The Inner Court comprised twelve directorates, four offices, and eight bureaus, collectively known as the Twenty-Four Yamen of the Inner Court. Among these, the Directorate of Ceremonial held the highest rank. It was managed by the Grand Chief Eunuch, who wielded authority over the imperial seal, effectively concentrating almost all Inner Court power in his hands.

Emperor Ning, dedicated to Taoist cultivation, had for many years neglected court affairs and governance. Even memorials from officials in the Outer Court had to be endorsed (literally, “marked in red”) by the Directorate of Ceremonial. Because the Grand Chief Eunuch managed all affairs with impeccable order, Emperor Ning specially bestowed a building upon the Directorate, naming it “Jiefan” (Dispeller of Worries) to commend its contributions.

At noon, Wu Xiu respectfully backed out from the shadow of the covered tower, his body slightly bowed. It wasn’t until the sunlight touched him that the red python embroidered on his robe finally regained its vibrant luster. He slowly exhaled, straightened up, and strode briskly toward the pigeon loft. Along the way, any eunuchs who spotted his python robe from a distance immediately knelt in deference. Wu Xiu, however, looked straight ahead, not sparing them even a glance.

Upon reaching the pigeon loft, he dismissed the young eunuch who was cleaning the cages. He then took up a brush at a nearby desk and wrote a note. He meticulously reviewed the note, ensuring the handwriting was impeccable and the message clear, before carefully rolling it into a slender bamboo tube. Wu Xiu approached the pigeon cage marked “Luocheng,” reached inside, and gently retrieved a pigeon. He carefully fastened the bamboo tube to its leg, then stepped outside and released the bird into the sky. He watched the pigeon disappear into the distance, lost in thought.

A young eunuch quickly approached. “Godfather,” he said, “His Majesty has summoned you. Taoist Master Shitu from Mount Huang has arrived with his eldest disciple, Zhang Li.”

Wu Xiu nodded. “Understood,” he replied. He watched the pigeon ascend into the sky, circle once above the imperial city, and then head south. Wu Xiu mused, “Birds in the sky are truly free.”

The young eunuch quickly chuckled. “Godfather, why would you envy a mere bird? Once you reach your potential, you’ll be second only to the Emperor and above everyone else – far more free than any bird.”

Wu Xiu cast a glance at him. Though his eyes remained as still as an ancient well, they made the young eunuch shiver. “Godfather, I spoke out of turn,” the eunuch stammered.

“If you make that mistake again, you’ll be sent to chop firewood at the Firewood Bureau,” Wu Xiu declared, lifting his robe and stepping over the threshold before hurrying towards Renshou Palace in the West Garden.

Meanwhile, the gray pigeon, now high in the sky, first flew out of the vast Forbidden City, then beyond the capital region, soaring over clouds and plains, rivers and mountains. On the first night, the pigeon rested at a pigeon post station in Hebi. On the second day, it continued its direct flight south, finally arriving at a small courtyard in Luocheng on the morning of the third day.

Inside the courtyard, a secret agent in black stood before a sand table, which clearly depicted the layout of the Liu family manor and their ancestral graves. Just then, Yun Yang noticed the pigeon circling overhead. He grabbed a handful of corn, raised his hand, and the pigeon fluttered down to land in his palm.

“Jiaotu! A letter from the capital!” Yun Yang called out.

From inside, Jiaotu responded, “Quickly open it and see what the Grand Secretary has said.”

Yun Yang broke the wax seal and took out the letter. “It’s Wu Xiu relaying a message again; I recognize his handwriting,” he reported. “Wu Xiu says we are to decide for ourselves whether to deploy the Jiefan Guard to open the coffin and conduct an autopsy.”

Jiaotu walked out and leaned against the doorframe. “This is infuriating,” she sighed. “If anything goes wrong, we’ll be the scapegoats. What should we do? Should we proceed?”

“The Grand Secretary didn’t forbid it, which means he wants us to act,” Yun Yang mused, standing in the courtyard. “If we succeed, it will be a great achievement. If not… the mildest punishment would be banishment to Lingnan.”

Jiaotu rolled her eyes. “At least eight hundred of the criminals in Lingnan were captured by us,” she retorted. “Do you really think we’d fare well if we were banished there?”

“What’s there to fear? We’re both high-ranking officials,” Yun Yang replied.

“Dozens of high-ranking officials have been banished to Lingnan by us!”

“Their families are still in our hands; they wouldn’t dare cause trouble,” Yun Yang said cheerfully. “And given our relationship with the Grand Secretary, even if we were banished, we wouldn’t suffer… Wait, why are we talking as if we’re definitely going to be banished? We absolutely will not fail this time! The Liu family is just waiting to have their property confiscated and face charges!”

Jiaotu tilted her head, looking at the note. “What else did the Grand Secretary instruct?” she asked.

Yun Yang lowered his gaze to the note once more. A moment later, his expression changed. “Wu Xiu wants us to give him the information about that masked person from the Liu Residence!”

“What?” Jiaotu exclaimed, her voice tinged with annoyance. “Lin Chaoqing must have complained! Those people from the Chief Penal Department do nothing but complain all day! …But if Chen Ji could become a secret agent, he could still help us earn merit. We could just have him transferred under our command.”

Yun Yang, however, shook his head. “No… What kind of person do you think Chen Ji is?”

Jiaotu pondered for a moment. “…When he’s thinking and doesn’t speak, he seems quite competent,” she offered.

“That’s not what I mean!” Yun Yang frowned. “That night at the Zhou Residence, he killed the steward directly to save his own life. I could tell then that he wasn’t a seasoned killer; there was still hesitation in his eyes. But now, after only a few days, I can hang someone in the imperial prison, and he can calmly stare at it.”

Yun Yang looked at Jiaotu gravely. “Jiaotu, he is a vengeful person; he will never forget how we treated him initially. The Grand Secretary favors clever and unscrupulous people like him. If one day he climbs higher than us, our lives will be forfeit.”

Jiaotu pondered for a moment. “Then should we kill him? The Liu family case no longer requires him anyway. But if the Grand Secretary finds out, he will undoubtedly investigate the cause of death. Whether it’s Black Snake or Golden Pig investigating, we won’t be able to conceal it.”

Yun Yang shook his head. “That’s why we can’t do it ourselves. We must use someone else’s hand.”

“What should we do now?”

“You take the King’s Command Tablet to deploy the Jiefan Guard. I’ll go find someone else to do the deed. Success or failure will be decided today.”

The morning in Luocheng was crisp and invigorating, typical of autumn. It was the ninth day of the ninth lunar month, a day that clashed with the monkey zodiac and held ominous energies in the north, making it auspicious for travel, marriage, prayers, healing, and killing.

Taiping Medical Clinic.

The three apprentice-brothers leaned against the clinic entrance, cheerfully watching the passersby. With the Double Ninth Festival approaching, not only were wealthy families inviting Buddhist deities to parade through the streets to ward off misfortune and evil, but rich merchants were also going door-to-door, distributing “Chongyang cakes.” Taverns displayed signs for chrysanthemum wine at their entrances, and peddlers roamed the streets, selling crimson sachets. Each sachet purchased came with a sprig of dogwood.

Chen Ji sighed, “The Double Ninth Festival is truly lively.” In his previous home, the festive atmosphere was no longer so strong. Firecrackers were banned for the Spring Festival, and both the Dragon Boat and Mid-Autumn Festivals had become commercialized extravaganzas.

“Wait,” Chen Ji suddenly interjected, “How did the Double Ninth Festival originate?”

Liu Quxing casually replied, “You don’t know that? During the Eastern Han dynasty, a plague demon caused havoc in Runan, Yuzhou. A man named Huan Jing sought out the immortal Master Fei Changfang about this. Fei Changfang gave Huan Jing a pot of chrysanthemum wine and a sprig of dogwood, instructing him to take his family to ascend a high place on the ninth day of the ninth month to avoid disaster, as evil spirits would not be able to harm them there. After the ninth day, Huan Jing brought his family down the mountain and found that all their cattle and sheep had died from the disease, but his family had escaped unharmed.”

Chen Ji froze. The origin of the Double Ninth Festival in his previous world was exactly the same. The same Eastern Han dynasty, the same Fei Changfang and Huan Jing. While he could forcibly accept the idea of the same moon and sun hanging in the sky, the identical legendary stories compelled him to ponder: Why? What connection could these two worlds possibly share?

As he was deep in thought, he saw Chunhua from Evening Star Garden approaching from the street, accompanied by two strong servants carrying four food boxes. She Dengke’s eyes lit up. “Chunhua, why are you here?” he asked.

Chunhua, dressed in a light green *ruqun* with an auspicious golden chrysanthemum embroidered on its hem, lifted her skirt slightly and smiled. “It’s the Double Ninth Festival, isn’t it?” she said. “My mistress sent me to deliver some pastries to the clinic.”

Liu Quxing quickly took the pastry boxes from the servants. “Miss Chunhua, that’s very thoughtful of you,” he said. “The last time we had pastries from Evening Star Garden was during the Lantern Festival, and I still remember how delicious they were.”

Chunhua then turned her gaze to Chen Ji, smiling. “My mistress happens to be free today,” she said, “and would like to invite the doctors from your clinic to join her for tea and a chat. What do you think?”

She Dengke immediately exclaimed, “That would be wonderful!”

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Chen Ji noticed Wuyun perched on the eaves across the street, panting heavily. Wuyun let out a meow, a sound only Chen Ji could understand: “Someone told Consort Jing that you are the masked person from Liu Shiyu’s residence. She plans to entrap and kill you!”

Chen Ji’s heart clenched, and an immense sense of dread washed over him. Who could have revealed his identity to Consort Jing? It had to be Yun Yang and Jiaotu, as they were the only ones who knew his true identity. Was it possible that with a major figure about to be caught in the Liu family case, they no longer needed him and were planning to burn bridges?

Chen Ji calmly turned to Chunhua, asking with a smile, “Miss Chunhua, why is Consort Jing inviting us?”

Chunhua explained, “Last time, thanks to your help, you found that cup; otherwise, my mistress would still have been drinking from it. She said before that she wanted to thank you, but she’s been occupied with other matters and only had time today.”

But Chen Ji wasn’t really asking Chunhua; he was asking Wuyun: Why does Consort Jing want to kill me?

Wuyun meowed again: “Consort Jing is a member of the Liu family! Liu Shiyu is her elder sister’s only son. She left the princely mansion a few days ago specifically to return to the Liu family to mourn Old Master Liu!”

So the influential figure in the princely mansion colluding with the Jing Dynasty’s Military Intelligence Department wasn’t Consort Yun, but Consort Jing! But if Consort Jing was indeed that influential figure, why did she initially try to kill him? Did she not know he was a Jing Dynasty spy? Strange, so very strange!

Seeing Chen Ji’s silence, Chunhua waved a hand in front of his face. “Chen Ji?” she prompted. “What are you thinking about?”

Chen Ji snapped back to reality and, smiling at Chunhua, said, “My apologies. It’s the Double Ninth Festival today, and our master has permitted us to go home to reunite with our families. Please convey my apologies to Consort Jing. I’ll definitely come next time.”

With that, he ignored everyone’s surprise and left without looking back. Consort Jing wouldn’t just seek revenge this one time; if she failed now, she would surely try again. Chen Ji wasn’t sure if he could evade her so easily next time, but he knew his revenge would only require one attempt. He murmured softly to himself, “I wonder if there’s still time…”