Wretched girl, bringing harm to so many.

Whether Youhu would leave, or when he would leave, Gu Fei no longer concerned herself with these questions. She simply gave her instructions, then silently entered the Ink Chamber alone. Once the door closed, no one could get in.

Aunt Ku hesitated, pacing back and forth outside the Ink Chamber several times before finally sighing and going off to find Youhu.

What was said between her and Youhu, no one knew. But Youhu did not comply with Gu Fei’s wishes at all; he still lived in the Azure Ink Courtyard as a matter of course. But as for anything concerning Gu Fei, he no longer involved himself. The second You brother was also barred from the Ink Chamber—Gu Fei had thoroughly isolated the You brothers.

More precisely, she had shut everyone else out.

For several days, only the occasional sound of pounding could be heard from the Ink Chamber. Otherwise, Aunt Ku would have barged in long ago. Even meals were sent in through the wooden window—sometimes the dishes were taken, other times they remained untouched.

Aunt Ku could do nothing but sigh repeatedly. Every so often, she would glance at Youhu, who sat quietly reading in the courtyard. Her brows furrowed, unsure what she could say. Both these two were sharp as needles, equally matched in cunning. If they were united, others could only consider themselves unfortunate. But now, with the two at odds, neither would back down, resulting in the current stalemate.

On the fifth day, Youhu went out for a while. When he returned, he tossed a thick ledger and a stack of banknotes through the Ink Chamber’s window. After that, he no longer set foot outside the Azure Ink Courtyard, spending his days with a book in hand, writing occasionally, truly living as a scholar.

That afternoon, the door to the Ink Chamber creaked open. Gu Fei wheeled herself out, the ledger and banknotes resting on her lap.

Having not seen sunlight for days, her already pale face was now almost translucent, her thin frame even more gaunt beneath her robes.

Passing through the Azure Ink Courtyard, her first sight was Youhu reclining in the shade beneath a tree, his green robe falling softly in the dappled light, his handsome, porcelain-pale face gentle and serene. He saw Gu Fei as well, but after a slight pause in turning his book, he looked away with an indifferent, almost unfamiliar distance.

Gu Fei did not stop. She passed by Youhu as if he were invisible and called inside the main hall for Aunt Ku, “Aunt Ku, put the banknotes away.”

Aunt Ku was overjoyed to see Gu Fei finally emerge and responded loudly, then asked, “Miss, would you like some refreshments? Perhaps you should rest first?”

Gu Fei shook her head. She went to the water vat under the eaves, glanced at the pair of ornamental carp swimming inside, and opened the ledger on her lap to study it.

The ledger was for the Gu family’s shop, and the stack of banknotes represented the profits made in recent days. Youhu had brought them out and tossed them to her, but Gu Fei took it in stride. She had already planned, before the eldest son Gu Min returned, to secure both the shop’s recipes and its money. Even if Youhu hadn’t delivered them, she would have left the Ink Chamber soon to retrieve them herself.

She spent half a day organizing the accounts and, once the banknotes tallied, was satisfied.

Next, she handed the ledger to Aunt Ku and instructed her to return it to the shop. From then on, she would have the shop’s daily cash brought to her, not leaving so much as half a tael for the rest of the Gu family.

On the seventh day, Le Qingbo came again to the Gu residence. Seeing the sharpness of Gu Fei’s jaw, his heart ached as if filled with sour water.

He suggested once more, “A Fei, things have come to this—won’t you return to the capital?”

Despite his anger at Gu Fei’s scheming, the days had worn away his resentment. Ten years as childhood friends had left him unable to let go, and he still worried for her as much as ever.

Gu Fei was weighing a pinch of soot at her side. She did not look up, but continued adding soot to the small scale pan, the black powder sifting down with a soft patter, as if she had not heard his question.

Le Qingbo shifted his stance and watched her movements, unbothered, and continued, “Recently, Mo Yan threatened to report you to the magistrate for imprisonment. I intervened, and now he says the matter can be settled if you hand over your incense-ink recipe.”

Gu Fei’s hands stilled. At last, she raised her eyes to look at Le Qingbo, a mocking smile at her lips. “He wants my recipe?”

Le Qingbo nodded. Even though he was not an expert in ink-making, he’d spent enough time among the Mo family in the capital to know how valuable a recipe was. He had not expected Mo Yan’s ambition to be so great, so certain that Gu Fei had no choice but to surrender and hand it over.

Gu Fei gave a low, derisive laugh. She put her work aside, laced her fingers under her chin, and looked at Le Qingbo with a playful, scornful gaze. “And you think I ought to hand over my recipe in exchange for a quiet life?”

That question left Le Qingbo at a loss. He lowered his gaze to the small pile of soot, thinking before he replied, “I know how precious your recipe is, especially since it’s the result of your painstaking effort. For years, the ink trade has seen no new varieties, and this incense-ink, if sent to the Bureau of Inks, might even reach the Emperor himself.”

He finished in one breath, then looked steadily at Gu Fei, offering a wry smile. “But A Fei, do you know those fifty-odd ink pellets you destroyed belonged to Mo Geyi? You know as well as I do how narrow-minded he is, unable to tolerate anyone outshining him. When he arrives in Yizhou and learns of the incense-ink’s existence, even without the destruction of his ink, he would demand the recipe. Could you refuse?”

No one understood the Mo family better than Gu Fei. She sneered coldly, her voice firm, “Never!”

Her mind turned, and she continued, “The incense-ink recipe is mine and belongs to the Gu family as well. Who does Mo Yan think he is?”

“You—” Le Qingbo was exasperated. The silver tassels on his jade crown swayed, scattering cold light among his dark hair, lending him a unique nobility. He clasped his hands behind his back and paced before stopping to look at Gu Fei, gritting his teeth. “A Fei, you really have landed me in a world of trouble.”

Gu Fei fell silent at that. She rolled a piece of deer glue between her fingers before finally saying, “In that case, you needn’t concern yourself with me anymore.”

Le Qingbo sighed. He stepped closer, reaching out to touch her hairpin, and said softly, “How could I not care for you? A Fei, listen to me—come back to the capital…”

Gu Fei set the deer glue aside. Her head was bowed, her expression unreadable. “Don’t speak of it again. I will not return.”

Even though he had anticipated this answer, hearing it still left Le Qingbo unsettled. After being refused so many times, a trace of irritation crept into his heart.

His expression cooled, and he could not help but think Gu Fei was being obstinate. “Has someone said something to you? Was destroying the ink someone else’s idea?”

Gu Fei had no idea how he reached that conclusion, but she replied lightly, “No one put me up to it. I destroyed what belonged to Mo Geyi and the lesser Mo family.”

At that, Le Qingbo was truly speechless. After a long while, his handsome face set in cold lines, he said without expression, “A Fei, why are you so different from before?”

Without waiting for her reply, he turned and left, his fine robes swirling in an elegant arc. She watched as his figure and the shadow at his feet receded, growing distant until he disappeared.

Gu Fei rested her hand beside the ink materials, staring unblinkingly for a long time. Only when her eyes grew sore did she lift a hand to rub them and call for Aunt Ku.

When Aunt Ku entered, Gu Fei had already brushed out the incense-ink recipe in swift strokes and handed it to her. “Take this to Gu Zhong. Tell him it’s an early wedding gift for my elder sister Gu Wanting. Then spread the word that Gu Zhong now possesses the complete incense-ink recipe. Say that any future recipes of mine will belong entirely to the Gu family.”

Aunt Ku accepted the instructions and went to see them carried out.

Gu Fei finally sneered. Since Mo Yan wanted to force her hand, she would simply deflect the trouble elsewhere. Even if Gu Zhong guessed her intentions, faced with the lure of the incense-ink recipe—such a tempting prize—even if he knew it was a hot potato, he would accept without hesitation.

As for letting go of such a prized possession, not just Gu Zhong—anyone else would hesitate to give it up.

Was it not Mo Yan who lusted after her recipe? She would have Mo Yan and Gu Zhong locked in mutual suspicion, fighting each other like dogs for a bone.

Such little tricks Gu Fei had mastered to perfection. Soon, she put it all from her mind, focusing solely on the ink materials before her.

After being so thoroughly manipulated by Youhu, and with any possibility with Le Qingbo now cut off—though he had treated her no differently than before, even urging her to return to the capital again and again—she knew deep down that things had changed. She and Le Qingbo had reached the end, or perhaps the day would come soon when they stood as enemies. And all of this was thanks to Youhu.

This was why she could not forgive him. The last trace of warmth she still cherished, he had ruthlessly snatched away and crushed.

Whenever her mood soured, she would shut herself in the Ink Chamber, working day and night at her craft, emptying both mind and body until exhaustion left her too tired to think of anything else.

But let us leave Gu Fei for the moment and turn to Gu Zhong, who now possessed the incense-ink recipe.

He sat in the hall, studying the detailed recipe in his hand, noting every ingredient and precise weight. Yet he felt its weight pressing down on him.

Madam Cui, beside him, was all smiles, her brows alight with satisfaction. She glanced repeatedly at the recipe in Gu Zhong’s hand and could not help but say, “See, I told you that wretched girl would never win everyone over. Didn’t take long for her to run out of options and obediently hand over the recipe.”

Gu Zhong stroked his beard, his expression unreadable. “It’s not so simple.”

Madam Cui didn’t understand. Gu Zhong set the recipe down and tapped it with his finger. “This recipe is of immense value. That girl is no fool. For her to hand it over now—there must be more to it.”

Madam Cui scoffed. She patted his arm reassuringly. “You’re overthinking it. That wretched girl must have come to her senses—realized that if she angered you here, she’d suffer once Gu Min returned. So, she’s trying to make amends.”

Unable to figure it out for the moment, Gu Zhong decided to set aside his doubts. Still, as he looked at the recipe in his hand, he could not help but feel pleased. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

But his pleasure lasted less than two days. Just as news spread that he had obtained the complete recipe, a letter from Mo Yan arrived.

The letter declared that Mo Yuhua, the eldest son of the lesser Mo family, was to be married, and such a matter could not be handled carelessly. To the original betrothal gifts sent to the Gu family, another forty percent would be added, and these would soon arrive in person.

Madam Cui could hardly believe it; she felt as if a pie had fallen from the heavens. For days, she moved about in a daze, while even the usually reserved Gu Zhong wore a springlike smile.

Three days later, Mo Yan himself arrived, accompanied by several large vermilion chests, each bound with red silk, radiating festivity.

Gu Zhong was delighted to welcome him, their conversation lively and warm.

At last, Mo Yan brought up the matter of the recipe. Gu Zhong, caught off guard, heard Mo Yan request to see it.

It was as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over his head. Gu Zhong froze, and only after a long moment did he react. His first thought was—

That wretched girl—what a dangerous trap she’s set!