That wretch has disappeared.

In just two days, under the deliberate machinations of the Glorious Pavilion, at least three or four of the ink-making families in Yizhou had received word that the renowned Capital Ink Guild was seeking to purchase large quantities of Yizhou ink. This earth-shattering deceit was like a fisherman’s net—Mister Nine spared none whom he deemed of some standing, ruthlessly ensnaring all in one sweep atop Gu Fei’s careful scheming. Not only the Minor Ink Guild and the Huang family, but even the Gu family, though only second-rate, had caught wind of it, else they would hardly have been privy to such affairs.

The first in the Gu family to learn of the matter was Madam Cui. Master Gu Zhong was still pondering what sort of new ink mold Gu Fei might carve this time, spending days at the shop discussing with his manager how best to leverage Gu Fei’s skill to elevate the family’s status. Madam Cui, meanwhile, had gleaned the news from Gu Wanting, who in turn had picked up hints from Mo Yuhua. The details were murky, but she knew that within a few days there would be an ink-crafting contest, and the winning family would be crowned the foremost in Yizhou.

Unable to wait for Gu Zhong’s return or find anyone else to consult, Madam Cui went to see Gu Wanting, hoping to learn how their family might participate in the contest. She did not hope for first place, but with the Minor Ink Guild’s support, a second or third would suffice.

Yet, the moment she voiced her thoughts, Gu Wanting rejected her outright. In her words, it was difficult enough that she had learned of this at all; the Minor Ink Guild was embroiled in its own troubles with the Huang family and had no capacity to aid others. Though the two families were nominally engaged, she had yet to marry in, and it would hardly make her well-liked to expect her future husband’s family to support her own.

Madam Cui sighed, knowing her daughter spoke the truth. But then, Gu Wanting’s expression darkened, sharp resentment flickering in her usually proud eyes. Plucking a peony from the porcelain vase and crushing it in her hand, she murmured, “You want the Gu family to make a name for itself? That’s easy enough. Father has his eye on that wretch’s skill—let her enter the contest. I’m sure Father will agree.”

Madam Cui stiffened, staring at her daughter as if seeing her for the first time in ten years; the hatred in Gu Wanting’s eyes for Gu Fei was unmistakable. She parted her lips to offer comfort but could not find the words.

Gu Wanting tossed the mangled petals to the floor, turning to her mother with a curling smile. “Mother, you dislike her too, do you not? Father even quarreled with you over her. If she competes in the contest and wins, the Gu family profits. If she loses—” The rest of her words dissolved into a brittle laugh, cold as ice. “If she loses Father’s favor, let’s see who will still shield her.”

Madam Cui shook her head. Though she knew her daughter’s reasoning was sound, she could not forget the argument she and Gu Zhong had that night when they acknowledged Gu Fei as kin—her husband’s words and demeanor had wounded her more deeply than anything before. She wished to avoid further conflict with Gu Fei, finding the girl disturbingly odd, especially those unnaturally large, dark eyes that seemed to swallow all light. At least until her son Gu Fan returned home, she would endure, steering clear of open discord.

“I heard she hasn’t left the workshop in days. Your father keeps thinking about the new ink mold she’s carving,” Madam Cui remarked lightly. She then scolded the servants in Gu Wanting’s courtyard and urged her daughter to rest and care for her health before finally departing.

Gu Wanting snorted coldly, her figure radiating icy malice. Watching her mother’s retreating figure, the hatred in her eyes grew as still and dark as stagnant water.

That night, Madam Cui recounted everything in detail to Gu Zhong, her tone tinged with regret. Seeing him stroking his beard in silence, she recalled Gu Wanting’s words from earlier and offhandedly asked, “Do you think that girl might participate?”

As expected, Gu Zhong shook his head repeatedly, then after a moment removed his outer robe and said, “This whole ink contest strikes me as odd. We’ve had such events in Yizhou before, but this year...”

He pondered deeply, his brow furrowing. “It’s all so sudden, and much remains unclear—like the prizes for the winner, which are far less transparent than in years past. I think we’d best not muddy the waters. Let’s take things step by step, first using Fei’s carved molds to build our reputation. If there truly are great benefits to be had from this contest, it’s nearly August now—Wanting will marry in October. Should there be any advantage, the Minor Ink Guild would not forget us.”

Madam Cui considered and agreed. Any other thoughts she had were tamped down. After all, come September, Gu Fan would certainly return home—once their son was back, surely Gu Zhong would not spare another thought for that girl of uncertain blood.

The two sat side by side on the edge of the bed as Madam Cui lowered the mosquito net, chatting idly about household matters. As they were about to extinguish the lamp—

“Father, Mother...” Gu Wanting burst in, skirts gathered, pushing open the door with a bang. “That wretch has disappeared...”

Gu Zhong’s reprimand froze on his lips, stifled by her words. He shot to his feet, his voice booming, “What do you mean, disappeared?”

Madam Cui also rose, hastily tossing a robe over Gu Zhong’s shoulders and turning to Gu Wanting, her face darkening with displeasure.

Gu Wanting paid her no mind. She let out a cold laugh, her eyes glinting like jewels. “The entire Azure Ink Courtyard, not a soul to be seen—quiet as can be. I searched inside and out, but that wretch was nowhere to be found, nor her old maid who attends her. Neither are anywhere in the residence.”

“And the workshop?” Gu Zhong deftly retied his sash, not bothering to smooth his loose hair.

“No one there either, only piles of wood for carving ink molds.” Gu Wanting felt a thrill of excitement, her blood roaring—her intuition told her Gu Fei was doomed this time.

“Come!” Gu Zhong swept his sleeves and strode off toward the Azure Ink Courtyard.

The small courtyard, illuminated by lanterns and torches, bustled as never before. Gu Zhong glared at the wood for ink molds hauled from the workshop, his expression thunderous.

Gu Wanting, ever eager to incite trouble, sneered, “It’s the middle of the night, and she’s gone. She’s in a wheelchair—who knows if her maid pushed her out to meet some illicit lover? And as for her carving—”

“Enough!” Gu Zhong cut her off, recalling how the old nurse had recently come to him for wood chits. Thinking it all through now, he sensed something amiss.

Everyone in the household knew Gu Fei’s health was poor; for her to be shut up in the workshop for days would tax even a man, let alone a young woman.

“Find her. Search all of Yizhou if you must,” Gu Zhong ordered furiously before storming off.

Gu Wanting was delighted, signaling for the maids to raise their lanterns. She’d noticed the unusual quiet in the Azure Ink Courtyard for days, and tonight had only wandered by under the pretext of the ink contest. Who would have thought she’d stumble upon this? Gu Fei had brazenly left the residence for days on end. Once she spread the news, with a little embellishment, let’s see how Gu Fei could ever regain her footing!

Meanwhile, Gu Fei, at the Huang residence, was ignorant of the stir at the Gu house. She held a blue-and-white porcelain teacup, sipping lightly as she gazed mockingly at Huang Pinyuan across from her. Only when he grew impatient did she at last acquiesce to representing the Huang family in the ink contest.

Huang Pinyuan was overjoyed. Since witnessing Gu Fei’s ink-making skill, he’d secretly consulted the family’s master craftsman, who admitted he could not fathom her technique but had no doubt her skills were of the highest order—perhaps on par with the great master Feng Puyu himself.

Huang Pinyuan could almost see the Huang family defeating the Minor Ink Guild at the contest, securing that coveted batch of Yizhou ink from the Glorious Pavilion, and standing tall before the Capital Ink Guild a month later, the Minor Ink Guild crushed beneath his heel.

Gu Fei inhaled the fragrant tea, the rim of the cup hiding her cryptic smile. Her dark eyes shimmered with a secret light, seductive as a forbidden spell, locking onto Huang Pinyuan. In an instant, her gaze was as deep as ink, rich enough to drown a man.