“My name is Qin Yaoyue; my courtesy name is Guanghan. I’m from Liangqiu Jining,” said the man, dressed in a close-fitting robe with narrow sleeves and tied up with a square kerchief on his head. His demeanor was modest and refined—clearly that of a scholar.

Yet both Qiu Huan and Yuan Mo couldn’t help but feel their lips twitch at the corners of their mouths upon seeing him.

Who could this person be? Why, none other than the poor homeowner they’d encountered yesterday in Gǔyuǎn, who had been forced to flee after Qin Yaoyue’s reckless intrusion into his home—and then had even been knocked unconscious by Qiu Huan’s palm! But how could he claim to be from Liangqiu Jining, when Jining was the capital of the Liangqiu Kingdom, far removed from the lawless frontier of Wúshǔ? And just last night he was still in Gǔyuǎn; today he suddenly appears in Xinxiang. Something about this whole situation reeks of mystery.

“Brother Qin and I actually met before we ever crossed paths here,” Shang Rong explained briefly. “He used to live in Gǔyuǎn, but accidentally offended a local bully there, so he had no choice but to abandon his home and come to Xinxiang to seek refuge. He wanted to find some work here, and since Yùtánggé sells the Four Treasures of the Study, he came to ask whether they were hiring—and happened to run into me just as I was there.”

Qiu Huan and Yuan Mo exchanged a glance, each reading in the other’s eyes an invitation to wait and see what would happen.

Sure enough, later that evening at dinner, Qin Yaoyue began to recount his story: “I spent ten years studying diligently in seclusion, finally passing the spring imperial examination and being appointed to a minor post in the court. But because I lacked social savvy, I offended a powerful minister, and the then-emperor of Liangqiu, finding some pretext, banished me.”

The emperor he spoke of was not the current ruler of Liangqiu, but rather the one who had been assassinated during the war. By this account, Qin Yaoyue had already been away from his homeland for more than three years. Moreover, his tone toward the former Liangqiu emperor showed little respect. Although Wúshǔ was hardly “under the king’s domain,” most people here felt indifferent toward the emperor. Still, Qin Yaoyue had grown up in Liangqiu; it was quite unusual for someone to casually speak ill of his own country’s emperor. Perhaps it was precisely because that emperor had misjudged people, driving Qin Yaoyue into exile and displacement, that he felt such bitterness.

“But at that time, Gaoyang was launching a massive invasion of Liangqiu, with constant warfare along the border. I had no choice but to go into hiding, barely surviving until the new emperor ascended the throne and the fighting finally subsided.” Qin Yaoyue paused, took a sip of tea, and continued, “So I settled down in Wúshǔ. For the past two years, life in Gǔyuǎn was relatively peaceful, but since the beginning of this year, some thug appeared out of nowhere, bullying men and women, committing murder and arson—doing all sorts of evil. He even came after me, demanding all my money. Fortunately, he happened to leave on business at the time; otherwise, I doubt I’d be standing here today.”

“What’s strange is that, to escape that villain, I slipped back to my old home under cover of night last night, hoping to retrieve some hidden valuables. But as soon as I opened the door, I fainted. At first, I thought the villain must have sent someone to lie in wait and ambush me. Yet when I came to, I found myself perfectly fine, and there wasn’t a single sign of disturbance in the house—only a slight ache in the back of my neck. Such a bizarre incident made me even more reluctant to stay there long, so I quickly packed up and left.”

Shang Rong was already familiar with Qin Yaoyue’s past, but this latest episode was entirely new to him. He couldn’t help but exclaim in surprise, “Could it be that you mistook a dream for reality, getting everything mixed up?”

Qin Yaoyue shook his head, looking troubled, neither confirming nor denying. There was yet another detail he hadn’t mentioned: just before losing consciousness yesterday, he thought he glimpsed an extraordinarily beautiful woman lying on a bed—but when he woke up, she was nowhere to be found. This left him feeling strangely unsettled, as if something precious had slipped through his fingers.

If Miss Duan herself were to hear this, she’d surely cry out, “Look at the knight under the moonlight, look at the beauty beneath the stars!” It’s like the sparse plum shadows against the starry sky, or the willow branches reflected in the lake—only things seen in such hazy, indistinct moments are truly the most enchanting.

Back when Shang Rong and Qin Yaoyue first met in Gaoyang Kingdom, they’d already hit it off remarkably well. Now, meeting again in a foreign land, their bond only grew stronger. By the end of the meal, they were already calling each other “Brother Qin” and “Young Brother Shang.” Thankfully, both men were handsome and refined, with elegant manners—truly the sort of genteel figures one might expect among the literati. Otherwise, the atmosphere at the table would have been far too rough and worldly.

Speaking of Duan Yunhe, we can’t help but mention what happened on the way back after dinner: Shang Rong lowered his voice and asked Qiu Huan, “Qiu Fengze, where did Miss Yunhe go? Didn’t she come back with you? Could it be she ran into her family along the way?”

Qiu Huan knew Shang Rong would inevitably bring up the subject, so he didn’t hide the fact that Duan Yunhe was injured. Still, tomorrow Cheng Jingtian was coming, and it wasn’t unlikely that the poison afflicting Miss Duan would be neutralized before long. If that happened, wouldn’t all this talk now be for nothing? So the lazy Qiu Huan simply replied, “Let’s not worry about that for now. * Focus on Brother Qin’s plan to open a shop; we’ll talk more when you’ve got time. I’ve got someone coming tomorrow—don’t go stirring up trouble at Shuanglin Courtyard.”

Hearing Qiu Huan say this, Shang Rong was instantly incensed. How dare he accuse me of causing trouble? Without me, your shop would’ve gone under ages ago! Just you wait and see if I’ll still bother with you next time! With that, he tossed aside any thoughts about Duan Yunhe and turned straight to Qin Yaoyue, practically clinging to him.

Although Qin Yaoyue had no idea that Qiu Huan was saying this to avoid a confrontation between Cheng Jingtian and Shang Rong, he could tell it was just playful banter. After all, he was more than ten years older than Shang Rong and treated him like a younger brother, so he affectionately ruffled his hair. Still, it was odd that Shang Rong and Qiu Huan, who seemed so different, should end up together—and then there was Yuan Mo… Qin Yaoyue quietly sized up the man in black silently following Qiu Huan, then cast a long, searching glance at Qiu Huan himself. Not to mention the woman’s commanding presence, radiating the dignified aura of someone accustomed to high status, yet with a relaxed, carefree air typical of a country slob etched across her brow; even the man by her side, utterly silent, was clearly no ordinary fellow—yet he obediently played the supporting role…

End of Chapter 18: Feeling the Elephant in the Dark