No one answered from outside.

Qiu Huan smiled, a soft murmur escaping his lips: “Finally, you’ve arrived.” After offering a few words of instruction to Duan Yunhe, he and she stepped out of the room together.

By this time, night had already fallen. In the courtyard, aside from the moonlight, there was only a small lantern for illumination, casting a dim glow that seemed to carry an undercurrent of tension, as if a storm were about to break.

In the backyard of Shuanglin Courtyard stood a massive camphor tree. Normally, under Yuan Mo’s tutelage, guards would always perch on the branches, “standing guard.” But now, Qiu Huan had recalled all of them, leaving the entire courtyard eerily silent.

Duan Yunhe nervously tugged at Qiu Huan’s sleeve.

“Still not coming out?” Qiu Huan called out into the empty courtyard.

No sooner had he finished speaking than a figure gracefully descended from the tree, a drawn long sword in his left hand gleaming with a chilling light.

Duan Yunhe recognized the person’s face and let out an exclamation of “Ah!”—then immediately clapped her hand over her mouth, her almond-shaped eyes wide with disbelief.

“Brother Guanghan, what brings you to Shuanglin Courtyard tonight? If you’ve come looking for Yunhe, it’s rather presumptuous; I’ll have to accompany you after all.”

Qin Yaoyue wore a black gown trimmed with gold, radiating an air of regal elegance and icy aloofness—a far cry from the modest, scholarly demeanor she usually adopted. Compared with Qiu Huan’s calm composure, it was no wonder Duan Yunhe couldn’t remain unfazed. Qin Yaoyue was pursuing her, and even more so, displaying a slightly submissive, almost servile attitude toward the object of her affections—such a sudden change in demeanor was truly startling.

“Fengze shouldn’t be such an unromantic person,” Qin Yaoyue thought. Seeing that Qiu Huan showed no sign of unease, as if he really had come just to admire the moonlight with Duan Yunhe, his admiration—and his caution—both deepened by a notch.

Qiu Huan didn’t even lift his eyelids: “It’s fine that Brother Guanghan hasn’t been poisoned by some strange toxin, but I’m worried Yunhe might be frightened to see the bluish-black discoloration on your hand, so I took matters into my own hands. Please forgive me, Brother Guanghan.” As he spoke, his gaze swept over the right hand that wasn’t gripping the sword—and sure enough, it clearly bore the marks of poison.

Qin Yaoyue remained completely composed as he replied, “Then please hand me the antidote, Fengze. The other day, I saw a rather elegant folding fan in your study and, struck by its beauty, took it home to admire. Who would have thought you’d be so meticulous as to infuse the fan with a deadly poison? I’ve tried countless antidotes, but none have worked. Now I offer you this feather fan—please don’t hold my momentary impulse against me.” Given his true nature, once the truth was out, he wouldn’t waste any more words with her. Still, knowing full well that this poison could be fatal, he had no choice but to brace himself and engage her in a bit of banter.

“Who’d want a fake fan anyway?” said Duan Yunhe. Fortunately, Qin Yaoyue had laid out the whole situation himself; otherwise, she still wouldn’t have quite understood what was going on. Now, though she wasn’t exactly thrilled by Qin Yaoyue’s advances, learning that he was actually an undercover agent did make her feel betrayed, and she couldn’t help but interject at this point.

“Yunhe, that’s a genuine white owl feather,” Qiu Huan said with a slight curve of his lips, clearly in good spirits. “Brother Guanghan should know—I certainly didn’t mean to deceive anyone with a fake.”

Well, if Yuan Mo, Ming Zhen, Yuan Qian, or anyone else in the Tonglou found out about this, they’d go crazy—but Qiu Huan really had done it. She’d told Yuan Mo that she’d placed a fake white owl feather in the box, and out of trust, he hadn’t questioned where the so-called fake came from—in fact, there was no fake at all; from beginning to end, there was only one genuine white owl feather. When Duan Yunhe mentioned someone might try to steal it, Qiu Huan had even deliberately made the secret mechanism in the hidden chamber extra conspicuous!

Before long, Qin Yaoyue had already taken the white owl feather wrapped in black silk and tossed it to Qiu Huan. Qiu Huan reached out, snatched it up, and with a swift motion, pulled back the silk to reveal the fan’s surface. Instantly, a wave of cold air rushed out from the white feathers, making Duan Yunhe, standing nearby, shift uncomfortably.

“What do you want to ask?” At this point, he dropped the act and simply maintained a calm demeanor. Of course, Qin Yaoyue wasn’t one to give in so easily; even when he received the white owl feather, he’d been extremely cautious, yet Qiu Huan had still managed to catch him off guard. If it hadn’t been for “his” orders, Qin Yaoyue would have fought to the bitter end, never returning the white owl feather he’d just obtained.

Qiu Huan waved his sleeve—actually, he brushed against Duan Yunhe, offering her a gentle reassurance—then asked, “You’re with Gray Kite, aren’t you?” Why not guess Eagle (Ming Zhen) or Vulture? Mainly because, seeing Qin Yaoyue’s outfit today, Qiu Huan finally understood something and thus confirmed Qin Yaoyue’s identity.

Just as Qin Yaoyue opened his mouth to reply, a sudden noise echoed from the entrance hall, and both of them turned pale at the same time.

When Shang Rong found himself with a sword held across his throat by Qin Yaoyue, Qiu Huan felt “regret” for the first time in years—the last time was when Cheng Jingtian threatened to force her to bear him a child.

“Brother Shang! What are you doing here!” Duan Yunhe knew things weren’t looking good as soon as she saw the scene.

Watching Shang Rong’s panicked expression, followed by his forced attempt at composure, Qiu Huan deeply felt that she’d been far too merciful—she should have tied him up in Yutang Pavilion! Logically speaking, Qin Yaoyue’s martial arts skills were mediocre at best; against someone like Duan Yunhe, he’d surely lose. But against top-tier masters like Yuan Mo, Ming Zhen, or even Yuan Qian, he’d lose nine times out of ten—let alone Qiu Huan. Yet Qiu Huan couldn’t fight now! She couldn’t even use her light-footed techniques, so she could only watch as Qin Yaoyue gathered his strength and rushed forward to seize Shang Rong, feeling her internal injuries grow even worse.

“Brother Yaoyue, I saw you leave Fengze’s study that day,” Shang Rong thought. With the cold blade just a few centimeters from his neck, he felt a chill run down his spine. The most difficult moment of his life had brought him face to face with Qin Yaoyue. If it hadn’t been for this man, he might have destroyed himself before Qiu Huan could save him—and besides, he harbored an unspoken affection for him. Yet now, the only two people he could rely on in this world had become locked in a “it’s kill or be killed” relationship, leaving him with a bitter taste in his mouth.

At first, Qin Yaoyue’s hand holding the sword trembled ever so slightly, but the tremor stopped almost instantly. His concern for Shang Rong had always been genuine; when he saw him, his first reaction wasn’t joy at having gained a trump card, but rather reproach for why Shang Rong had come to such a dangerous place. If Qin Yaoyue hadn’t truly cared about Shang Rong, he could have simply tied him up and used him to threaten Qiu Huan—and Qiu Huan had seen through that, which is why she hadn’t made any special arrangements for Shang Rong. But who could have imagined that Shang Rong would follow Qin Yaoyue on his own?

“Let him go, and I’ll give you the antidote,” Qiu Huan said in a low voice. Now the situation had truly reversed: she wasn’t sure whether Qin Yaoyue would really harm Shang Rong, nor did she want to take that risk. She’d already decided that once this was over, she must step down immediately! She’d pass this hot potato—the white owl feather—to Ming Zhen. After all, she had no attachment to power; in recent years, the Tonglou under her leadership had consistently leaned toward contraction, so handing it over to Ming Zhen would also be a way to honor her late adoptive father.

Qin Yaoyue received the antidote formula Qiu Huan tossed over—no ready-made medicine—and said in a low voice, “Give me the white owl feather, then swallow this.” He tossed another pill over—clearly poison.

At first, Shang Rong had hoped Qin Yaoyue and Qiu Huan were just playing around, but now his heart sank little by little, his eyes reddened, and he asked Qin Yaoyue in a trembling voice, “Brother Yaoyue, do you know that Fengze saved my life? Right after we parted that day, it was she who ordered Yuan Mo to kill Shang De and send assassins after me!”

“Do you think she’s some kind of saint? The Tonglou, the largest assassination organization—its leader, the White Owl—is none other than your so-called benefactor, Qiu Huan.” Hearing Shang Rong speak so favorably of Qiu Huan, Qin Yaoyue felt a bit uneasy. Shang Rong fell silent for a long while.

“—All I know is that right now, you’re threatening my benefactor with a sword, while it’s Qiu Huan who’s trying to save me.” Shang Rong said coldly, “Brother Yaoyue, if you’d told me about this earlier, maybe I’d have been afraid and kept my distance. But in this situation, how can I possibly turn my back on the one who’s always helped me and listen to the one who wants to harm me? Wouldn’t that make me a despicable, ungrateful traitor, scorned by everyone?”

“A year ago, I lost all my family and loved ones, and it was you who gave me hope again. It was Fengze who saved my life, allowing me to cling to existence. Yes, I have indeed doubted Fengze’s identity and have been trying to find out from Miss Yunhe. But no matter how much I regret it, I should never have missed overhearing her conversation with Yuan Mo that day and instead seen you taking something out of her study. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have grown suspicious of you and secretly followed you to Shuanglin Courtyard. Otherwise, I’d still be living in a fantasy, believing you two were kindred spirits, bosom friends!”

Shang Rong spoke passionately, yet his expression remained calm, leaving Qin Yaoyue somewhat unsettled. He could only say, “Each serves their own master; our positions are different. If you’d stayed by my side all along, you wouldn’t be so angry at her now.”

“Yes,” Shang Rong said with a sad smile, and everyone could tell his emotions were completely out of whack. Duan Yunhe was frantic but didn’t know what to say—she wanted to save Shang Rong, but Qiu Huan was afraid of provoking Qin Yaoyue, so she was held back. She knew her limits and didn’t dare take any rash steps, so she could only stomp her feet in place. “Yunhe, I may not know exactly who you are, but Young Master Zhao really has feelings for you. If possible, please don’t hurt him too much.” This was the first time Shang Rong had spoken without adding the word “Miss,” as Duan Yunhe had wished—but she still couldn’t bring herself to be happy.

“Fengze, I’ve always tried to keep you refined, to make you behave properly, to stop you from wearing men’s clothes and such. Now I realize I’ve been jealous of you—jealous of how freely you can live your life, while I’m stuck in a rigid framework. But thinking about it, it’s really ridiculous: no one ever imposed such a framework on me; everything was my own choice, and yet I still envy others. Maybe, in the end, all the misery I’ve suffered is exactly what I deserve in your eyes.”

“I’ve never thought of it that way,” Qiu Huan shook his head. “Human destiny is predetermined, but all choices are ours. That you were able to leave that home without any attachment—that, in my view, is the wisest decision.”

Shang Rong gave a weak smile upon hearing this: “That’s wonderful—so it seems I’m not entirely worthless in Fengze’s eyes after all.”

“Brother Shang, what’s wrong with you?” Qin Yaoyue grew increasingly anxious as he watched Shang Rong’s behavior and kept asking.

“Brother Yaoyue, you still care about me, don’t you?” Shang Rong’s voice sounded a bit unusual. “Then could you put down the sword? Fengze is my benefactor. I may not care about whatever entanglement there is between you two, but I can’t stand by and watch her swallow that poison you threw over (the one Qin Yaoyue had tossed), or I’ll spend the rest of my life with a guilty conscience.”

End of Chapter 29: Storms Fill the Tower