Wan Huameng’s rambling, incoherent confession drained the last vestiges of life from him. He stood at the edge of the birdcage, slowly crouching down to resume the position Zhao Mian had found him in—arms wrapped around his knees, back against the gilded bars, head buried in his lap.

“So tired, so sleepy,” Wan Huameng’s eyelids felt too heavy to open. He hugged himself tightly, his long hair corroded into two sections where it touched the poisonous golden threads, strands of hair falling around his feet. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

Wei Zhenfeng frowned; Zhao Mian could feel his impatience.

Zhao Mian understood. After all, they had listened to Wan Huameng for a long time, and almost everything they heard was what they had already guessed, with very little useful information.

Wan Huameng had been rambling on, but as soon as the Western Xia treasures were mentioned, he became “so tired, so sleepy.” Was he truly ignorant, or was he deliberately evading the question?

Wan Huameng was indeed a lunatic, but he was no fool. Even if he were, with Lu Wang behind him, was not someone to be underestimated.

Zhao Mian and Rong Tang had previously discussed the location where Gu Ruzhang might have hidden the treasures. Assuming Gu Ruzhang knew Western Xia was doomed, where would he leave clues, or to whom would he entrust the information?

Western Xia territory and the Western Xia people were undoubtedly the most obvious answers, but also the most vulnerable targets for Beiyuan. Dongling, on the other hand, was relatively safer. Beiyuan would have reservations about searching for people or items within Dongling. Just look at the troubles he and Wei Zhenfeng had stirred in their own investigations within Dongling.

If there was one place in Dongling that Gu Ruzhang knew best, it would naturally be Mount Nangong, which he frequently visited.

Wan Huameng had just said that the bamboo forest was built by him for Gu Ruzhang. 

Zhao Mian recalled everything about the bamboo forest: it was quiet and desolate, indeed matching the integrity and noble impression Gu Ruzhang had given him, except for one detail.

“One last question,” Zhao Mian asked before Wan Huameng drifted into sleep. “Was the hot spring in the bamboo forest also built by you for him?”

Upon hearing this, Wei Zhenfeng glanced at Zhao Mian.

“I like using other people’s faces. But he said,” Wan Huameng whispered, as if muttering in a dream, “he said he wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t my own face…”

So that was it. No wonder the hot spring could dispel disguises. According to Wan Huameng, although the hot spring was built by him, it also incorporated Gu Ruzhang’s intentions.

Wan Huameng’s voice grew fainter and fainter. After speaking the last word, he closed his eyes and would not speak again, regardless of what others said.

Fu An, who had been waiting patiently on the side, spoke at the opportune moment: “Are the two of you sirs finished asking? Then please leave.”

As they departed, rows of torches on the walls extinguished, leaving Wan Huameng to the endless darkness. 

Perhaps only then could he finally find some semblance of peaceful sleep.

Zhao Mian intended to return to the bamboo forest for a thorough investigation, but unfortunately, he hadn’t brought enough people today, and with Wei Zhenfeng accompanying him, he had no choice but to temporarily return to the Nanjing Embassy.

In the carriage, Wei Zhenfeng asked him: “If this lead from Wan Huameng is a dead end, what do you plan to do next?”

Zhao Mian said indifferently: “Look for other clues.”

“If you intend to use Gu Ruzhang’s Chief Minister’s Seal to draw out the snakes,” Wei Zhenfeng said, “I must warn you, those people from the Imperial City Division have some brains.”

Zhao Mian replied: “It’s precisely because they have brains that I want them.” 

Sometimes, intelligent people are much easier to deal with than fools; fools are the real trouble, as they don’t follow patterns and act illogically. 

Moreover, this lead from Wan Huameng might not be completely severed.

Zhao Mian lay low for two days, and there was no particular movement from Wei Zhenfeng’s side either. In the dead of the third night, he took Bai Yu, Shen Buqi, and a group of skilled operatives to Mount Nangong once again.

The guards of Mount Nangong assumed the Crown Prince of Nanjing had come to see Wan Huameng and were about to lead him to the underground palace. Zhao Mian said: “You may withdraw. There’s no need to attend to us.”

This was originally the most secretive place in the capital of Dongling, the residence of an Imperial Advisor, yet now a foreigner with an entourage could move freely as if strolling in their own backyard. How ironic. 

If Nanjing were to ever fall into such a state, he probably wouldn’t have the face to live on.

Zhao Mian arrived at Yanyue Residence, activating the secret passage leading to the bamboo forest. The familiar scene reappeared before him. More than half a month had passed, and Zhao Mian had been avoiding recalling the events of that day. State affairs were busy, and he had no leisure to reminisce.

But now, back at the scene, hearing the sound of the hot spring water, he couldn’t control some inexplicable images flashing through his mind… He ordered himself to stop thinking, while also feeling fortunate that after tonight, this spring, which had witnessed his two humiliations, would completely disappear from the world.

“Light more lamps,” Zhao Mian commanded. “Drain the water and find the spring eye.”

Everyone rolled up their sleeves, ready to start working. A figure not part of their group suddenly appeared in the night. Just seeing that familiar silhouette, Zhao Mian felt his heart clench.

“Good evening, Your Highness.” Wei Zhenfeng yawned, casually draped in an outer robe. “Not sleeping late at night, what bad deeds are you up to again?”

Zhao Mian: “…”

Wei Zhenfeng had once again thought of the same thing as him.

Despite being from two different countries, Wei Zhenfeng’s way of thinking was remarkably similar to his. If he didn’t know it was impossible, he would even suspect that Wei Zhenfeng was mistakenly swapped with his own brother when they were young, and that Wei Zhenfeng was actually his biological younger brother.

“Why is the Young Prince here?” Zhou Huairang was startled. He looked at the hoe on Wei Zhenfeng’s shoulder, then at the bucket in his hand. “And he’s carrying a bucket and a hoe?”

Facing such a foolish question, Zhao Mian would usually patiently explain, given that Zhou Huairang was his childhood friend. But Wei Zhenfeng had no such patience; he opted to talk nonsense so the other person would shut up.

Wei Zhenfeng casually “oh-ed” and then said seriously, “I came to plant vegetables here.”

Zhou Huairang: “Huh?”

Zhao Mian was displeased that his subordinate was being mocked like this, and said coldly, “You’ve got tools strapped on, and you still have the nerve to tease me?”

Wei Zhenfeng chuckled: “Then what should I say? Do you want to search together?”

“Why wouldn’t I use a strong laborer if I have one?” Zhao Mian said. “You’d better work hard for me.”

Zhao Mian brought enough personnel and tools. With everyone working together, the bottom of the hot spring pool, paved with jade bricks, was revealed before dawn, and the spring eye was right in the center of the pool floor.

Zhao Mian curiously stared at the spring eye gurgling water and asked, “What do you think is in this hot spring water?”

Wei Zhenfeng paused, then slightly averted his gaze, the two teardrop moles under his eyes seeming to redden a bit. But even at this moment, the Young Prince couldn’t resist making a snide remark: “You’re so lustful, Zhao Mian. I feel like it’s your stuff.”

Zhao Mian was also stunned: “I’m lustful?” He quickly realized what Wei Zhenfeng was implying, his face turning cold. “I mean what kind of medicinal herbs were soaked in there, why could it remove your disguise? Wei Zhenfeng, what are you thinking?”

“I’m curious too. My disguise back then was very difficult to remove.” When it came to serious matters, Wei Zhenfeng maintained a composed expression. “Wan Huameng does have some real skills; it would be a pity if he truly died. It would be great if he could write down all his lifelong knowledge into a book before his death for my Beiyuan Imperial Medical Institute to study.”

Bai Yu said: “If Your Highness and the Young Prince wish to know, your subordinate can scoop some back and study it thoroughly.”

Wei Zhenfeng and Zhao Mian simultaneously extended their hands, their movements surprisingly synchronized: “No need.”

Bai Yu was extremely confused by their reactions. She thought for a moment, then comforted these two “younger brothers,” who were nearly ten years younger than her, with a benevolent expression: “This spring water is flowing, so even if there was something in it back then, it’s definitely gone now.”

Wei Zhenfeng said slowly: “That may be true…”

Zhao Mian calmly interrupted Wei Zhenfeng: “Tonight, we are not here for the spring water. Let’s not waste time. Continue digging.”

“Your Highness, wait a moment.” Zhou Huairang squatted by the pool edge and poked his head out. “Do you see the patterns on these jade bricks? Don’t they resemble a type of mechanism?”

“Mechanism?”

Zhao Mian immediately leaned closer, standing in Zhou Huairang’s position to carefully observe the jade bricks at the bottom of the pool. Wei Zhenfeng also walked over, watched for a moment behind Zhao Mian, and said, “Now that you mention it, it does seem to be something. However, are you sure this isn’t a coincidence?”

Zhou Huairang said: “I once saw similar bronze mechanisms in an ancient text. If it’s a coincidence, it’s too much of a coincidence.”

Given Zhou Huairang’s previous performance, Wei Zhenfeng still harbored a two-tenths doubt about his words: “Really? Is that true?”

“Didn’t you hear Zhou Huairang say it? It’s recorded in ancient texts, he’s seen it,” Zhao Mian’s faint voice carried a subtle, almost imperceptible hint of satisfaction and pride. “Read more books when you have nothing to do, Young Prince.”

Wei Zhenfeng mimicked Zhao Mian’s tone in a sarcastic manner: “‘Didn’t you hear Zhou Huairang say it? It’s recorded in ancient texts’—Ah, yes, yes, your ‘Xiao Rang’ is the smartest.”

Zhao Mian looked at Wei Zhenfeng as if he were an idiot: “What’s wrong with you?”

Zhou Huairang had long forgotten when His Highness last praised him, and at this moment, he couldn’t help but feel a little flattered, scratching his head even though it didn’t itch: “Heh, how did the Young Prince know that His Highness used to call me ‘Xiao Rang’ when I was young?”

Wei Zhenfeng raised an eyebrow. There was such a thing? The Crown Prince was someone who would call people by their nicknames? Impossible. When he called him, it was always “Wei Zhenfeng,” never ambiguous.

Zhao Mian instructed: “First, copy down the patterns on the jade bricks, then see if there are any other peculiarities at the bottom of the pool.”

Afterward, everyone practically dug three feet deep into the hot spring but found nothing new. However, the trip’s harvest was still significant. If the patterns at the bottom of the hot spring pool truly had special meaning, it was most likely a clue left by Gu Ruzhang regarding the Western Xia treasures.

However, Wan Huameng might not know.

As they left the bamboo forest, Wei Zhenfeng looked back at the empty hot spring pool and couldn’t help but sigh: “If Wan Huameng knew that Gu Ruzhang ultimately handed over the thing he valued most to him, would he cry or laugh, or both?”

“Whether he cries or laughs, Wan Huameng shouldn’t show it in front of outsiders like us,” Zhao Mian said disdainfully. “As an Imperial Advisor, Wan Huameng’s ability to control his emotions is too poor; he’s completely disgraced Dongling.”

“What’s the big deal?” Wei Zhenfeng said indifferently. “Cry if you want to cry, laugh if you want to laugh. Isn’t that just how people are?”

Zhao Mian was stunned for a moment, then asked, “Have you cried since you grew up?”

“Yes, I have,” Wei Zhenfeng said unreservedly. “I cried a lot the year before last, and in front of many people too.”

This was something Zhao Mian hadn’t expected. Wei Zhenfeng was his age, taller than him, and must have experienced more life and death partings than him, yet he actually did something as embarrassing as openly weeping in front of others.

Zhao Mian asked, “Why did you cry?”

Wei Zhenfeng didn’t answer directly, only saying, “Because of this and that reason, you know. Just as you said, being delicate or not has nothing to do with being male or female. By the same logic, there’s nothing shameful about a man crying.”

Zhao Mian still didn’t quite believe him: “You really cried in front of many people?”

Wei Zhenfeng smiled: “Really. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Yun Yong and Hua Ju.”

“You let them see you cry?” Zhao Mian asked incredulously. “What about your authority then? Don’t you care about it anymore?”

Wei Zhenfeng asked strangely: “What does that have to do with my authority? If a person is truly capable, others will still respect and fear him even if he cries ten or eight times. If he’s only superficially impressive, even if he maintains a cold face all day, he’s still just a paper tiger.”

Zhao Mian was stunned for a long time before he softly said, “…Is that so?”

Seeing Zhao Mian’s thoughtful expression, Wei Zhenfeng took the opportunity to persuade him: “So, if you want to cry seven days from now, just cry directly. I definitely won’t laugh at you—I saw how hard you were holding it in last time.”

His eyes were already so moist, yet he bit his lip, stubbornly refusing to let the tears fall. It must have been quite difficult.

Zhao Mian was immersed in his own thoughts and didn’t immediately react: “Seven days from now?”

“Mm,” Wei Zhenfeng said in a casual tone, “Isn’t it the fifteenth in seven days?”

Zhao Mian frowned: “How do you remember so clearly? Are you counting with your fingers?”

Wei Zhenfeng seemed choked for a moment: “I’m not, stop slandering me.”