Song Chuyi hadn't expected to run into Song Chumi at the tavern the next day—much less right where she was supposed to meet Zhang Run. She'd assumed that after yesterday's events, Song Chumi would be at home wailing her grievances, but while she looked slightly worn and stiff, there was nothing particurly unusual about her appearance.

  Knowing Song Chumi's ck of sense and capability, Song Chuyi was still wary; sometimes, clueless people were precisely the ones who could nd others in trouble. After gncing at the room Song Chumi had entered, she turned to Qingtao. "Be sharp. Go check with the manager who booked that private room, and who she's meeting in there."

  Qingtao, equally concerned that the always-oblivious Fourth Miss might be getting into trouble again, nodded and hurried off.

  Song Chuyi followed the server to her own reserved room. She had barely sat down when there was a light knock on the door. She gestured for Qingying to answer, who then ushered the guest inside.

  The meeting pce belonged to Zhou Weizhao; she had chosen it specifically to avoid any deception. She had even sent Ma Changjiang and others to scout the location mentioned in the letter, and sure enough, they'd found Zhang Run staying at a vil on the outskirts of the capital.

  Although Zhang Run knew this Sixth Miss Song was quite young, he was still taken aback when he finally saw her. She was indeed very young, looking like nothing more than a budding maiden. When silent, she resembled a jade carving of the Dragon Girl seated beneath the jade statue of Guanyin; when she smiled, her eyes curved so enchantingly that he could hardly look her in the eye.

  (Transtor Xiaobai: Guanyin is a revered figure in East Asian Buddhism, often known as the Goddess of Mercy or Compassion. )

  How could such a young girl, this delicate and refined, be the one who had managed to drive the ruthless Han Zhi into repeated setbacks? She'd actually made him suffer? Zhang Run was momentarily at a loss for words, averting his eyes in a hurried attempt to compose himself.

  Song Chuyi poured him a cup of tea and gestured for him to sit, offering a smile that was perfectly banced—neither too aloof nor too friendly. "Would you like some tea, Young Master Zhang?"

  For a moment, Zhang Run was struck with a strange sense of nostalgia. It had been so long since anyone called him that. He'd changed his name, and his official records now bore the name Yang Ruian. He had severed ties with his past, even abandoning his family's ancestral rites. He wondered if his father, now gone, would find peace in the underworld.

  Since he'd heard the news of Zhang Yuan's death, sleep had become a torment. How could he dare to sleep? Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his mother's helpless cries and his sister's despairing gaze. Now, the dreams would include one more: his father, who had raised and nurtured him, his dearest family member.

  All those he loved had met tragic ends, and though indirectly, he couldn't shake the guilt that they had all perished because of him. In the end, he hadn't even been able to save his father. He'd become a mere pawn for Han Zhi to hasten his father's death.

  "Miss Song, let's make a deal," he said, sitting across from her with downcast eyes, his voice hoarse. "Han Zhi destroyed me and my family. I want him to pay. I know you also have a score to settle with him..."

  Instinctively, he felt he shouldn't try any deceit with this young woman. Someone as shrewd and astute as she was could only be met with honesty. He continued, "He has a child he's using to threaten you, doesn't he? You also know... you know what kind of retionship he and I share. He needs a wife, a woman of social standing, and he thinks you're the perfect candidate."

  He couldn't help but find it bitterly ironic, and once again, he was struck by Han Zhi's utter ck of humanity. Han Zhi knew only trade-offs and threats, as though he could manipute the human heart as easily as pulling a string. It was ughable that even after destroying Zhang Run's entire family, Han Zhi could think Zhang Run would willingly stay with him, living as an anonymous, rootless companion.

  Song Chuyi didn't respond right away, but merely looked at Zhang Run. She saw, as expected, the burning hatred in his bloodshot eyes, a hatred toward Han Zhi that could not be concealed.

  She thought for a moment, then raised her chin slightly, asking, "Does he allow you to come and go freely?"

  Knowing Han Zhi's cautious nature, she doubted he'd make such a mistake. After all, Zhang Yuan had once been a bureaucrat in the Ministry of Revenue and ter promoted to the Weaving Bureau in Yangzhou, with ample connections in the capital. Wasn't Han Zhi worried someone might recognize Zhang Run while he roamed freely around the city?

  Zhang Run shook his head. "He keeps a tight watch. I've been waiting over a month just for this one chance to come out."

  In other words, from the time she was at the hunting grounds, Zhang Run had been meticulously pnning for this meeting. This person, despite his calm exterior, clearly knew the stakes. More importantly, he was a person with genuine emotions and motivations.

  Han Zhi couldn't see his hatred, but Song Chuyi could.

  She smiled faintly, her bracelets clinking with a light, crisp sound as she pondered for a moment before asking, "In the future, if I need to contact you, where should I find you?"

  To reassure her and facilitate their meeting, Zhang Run had already disclosed his current residence in his letter. However, she was certain that Han Zhi's people would be closely watching that pce, making it inconvenient for future contact.

  She saw in Zhang Run the makings of an effective weapon—a person who had entirely forsaken the desire to live, fixated solely on revenge. His father's recent death had only intensified this resolve.

  But now wasn't the right time to deploy him. If she exposed Zhang Run too early, Han Zhi might face charges of harboring a fugitive and forging documents, but that offense could be mitigated depending on the support he had from powerful allies like the Eastern Pace's Consort Fan, Zhou Weiqi, and his father, General Han Zhengqing, stationed in Datong. They had the means to protect him.

  She needed time to pn how to maximize Zhang Run's potential. Without hiding the stakes from him, she id it out clearly, "Young Master Zhang, consider your answer carefully before you proceed. Once you start down this path, there's no turning back—you may lose your life."

  This was something Zhang Run understood even better than she did. In those desperate, directionless days after his family's downfall, he'd thought of turning himself in to the capital's judiciary, whether the Shuntian Prefecture, the Dali Temple, or even the Ministry of Justice. But he was also the son of an official family and knew that simply speaking up wouldn't affect Han Zhi or Han Zhengqing in any meaningful way.

  Now that someone was here to channel his actions toward their highest potential, he was more than willing. Though he knew his life was a gift from his parents, not to be destroyed lightly, that duty felt hollow now that they had all perished due to his own mistakes in judgment. If he, as their son, couldn't avenge them, then keeping this life was meaningless.