Lace Glory Universe King GL - Chapter 34

Yunying had been preoccupied with Jing, planning to spare some time today to look for her at Pingkang Ward or that little tavern. But after roll call at the Dali Court, a messenger arrived with a summons from above—she was to proceed immediately to Ziwei Palace for council.

Every time she went to Ziwei Palace, she could not leave until the evening hour of You. Yunying frowned.

“There’s too much work lately, I really can’t get away. Could my deputy attend in my stead?”

The answer was no, with further words of punishment from the sovereign if she dared refuse.

Yunying waved her hand helplessly and followed the herald.

In the Empress’s circular palace, Yunying’s thoughts kept circling back to the case of the Feather Tribe. Of the main topics discussed in the hall, she only half-listened—none had anything to do with the Dali Court. It seemed that a single order to “summon all officials of the third rank and above” wasted countless people’s time.

When she finally left the palace at dusk, she hurried back to the Dali Court to finish the day’s urgent leftovers, even forgetting dinner. And still, by the time she broke free, curfew had already fallen.

Damn it!

Upon returning home, the first thing she asked her maid was whether Jing had come back.

Not yet.

Yunying glanced at the empty street outside, wishing she could rush to Pingkang Ward this very instant to find her.

But if she ran into patrolmen, would she really flash her Dali Court seal as “authority” just to avoid punishment?

Why did Jing vanish precisely when she needed her most?

Since she already had a lead on where the alchemy was taking place, she needed someone to investigate at once. The Dali Court had no manpower to spare—Jing was the most suitable choice.

Distracted, Yunying returned to her room and ate absentmindedly from the meal her maid had brought. She barely noticed the taste.

What she could not tolerate most was this—that “public duty” delayed “public duty.”

Investigating the Feather Tribe was her job. Assisting at Honglu’s martial exercises, attending palace councils—also her job. Yet the entire day was consumed by trifles, the case completely stalled. How could she not be anxious?

When the maid carried off the food box, another name came to Yunying’s mind—Cheng Yaojin.

That big man had no patience for strict attendance rules. He laid down his generalship, cast aside all titles, and wandered the continent free and easy.

After removing his armor, his name in the martial world was tinged with humor. Rumor had it he loved all sorts of disguises—sometimes a cook, sometimes a wealthy merchant, sometimes a magician, even in winter he would mimic foreigners, donning a reindeer cap and waving a Christmas branch…

These stories were exaggerated, but matched the personality she remembered. He often called her “little rascal.” Even with great military merit, he brimmed with hot-blooded vigor, never losing his childlike heart.

Among the solemn ministers, such a man was an oddity—but he and Yunying got along splendidly. He knew many tales of Lady Li, telling them so vividly that Yunying laughed out loud. It was then she began to admire Lady Li and vowed to become a general, defending the realm.

Now, so many helpless constraints…

“Yunying!”

It was Ying. She stood before Yunying, as if she had been watching her for some time.

“What are you thinking about, so lost?”

“Your case, of course.” Yunying pursed her lips, heavy with gloom.

“The fine has already been issued. I told you—I’ll handle the rest myself. Why so downhearted?” Ying’s wings unfurled and folded again.

“Don’t be stubborn. I can tell what you’re thinking—that you’ll bait them, infiltrate Tianque alone, and before Jing or I can back you up, you’ll be turned into medicine.” Yunying had already guessed her plan.

Ying raised her brows.

“I’ve considered that path too, but even a man who has died once, like Dongjun, would fear another trip to the underworld. There’s actually another way.”

“What way?”

“Motive. Isn’t that what you lawkeepers are always talking about?” Her tone held a mocking edge.

Yunying understood. She had thought of this too, earlier in Ziwei Palace. But…

Who wouldn’t want eternal life?

From the Empress herself to commoners of Chang’an, all wished to escape aging and sickness. How could she accuse someone based on motive alone?

Ying saw the struggle in her eyes.

“You know this city. Asking you was the right choice.” Ying’s lips curved. “Well then?”

“At present, motive alone is premature. We need other evidence, otherwise we risk wronging the innocent.” Yunying answered after a pause.

“But in your heart, you already thought of someone, didn’t you?” Ying laughed softly.

Yunying said nothing.

With a sudden beat of her wings, Ying shot out the door. The crash echoed, moonlight pouring in. A single black feather drifted down.

“Dongjun won’t wait for anyone.”

“Ying!” Yunying rushed after her, but too late.

Dongjun’s half-wing spread wide, wind swirling into a vortex. Her broken silhouette burned briefly against the night sky before vanishing.

She never cared for curfew.

Yunying gripped her red-tasseled spear, leapt outside, and gave chase. Curfew she could not break—but in pursuit of justice, there was no restriction.

She ran a li or more in Ying’s direction before stopping to catch her breath. Ying was long gone. But westward from here, she could slip into Pingkang Ward and find Jing.

The teahouse there was empty.

Yunying blew out her taper, shut the wooden door. Turning around, she was suddenly pulled into someone’s arms.

“Who—?!”

“Hush!” The black-clad figure clamped her mouth. A silver-white mask gleamed coldly in the moonlight.

Yunying tore it off with her left hand—

Wasn’t this the elusive Jing?

Joy and reproach mingled in her voice. “Where have you been these past days?”

“Not here. Let’s move.”

Without explanation, Jing took her hand and led her out.

Puzzled, Yunying wondered if this teahouse was no longer safe. Would Jing have to abandon yet another hideout?

They slipped through narrow alleys. Jing’s fingers slid from her palm, only to entwine again, this time interlacing tightly. A strange current jolted up Yunying’s arm at the touch.

Curfewed Chang’an lay in silence, danger hidden in the stillness.

Wind moaned along the ward walls like lament. The two of them, like night-walking cats.

Rounding a corner, the clank of armor echoed ahead. Jing yanked Yunying into a doorway, pressing her against the cold stone wall. Her chest burned where Jing leaned close. Clad in black, Jing looked sharper than ever—taut jawline, trembling lashes, all visible in the dim light.

The patrol’s torches drew near. Yunying held her breath.

Footsteps stopped just a few paces away.

“Strange, I swear I saw a shadow pass.” A gruff voice muttered.

“You’re seeing things. It’s the middle of the night. Hurry, shift change is soon.”

The torches receded. Yunying finally exhaled.

“Let’s go.” Jing whispered, still holding her hand tightly.

At last they halted before a derelict bell tower, its wooden beams rotted, bricks crumbling. Jing found a hidden entrance with practiced ease and motioned her inside.

Moonlight streamed through the ruined dome, scattering broken shadows across the floor.

“Guess what I found?” Jing said smugly. “Xuandu Temple. Tianque, who slaughtered the Feather Tribe, are Xuandu people. You picked a fine spot—hawking black feathers right on their turf. They must have noticed us. That’s why Pingkang Ward can’t be used anymore.”

“How did you find out?” Yunying pressed. “The alchemy sites must be guarded by Daoists. They wouldn’t let you just sneak in.”

“After you mentioned the place, I spent half a day checking medical halls and apothecaries—nothing. These little shops don’t have the manpower or equipment. Think about it: a whole tribe’s worth of feathers, processed batch by batch—how could no one notice? Only a few places in Chang’an could manage that scale.” Jing explained.

Yunying understood, though she was unwilling to believe the suspect.

“And how did you link it to Xuandu?”

Jing pulled out a thin slip of paper. Yunying took it—it was an old yellowed account sheet, torn from a ledger.

Eighth day: Phoenix Feather Ash, 100 catties
Tenth day: Phoenix Feather Ash, 100 catties

…

“I slipped into Honglu Temple’s storehouse. They keep Xuandu’s records there. This one’s from the year of Gengyin—look, suddenly huge purchases of ‘Phoenix Feather Ash.’”

Gengyin year—twenty years ago, the very year the Feather Tribe was massacred. Xuandu, as an imperial Daoist temple, had to report its dealings to Honglu.

“But Phoenix Feather Ash—I’ve heard of it. It’s made from white crane feathers. That proves nothing.” Yunying argued.

“They needed a cover name. Compare earlier and later years—before that, no such item. Afterwards, small amounts, then nothing. And all in Gengyin year. Too much of a coincidence.” Jing countered.

Yunying had no reply. Truly, the coincidence was too great—it was a lead worth pursuing.

“Why don’t you look pleased? Usually when I bring intel, Little Yun would practice her spear three times in excitement.” Jing teased.

Yunying frowned in thought. If Xuandu’s Zhao Huaizhen was involved, then…

“What are you hiding from me? Won’t even tell your partner?” Jing pressed.

“Nothing. I just thought… Zhao Huaizhen of Xuandu has cultivated for years. How could he be part of such cruelty?”

“Daoist or not, don’t judge too soon.” Jing warned.

Yunying nodded.

“So, I did well, right? How will Little Yun reward me?” Jing grinned.

“Let’s wait until we have solid proof from Xuandu first.” Yunying said solemnly.

Unsatisfied, Jing leaned closer, clearly about to kiss her.

“How about rewarding me—”

Yunying dodged, catching her arm instead.

Jing winced, baring her teeth.

“What’s this—you’re hurt.” Yunying’s concern softened her grip. Her fingers brushed dampness on Jing’s sleeve.

“A scratch.” Jing said lightly.

“Let me see.” Yunying insisted.

By moonlight she lifted the sleeve. A fresh cut on Jing’s forearm had been hastily bound, blood still seeping. Yunying frowned, took a clean handkerchief from her own sleeve, and rebandaged it carefully.

Jing stayed quiet, then murmured, “My mother used to say—if someone cares for your wound, it doesn’t hurt as much.”

“You’ve never mentioned your mother.”

“She’s gone. I don’t want to recall the past too much.”

Yunying’s hands paused. “Next time, don’t go alone. Take me with you, alright?”

“…Alright.”

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