"Is there anything else you want to say?" The morning light scattered about easily, and cast shadow after shadow in the square before the Shengru Palace. Jiang Changbai wore the full, bright yellow Emperor's robe, and sat atop the Dragon Throne, her expression cold and remote. Yet the one kneeling before the steps of the palace, head lowered and not speaking, was Xie Qianbing. "It was this minister who was ineffectual; I beg Bixia to punish me," Xie Qianbing said, her complexion as pale as paper, biting her lower lip, her hands curled into fists, her nails deeply embedded in her palms. But she truly didn't feel any pain; in her eyes, almost level with the ground, was entirely self-recrimination and guilt. Jiang Changbai sighed, her tone easing somewhat. "From the time We ascended the throne, We trusted and relied on you to a degree We fear has rarely been seen since the establishment of the Great Li. We broke the established tradition to promote you to ...

"Honghailou?" Jiang Changbai had raised her brush to write, and hearing this, raised her head as well. "The one in the capital?" "That one." "Yet how is it that We remember that the proprietor of that establishment isn't surnamed Qin at all? Is she truly your older sister?" Jiang Changbai set her brush down as she spoke, her entire figure leaning backwards, simply staring fixedly at Qin Anhe. Qin Anhe had always assumed that Chen Xun had hidden her identity exceedingly well, and besides the few close to her, there wasn't anyone who knew what the true name of the proprietor of Honghailou was. Now, suddenly having been asked this by Jiang Changbai, her mind was greatly alarmed, such that even her lips parted softly, and she was dazed for a good while, before she said, "Replying to Bixia, the relationship between the two of us is the same as sisters." As she spoke, Qin Anhe's fingers, hidden in her sleeves, unconsciously twitch...

When she spoke, it was like spring waters were overflowing from her eyes, pooling atop cool slabs of rock; living up to her name, she refreshed the mind. [1] "Get up and speak," Li Shiyi said. Qin Niang let out an affirmative sound, rising with her waist bent, as graceful in bearing as a white snake wending its way up a stick. Women of romance, Song Shijiu had met many times; usually, they were lazy, but Qin Niang wasn't like that; others would be lazy or swing their hips, or the lower their eyelids, while Qin Niang's expression was candid, her figure agile, and she left laziness in her breaths, breathing in a small, gentle breath, and then let it out softly, a pitiful terror showing from within the indolence. Song Shijiu couldn't help herself, and said, "In a place this desolate and wild, what are you doing?" "I…" Qin Niang only spoke half a word, somewhat hesitant. Li Shiyi waited quite patiently for a while, and only then swept her gaze acro...

"You, do you capture yao?" Yang-er-shenzi strove to absorb the words from just before, repeatedly casting a glance at this man before her; he had a large belly and a wide forehead, and as he spoke, his right leg was placed on the threshold, the shaking of his leg even more fragmented than his words. The two young ladies behind him were unexpectedly dignified, their faces as neat as if from a landscape painting, their expressions half hidden and half revealed, and when looking at them carefully, there was unexpectedly some strength of Daoist practitioner's character. "Ah," Tu Laoyao replied, drawing Yang-er-shenzi's back, his foot pressing against the threshold once more, and he asked her, "has there been anything out of the ordinary?" Song Shijiu held Li Shiyi's hand behind her back, looking about calmly and collectedly. Three days ago, they'd received a letter from Yushiqie, saying that the strange beast of Mount Zhongshan, the Bashe, had ...

In the innermost of Honghailou's private rooms, Qin Anhe was minding herself, drinking tea. Her shifu had always had a good relationship with Honghailou, and as a result, she and Chen Xun were incredibly well-acquainted. It was such that even in the private room which wasn't open to any outsiders, she was as at ease as if she were in her own home. "So, you're here bringing disaster to my tea again." Chen Xun pushed the door open, entering, her voice approaching from a distance. Although her words were such, there wasn't the slightest trace of rebuke in her tone. Qin Anhe, though, wasn't lacking in confidence, but was actually bold and confident in her convictions. "Don't be so stingy; you let anyone else drink this tea, so what if I drink it?" "It's precisely that you drink it; other people all sample it." As she spoke, Chen Xun sat across from Qin Anhe, pouring herself a cup along the way. "I'm young, and I don't k...

The day that A Jiu entered the Taishan Prefecture, Empress Dowager Longyu's imperial edict of abdication had just appeared in the newspapers. The first time she fought with Ling Heng, she heard say that Yuan Xiangcheng [1] had died. But after, she hadn't seen the bustle and raucousness of the restoration of the plaited Qing, nor did she hear the cries of May Fourth. Only the dream which Yushiqie sent bumped slightly against the extreme boredom of the Taishan Prefecture. It was reasonable to say that, if a day were passed in boredom, A Jiu would look for somewhere else, but she suspected the Taishan Prefecture had a secret, other function, which could tug one's heart, like floating duckweed, down, and place it beneath the ground. Lianyu was eighteen levels; one was the rustling wind by one's ear, one the scattered, fragmented rain by one's pillow, causing one's senses to dull, settling their seven emotional states, wearing down ninety years' will to fight, a...

Translator's note: My apologies for the delay in updates; with my schedule lately, my old update regimen for this novel (Tuesdays/Thursdays) doesn't work as well as it once did; as a result, I'll be shifting to weekend releases. I'll get the next chapter up later today, and then start on posting chapters on weekends in the future. - Under the scorching, burning sun, the dog days were like a stove; the entire day, the world was withered and yellowed by the formless fiery broil, the knifelike sunlight seeming to cut each cun of the air open. But beneath the wild growth, outside of Zichang, a simple and crude, yet solemnly dignified altar was set up. Qin Anhe still wore that pure white Daoist's attire, her black hair fastened high by a simple wooden hairpin, and she sat upright in the centre of the altar. Before her was a great, bronze ding [1] filled to the brim with clear water; within the ding's water floated a few yellow talisman papers. Black smoke rose in co...