted by two young women… Wang’s temper snapped. He slapped the man who’d suggested they chase after the fugitives. “It’s been ten days. You think I can still track them now? They’re gone!”
He drew a deep, convulsing breath and forced himself to calm. Then, through clenched teeth: “Send a fast horse to Shengjing. Tell our master everything.”
A rider spurred off from Jiutang Mountain toward Shengjing.
At that same hour, Su Yuanyuan and the others’ carriage had reached Guanzhou. They were already a thousand li from Chenzhou.