On the second day of the spring hunt, Mu Hexifeng, the outstanding talent of the younger generation of the Muhe Clan, was found dead in the Western White Forest. His body had been mauled by a tiger, disemboweled with a shattered skull and crushed chest. By the time he was discovered, most of his remains were unrecognizable. Had his mother not been present, no one could have identified the bloody, mangled flesh on the ground as the once spirited and flamboyant young master of the Muhe Clan's main branch.
The atmosphere of the hunt instantly froze. Mu Hexifeng had long led troops on campaigns, possessing exceptional martial skills that made it impossible for thirty or fifty ordinary men to approach him. A single tiger could never have killed him. Moreover, there were no signs of a struggle at the scene—Mu Hexifeng’s sword had not even been drawn. Amidst the thick cloud of suspicion, his father, brothers, and uncles immediately petitioned Emperor Xia, demanding that the Ministry of Justice investigate the case, firmly insisting that Mu Hexifeng had been murdered.
From this point on, the situation spiraled out of control. The Muhe Clan now wielded immense influence, controlling the majority of the court's power. Within the Elder Council, the Mu Clan of Lingnan had always avoided entanglement in the capital's conflicts, the Zhuge lineage remained low-key, the Helian Family had been in decline since the previous generation and served merely as a backdrop in the council, the Shang Clan of Dongyue, founded on religious teachings, held little sway over court affairs, and the northern Batuha Family, entrenched in the northwest, had minimal presence in the capital and had always relied on the Muhe Clan for survival. Now, with the only rival capable of opposing the Muhe Clan—the Wei Clan—having committed a grave error and Wei Shuyou stripped of his position as Capital Prefect, the Muhe Clan, which had produced one Empress and three imperial consorts, naturally became the most powerful and influential family in the realm.
The Nine-City Magistrates entered the hunting grounds to conduct investigations, gather evidence, and interrogate attendees. The Western White Forest was sealed off, strictly prohibiting entry or exit. Even correspondence was closely monitored to prevent the culprit from lurking undetected or escaping. The Daxia imperial family expressed profound sympathy and support for the Muhe Clan's grief, endorsing their full efforts to apprehend the murderer. Consequently, the hunt was forcibly suspended.
In Yan Xun’s camp, located in the southwest of the hunting grounds, the tranquility of night had settled. As a thick bear-skin curtain was lifted, a cold gust of wind swept through the entrance, causing the lamp on the desk to flicker. A man in a moon-white robe looked up, his eyes dark and profound.
“Your Highness, is the young lady not here?”
A Jing’s eyes swept around the tent before he turned to leave. Yan Xun raised an eyebrow and called out, “What is it?”
“The Thirteenth Prince just sent this, saying it’s for the young lady.”
Yan Xun’s brow furrowed slightly as he set down the scroll in his hand. “I see. Leave it here for now.”
“Yes.”
A Jing acknowledged and withdrew. Outside, the wind howled against the tent roof, whistling and drumming. Yan Xun stared at the gently swaying curtain, motionless for a long while, his brow deeply furrowed. His gaze drifted toward the bundle on the desk, and he fell into silent contemplation.
The bundle was plump, wrapped in Suzhou Gu embroidery of purple-gold threaded silk, with Lanhu brocade as the base and a pattern of clear moonlight and white lotuses. Both ends were tightly knotted, concealing its contents.
Yan Xun glanced at it briefly before turning back to his book as if nothing were amiss. The room was so quiet that even the footsteps of passing soldiers outside were distinctly audible. Yet, for some reason, in such stillness, the man grew increasingly restless and found it difficult to focus.He stood up and walked to the nearby tea table to pour a cup of tea. The tea had a delicate fragrance—it was newly delivered tribute tea from Lingnan. Since Zhao Zhengde disliked drinking tea, he distributed it among the palace staff. Lingnan was renowned for its silk and tea, and this particular tea, called "Red Maiden," was said to be harvested at dawn by virgins of impeccable character using only their tongues, making it extremely precious. While its taste might not be significantly better than ordinary tea, its appeal lay in the sensation it evoked while sipping.
Given Yan Xun's status, he naturally had no right to enjoy tribute goods. However, unbeknownst to anyone, the true mastermind behind Lingnan's major tea estates was this secluded Heir of Yanbei, living deep within the palace. Even the Mu family, the local rulers of Lingnan, were unaware of this.
Yan Xun carried the tea back to his desk. The fragrant brew seemed to restore his calm. His eyes slightly narrowed, his expression serene, and his steps steady, yet the moment he sat down, his hand tilted abruptly, spilling the tea.
With a soft splash, the tea soaked into a bundle, quickly seeping through. The man remained composed, quietly watching the liquid spread without a trace of panic. After a long while, he murmured to himself, "Since I've made it wet, I ought to open it and deal with it."
Late at night, Chu Qiao returned. After hearing from A Jing, she went to Yan Xun's tent and asked, "Yan Xun, you wanted to see me?"
"Oh," Yan Xun set aside the book and stood up. His moon-white robe glowed softly under the lamplight. "You're back. It must be cold outside."
"Not too bad," Chu Qiao walked to the brazier, removed her fox-fur hand warmer, and warmed her hands over the charcoal fire. She looked up and asked, "What did you need?"
"Nothing urgent. Yu Hetian came by earlier, probing about my whereabouts yesterday in his roundabout way."
Chu Qiao smirked coldly. "They're like ants on a hot pan now. Yu Hetian has served in the northern border for years, rising from a minor adjutant. During Zhao Che's exile to the frontier, they developed some rapport. If not for Zhao Che's rise, how could he have climbed so high? Now that Zhao Che is in trouble, he naturally wants to lend a hand. But I doubt Zhao Che sent him—Zhao Che is too arrogant to stoop to such tactics."
Yan Xun nodded. "Back when he was in the northern border, he had some dealings with my father and elder brother."
"Yu Hetian is a petty man. He once betrayed Yanbei by presenting terrain maps to the capital, and now he's here sniffing around. If you don't want to deal with him, leave it to me."
"Mm, I'd rather not see him again either."
The lamplight flickered. Chu Qiao shifted her feet closer to the brazier and said, "That's easy to handle. We just need to find a suitable way to let Zhao Che know that Yu Hetian visited our camp tonight. Given his arrogant and suspicious nature, he'll surely become wary and won't bother with whatever Yu Hetian came for. It's better not to get our hands dirty in this."
"Mm," Yan Xun nodded. "Go ahead and arrange it."
"By the way, Yan Xun, was that all you needed me for?"
"No," Yan Xun stood up, went to the rear tent, and retrieved a white jade box. "Ji Wenting sent a garment yesterday, probably in a hurry and grabbed the wrong one—it's a woman's style. You can have it."
Chu Qiao took it, frowning. "Ji Wenting is always sending you gifts. How could he be so careless this time?"Chu Qiao opened it and couldn't help but brighten up at the sight. Lying properly in the box was a magnificent white fox fur cloak. It wasn't made from a single piece of fur but entirely pieced together with marten tails, the fur glossy and smooth without a single stray hair, as soft and sleek as fine silk. The cuffs were adorned with the chest and belly down of white-feathered snow eagles, while the collar shimmered brilliantly, set entirely with dazzling black sea Eastern pearls. It was clearly a top-grade masterpiece at first glance.
Chu Qiao couldn't help but pause in surprise, saying, "Ji Wenting has really spared no expense this time."
Yan Xun didn't respond, simply turning back to his desk.
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