Shi Buyu’s interest in the dialogue scripts hadn’t waned yet, and she spent the entire morning lounging in the library. When Aunt Gu returned, Yan Shi’an very tactfully put the scripts back in their place.

Wanxia didn’t follow her either. She knew the old woman had a talent for cooking dishes that the young lady liked, so she took the initiative to approach her and ask to learn a few new recipes.

The two of them hit it off right away and got along quite well. But they always kept a close eye on the time. When it was time to rest her eyes, someone would come over to pull Shi Buyu away and get her to move around a bit. It wasn’t like being outside, where she had cats and dogs to play with—only fish here.

At noon, the dishes were served in the small flower hall as the young lady preferred. Living under the same roof, and with their kind of relationship, it wasn’t necessary to keep a distance. So long as it was within sight, it didn’t matter.

With someone to dine with, Yan Shi’an was naturally happy. After the meal, it was a good time to chat.

“This afternoon, Dan Niang and Fan Shen should be coming over.”

Yan Shi’an wasn’t surprised. Their conversation last night hadn’t been finished, so they must still have questions. Telling him now was simply a courtesy—not an invitation for him to join the discussion.

“They know about your connection to the Marquis of Loyal Valor’s household?”

Shi Buyu took a sip of tea. “They didn’t before. It’s not a status worth broadcasting. I only mentioned it this time because I needed their help.”

“I’ll have the gatekeeper let them in,” Yan Shi’an agreed, then shifted to another topic. “You were right—Xiangguo’s men have been avoiding the teams investigating this matter and are independently looking into the whereabouts of the Shi family. But the Grand Preceptor has been giving him a lot of trouble lately. Several key people under him have been held back in the capital and can’t leave, so the investigation’s been a bit weak.”

“Praise the Grand Preceptor,” Shi Buyu said, rubbing her chin. “Keep an eye out—see if there are any other forces involved.”

Yan Shi’an looked at her. “Actually, from beginning to end, the one you suspect the most is the emperor.”

“He’s the prime suspect,” Shi Buyu said as she unconsciously crossed her legs. “Every generation of the Loyal Valor Marquis has been unquestionably loyal, with a well-kept reputation. The entire Shi clan is based in the capital. Even if they defected to Zhamu and were given titles of duke or prince, the price would be enormous—nearly equivalent to exterminating the family line. What’s the point of betrayal then? Any emperor with a brain, faced with this situation, shouldn’t have rushed to execute them. They should’ve first figured out what was really going on. But what we’re facing is an emperor who hurried to issue a death order—couldn’t even wait until after the autumn trials. That kind of irrational behavior? Something’s definitely fishy.”

Yan Shi’an nodded. “While watching Xiangguo, my people are also keeping an eye on the palace. So far, nothing unusual.”

“If he never makes a move, that proves something else: Xiangguo is just a knife in his hand,” Shi Buyu said, looking out at the blazing sun. “The Grand Preceptor is going to be in trouble.”

“I have people I can deploy—should I do anything?”

“No need. Let them fight it out,” Shi Buyu refused immediately. “A few days ago in your study, I saw some reports your people delivered. I found something interesting.”

Ever since they had cleared the air, Yan Shi’an had opened up his intelligence channels to her and let her read whatever she wanted. He’d thought she’d only been reading scripts, but it turned out she’d looked through these as well.

“Zhu Ling, a fifth-rank court official with no real power—a nobody. But people in his household keep dying. Every so often, someone gets sent to a mass grave. I imitated your handwriting and had them look into it. Turns out, dead people leave the Zhu household, but no new people are seen going in. Don’t you find that interesting?”

What’s even more interesting is how confidently you say you forged my handwriting.

Yan Shi’an sighed helplessly. “You’ve already learned to mimic my writing?”

“Not really, just copied a few words like ‘check the incoming residents of Zhu Ling’s household’—barely passable. And don’t bother thinking about holding anyone accountable. You were in the academy all morning. I needed the info—couldn’t wait for you to get back.” Shi Buyu waved a hand. “No need to fuss over such a small matter. You want to control everything, but as long as people are involved, any link can become a variable. Being adaptable is more important. Like this situation—you can have your people learn my handwriting. Then I wouldn’t have to copy yours.”

Yan Shi’an chuckled. The point of that entire speech was in those last two sentences.

“I’ll give the order. You won’t have to trouble yourself copying my writing again.”

With her goal achieved, Shi Buyu was very satisfied. Forging other people’s handwriting was exhausting—it’s much easier to just write however she wanted.

Under her influence, even Yan Shi’an—normally unflappable—didn’t see this as a big deal. Watching her, he said, “So, you plan to go to the mass grave.”

“Not tonight—I probably won’t catch anything. I plan to keep watch for a few days.”

Knowing her purpose, Yan Shi’an went back to his study and pulled out everything related to Zhu Ling. He read it all from beginning to end but still didn’t find anything noteworthy. No wonder he’d never paid attention to the man.

But Shi Buyu had noticed.

Yan Shi’an closed the folder and looked at the names lined up on the bookshelf. She hadn’t just noticed—she’d noticed among all these names.

He wasn’t unaware of the doubts from Luo Bo and Yan Ze. Truthfully, he himself hadn’t believed that Shi Buyu could really pull off what she promised. But from the little things she revealed during their time together, he found himself wanting to believe.

That feeling—like now.

“Uncle Ze.”

Yan Ze was a beat slow to respond. Since that first “Uncle Ze,” the young master had continued to call him that, just like the old days.

“From now on, any intelligence that comes in—if I’m here, deliver it to me. If I’m not, give it to Miss Shi first. Whatever she wants to know, find out and report to her immediately.”

“Yes.”

Yan Shi’an’s fingers brushed across the names on the shelf. “Luo Bo, I want you to assist her.”

Luo Qing was stunned. “You trust her that much? More than you trust me?”

“You once said—if we can get her help, our grand enterprise will succeed.” Yan Shi’an turned to him. “I trust your judgment. And I need her hand—and the people behind her.”

Luo Qing’s unease disappeared instantly with that sentence. He bowed deeply. “If she can help you succeed, I’m willing to serve beneath her.”

“All your years of hard work—I remember every bit of it,” Yan Shi’an said, turning to look at the bookshelf. “If that day of success ever comes, I will not let you down.”

Luo Qing bent even lower, heart clear as a mirror. He had no intention of competing with Shi Buyu or fighting for status. Not every battle is worth fighting. Sometimes, it’s fine to be second. Being first often means risking your life. To serve a ruler is like serving a tiger—especially one not yet fully grown.

He couldn’t help but wonder how the person backing Shi Buyu had trained her. Her actions were so reckless they made him nervous just watching. Even forging someone else’s handwriting? If that were ever investigated in the future—did she even realize the consequences?