53: Chapter 53 Three Women Search for Their Husbands, Turmoil in the Capital

The next day, sunlight spilled onto the bluestone-paved road of the capital's eastern market, the clatter of horse hooves echoing steadily.

Leng Shuang rode a white horse onto the main street, her gaze sweeping over the shops on both sides, her expression stern.

She had already circled the city three times, from South Alley to Bookstore Street, and even to the tea stalls outside the imperial city, yet she hadn't caught a glimpse of that figure.

Zhao Hongling galloped over from the other end, her red skirt fluttering, her golden armor clinking.

She abruptly reined in her horse in front of a tavern, jumped down, and charged inside, shouting, "Innkeeper! Did a fellow in a blue cloth robe, who liked to rub his nose, come by in the last couple of days?"

The innkeeper, busy wiping a table, was startled by her, stammering, "Th-this... young lady, are you perhaps referring to the champion of the Husband Selection Ceremony?"

"Spare me the nonsense, did you see him or not?" She slammed a palm on the counter, making the teapot jump three times.

The innkeeper cowered, nodding, "He was here! Just yesterday, he drank a bowl of noodle soup here. Before leaving, he asked where the old Wang family grave from the Ministry of Rites was, and then he left."

Zhao Hongling's eyebrows shot up. Just as she was about to press further, she suddenly heard a light, sharp command from behind: "Stop."

Leng Shuang, who had somehow appeared at the doorway, one hand resting on her sword, looked at her with a clear, cold gaze. "Making such a scene will only draw attention, alerting the snake in the grass."

"I'm worried something happened to him!"

Zhao Hongling turned and yelled back, her voice growing hoarse. "No sign of him for days, not even a message left. Who knows if he's been ambushed!"

"He's not the type to get into trouble easily."

Dugu Xue's voice came from the street corner. She approached slowly, her white clothes like snow, the jade pendant at her waist swaying gently. "If something truly happened, rumors would have spread long ago. But what the whole city is gossiping about now isn't his death, but that he entered the palace and became a favorite by the Empress's side."

The three women stood still, exchanging glances. The atmosphere turned delicate.

"Absurd."

Leng Shuang gave a cold laugh. "If he wanted to climb the social ladder, he wouldn't have refused the rewards back then and left the city overnight."

"But someone saw with their own eyes, late the night before last, a dark figure scaling the palace wall and landing in the rear courtyard of the Phoenix Hall."

A passing idler chimed in, drinking wine and grinning. "That silhouette, tsk, was exactly like Young Master Chen's."

"Bullshit!" Zhao Hongling's eyes blazed with anger. She grabbed an empty bowl from the table, ready to hurl it at him.

Leng Shuang, quick as lightning, seized her wrist. The grip wasn't harsh, but it was firm.

Zhao Hongling struggled briefly but ultimately couldn't break free. She huffed and shook off Leng Shuang's hand.

"You all speak so animatedly," Dugu Xue stepped forward, her voice not loud but silencing the clamor in the room. "But who has proof? A portrait? A footprint? Or did you witness it yourselves? Without solid evidence, it's nothing but idle gossip from the marketplace."

The crowd instantly fell silent. The dignity of the Princess of the Northern Border was no joke; that innate, cold authority was sharper than a blade's edge.

The tavern owner hurriedly offered an apologetic smile. "Your Highness, please calm your anger. This humble one was merely repeating what others said. It's not to be taken seriously, not at all."

"Then save your breath and keep quiet."

Dugu Xue said calmly, turning to look at Leng Shuang and Zhao Hongling. "Rather than arguing over useless chatter here, we should think about the places he frequented recently. He didn't disappear without reason. There must be clues."

Leng Shuang nodded. "He once saved the father of a copyist clerk in the Ministry of Rites. He might be using that connection to investigate some old records."

"I also heard he stayed at an old mansion in South Alley a few days ago," Zhao Hongling took a breath, finally calming down a bit. "They say a retired musician lived there, someone who knew some palace secrets."

"And Bookstore Street."

Dugu Xue added. "Yesterday, I sent someone to keep watch near the stationery shop. They noticed an old gentleman with glasses waiting for someone for three days in a row. That person came this morning, carrying a small bundle, wearing a blue cloth robe. He went in and hasn't come out since."

The three exchanged another look, a plan already forming in their minds.

"We'll split up."

Dugu Xue gave the decisive order. "Hongling, go to the teahouses in the eastern market to gather information, see if anyone has seen him coming or going. Leng Shuang, investigate that old mansion in South Alley, check for any traces left behind. I'll go to Bookstore Street myself."

Zhao Hongling frowned. "Why do I have to do the questioning? I want to go to Bookstore Street!"

"Because you talk fast, you're good at gathering information," Leng Shuang said coldly. "And besides, if you go, you won't be able to conceal your movements. You'd just expose us."

"Are you looking down on me?" Zhao Hongling glared.

"I'm stating facts." Leng Shuang's expression didn't change. "If you don't believe me, go try storming the palace right now and ask the Empress if he's really inside."

Zhao Hongling's breath hitched in her chest, her face flushing red. Finally, she gritted her teeth and stamped her foot. "Fine! I'll go to the teahouse! Don't blame me for not warning you when I find a clue!"

With that, she mounted her horse and galloped away, the horse's tail whipping up a cloud of dust.

Leng Shuang watched her figure recede, let out a soft sigh, and turned to walk towards South Alley.

The streets were bustling with pedestrians, hawkers' cries filling the air, but she moved like a sheathed sword—silent and sharp.

At the end of South Alley stood an old mansion, its door peeling, its window paper torn.

She pushed the door open and entered. The courtyard was overgrown with weeds, clearly uninhabited for a long time.

She checked room by room. Running her fingers over a tabletop, she felt the dust was unevenly thick—someone had been here not long ago.

Under the kitchen stove, a brick was loose. She crouched down, lifted it, and found a half-burnt piece of paper pressed underneath. The words 'Vice Minister Wang' were faintly discernible.

Her eyes narrowed. She tucked the paper into her sleeve and left.

Meanwhile, Zhao Hongling had been sitting in the largest teahouse in the eastern market for half an hour.

She had changed into plain clothes, pretending to drink tea, but her ears were pricked. A few idlers were gathered in a corner gambling, their mouths never ceasing their chatter.

"Have you heard? That kid Chen Xuan sneaked into the Ministry of Rites archives the night before last, almost got caught by the night patrol!"

"Nonsense! That's an inner court Forbidden Ground, how could he get in?"

"Hey, you don't know, do you? He has a sweetheart working in the Ministry of Rites, borrowed a key, slipped in at midnight to look through some 'private registry files,' investigating something from twenty years ago!"

"Investigating what?"

"They say there was a courtesan's mother who was seized by a high official back then and died mysteriously later. He's seeking revenge for the beauty."

Zhao Hongling's heart jolted upon hearing this, her fists clenching involuntarily. So that's what he was investigating?

She was about to stand up and question them further when she suddenly saw someone hurry in and whisper a few words into the innkeeper's ear.

The innkeeper's face changed slightly. He immediately closed the main door and even hung up a 'closed' sign.

Narrowing her eyes, Zhao Hongling quietly slipped around to the back window, peering through a crack.

She saw the man hand over a token. The innkeeper bowed his head, took it, then opened a hidden compartment under the counter, retrieved a thin booklet, and handed it over.

Alarm bells rang loudly in Zhao Hongling's mind. This was no ordinary information gathering.

Without further hesitation, she flipped up onto the roof, sprinting along the ridge, keeping a distant tail on the man with the booklet.

They wound through streets and alleys until the man turned into a dead-end lane, stopped, looked around, then lit a firestarter and burned the booklet.

Lying flat on the roof tiles, she saw it clearly. After burning the booklet, the man pulled a slip of paper from his robe, looked at it under the moonlight, and muttered, "Surname Wang... buried in the unmarked graves... seems to match up."

Zhao Hongling's pupils contracted. This was precisely the clue Chen Xuan had left!

She could no longer hold back. Leaping down, she kicked the firestarter away and shouted sharply, "Who sent you?!"

The man was startled and turned to run. She chased a couple of steps but was forced back by a gust of fierce wind. Looking up, she saw a masked figure standing on the eaves, a short blade gleaming coldly in hand.

She sneered. "Well, well, so someone really is targeting him!"

Before the words fully left her mouth, she had already drawn her sword and lunged forward.

Meanwhile, on Bookstore Street, Dugu Xue walked slowly past that stationery shop.

The shop door was ajar, and it was quiet inside. She pushed the door open and entered. No one was behind the counter; only a pot of water bubbled on the stove.

She looked around, her gaze settling on a calligraphy and painting hanging on the wall. It was a "Travelers in Autumn Mountains" painting, seemingly ordinary, but there was an extremely faint fingerprint in the lower right corner, as if someone had lingered there for a long time.

She reached out and lightly touched it. Her fingertip felt cool; the mark wasn't yet dry.

She took out the jade pendant she always carried, placed it on the counter, then drew a silver needle from her sleeve and inserted it beside the pendant, pointing southeast.

This was a secret signal used for communication in the Northern Border. Anyone familiar with it would understand.

After doing this, she turned and left the shop, looking up at the sky. The sunlight was just right, illuminating the clean, bright street.

She whispered to herself, "You're not here, but you left not long ago. I know what you're investigating, and I know you don't want anyone following. But some things, you don't have to shoulder alone."

She mounted her horse, turned its head, and galloped towards the city center.

As Leng Shuang left South Alley, she collided head-on with Zhao Hongling, who was rushing towards her. Zhao Hongling's face was covered in dust, her hair disheveled, ashes clinging to her shoulder.

"You got into a fight?" Leng Shuang frowned.

"Ran into two sneaky characters, burning stuff and stealing information!"

Zhao Hongling panted. "They had a slip of paper that said 'surname Wang, buried in the unmarked graves.' That's the clue Chen Xuan was following! Someone is tailing him!"

Leng Shuang's eyes darkened. "We need to regroup quickly."

"Dugu Xue already left a mark at Bookstore Street," Zhao Hongling wiped her face. "I just saw the direction her pendant pointed—towards the martial arts school plaza."

Without another word, both mounted their horses and galloped towards the city center.

The wind swept up fallen leaves by the roadside; sunlight slanted across the bluestone pavement.

In the distance, a familiar figure was emerging from Bookstore Street. He wore a blue cloth robe, carried a small bundle on his back, and as he walked, he raised a hand and rubbed the tip of his nose.

He glanced up at the sky, his steps never faltering, heading towards the densely crowded martial arts school plaza.