Zhao Rucheng, son of a noble house, lay in slumber until the sun began its westering descent. Upon waking, a vague discomfort stirred within him, a nagging sense that something had been overlooked. Had there been a fleeting scent of something sweet and cloying in the air last night?

A sudden jolt of memory sent him upright. He hastily donned his robes and rushed out.

Passing through the courtyard, he spied Jiang Wang diligently practicing his sword forms. In his haste, he tossed a remark over his shoulder: “Third Brother, you should change your bedding. It’s confoundedly hard.”

Without awaiting a reply, he was gone in a flash.

“Ah!”

Jiang Wang called out, but his words were lost to the wind. A knot of bewilderment formed in his brow. “I only just replaced the bedding ten days ago.”

He sheathed his sword and entered his sleeping quarters, searching the bed for a good while without finding anything amiss. It was only when he lifted the entire bedding that he discovered a small shard of wood resting on the bed frame.

“…”

“Through two layers of bedding, and yet he was still pricked by this sliver of wood?”

“Perhaps this is the lot of a pampered son of fortune…”

***

The Cloud Crane of Lingxiao Pavilion differed greatly from common messenger pigeons that flew directly through the air. Nay, it resided within the very fabric of the clouds, merging seamlessly with the vast sea of white. Daoist power encased the message, traversing the ethereal expanse, until, nearing its destination, a cluster of mist was temporarily “drawn forth,” transforming into the Cloud Crane that descended earthward.

Prior to this manifestation, even if one were to capture this energy, deciphering the embedded information was a near-impossible feat, yielding naught but a scattering of fragmented energy.

Thus, Cloud Crane messaging was a method of utmost security.

Ye Qingyu’s missives typically arrived in the twilight hours, shortly after dusk, before night’s complete embrace. This particular letter, however, came a touch later, its delay a mystery.

The Cloud Crane drifted in through the window, and Jiang Wang reached out to receive it. Yet, the Cloud Crane circled once and then fluttered towards Jiang Anan.

“The letter is for me!” Jiang Anan giggled, setting aside the calligraphy copy she had been practicing. Her small hands clasped the Cloud Slip formed from the crane and a memory stone.

“Indeed, it is for you.” Jiang Wang smiled indulgently, leaning closer, ready to share in the contents.

With a sudden movement, Jiang Anan snatched the letter and scampered out. “Not for you to see!”

“…”

Jiang Anan remained hidden within her chambers for a considerable time before finally returning to the study.

“The Cloud Crane?”

“I penned a reply, and it flew back!”

Jiang Wang, engrossed in reading his Daoist scriptures, turned his head. “Brother has not yet penned a reply.”

Jiang Anan cast him a proud glance. “This letter was written to me! It has naught to do with you!”

In those early days, she had merely added a greeting as a postscript to his letters. Yet, in the span of but a short time, she had usurped the Cloud Crane, successfully replacing Jiang Wang as the recipient of these ethereal missives.

Jiang Anan again produced a delightful miniature Cloud Crane, displaying it with childish glee. “Sister Qingyu also sent me a small Cloud Crane! In the future, if I miss her, I can write to her directly!”

The Cloud Crane used for messaging was no mere cloud beast. It possessed the ability to locate its intended recipient and ensure the safe delivery of its cargo. Truly a remarkable treasure.

Consider the esteemed Du Yehu, old man Du, for all his boasts, could only command a foolish soldier to shuttle back and forth, dictating his words. Such a marvel as the Cloud Crane, he had not even witnessed, let alone possessed.

Of course, Jiang Wang himself did not possess one either…

“Very well,” Jiang Wang said with a touch of pique. “If there are words in the letter you do not recognize, or words you cannot pen in your reply, do not come to me.”

“Hmph,” Jiang Anan proudly pointed to the calligraphy copies on her small desk. “I recognize every single word on these!”

“Impressive, truly impressive.” Jiang Wang offered two feeble words of flattery, then returned to his Daoist scriptures.

“Tomorrow I shall purchase new ones for you. Twenty copies!” he silently vowed in his heart.

Anan also picked up her small brush and diligently practiced her calligraphy.

Jiang Wang turned a page, and the oral message from Du Yehu earlier in the day suddenly came to mind. He casually inquired, “Anan, do you sometimes think of a person? Someone around Brother’s age, who left a while ago?”

“Who?”

“Hmm, no one.”

Does Sister Anan definitely miss you? Hmm? Old Tiger Du?

***

At the Three Fen Xiang Qi Lou.

Within Miaoyu’s chamber sat Fang Zeku, the true power behind the Fang family, carefully savoring the fragrant tea.

“Master Fang, what are your thoughts?” Miaoyu inquired softly.

Fang Zeku inhaled the aroma for a moment before setting down the teacup.

“Not particularly good,” he replied, as if evaluating the tea itself.

“You may name your conditions,” Miaoyu said, unperturbed, her smile still radiant.

“No conditions will suffice.” Fang Zeku rose, brushing imaginary dust from his long robe. “Matters beyond my purview, I shall not involve myself in.”

Outsiders whispered of his infatuation, claiming he prostrated himself beneath Miaoyu’s allure. Yet, who knew that within her very boudoir, he remained so resolute?

“Has Master Fang forgotten how the Yun Country trade route came to be?”

Fang Zeku paused his departure, a light laugh escaping his lips. “Regarding the Yun Country trade route, I am deeply grateful for the assistance of the Three Fen Xiang Qi Lou. However, in business, we must settle accounts clearly. I have not fallen short in my payment. We have exchanged coin and goods, no debts remain between us. The esteemed Three Fen Xiang Qi Lou would surely not employ such means to exert pressure, would they?”

“Of course not. If Master Fang is truly unwilling, then we shall not force the matter.”

“I thank Miss Miaoyu for her understanding,” Fang Zeku said, a sigh following his words. “It is not that I am unwilling to assist the lady, but the situation in Yun Country is currently so fraught with tension. No one dares to escort people out of the country. Regardless of the person’s identity, the risk is simply too great.”

Miaoyu smiled charmingly. “Master Fang need not say more. Miaoyu understands.”

“Miss Miaoyu is both understanding and exceptional. This Fang shall take his leave now and trouble you again next time.”

Fang Zeku clasped his hands in farewell and departed.

Gazing at the closed door, Miaoyu’s smile lingered.

“If it were truly a transaction with the Three Fen Xiang Qi Lou, then indeed you have settled accounts, with no debts remaining.”

“But the one who aided you was the White Bone Dao. How could you possibly cleanse yourself of that debt?”

***

In a hidden chamber within the Wangyue Tower.

Fang Heling stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “Have the arrangements been made?”

The steward standing below him bowed his head in reply. “They have been made. But, young master, at this time…”

Fang Heling waved a hand, cutting him off. “Simply do as I instruct. I shall bear all responsibility!”

The steward had served the Fang family for over a decade and understood well Fang Heling’s standing in Fang Zeku’s heart.

Yet, the gravity of the matter still etched a look of difficulty upon his face. “Our family opened this trade route with such difficulty. This person of unknown origin, who knows what crime they may have committed? If investigated by the Yun Country authorities, our entire enterprise will be ruined.”

With Fang Penghu’s demise, the future of the Fang family was not as promising as that of the other two houses. Moreover, the Heart-Devouring Demon had shattered the great array of their ancestral temple, claiming the lives of pillar strongmen and core figures within the clan. The entire Fang family’s prestige now hung precariously. It could even be said that more than half of its support stemmed from this exclusive trade route to Yun Country.

Thus, the Fang family could ill afford to take risks.

However, the current head of the Fang family was Fang Zeku, and the title of clan leader merely awaited the passing of the bedridden old patriarch. Fang Heling, as Fang Zeku’s legitimate son and an inner disciple of the City Dao Academy, wielded authority that this steward could not truly defy.

Due to the urgency of the matter, he had not even had the chance to report to Fang Zeku.

“To you, he is of unknown origin, but to this young master, his identity is clear. You may rest assured. If any problem arises, I shall bear it.”

With a few dismissive words, Fang Heling sent the steward away and exited the secret chamber.

Shortly thereafter, he entered a private room, where the clinking of glasses could be heard.

He was feasting with his fellow disciples there today, outwardly unaware of any arrangements.

If anything were to truly happen, the blame could not possibly fall upon him.