Princess Yanran settled herself gracefully on the chair that Wei Ling had vacated, her eyes bright with curiosity and genuine warmth. Despite the elegance of her movements, there was something wonderfully unguarded about her expression—the open affection of someone who had been genuinely frightened and was now genuinely relieved.
"What is your name?" she asked, leaning forward slightly. "I mean, I know you're General Wei's daughter, but your given name?"
Wei Han bowed her head respectfully, despite still lying in bed. "This humble woman is called Wei Ling, Your Highness."
"Wei Ling," Yanran repeated, as if tasting the name. Then her smile widened. "I want to thank you properly for saving my life yesterday. I will make sure you are rewarded—whatever you need, whatever you want, it's yours."
"Your Highness is too kind—"
"But wait," Yanran interrupted, her brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "I thought your name was Yuelai? Your cousin called you Yuelai yesterday, didn't she?" She turned to look at Wei Ling, who still sat nearby, her expression carefully neutral. "And I'm so sorry—with all the tension and worry yesterday, I forgot to ask your name!"
Wei Ling's eyes widened fractionally, and Wei Han could feel her cousin's brief moment of panic. But Wei Ling had always been quick-thinking when it mattered.
"This humble woman is called Xiaoyu, Your Highness," Wei Ling said smoothly, bowing from her seated position.
Xiaoyu? Wei Han thought with surprise. Where did Wei Ling hear that name?
But before she could dwell on it, she turned back to the princess with a gentle smile. "Yuelai is my nickname, Your Highness. A childhood name that my family still uses. As for yesterday..." Her expression grew more serious. "I should be the one asking for your forgiveness. That arrow was meant for me from the start. I cannot possibly accept any reward when my presence put you in danger. Instead, I should be grateful to you for saving my life with that antidote. Xiaoyu told me it was extremely expensive."
"We are both truly grateful, Your Highness," Wei Ling—Xiaoyu—added quickly, bowing her head.
Princess Yanran's face softened with understanding, but there was steel beneath her gentle exterior. "The arrow may have been aimed at you, but you chose to take it for me when you could have stepped aside. That deserves recognition, regardless of the original target."
Wei Han shifted carefully, testing the limits of her injured shoulder. The pain was still present but manageable—the imperial physicians truly were masters of their craft. "Your Highness has been more than generous already. Now, if you will excuse us, I should return home. My brother will be worried about me."
"But your wound is still not fully recovered!" Yanran protested, genuine concern crossing her face. "You should rest at least another day.
"Your Highness, please forgive me, but I really must return," Wei Han said gently but firmly. "My family will be concerned, and I don't wish to impose on the palace's hospitality any longer."
Princess Yanran studied her for a long moment, and Wei Han could see the internal debate playing across the young princess's expressive face. Finally, she sighed. "Fine. But you must promise to take care of yourself and rest properly. And if you need anything—anything at all—you will send word to the palace immediately. Promise me."
"I promise, Your Highness."
Yanran stood and walked to the door, sliding it open to call for one of her personal maids. "Prepare a carriage for Miss Wei and Miss Xiaoyu. Have them escorted safely to the Qingfeng residence. Make sure they have everything they need for the journey, and inform the household staff to provide any assistance required."
The maid bowed deeply. "As you command, Your Highness."
The palace carriage was considerably more luxurious than anything . Silk cushions, carved wooden panels inlaid with mother-of-pearl, even small compartments containing refreshments and medicinal tea.
As soon as the carriage began moving and they were safely away from the palace, Wei Han turned to her cousin. "Xiaoyu? Where did you hear that name?"
Wei Ling's expression grew uncertain, almost embarrassed.
"You were calling that name while you were unconscious. You kept saying it, over and over, sometimes clearly, sometimes just mumbling. When the princess asked, I couldn't think of any other name quickly enough, so I just... said that. Why? Is there a problem?"
Wei Han shook her head slowly, something tightening in her chest. "No. No problem."
Xiaoyu. She'd been calling for Xiaoyu while poisoned and unconscious.
Wei Ling was peering out the carriage window, her attention caught by something outside. "Look at all the red lanterns! And those decorations—there must be a wedding today!"
Wei Han glanced out as well, noting the festive atmosphere that had transformed several streets. Red silk banners hung from buildings, paper cutouts of the double happiness symbol adorned doorways, and servants rushed about with final preparations. "Yes. Today is the wedding of the Minister of Revenue's daughter. She's marrying the son of the Duke of Yunzhao."
"The Minister of Revenue?" Wei Ling repeated, her voice taking on a slightly darker tone. "The same minister who—"
"Yes," Wei Han said quietly. "The same one."
Wei Ling shook her head, returning her gaze to the window.
"Well, I suppose even corrupt officials marry off their daughters. Look—I think I can see the beginning of the wedding procession over there! It must be heading to Yunzhao."
The words hit Wei Han like a physical blow.
Wedding procession. Heading to Yunzhao. Going through the city gates.
Her mind began racing, pieces of the puzzle she'd been working on suddenly shifting into new configurations. The missing silver. The timing of the thefts. The patterns she'd noticed but couldn't quite connect. The routes. The gates. The—
"Stop the carriage!" Wei Han called out suddenly, her voice sharp with urgency.
The driver pulled the horses to a halt, and before Wei Ling could even ask what was happening, Wei Han had pushed open the carriage door and stepped out into the street. Her shoulder protested the sudden movement, but she ignored it.
Wei Ling scrambled out after her, confusion written across her face. "What's wrong? What are you doing?"
They stood in the middle of a busy street, the wedding decorations bright and cheerful around them, people flowing past on their various errands. Wei Han's eyes were bright with the sudden clarity of revelation.
"Wei Ling—the wedding procession will go through city gates , isn't it?"
"Yes? Obviously?" Wei Ling looked at her cousin as if she'd lost her mind. "Yunzhao is outside the capital. If you want to leave the capital, you have to go through the city gates. What's—"
"That's it," Wei Han breathed, and despite the pain in her shoulder, despite the exhaustion of the past day, a smile spread across her face. "That's how they've been doing it."
"Doing what? Yuelai, you're not making any sense!"
Wei Han grabbed Wei Ling's hand, her grip tight with excitement. "I think I've found the missing silver. But I need your help."
"What? Where? What are you talking about?"
Wei Han was already moving, pulling Wei Ling toward a nearby shop. "I don't have time to explain everything right now. Just trust me."
The shop was a small stationers, selling paper, ink, and writing supplies. The elderly shopkeeper looked up in surprise as the two young women burst through the door.
"Paper and ink, please," Wei Han said quickly, already reaching for her coin purse. "The best quality you have—this is urgent."
The shopkeeper, sensing the promise of a good sale, moved quickly to provide the requested materials. Wei Han spread the paper on the counter and began writing with swift, precise strokes. Her calligraphy was excellent—a skill drilled into her during her childhood, back when she'd been expected to become a princess rather than an investigator.
Wei Ling watched over her shoulder, trying to make sense of what her cousin was writing. It appeared to be a formal letter, addressed to...
"Prince Zhenge?" Wei Ling read aloud, her voice rising in surprise. "You're writing to the Prince? Yuelai, what—"
"I need you to deliver this to him," Wei Han said, her brush never pausing. "Immediately. As fast as you can."
"Deliver it? To the Prince? I can't just walk into the palace and—"
"You were just at the palace. "You've met him before—he knows you. He'll let you in once he reads this. Just tell him I am with the wedding procession."
Wei Ling stared at her cousin, torn between exasperation and concern. "You're going to do something dangerous, aren't you?"
Wei Han finished the letter, folded it carefully, and sealed it with a borrowed stick of sealing wax from the shopkeeper. She turned to face Wei Ling fully, and her expression was serious but determined.
Wei Ling looked down at the letter in her hands, then back up at her cousin's face. Despite everything—despite the poison, the injury, the exhaustion that was clearly visible around Wei Han's eyes—there was an intensity there that Wei Ling had seen before. It was the look Wei Han got when she was close to solving a case, when all the pieces finally came together.
"I don't know what you're planning," Wei Ling said quietly, "but please, please be careful. You're already injured, and if something happens to you..."
Wei Han reached out and squeezed her cousin's hand. "I'll be careful. I promise. But this is important, Wei Ling. If I'm right, this could solve the entire case. We can't let this opportunity pass."
Wei Ling closed her eyes briefly, as if gathering her courage, then nodded. "Alright. I'll take it to him. But you'd better not get yourself killed, or I'll never forgive you."
"I don't plan to die today," Wei Han said with a small smile.
"Now go. Quickly. The wedding procession will be leaving soon, and timing is everything."
Wei Ling hesitated for one more moment, then turned and ran back to the palace carriage. Wei Han watched her go, then turned in the opposite direction, her mind already working through the plan.
The wedding of Minister Xiao's daughter. A grand procession leaving the capital, heading to Yunzhao. Carts laden with dowry gifts, chests, furniture, silk-wrapped packages. Guards focused on protecting the bride and ensuring the ceremony went smoothly. Inspectors at the city gates watching for contraband coming in, but paying less attention to a noble wedding party going out.
It was brilliant, really. Use legitimate ceremonies—weddings, funerals, official delegations—as cover to move the stolen silver out of the capital. Who would suspect a wedding procession of smuggling treasury silver? Who would dare to thoroughly search the daughter of the Minister of Revenue on her wedding day?
But Wei Han would. Or rather, Prince Zhenge would, once he received her letter and understood what she'd discovered.
She just had to confirm her suspicions first. And that meant getting close enough to that wedding procession to see what was really in those carefully guarded carts.
Wei Han's shoulder throbbed as she made her way through the streets, but she pushed the pain aside. She'd worked through worse. And she was so close now—so close to solving the case that had brought her to the capital in the first place.
The wedding procession was assembling in the main square near the Minister of Revenue's residence. Already, crowds were gathering to watch—commoners loved a good wedding, especially one involving nobility. Musicians tuned their instruments, servants made final adjustments to decorations, and guards in formal armor stood at attention.
And there, in the center of it all, were the carts. Large, ornate, covered with red silk and gold tassels. Dowry carts, supposedly carrying gifts and household goods for the new bride's life in Yunzhao.
Wei Han melted into the crowd of onlookers, just another curious commoner come to see the spectacle. But her eyes were sharp, taking in every detail.
END OF CHAPTER 17