119. Suspected of Treason and Collusion with the Enemy

Moge Yi’s lips curved slightly, his face as flawless as jade, exuding an imposing and dignified presence. He carried himself with such refined elegance, bearing a single hand behind his back, embodying the utmost grace and humility.

Such a young gentleman, radiating noble aura, immediately won Dongfang Mei’s favor. If it weren’t for Ziyuan being part of the Linlang Pavilion, well-versed in many matters, she might have been deceived by Moge Yi’s polished demeanor as well.

“My humble self, Mrs. Dongfang, sincerely thanks you for your great kindness, young master,” Dongfang Mei said softly, adjusting her gown and gently bowing with a slight turn of her face.

At these words, Moge Yi’s eyes brightened. As a merchant, even for a prestigious family like the Mo clan, it was always preferable to cultivate friends among the aristocracy rather than make enemies. Although Guo Mian, the governor of Yizhou, was not a high-ranking capital official, Moge Yi was keen to foster good relations.

The Linlang Pavilion needed no introduction, famous across the three kingdoms of Dayin, Nanqi, and Yunli. Its master, the Nine-Fox King, was a shadowy figure rarely seen, with rumors suggesting that anyone who caught his favor would swiftly ascend the ranks.

Thus, Moge Yi’s decisive assistance earlier and his insistence on acquiring that barbarian woman were not without reason.

Because both Ziyuan and Dongfang Mei were women, Moge Yi did not linger long. After exchanging pleasantries and leaving a good impression, he departed with leisurely grace.

Once the flower hall was left with only Ziyuan and Dongfang Mei, Ziyuan helped Dongfang Mei sit down, first pouring a cup of cool tea to calm her nerves before quietly retrieving a slip of paper. She unfolded it delicately.

In the blink of an eye, Ziyuan’s face turned pale and strained.

Dongfang Mei took a sip of tea, regaining her composure enough to notice Ziyuan’s trembling hands. “Ziyuan, what’s happened?”

Ziyuan forced a bitter smile and handed the note to Dongfang Mei. “Madam, please see for yourself.”

Dongfang Mei set down her cup and unfolded the paper fully, only to find it covered in the barbarian script of Nanqi, which she could not understand. “What does this say? I don’t read the barbarian language.”

Ziyuan’s expression darkened, her almond-shaped eyes reflecting frustration. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have acted so rashly or inadvertently taken this from that barbarian woman. If the Pavilion Master found out I interfered, she would have me beaten to death.”

Hearing this, Dongfang Mei’s curiosity deepened. “Tell me quickly, what does it say?”

Ziyuan poured herself a glass of water but did not drink. She held it in her hands, hesitating before speaking. “I spent part of my childhood at the Linlang Pavilion in Nanqi, so I understand some of the barbarian script.”

She continued, “It states that the entire plan is proceeding smoothly. It lists the names of the powerful families in Yizhou City, the strength of the governor’s forces, and concludes by instructing the barbarian to remain hidden in Yizhou until the day they can sneak out disguised in a capital-bound merchant convoy.”

Ziyuan finished without blinking, her gaze fixed on Dongfang Mei.

Sure enough, Dongfang Mei frowned, pondering for a moment before realization dawned. Her face changed drastically. “Are you saying this note is…”

“…Evidence of treason… of betraying the country?” she stammered, shivering at the word.

Ziyuan remained silent, unwilling to respond rashly.

Dongfang Mei’s thoughts grew darker. Guo Mian was the governor of Yizhou; if this matter were discovered, or the note fell into the wrong hands, it would mean the ruin of her entire clan.

Ziyuan sighed and reminded her, “Madam, did you notice the ink on the note?”

Dongfang Mei looked again. “Is there something wrong with it?”

“Not to conceal anything from you, Madam, I am not an expert in ink, but I know the items of our Pavilion well,” Ziyuan said, pointing to the ink. “See, the ink is clear and elegant, with a faint fragrance and a faint purple sheen—that is our Linlang Pavilion’s exclusive rosewood ink. So…”

She paused, her eyes solemn. “Whoever wrote this note did so inside the Pavilion. Moreover, no barbarian woman has entered the Pavilion through the main gate today. This means the writer and the barbarian are working together. I will inquire discreetly to find out which guest asked their attendant for paper and ink today, so we don’t alert them prematurely.”

Dongfang Mei nodded thoughtfully. It made sense. The fierce barbarian woman just now, if she hurried back and was discovered, might be silenced for good.

“Go ask, but be careful,” Dongfang Mei instructed cautiously.

Ziyuan’s expression hardened. She apologized with a nod, her skirt flowing like a blooming lotus as she vanished from the flower hall.

Not long after, Gu Fei, who had been watching the scene unfold, emerged from another room with a smile. Turning a corner, she saw Ziyuan standing elegantly in the shadows.

She glanced around; this corner was secluded, and passersby rarely paid much attention.

“How do you feel, Miss? Did I handle it well enough to please you?” Ziyuan’s fingers covered her lips, and she smiled coquettishly, fluttering her peach blossom eyes as if she might ensnare any man’s soul.

Gu Fei quickly suppressed her smile and replied dryly, “If it’s just your eyelids twitching, you should see a doctor quickly.”

Ziyuan choked on her words, shooting Gu Fei a mock reproachful glance.

Her voice was melodious and captivating, enough to make one’s very bones tingle, but as a fellow woman, Gu Fei found it unbearable. She rubbed her arms and glanced sideways. “Mrs. Guo will be getting impatient soon.”

Ziyuan understood Gu Fei didn’t want to say more. She dared not be reckless and reluctantly bent her knees. Once Gu Fei left, Ziyuan took a few steps toward the flower hall.

Inside, Dongfang Mei was restless—sitting, standing, pacing, then sitting again, frequently glancing toward the door. When she finally saw Ziyuan’s figure, she exhaled in relief.

“Ziyuan, what news?” she asked before Ziyuan had even entered.

Ziyuan’s face was grim, her brows cold and rigid as ice. She nodded to Dongfang Mei, then sat down quietly without speaking for a long while.

Dongfang Mei grew anxious. This concerned her husband’s future—and a matter potentially worth losing her head over. How could she remain calm? “Ziyuan, just say it.”

Ziyuan’s eyes were deep and inscrutable. She looked at Dongfang Mei, moved her lips, and slowly said, “I just asked. Madam… it is…”

“Who?” Dongfang Mei’s brows tightened sharply.

“The attendant said only one young master from the capital named Mo used the paper and ink,” Ziyuan said slowly, each word like a shard of ice cutting the air.

Dongfang Mei was stunned. “Young Master Mo?”

Suddenly, she recalled the elegant gentleman earlier. “Could it be… him?”

“Yes,” Ziyuan interrupted firmly.

Instantly, Dongfang Mei’s face turned as white as snow. She gasped and remained frozen for a long moment. “He… he even helped earlier, so… so it was a test?”

Ziyuan sighed bitterly and smiled wryly. “Most likely.”

Grasping such a monumental secret weighed heavily on Dongfang Mei’s heart. For a moment, she had no idea what to do.

Ziyuan took in her expression fully before standing and taking her hand. “Madam, do not worry. As long as you remain in the Linlang Pavilion, I will protect you with my life. I dare not let you return home alone now. How about I send someone to fetch Governor Guo to escort you? What do you think?”

“Good, good,” Dongfang Mei said, feeling lost but grateful for Ziyuan’s presence—it gave her some stability.

Ziyuan’s eyes flickered. She called out, “Someone, go fetch Governor Guo to the Linlang Pavilion.”

After giving the order, she turned to distract Dongfang Mei with introductions to other rare items. But no matter how much she tried, Dongfang Mei’s worry remained unmoved.

Meanwhile, outside the Linlang Pavilion, Nightingale was pushing Gu Fei’s wheelchair, followed by You Er, as they walked toward the Gu family residence. They had not gone far when they encountered Moge Yi emerging from another alley.

A servant wearing a wide-brimmed hat trailed behind him, and Moge Yi’s expression was grim, muttering reprimands under his breath.

Nightingale paused and glanced at Gu Fei, intending to detour, but Moge Yi’s sharp eyes caught sight of Gu Fei.

He sneered before approaching. “What’s this? Fei sister, afraid of me already that you run away?”

Gu Fei pressed her lips firmly together, her sharp jawline like a blade. She didn’t reply but instead fixed her gaze on the servant behind Moge Yi.

For some reason, she found the man strangely familiar.

Moge Yi’s anger flared at being ignored. His brows drew tight, and he bent down close to Gu Fei, suddenly grabbing her jaw. “Don’t be too grateful I’m letting you live a few more days.”

Gu Fei finally met his gaze, expressionless yet mocking. “The same words come to my mind.”

As if hearing the greatest joke, Moge Yi laughed aloud. He tightened his grip, causing blood to well from Gu Fei’s jaw. “Don’t worry, the real show is still to come tonight. You’ll never forget it!”

A dark fury surged in Gu Fei. Suddenly, she reached out and grabbed a tuft of fine hair at Moge Yi’s temple, clenching tightly. “Let’s see who suffers more!”

Moge Yi bit his lip, sweat nearly breaking out on his brow from the pain. “Get off!”

He tried to push her away.

You Er reacted fastest, slapping out just as Moge Yi raised his hand. Unexpectedly, the servant behind Moge Yi also struck swiftly.

A muffled thud echoed as a palm met a fist before they withdrew.

Almost simultaneously, Moge Yi and Gu Fei released their holds. Moge Yi stepped back, and Nightingale pulled Gu Fei’s wheelchair away.

The two sides, three against two, faced each other like opposing armies, neither willing to yield.

In some sense, both Gu Fei and Moge Yi were ruthless. The difference was that Moge Yi was merciless toward others, while Gu Fei was merciless both to others and to herself.

Their fierce gazes met and flared, like two armies at a standoff, neither willing to back down.

“Young Master Mo, so you’re here. Let me…” Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupted.

Moge Yi and Gu Fei both turned toward the speaker, their fierce tensions shifting onto the newcomer, silencing the rest of his words.

Gu Fei’s pupils contracted sharply. It was none other than Gu Min.