Unveil: Jadewind

The western sky was ablaze with the fiery hues of sunset. From beneath the tallest upturned eaves, the faint sounds of music and drums drifted over.

Wei Shufen stood on the veranda, watching several foreign maids in the courtyard bowing and praying toward the direction of the Zoroastrian altar. Leading them was the fair-haired woman "Mi Wei"—the only one among the maids assigned to serve (or rather, monitor) Chai Yingluo and her companion who could speak Chinese with relative fluency.

That day in the room, Mi Wei had claimed she was carrying Yang Xinzhi's child because "after serving Yang Dalang, what should have come did not come." Before Wei Shufen could recover from the shock, she saw Chai Yingluo swiftly grab the beautiful foreign girl's right wrist, closing her eyes to take her pulse.

Indeed, if Mi Wei was spinning lies, she had just met an expert who could see right through them.

The female Taoist finished checking the foreign girl's right wrist, then switched to the left, frowning in thought for a long while. Only when Wei Shufen couldn't hold back and asked, "Sister Ying, what is it?" did she release Mi Wei and shake her head:

"It's too early to tell for certain, but she does have a slippery pulse. Missing her monthly courses is no small matter—we'll have to wait another month or two. If she isn't pregnant, then it's a serious illness."

"It is pregnancy. This servant knows," the fair-haired foreign girl said with a sorrowful yet resolute tone. "I've carried three times before... I understand my body well."

"You've had three children?" Wei Shufen couldn't help but ask. Mi Wei didn't look like a mother raising three kids.

The foreign girl shook her head and explained in her broken accent: The first two times she showed signs of pregnancy, the old women in the household made her drink medicine and used rolling pins to force it out. A few years ago, there was another one—stubbornly resilient, refusing to be dislodged no matter what they tried. In the end, she carried it to term. That was the first time she saw her own newborn, a plump and adorable baby boy, his chubby little hands and feet flailing, his tiny face turning deep red from crying. Yet she only got one glance—her master wouldn't allow her to be distracted with child-rearing. After the midwife cut the umbilical cord, the baby was taken away, and no one ever knew what became of him.

For the first three pregnancies, Mi Wei herself couldn't be sure who the fathers were. This recent one, however, was different—before and after serving Yang Dalang, she hadn't been used by anyone else. With Kang Sabao away from home, things had been quiet, so there was no doubt it was Yang Dalang's seed. She hadn't expected anything from it, but then suddenly, an omen appeared...

"I saw Lady Nana," the foreign girl said reverently, gazing at Chai Yingluo. "The great and almighty goddess, walking with her lion, right before my eyes. Then she transformed into a beautiful woman and a hunting leopard—Lady Nana has a thousand forms, each one meant for the battle between light and darkness..."

Wei Shufen glanced at the plump leopard lounging beside Chai Yingluo. Atun was listlessly wagging his thick tail. She had never seen a real lion before, but... surely they didn't look like this?

"Is your Lady Nana a goddess who protects women during childbirth and ensures children are rightfully claimed by their fathers?" Chai Yingluo asked with a faint smile. The foreign girl shook her head, muttering a long string of what sounded like prayers in her native tongue before explaining that Lady Nana brought fertility and abundance to the world. She knew Han families valued large families—perhaps Yang Dalang would be willing to take her and her child in, might even plead with Kang Sabao for her release if he knew she carried his child."Perhaps this one will be a son," the foreign girl stroked her belly, her green eyes shimmering with hope. "Even if it's a daughter, she will... will be beautiful. Yang Dalang will love her."

Wei Shufen sighed inwardly. Even if everything she said was true, Yang Xinzhi would never acknowledge this child.

His own position within the clan and his parents' household was already extremely awkward—he rarely returned to Princess Wu's residence anymore. Having just begun his official career, he usually lived at Prince Wu's residence in the Great Peace Palace and hadn't yet established his own family. Where would be suitable to place this foreign girl and her child?

In official households of this era, while it wasn't considered a major scandal for young masters to father children with maids before taking a proper wife, it certainly wasn't something to boast about. If grandparents were eager for grandchildren and willing to raise the illegitimate child themselves—like how the current Son of Heaven and Empress took Prince Yue Li Tai's illegitimate eldest son into the palace to raise—that would be one thing. But as for Yang Xinzhi's parents... it would be strange indeed if they showed kindness to this suddenly appearing mixed-blood grandchild born of a lowly mother.

She could understand this clearly, and Chai Yingluo, who was deeply versed in worldly affairs, certainly understood even better. However, the female Taoist didn't point it out directly, instead shifting the conversation to ask Mi Wei about various personnel matters within Kang Sabao's Office of the Protectorate General and the Zoroastrian temple. Her attitude was easy to understand: I can relay messages to Yang Dalang and persuade him to take you out of the Office of the Protectorate General to reunite, on the condition that you obey me and work for me.

The beautiful foreign girl had hesitated and wavered. After all, by her own account, she had been a Kang family slave since she could remember, and after so many years had long since resigned herself to submission without resistance. Moreover, the merchant foreigners dealt with rebellious slaves and runaway maids with cruel severity, making them wish they were dead. But for the child in her womb...

Miscarriages and postpartum complications both lead to deficiency and weakness of the five viscera—many medical cases Wei Shufen had recently read said so—with floating excess yin energy, kidney deficiency, and uterine coldness bringing the danger of permanent infertility... Mi Wei had been forcibly aborted twice, and after her last childbirth had no chance for proper recovery. It was already difficult for her to conceive again. If she lost this pregnancy too, she might never have another chance to be a mother.

According to Mi Wei, Sang Sai and his group of Tuyuhun people had arrived at Kang Sabao's Office in Chang'an around the end of last year. At first it was just Sang Sai and one attendant, bringing much gold, silver, and jewelry. Kang Su-mi took them in but didn't have them do anything. Later, several more groups of Tuyuhun people arrived one after another, making extensive purchases within the residence. An Yan-na and others were drawn into their schemes, not just out of greed for money—there was talk of establishing a merchant group to monopolize trade with the Tuyuhun royal city on the Qinghai route as a base... in short, they had grand ambitions.

While Kang Su-mi was in Chang'an, these people acted with some caution, but after the old Kang left and An San Tuzi took charge, An Yan-na and the others threw all restraint to the wind. A few days earlier, Mi Wei had heard they were forging Fish Tokens and wooden contracts while scouring the Western Market's horse traders for fine steeds, spending lavishly. After that, Sang Sai, An Yan-na, and their whole group disappeared—no one in the residence had seen them since. An San hadn't been lying about that.

An San himself had mostly been absent from the residence these past two days, sending many people out to make inquiries everywhere. Several other groups had come to the Office of the Protectorate General to see Chai Yingluo—An San's agreement with them was that they couldn't leave the small courtyard but could freely receive visitors and exchange messages and goods.The arrivals were all servants from the Purple Void Monastery and Prince Consort Chai’s residence, sent to take away the fat hunting leopard and to deliver various news from the palace and noble households. Wei Shufen listened until her ears buzzed and her vision blurred.

Two matters concerned her most: First, the authorities still had no knowledge of Li Yuangui and his sister’s whereabouts. The imperial guards were searching for Prince Wu, but there was no mention of him being guilty of treason or rebellion. Second, palace envoys were also looking for Chai Yingluo and the two of them, having already visited Princess Pingyang’s residence and Wei Shufen’s father’s residence several times. Naturally, the Purple Void Monastery had also been thoroughly searched. The servants trained by Chai Yingluo were tight-lipped, and so far, no one had dared to reveal their whereabouts.

That evening, servants from the Chai residence delivered several letters along with accompanying tokens. One was a family letter entrusted by Madam Pei to Prince Consort Chai, who then passed it to the High Truth Master for delivery to her eldest daughter. Madam Pei had visited the Chai residence several times, but everyone from top to bottom insisted they had no knowledge of the whereabouts of the two daughters of the Chai and Wei families. Left with no choice, Madam Pei could only leave a handwritten letter.

Thinking of her mother, heavy with child, running around in search of her, Wei Shufen felt a pang of guilt. She took the wooden case containing the letters and returned to her chamber. Sitting on the bed by the window, she steadied herself, taking several deep breaths before slowly opening the case sealed with a strip marked “Letter for Shufen.” She unrolled the paper and silently read, preparing herself for her mother’s stern reprimand.

“To Shufen:

As the spring chill returns, is my daughter well? A month apart has filled me with deep worry. Yesterday, hearing the discussions, I was shocked to learn of your request to marry into the barbarian lands—so distant and wild, the thought wrenches my heart. Your father was also distressed and angry, but your younger siblings knelt around him, and after much sorrow, he relented. Now, all your parents wish is for you to return and remain with your family. As for matters of marriage, they can be discussed later—do not trouble yourself over them. If returning immediately is inconvenient, on the twenty-first, there will be a Dharma assembly at Xing Sheng Temple. You may go under the pretense of sightseeing, and we shall meet there. A mother’s thoughts cannot all be put into words, but I hope for an early reply to ease my anxious heart. Sent with the messenger, not all details are included.

A Niang writes to Shufen, the thirteenth day of the second month.”

Inside the case was also a simple silver hairpin with engraved floral patterns, its luster slightly faded—the very one her mother often wore at home, sent as a token with the letter. Wei Shufen held it in her hand, stroking it absently, tears welling up in her eyes without her realizing it.

Her mother’s tone was far gentler than she had expected, with the reprimand overshadowed by deep anxiety and worry. Reflecting on her own actions—fleeing home to escape marriage, becoming entangled in Princess Linfen’s murder case, then volunteering for a political marriage before the Son of Heaven, and participating in the secret plot of the night raid at Great Peace Palace—each piece of news must have struck her parents like a blow. Her father, experienced and composed, might have endured it, but her mother must have been terrified, unable to sleep at night.

Despite failing to find her daughter time and again, her mother had not given up. She wrote this letter urging her to return home, promising to let bygones be bygones if she did—“all your parents wish is for you to return and remain with your family.” Even the matter of marrying her off to Cheng Yaojin in exchange for fifty thousand bolts of silk could be reconsidered. Realizing this might still not bring her daughter back, her mother proposed a more compromising and humbling solution: on the twenty-first of this month, they would meet at the Dharma assembly at Xing Sheng Temple to talk in person.

Xing Sheng Temple was located in Tongyi Ward, south of the imperial city. It was originally the Tang Duke’s residence, the ancestral home of the current imperial family during the Sui Dynasty. After the Supreme Emperor founded the dynasty and ascended the throne, it was converted into a temporary palace. In the early years of the Zhenguan era, it was donated as a nunnery, housing a statue of Empress Dowager Dou—a gesture of filial piety by the current Son of Heaven in memory of his late mother. Every year on the twenty-first day of the second month, the birthday of Samantabhadra Bodhisattva, which also coincided with Empress Dowager Dou’s birthday, the palace would donate numerous ritual objects to the temple. The nuns would hold grand ceremonies, and noblewomen from imperial and aristocratic families often visited to offer incense and pray for blessings.If Wei Shufen didn’t wish to return home, meeting her mother at the Xing Sheng Nunnery would be quite convenient. On the twenty-first, the nunnery would be crowded with noblewomen and their attendants, making them inconspicuous—and there was no worry about her parents setting a trap to have her forcibly dragged back home… Ahem , where had her thoughts wandered off to?

Holding her mother’s letter, she walked into the outer chamber intending to discuss it with Chai Yingluo, only to find the female Taoist seated by the desk behind a screen, staring blankly at an unfolded letter lying atop it.

She had seen this scene often in recent days and paid it little mind. Walking straight over, she called out, “Sister Ying,” then sat cross-legged beside the desk. A quick glance revealed nothing of the letter’s contents, but she noticed the thick, supple paper with its muted yellow hue, the glossy sheen of the ink, and the plain black lacquered case beside it—unadorned yet unmistakably exquisite in craftsmanship to a discerning eye.

The envelope bore the inscription, “From Aunt to Niece Chai,” in elegant, flowing script. It took Wei Shufen a moment to realize with a start:

“Sister Ying, is this…?”

“Mm.” Chai Yingluo nodded. “A letter from my second aunt.”

Second aunt… That would mean Empress Zhangsun’s Imperial Edict?

So Empress Zhangsun, like her own mother, understood that without drastic measures, they couldn’t be found—but letters could still reach them through the Chai family. Her mother wished to see her, but what of the Empress? Did she also hope for Chai Yingluo to return to the palace and explain the truth of the Great Peace Palace incident in person?

“My aunt didn’t write this in her official capacity,” the Taoist sighed, slowly rolling up the letter. “She made it clear. My grandfather is critically ill, and now both she and my second uncle pin their hopes on my master, the Sage Sun. She urges me to prioritize filial duty and find a way to locate Sage Sun quickly, bringing him to the Great Peace Palace. As for other matters, they can wait. If I trust her, she will ensure my family’s safety.”

Wei Shufen exhaled in relief. At least Chai Yingluo now had a chance to clear her name. But another thought nagged at her: “Sister Ying, do you know where Sage Sun is?”

“How would I?” Chai Yingluo gave a bitter smile. “The venerable master roams the land, healing wherever he goes… But it’s not impossible. Now that spring has arrived, seasonal epidemics are most likely. Last year, several counties in Guanzhong suffered from malaria outbreaks, and many died. I heard Sage Sun was spotted in that area. Sending someone to search the local Taoist temples might yield news.”

Wei Shufen nodded and showed her mother’s letter. Chai Yingluo simply said, “If you wish to meet your mother, I’ll have my family send some attendants to prevent trouble,” offering no objection. Yet Wei Shufen herself hesitated anxiously. After this time away, she felt she could steel herself against her father’s thunderous wrath, but her mother’s tearful, loving gaze was another matter.

Fortunately, the twenty-first was still days away—she didn’t need to decide immediately. Who knew what might happen before then…

That noon, An San Tuzi suddenly hurried into their courtyard. After a brief exchange with Chai Yingluo, the two sprang into action, swiftly gathering a hunting party of about a dozen men and women, along with supplies, before setting out.The two daughters of the Chai and Wei families, wearing long veiled hats, rode in the middle of the procession. Accompanied by foreign slaves carrying falcons and leading hounds, the servants clearing the way at the front bore the wooden tally of the princess’s residence, declaring it was "the Fifth Princess going hunting." The entire group exuded such an air of nobility that the guards at Chang'an’s Golden Light Gate dared not inquire further whether it was the imperial elder sister Princess Guiyang or the imperial daughter Princess Changle. Seeing the gate pass, they simply bowed their heads and let them through.

Once outside the city and beyond the watchtowers’ surveillance, the riders were about to spur their horses into a gallop when shouts suddenly came from behind. A eunuch slave from the Purple Void Monastery, riding a swift horse, hurriedly caught up and pulled Chai Yingluo aside to whisper a few words. Chai Yingluo turned to An Sanlang and said she had urgent business and must head to the southern mountains immediately. "I can’t accompany you to Xianyang to find your son anymore."

An Sanlang’s face darkened at her words. "High Truth Master, we agreed you would see my son and me safely on our way."

"I only promised to escort you out of Chang’an," Chai Yingluo retorted, tossing her head back to indicate they were already beyond the city walls—her promise fulfilled.

"Xianyang’s defenses are also tight—" The bald foreigner blurted out before stopping himself, then rephrased, "What about the young girl with my son? You don’t want her anymore?"

A direct hit.

There was no hope that An Sanlang and his son would return the Seventeenth Princess to the palace themselves. Someone had to take charge and protect the unfortunate girl. Chai Yingluo glanced north, then south, clearly torn.

"Ying-jie, I’ll go!" Wei Shufen volunteered. "I’ll accompany An Sanlang to Xianyang. You can rest easy!"

"You…" The corners of her lips seemed to curl slightly beneath the black veil, and Wei Shufen could almost hear the unspoken words: "What use would you be?"

Fine. If a fight broke out, she, a frail woman with no strength to restrain a chicken, would indeed be useless. But what if there was no fight?

If An Sanlang could control his son and peacefully hand over the Seventeenth Princess to her, she could impersonate someone from the princess’s residence, escort the foreign merchant and his son out of the city, and then deliver the princess to… the imperial guards at the gate, explaining her identity. The guards would likely report it up the chain. With the Yin family siblings at the Great Peace Palace now dead and the palace’s great enemy gone, no matter who ultimately took charge, at least the Seventeenth Princess would be safe. As for Wei Shufen herself… she would leave it to fate.

She didn’t know why Chai Yingluo suddenly needed to rush to the southern mountains but guessed it had something to do with finding the Medicine King Sun Simiao. That was also a serious matter, tied to the Son of Heaven and his consort’s handling of the aftermath of the Great Peace Palace incident. Once the Seventeenth Princess’s situation was resolved, they couldn’t hide forever—sooner or later, they would have to face the consequences of their actions.

The two women locked eyes through their double-layered veils for a moment before Chai Yingluo gave a nod. Turning away, she ordered, "A-Liu comes with me. The rest follow Wei Niangzi—protect her well, understand?" The servants she had brought along chorused their assent.

The Master of the Purple Void Monastery then addressed An Sanlang. "The daughter of Chancellor Wei will accompany you to Xianyang. If anything arises, you may discuss it with Wei Niangzi. As for her status, I need not elaborate. Should anything go amiss, you’ll bear the consequences."

The bald foreigner was reluctant but, seeing Chai Yingluo’s firm stance and unwilling to waste more time, had no choice but to agree. The group split up then and there. Chai Yingluo, accompanied only by the eunuch slave, galloped south along the western official road, while Wei Shufen and An Sanlang’s party headed north, straight for the southern bank of the Wei River.An Yan-na led the way to a secluded private ferry dock, calling for a boat to be untied and ushering everyone aboard. With a push of the pole from the boatman, they set off toward the northern bank in Xianyang territory. As the boat rocked unsteadily, Wei Shufen gazed upstream along the Wei River and noticed the setting sun slowly sinking behind the mountain peaks. It seemed she would have to spend the night outside Chang'an.

After disembarking on the northern bank of the Wei, the group hurried into Xianyang Ferry Town before the gates closed and found a foreign merchant’s shop dealing in mules and horses. The shopkeeper was in the middle of discussing a fodder trade with two Han Chinese dressed as servants when An Yan-na forcibly pulled him aside, much to his visible irritation. After a brief exchange in a foreign tongue, the shopkeeper instructed someone to lead them to the back of the town, where they entered a sprawling, shadowy cluster of workshops.

The layout of these workshops was haphazard—rows of tall, crude earthen huts with almost no decoration, their small, high windows letting in little light. As Wei Shufen walked, she glanced around and spotted several burly men hauling thick sacks of straw out of one hut, realizing these buildings must all be warehouses. The vast area, uniform exteriors, and densely packed structures made it an ideal hiding place.

Even the foreign guide assigned to lead them couldn’t find the destination directly. After circling twice and shouting a few times, he finally led them through a half-open door into one of the earthen huts.

By now, it was completely dark outside. Inside, a small bronze lamp flickered in a wall niche, casting dim light over a straw mat where a bald corpse lay on its back.

An Yan-na let out a wail and collapsed onto the body, trembling.

Wei Shufen rushed forward to examine the scene. Though she had only seen the deceased once before, she recognized him immediately—An Yan-na’s only surviving blood relative, his son An Yan, who had been tasked with guarding the Seventeenth Princess.

Amid his father’s cries of grief, the young, bald foreigner lay with wide, unseeing eyes, his face frozen in an expression of faint surprise. Most of his body was obscured by his father, hiding any wounds or signs of the fatal blow, but his clothes and hair were still neatly arranged, suggesting no violent struggle had taken place.

After searching for so many days, the man they sought was dead here. Wei Shufen could only think, Serves him right. But more importantly—where was the princess he had been guarding?

The lamp in the niche revealed scattered piles of firewood, wooden crates, mats, clay bowls, and bedding in the warehouse, as if several people had been living there for some time. But apart from An Yan’s corpse and the foreigner keeping watch over it, there was no trace of the young girl or any other guards.

The watcher could speak Chinese and, seeing Wei Shufen’s refined attire and veiled hat—markers of nobility—answered politely. He explained that An Yan had been hiding here for days with another foreign youth and a Han Chinese "little maidservant" of about eleven or twelve, all with the shopkeeper’s permission. That morning, someone had entered to fetch fodder and found An Yan stabbed to death, while the other two had vanished.

Earlier that afternoon, a group of officials had already inspected the crime scene—led by two tall youths, one plump and one lean, accompanied by a foreign girl acting as an interpreter. They, too, had pressed for information about the Han girl’s whereabouts. But the shop’s people truly didn’t know; they had only been delivering food and water to the warehouse, where the three had remained quiet and caused no disturbance. Who could have guessed it would suddenly end in murder?Just as he was speaking, An San, who had been crouched over his son's body in grief, suddenly straightened up. He drew his saber with a swift motion, glaring fiercely at Wei Shufen.