After leaving the prison, Yan Ze was already waiting.

He handed San Cun a pouch of silver and lowered his tone to say a few flattering words. If she hadn’t just experienced it herself, Shi Buyu would have thought Yan Ze had really just bribed his way through.

There was also the jailer who let them out for fresh air, and Zhang Chun who provided cover—Shi Buyu realized that Yan Shian’s reach extended further than she had expected, and in this very direction.

The prison really was a good place to dig into shady dealings.

After leaving that area in the carriage, Yan Ze, who had been sitting at the door, finally turned around and asked, “Does Miss have a place to go?”

“Yinglai Inn.” Shi Buyu looked at him. “When did that Zhang Chun get in?”

“The day after the Shi family was imprisoned.”

Shi Buyu asked again, “Was the Shi family given special attention?”

“Yes. No one was allowed to visit.” Yan Ze looked at her and voluntarily added, “According to what our people found out, the order came from the Prime Minister.”

Prime Minister Zhang Xuzhi—ranked highest among all officials. In court, the only one who could rival him was Grand Preceptor Fu Wei, who held military power. As for the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor’s household, they belonged to the old faction under the late emperor and had kept a low profile ever since his passing.

Shi Buyu dug through all the history between the two families and really couldn’t find any grudge. But if this disaster that befell the Shi family had nothing to do with the Prime Minister, why would he prohibit visitors? What was he guarding against?

Back at the room, Shi Buyu asked, “Agu, when you were in the capital, did you ever hear of any bad blood between our families?”

Wan Xia thought for a moment. “I’ve never heard of anything.”

That was strange. It couldn’t be just to stop others from kicking the Shi family while they were down. Shi Buyu shook her head—there was no such deep friendship between the families. If it had been the Grand Preceptor taking precautions, that would’ve made more sense. After all, they were both from the military faction.

Setting that matter aside for now, Shi Buyu said, “Tonight, I’m going to the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor’s residence. It’s still early. Agu, since you rarely return, would you like to see some old acquaintances?”

Wan Xia looked dazed. Should she go? Somehow… it didn’t feel that necessary.

“If we haven’t seen them in thirteen years, then it’s fine if we don’t for thirty more.” Wan Xia walked behind the girl and began undoing her hair, combing it as she spoke. “But isn’t going to the marquis’ estate now a little risky?”

“The names on the Shi family registry are either dead on the frontlines or locked up in prison. There’s no one left to guard against. An empty estate is of no importance; it won’t be watched too closely.”

Wan Xia still wasn’t reassured. “I’ll go scout ahead first.”

Shi Buyu didn’t stop her—she had great confidence in Agu’s skills. Her own thoughts were focused on the plans for the day after tomorrow.

At night, the capital was ablaze with lights and bustling with people and traffic—a picture of a flourishing era.

The master and servant moved with the crowd, heading west where it grew quieter. Wan Xia, familiar with the terrain, led the way. When they reached a dead end, she carried the girl on her back and climbed over the wall into the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor’s estate.

The estate was large. They entered from a corner of the back courtyard where the utility rooms were. Along the way, there were signs of devastation everywhere—wilted flowers, broken branches, scattered debris. Even the small garden had been thoroughly dug up. The place had clearly been completely ransacked.

Relying on childhood memories, Shi Buyu found the wing where their branch of the family had lived. After a quick analysis, she located the room that had belonged to Shi Xu.

Due to the family’s traditions, few members of the Shi family were drawn to scholarly pursuits. Someone like Shi Xu, who could sit still from a young age and preferred books over weapons, was rare. The family had cherished that, though he had still been trained in the basics.

The room was a mess—chairs and cabinets overturned, brush holder in a corner, brushes scattered here and there. Calligraphy and paintings littered the floor—some torn in half, some missing large portions.

By the moonlight, the two cleared a path. Wan Xia found a nearby oil lamp and lit it.

Inside a large painting urn were only two scrolls left. Like picking soldiers, Shi Buyu pointed at them and opened one, laughing.

“Agu, how old was I in this one?”

Wan Xia leaned in to look, then laughed too. “You must have been seven. See that scratch on your face? That was from fighting with a cat the day before your birthday.”

Shi Buyu remembered now. That year, Old Whitebeard had taken her to the north. Not only were the people there tough, so were the cats and dogs. First, she was chased by dogs, then scratched by cats. She spent her days fighting them—not because she wanted revenge, but because the animals did.

Strangely, after a few brawls, the cats and dogs began following her around. The one that scratched her face even snuck onto her boat and followed her to many places.

That cat, which she later named Nine Lives, eventually died one winter. Old Whitebeard said its time had come.

Looking at the portrait that seemed ready to pick a fight at any moment, Shi Buyu recalled, “How many fights did I get into a day back then?”

“Miss always left and came back perfectly clean. You were the one who used words, not fists.” Remembering the past, Wan Xia couldn’t help but smile. “Though you did always seem to be at odds with animals—you even fought a rat once.”

“I kicked those things one by one.” Shi Buyu picked up another scroll—wrong one. She grabbed one from the floor next to the painting urn—yes, this was it.

“This is from when Miss was ten, already done with fighting.”

Shi Buyu looked at Agu.

Wan Xia laughed and stopped teasing. “That year, we went to a coastal county. You saw many new things there—even people who looked different from us. Within a few months, you learned their language and said you wanted to see their country.”

“Old Whitebeard wouldn’t let me.”

Shi Buyu picked up another scroll. Still her again. But it had no inscription, so it wasn’t from a birthday. At this frequency, who knew how many portraits there were of her in total? The people who ransacked the house might’ve mistaken her for Shi Xu’s secret beloved.

She sat on the ground and flipped through them one by one—some perfectly intact, others torn. From age four to sixteen, the painting style matured from clumsy to refined. Shi Buyu felt as if she were watching herself grow up. With each painting, her memories naturally drifted back to that time. She didn’t know what other people’s childhoods were like, but hers was unrestrained, free from scolding or restrictions—every day was lived to the fullest.

“She said she watched me grow up through these paintings—that’s why she could recognize me at a glance.” Shi Buyu gathered the thirteen birthday portraits and rolled them up one by one. “But I never really missed her. Most of the time, I forgot about them entirely.”

“A mother missing her child is instinct. Your nature is also instinct—it’s not right or wrong.” Wan Xia helped roll up the scrolls and added, “Didn’t the old gentleman always say? You’re the way you are to protect yourself. With a mind as sharp as yours, if you were born with a sensitive and fragile heart too, you wouldn’t have survived childhood.”

“So I don’t feel guilty.” Shi Buyu stood with the paintings in her arms. “But knowing she’s always been thinking of me—it does make me a little happy.”

“You may not think of them, but the price you’ve paid to save them is something few in this world could afford.” Wan Xia wrapped the paintings in cloth, then looked up at the child she had watched grow up. “You don’t need to be like anyone else, Miss. Just being yourself is more than enough.”