With Zhao Mian’s overarching strategy finalized, the Nanjing envoys engaged in days of intense negotiation with both Dongling and Beiyuan. The three nations then inked a series of agreements, some of which could be made public, while others remained known only to the two parties involved.

Dongling was to pay reparations, hand over the culprit, and issue an apology. Beiyuan, in turn, presented Gu Ruzhang’s personal token, and from that point forward their every move in searching for the Western Xia treasures would be subject to Nanjing’s oversight.

Thus, the storm ignited by the Male-Female Gu found its end. On the surface, Nanjing emerged as the primary beneficiary, yet only Zhao Mian understood the hidden price he had paid.

From childhood, instilled with the teachings of his two fathers, Zhao Mian had harbored a beautiful fantasy for his future Crown Princess: “one lifetime, one partner.” Alas, his grand endeavor had barely begun before it crumbled midway. His dream of a Crown Princess lay shattered, ruined by both Wan Huameng and Wei Zhenfeng.

The day following the signing of the accords, Wei Zhenfeng, true to his word, delivered one of Gu Ruzhang’s tokens: the Seal of the Grand Tutor, Chief Minister of Western Xia.

In the final years of Western Xia, Gu Ruzhang served as the nation’s de facto ruler. Every imperial decree and military order issued by the court bore the imprint of the Chief Minister’s Seal. Some generals stationed outside the capital even disregarded the Emperor’s jade seal, only recognizing the three characters “Gu Ruzhang.”

Upon Western Xia’s collapse, the Chief Minister’s Seal vanished along with Gu Ruzhang. Whispers claimed that whoever found the seal could, in Gu Ruzhang’s name, rally all remaining patriots of Western Xia to rise against Beiyuan and restore Western Xia.

Zhao Mian hadn’t anticipated such magnanimity from Wei Zhenfeng. He scrutinized the golden and jade-carved seal, roughly the size of his palm. As he contemplated its past, how it had witnessed a nation’s demise in Gu Ruzhang’s hands, he almost envisioned a warm-faced young man with a crown of white hair, clad in a purple Western Xia official’s robe, diligently writing under dim lamplight.

Zhao Mian lifted his gaze to Wei Zhenfeng: “You’re giving me this?”

Wei Zhenfeng shrugged indifferently: “Western Xia perished long ago. If a mere Chief Minister’s Seal could resurrect a nation, what would Beiyuan’s past decade or so of efforts count for? A person’s token, without the person, is no different from waste paper. Overthrow Beiyuan, Restore Xia’—ha, only fools would believe such a notion.”

Zhao Mian retorted blandly: “Oh, so you admit what you’ve given me is merely waste paper?”

Wei Zhenfeng chuckled: “In another’s hands, this item might indeed be waste paper, but in Your Highness’s grasp, it will surely serve a great purpose.”

Knowing full well that Wei Zhenfeng was merely speaking flattering words he enjoyed hearing, Zhao Mian’s expression softened nonetheless.

Damn it, he knew the saying about honest advice being hard to swallow, but he just loved being praised.

Zhao Mian instructed Shen Buqi to carefully store the seal. Just then, Bai Yu entered to report: “Your Royal Highness, the carriage is prepared. We may depart at any moment.”

Zhao Mian nodded: “Let us go.” He turned to Wei Zhenfeng, “Will you join me?”

“Absolutely,” Wei Zhenfeng declared. “How could I miss such a spectacle?”

According to the terms of the agreement, Dongling was to have escorted Wan Huameng to the Nanjing Embassy, from where Nanjing would transport him into their own territory. However, Wan Huameng was notoriously cunning and treacherous. Though his martial arts were unremarkable, his mastery of covert poisoning was unparalleled under heaven. Zhao Mian had been tricked by him twice due to underestimation. This time, unless meticulously prepared, he would absolutely not allow his people near Wan Huameng, to avoid any unforeseen misfortunes.

​​Thus, until the reinforcements from the Qianji Institute arrived, Wan Huameng remained confined in Mount Nangong, guarded by Dongling, with Zhao Mian retaining the right to interrogate him at any time.

This marked the second time Zhao Mian and his retinue journeyed to Mount Nangong. Gazing upon the Nangong peaks once more, the oppressive solemnity of their nocturnal intrusion was gone, replaced by the serene and spacious charm of the mountain’s snowy landscape.

In truth, the scenery remained the same; what differed was merely the state of mind of the visitors.

An old eunuch named Fu An had been waiting for them for a long time. It was said he was an old retainer who personally served Lu Wang: “Lord Xiao, Young Prince, please follow me.”

Zhao Mian’s party followed Fu An through winding paths and countless hidden passages, eventually arriving at the entrance of a vast, empty hall. Zhao Mian was puzzled that this palace wasn’t on the Mount Nangong map Bai Yu had drawn when he heard Wei Zhenfeng say, “We should now be directly beneath the main hall, Chiyue Terrace.”

Fu An exclaimed in surprise: “Young Prince has excellent vision and memory!”

The first time Zhao Mian visited, he hadn’t noticed such a large space beneath the Chiyue Terrace. He recalled the bamboo forest that had trapped him and Wei Zhenfeng that day… how many more mechanisms within Mount Nangong remained unknown to him?

In this underground palace, identical in size to Chiyue Terrace, a huge, ornate birdcage stood in the center. The birdcage was surrounded by black water, with only a narrow, two-person wide path leading to its door.

Fu An informed Zhao Mian that every golden strand of this birdcage was forged with venom. Even the most skilled master, once trapped within, would not immediately perish but would become completely weak, like a crippled person.

As for the black water surrounding it, it was, naturally, immensely poisonous. In Wei Zhenfeng’s words, if you accidentally fell in, you’d immediately see your great-grandmother coming to greet you.

Fu An also added that this birdcage was a special tribute presented by Wan Huameng to the Empress Dowager on his fortieth birthday.

Wan Huameng was now imprisoned within the very golden birdcage he had personally crafted.

Lu Wang had truly abandoned his only shidi.

Wan Huameng sat at the very heart of the birdcage, his chained hands clasping his knees, head buried in them, breathing shallowly, as if asleep. He still wore the blood-stained white robes, having lost too much blood before his wounds healed, leaving him so frail now that he resembled a dying man, utterly devoid of color.

It seemed this was Wan Huameng’s true appearance. His growth appeared to have halted in his youth; his height and features had not matured with age. Always thin, always small.

Fu An cautiously approached the birdcage and called softly, “Imperial Advisor?”

Wan Huameng’s ear twitched.

“Someone has come to see you.”

Wan Huameng slowly lifted his head, his gaze momentarily lost, before a smile bloomed upon recognizing Zhao Mian and Wei Zhenfeng: “Ah, it’s you two.”

Zhao Mian looked up at the unreachable cage ceiling and stated calmly: “Your shixiong truly has the heart to confine you in such a place.”

“What do you know?” Wan Huameng’s head drooped again, his profile resting against his knees, facing Zhao Mian and Wei Zhenfeng. “A-Meng was going to die anyway. Isn’t it worthwhile for A-Meng’s life to temporarily resolve shixiong’s troubles?”

Zhao Mian’s heart stirred.

Going to die anyway? Was Wan Huameng referring to the Gu poison within him, or something else entirely?

Wei Zhenfeng chuckled: “I can see you’re not afraid of death. What, eager to join someone below?”

Wan Huameng suddenly froze, subconsciously clutching his wrist, the heavy chains clanking.

“Actually, you might not be without a way to live,” Wei Zhenfeng said with a solemn air, “As long as you find the lover who was infected with the Gu alongside you before the fifteenth of November, you…”

“Not a lover,” Wan Huameng first murmured softly, then, as if struck by some sudden surge, his voice rose sharply: “Not a lover!”

Wei Zhenfeng sneered: “Alright, alright, not a lover. Then what was your relationship— bed partners?”

Wan Huameng seemed stumped, a look of confusion clouding his face: “A-Meng met him at a wedding, and A-Meng likes him, but he doesn’t like A-Meng, but he would sleep with A-Meng. What kind of relationship is that, do you know?”

Zhao Mian said coldly: “He was willing to sleep with you only because you poisoned him with the Gu.”

“That’s because Shixiong told me that life is short, and if you meet someone you like, you must snatch them home,” Wan Huameng’s face was troubled, like a child fretting over an unobtainable toy. “But he was too difficult to snatch. He wasn’t willing to leave Western Xia. I pestered him for a long, long time before he reluctantly agreed to see me once a month. He likes bamboo, he likes painting, so I planted a vast bamboo forest for him, and bought him many paintbrushes…”

At this point, a glimmer of light finally entered Wan Huameng’s eyes, but it was fleeting, quickly dimming again.

“But he never painted a single picture for me. Those paintbrushes, he never used them.”

“Then Beiyuan did something, and he didn’t even have time for our monthly meeting anymore. He wanted me to give him the antidote, he wanted me to let him go.” Wan Huameng tugged at the corner of his mouth, unsure whether to cry or laugh. “…He wanted me to let him go.”

Zhao Mian asked: “You gave him the antidote?”

Without an antidote, Gu Ruzhang couldn’t possibly have survived until now.

Wan Huameng shook his head and said: “Shixiong also said that Western Xia was doomed, beyond saving by anyone. He was just a little bird struggling in the sea, destined to be submerged eventually. I refused to give him the antidote. I begged him to stay and accompany me. I said I was going to die soon, and I wanted to be with him. I kept begging him, kept begging him… I told him he would die without the antidote too, that only by staying by my side, staying in Dongling, could he survive—but he still wanted to leave.”

Wan Huameng stood within the birdcage, weeping and laughing simultaneously, tears streaming down his face, in a state of delusion and madness, like a lunatic. Or perhaps, Wan Huameng was a lunatic to begin with.

“Then I thought, let him die then,” Wan Huameng suddenly dropped all expression, letting out a cold laugh. “Anyway, he doesn’t like A-Meng, so if he dies, he dies. I’ll find others to play with; Shixiong spoils me so much, I can pick anyone. And then… on the fourteenth of the second month, he truly didn’t come again.”

Zhao Mian asked curiously: “If that’s the case, why didn’t Gu Ruzhang die from the Gu’s outbreak?”

“Because I went to find him,” Wan Huameng’s expression was as vacant as a corpse, yet tears incessantly streamed, shattering on the ornate floor of the birdcage. “I went to Western Xia, to the Gu family residence. I cured his gu poison.”

“But he didn’t say a single word to me.”

Listening to Wan Huameng speak so much, it wasn’t hard to see that not only had his appearance remained unchanged for over a decade, but his mental faculties seemed also frozen in adolescence. Many things, he simply didn’t care about, for he fundamentally didn’t comprehend them.

How could Gu Ruzhang not know that Western Xia was doomed? He knew from beginning to end that his actions could not alter the outcome of Western Xia’s demise. That was why he had exhausted himself, diligently leaving a final glimmer of hope for Western Xia’s descendants, was it not?

“That’s enough, isn’t it?” Wei Zhenfeng, growing weary of such tales of love and hate, deep passions and endless sorrows, yawned. “From what you say, Gu Ruzhang must truly despise you?”

“Yes,” Wan Huameng suddenly stopped crying. He offered them a gentle smile. “You’ve come to find me because you want to know the whereabouts of the Western Xia treasure, right? You’re so foolish. He loathes A-Meng so much, why would he tell A-Meng his most important secret?” His smile was innocent and naive, like a child ignorant of the world. “You’ve found the wrong person.”

Zhao Mian and Wei Zhenfeng exchanged a look.

Zhao Mian: Do you believe him?

Wei Zhenfeng: Hard to say.

Author’s note: 

Love-struck Wan Huameng: He and I had all this passionate love and hate. 

What Mianmian cares about: Why did he survive without an antidote? 

What the Young Prince cares about: Where’s my treasure?