[The Medic's Trap]
Inside the shack, Sang Qi moved with clinical efficiency. He piled firewood behind the door and hung dried Silver-Bell herbs by the window—their hollow shells would chime at the slightest vibration, a natural alarm. He slipped a coded note into the doorframe for his own scouts: "Shadows recorded, do not disturb. Meet at back window."
He smeared mud on the door to create "fake escape tracks" and waited.
Before long, two shadows approached. Just as they reached for the door, Sang Qi flicked two silver needles. Clang! They struck the bell above the door, the crisp ring freezing the intruders in place.
"The house... it rings!" one stammered.
Before they could flee, two more needles pinned the taller one's sleeve to the window frame. "Don't move," Sang Qi's calm voice drifted from the shadows. "Next time, the needle hits a pressure point, not your clothes."
By dusk, the "fish" had been caught. Lin Lie brought the report to Gu Xingyu and the Crown Prince. "Sang Qi sent a gift," Lin Lie said. "Two fish, with the fishing line still attached."
Moyan's expression sharpened. "Take them to the East Pavilion's cells. Give them water, no torture yet. We'll follow the line to its source."
[The Empress's Wisdom]
Deep in the Palace of Clouded Splendor, Empress Mu Yao watched her daughter, Si Yirou.
"The investigation isn't just for show," the Empress said, her eyes lingering on the faint red mark on Yirou's wrist. "You disappeared for a night dressed as the Saintess. The palace has many eyes."
Yirou tried to stay defiant. "I don't want to make a scene."
"Knowing when not to make a scene is the first wise thing you've done in years," Mu Yao said, applying ointment to her daughter's wrist with surprising gentleness. "The person who carried you back had a steady hand and a heavy strength. You didn't survive on luck alone."
Yirou thought of the pine-scented cloak and the steady breath of Li Yan. She lowered her head. "I will remember."
"Do you remember the 'act,' or do you remember 'him'?" Mu Yao's question was like a cool breeze. "I have seen people crushed by 'fate' and tricked by 'love.' Trust isn't in words—it's in 'being there.' Someone carried you over rocks; someone didn't let you be humiliated. That is heavier than ten thousand oaths."
She then laid out a new path for Yirou. "If you want to make a name for yourself, stop trying to trip her. Do something of your own. Open the 'Weaving Bureau' to prepare supplies for the journey, and establish a 'Female Medical Ward' to learn from Sang Qi's clinics. Let the people see that the Princess can do more than just talk."
As Yirou rose to leave, Mu Yao pressed a small packet of medicine into her hand. "For your wrist. And... if that Sentinel of Earth (Li Yan) gets hurt, send him to the ward. You don't need to report it to me."
Yirou's face flushed. "Mother, what are you saying!?"
"Go," Mu Yao said quietly. "Tomorrow, stand before the people. If the Saintess ever falls, help her up. But whatever you do—never be the hand that pushes her down."
As the curtains fell, the Empress sighed. Don't walk my path, she thought. For the first time, a new energy stirred in the palace—not of destiny, but of two women choosing their own way to guard the realm.