Since Qi Yanzhou ceased being a dissolute nobleman, Song Zhiyan had no further interactions with him, so his sudden visit came as a surprise.

After glancing at Ye Chutang, Song Zhiyan stepped out to greet him.

“This humble scholar greets Prince Chen.”

Qi Yanzhou gestured lightly for him to rise.

“No need for formalities, Master Song. I came for the sound of Miss Ye’s pipa.”

“Please, Your Highness.”

Once Qi Yanzhou entered the music room, Song Zhiyan dismissed all the maids and servants.

He personally served tea and prepared to leave, but Qi Yanzhou stopped him.

“Master Song, stay.”

In broad daylight, he worried that being alone with Ye Chutang might harm her reputation.

Turning to her, he said, “Miss Ye, the pipa score you just played—would you sell it? I am quite fond of it.”

The opening sections were particularly stirring, perfect for a battle anthem.

“I won’t sell it, but I can give it to you. However, I only know how to play, not transcribe the score. You’ll need to hire a musician.”

She had glanced at the musical notations of this fictional dynasty the day before but could only comprehend a fraction—certainly not enough to write it down.

Song Zhiyan gave Ye Chutang a surprised look.

He hadn’t expected her to play so skillfully yet be unable to transcribe music.

“Miss Ye, I can transcribe it by ear.”

Qi Yanzhou declined. “No need to trouble Master Song. I’ll handle it myself.”

In his youth, he had been a prodigiously talented, albeit wayward, nobleman.

Ye Chutang played Ambush from Ten Sides again, this time at a slower tempo.

The sense of urgency diminished, lending the piece a different charm.

By the time she finished, Qi Yanzhou had completed the transcription.

He unfastened the python-patterned black jade token from his waist and offered it to Ye Chutang.

“Miss Ye, consider this my debt to you. Should you ever need anything, bring this token to Prince Chen’s residence, and I will assist without fail.”

Ye Chutang knew the jade token represented Qi Yanzhou himself—a priceless item.

She dared not accept it.

“Your Highness needn’t be so courteous. Ambush from Ten Sides was taught to me by someone else. It’s no personal favor.”

Song Zhiyan watched the exchange in astonishment—one offering, the other refusing.

Was Prince Chen truly so trusting of Miss Ye?

To openly gift a token symbolizing his identity!

And did Miss Ye not understand its value?

To reject it outright!

Seeing her resolve, Qi Yanzhou reattached the token to his waist.

“I am deeply grateful for the score, Miss Ye. Even without a token, my doors are always open to you.”

He infused his words with inner energy, ensuring they carried across a one-mile radius around the Poetry Pavilion.

Ye Chutang understood—Qi Yanzhou was shielding her reputation while elevating her fame.

She accepted the gesture with a smile. “Let’s hope that day never comes.”

With that, she returned the pipa to Song Zhiyan.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”

Once outside, Ye Chutang was swarmed by music enthusiasts seeking her guidance.

Noticing Qi Yanzhou hadn’t left, she guessed he and Song Zhiyan had matters to discuss.

She led the crowd away from the music room.

As the noise faded, Qi Yanzhou addressed Song Zhiyan bluntly.

“Brother Song, if your family’s rule is to abstain from politics, you should refrain from meddling in court affairs.”

Song Zhiyan hadn’t expected his discreet actions to be uncovered.

“Your Highness, the Song family would gladly remain bystanders. But in these times, how can one stay detached?

On your return to the capital, surely you witnessed not prosperity but suffering?”

Qi Yanzhou was well aware of the people’s hardships and the emperor’s incompetence.

But Beichen Kingdom could not afford internal strife—foreign invaders would only worsen their plight.

“I’ve said my piece, Brother Song.”

As Qi Yanzhou turned to leave, Song Zhiyan stopped him.

Lowering his voice, he ventured, “Your Highness is beloved by the people. Have you ever considered—”

Before he could finish, Qi Yanzhou cut him off.

“The Qi family is loyal to the throne.”

Watching Qi Yanzhou depart, Song Zhiyan’s expression darkened.

“Prince Chen, you’ll change your mind.”

Ye Chutang spent the morning at the Poetry Pavilion, answering scholars’ questions.

There, she heard unsettling news:

Prince Chen had angered the emperor by proposing the execution of Heavenly Master Zhang to quell rumors, resulting in a six-month salary deduction.

She couldn’t fathom it—with Qi Yanzhou’s influence and the 500,000 Qi-family troops stationed nationwide, he could easily overthrow the throne.

Yet he chose blind loyalty, enduring humiliation!

Though baffled, she respected his choice.

After lunch, she left for the Treasure Pavilion.

Today was the delivery date for her custom jewelry. Two craftsmen had just completed a set:

– A hollow hairpin concealing lethal poison—a deadly weapon with a simple mechanism.

– A bracelet with eight hidden compartments for medicines, distinguishable by its engravings—salvation or slaughter.

– A pendant doubling as a miniature “Storm of Pear Blossoms” needle device, devastatingly lethal.

– A modified sleeve arrow launcher, capable of single or volley shots.

Testing each, Ye Chutang found them flawless.

“Excellent work. Keep producing as many as possible. I’ll add twenty extra coins to your daily wage.”

The craftsmen brightened.

“Thank you, Miss Ye! We’ll spare no effort.”

Paid per piece, they had no reason to slack.

“Can these be gold-plated over iron? Cost is no issue.”

Given her status, wearing plain iron outdoors wouldn’t do.

“Possible, but time-consuming.”

“No matter. Three sets of each, except the launcher.”

“Understood, Miss Ye.”

Later, disguised as a burly man, Ye Chutang visited nearby taverns, ordering signature dishes to be delivered to the Second Prince’s villa—timed to fuel suspicion.

A perfect scheme: she enjoyed the spoils while the prince faced scrutiny.

Next, she arranged grain deliveries to the Crown Prince’s villa, then headed to the Spring Blossom Brothel.

Xu Kang, now wheelchair-bound and ruined, had been taken home. Were it not for the “Heavenly Master’s doom” scandal, Ye Anling would’ve been today’s gossip.

The brothel was nearly empty at this hour.

The madam greeted her, only for her clothes to be yanked open, revealing a slip of paper tucked into her undergarments.

“Too old. Boring.”

Ye Chutang left disdainfully.

The madam, seething, discovered the note:

“Tell Prince Chen: the herbs at Violet Cloud Pavilion are nourished by blood and corpses. The lotus pond hides children’s bones.”

Not wanting last night’s efforts wasted, Ye Chutang aimed to leverage Qi Yanzhou against Heavenly Master Zhang.

Recognizing the “Phantom Thief’s” handiwork, the madam murmured,

“Such mastery in disguise! Such sharp perception!”

She hurried to the wine cellar’s secret chamber, dispatching the note with an addendum:

“Master, the Phantom Thief knows the brothel is yours.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep