The two of them walked quickly, and the place where the disturbance was happening wasn't far. When they were still about a dozen meters away, they heard someone shout loudly: "Damn it, can't you understand what I'm saying?"

Ting Xia frowned, irritated by the crude language. His gaze passed over the dense crowd of heads and settled on a man with a flushed face in the center of the crowd.

The man was dressed as a traveler, a sword on his back, and wore a black mask on his face. Although he reeked of alcohol, his expression revealed a strange excitement as he stared intently at the person opposite him.

Ting Xia followed his gaze and was taken aback.

The person opposite him was dressed in a pearl-white robe, standing tall and graceful like a jade tree. He wore a dark blue mask identical to the one on Chu Jin's face, except his was still intact, while Chu Jin's was only half remaining. He stood slightly sideways in front of a medicinal herb stall, ignoring the person beside him as if he didn't exist. The stall owner had already been frightened away by the scene, so he was picking out herbs by himself, neither speaking nor saying a word, not even sparing a single glance for the drunken traveler behind him.

The traveler, angered by his indifference, sneered, "It's useless even if you don't speak. The mask I wear is the same as yours. According to the local customs of Xufang, this means we are fated to be together. You must come back with me today."

His logic was truly ridiculous. Someone in the crowd couldn't stand it and wanted to step forward to intervene, but was stopped by the person next to them: "Although this man is a drunkard, he is still a retainer under the Prefect of Shi City. Be careful not to provoke him, or he'll hold a grudge."

The person who was stopped showed a hesitant expression: "But are we just going to let him cause trouble at the foot of Heshan Mountain?"

"Sigh, after Heshan Academy closed down, it lost its former glory. It's no wonder people are getting so audacious."

After hearing all this, Ting Xia immediately understood what was going on. He rolled his eyes and scoffed in a low voice, "I wondered what it was all about. It's just a case of lusting after beauty and bullying others with borrowed power, yet he makes it sound so noble."

After he finished speaking, he waited for a long time but got no reaction from Chu Jin. When he looked up in confusion, he found that Chu Jin's expression was grim, the half-real, half-fake smile on his lips completely gone, his gaze fixed tightly on the man in white. Ting Xia had never seen him with such a look in his eyes. The complex emotions within were almost tangible, pressing down on him until he could barely breathe, and he froze on the spot.

The man in white finished picking his herbs and turned around, looking calmly at the person opposite him. "Excuse me, please let me pass."

Although only his eyes were visible, his skin was as warm and clear as a pearl in the dark, seeming to brighten the dim night. One could vaguely glimpse the peerless grace hidden behind the mask.

Seeing this, the wicked thought in the traveler's heart grew stronger. He gave a suggestive smile. "In such a hurry to leave? Our fate has yet to be sealed."

The man in white stared at him intently for a moment, then suddenly said, "Two liang of Pueraria root, two liang of ginger, boiled and consumed, can sober you up. Two liang of Cistanche, one liang each of Morinda root, chrysanthemum, and goji berries, sun-dry these four ingredients, grind them into a powder, take twice a day, and it will improve your eyesight."

At first, the crowd looked confused, but by the end, they couldn't help but quietly stifle their laughter. "He's cursing him in a roundabout way."

"Isn't that the truth! I can see their masks are clearly different, yet he insists they're the same. Isn't this just blatant bullying? His eyes really do need a good treating."

Seeing the surrounding laughter grow louder, the traveler's face turned crimson. He suddenly drew his sword and said, enraged by the humiliation, "You fucking shameless bastard!"

The moment the sword was unsheathed, Chu Jin's pupils contracted imperceptibly, like an unconscious reaction.

The man in white was being pointed at by the bright tip of the sword, yet his expression did not change in the slightest. He merely stated flatly, "Move."

"Refusing a toast only to drink a forfeit..."

The traveler was so angry he laughed, and the longsword in his hand suddenly thrust forward. "Such a silver tongue. I'll cut out your tongue first!"

The last word had yet to leave his lips before it turned into a miserable howl in his mouth. A silver hairpin shot out from the shadows. The sharp tip pierced the traveler's left arm, its momentum undiminished, and in the blink of an eye, it successively penetrated both his cheeks and his right arm, before sinking seven-tenths of its length into a distant tree trunk with a sharp sound.

The longsword fell from his grasp and crashed onto the ground with a clear clang.

The man in white froze for a moment, then calmly put away the pebble in his sleeve that he hadn't had time to throw. He raised his eyes and scanned the crowd but found no trace of the person who had acted.

Everyone was startled by this sudden turn of events. When they came to their senses, the traveler was already howling and rolling on the ground. Blood gushed like springs from the holes in his cheeks and arms, and he was in so much pain he was about to faint.

Amidst the sighs of the crowd, the man in white picked up the sword from the ground. To everyone's surprise, he swung the sword and sliced off the lower half of his mask, revealing a delicate, jade-like jaw and a line of pale lips.

Wearing this half-mask, he walked up to the traveler and looked down at him. "Now, does it still look the same?"

The traveler was kneeling and prostrate on the ground, blood and tears mixing on his face. Because of the two holes in his cheeks, his speech was muffled and indistinct, and he had lost all of his earlier bravado. "No... it doesn't! It was my impulse, I didn't know what's good for me! Save... save me, I'm with the Prefect of Shi City!"

The man in white seemed not to hear him. He threw the sword back onto the ground, a trace of weariness showing on his face. He picked up the herbs he had chosen, swept his gaze lightly over the crowd of onlookers, then walked in a certain direction and said in a low voice, "Excuse me, could you please make way?"

The last person who was asked this was now lying half-dead on the ground. Everyone secretly shivered and uniformly made way for him.

The man in white looked at the path, which was wide enough for two people, paused for a moment with a hint of helplessness, but ultimately said nothing. After he left, the crowd saw that the matter was over and dispersed. As for the heavily injured, groaning traveler, he was sent to the county yamen.

Ting Xia walked behind Chu Jin with an uneasy heart. He felt that coming to Xufang was a mistake. Along the way, he had no idea how many times he had gotten on the Prince Regent's bad side. If he weren't so lucky, his head would have been chopped off a dozen times over.

At this thought, he hated Li Sheng so much that his teeth itched—that old scoundrel was truly vicious. Every single thing he did was aimed at Chu Jin, purely using those old, buried matters to disgust people.

He didn't know if Chu Jin had been disgusted before, but this last incident had likely made him genuinely angry.

For all these years, the Prince Regent had been hiding his capabilities and concealing his edge, always remaining impassive. Even when killing, he would borrow sharp blades like them. Since the founding of Great Qin, Ting Xia had never seen him act personally.

But just now, he had seen it clearly. Chu Jin had used at least sixty percent of his strength in that hairpin throw. Forget human bone, it was enough to crack stone.

As Ting Xia thought about this, he repeatedly stole glances at him, only to be caught red-handed by the latter. Chu Jin turned his head, looking over with a half-smile. "Is there a flower on my face?"

Ting Xia shook his head repeatedly. "No, no."

He didn't dare to ask in detail what had just happened. His intuition told him that if he really voiced the question, he would likely lose his life.

Chu Jin gazed at the deep night in the distance. After a long moment, he said unexpectedly, "That hairpin just now, did it miss the mark?"

His question was strange, but Ting Xia immediately understood. "The man is still breathing. He was sent to the county yamen."

"It's so late, no need for the county yamen to go to such trouble." Chu Jin's tone was casual. "You go take care of it."

Ting Xia understood that he had a job to do and agreed excitedly. Then he hesitated for a moment and asked, "Then where are you going?"

Before hearing this question, Chu Jin hadn't thought about where to go. Xufang City wasn't large and lacked the prosperity of Great Qin's capital, Fengling. Moreover, having lived here for five years, he was as familiar with the shops here as with his own treasures, which made him rather uninterested.

He moved his lips. "I..."

Before he could finish, he suddenly heard a childish voice from in front of him. "Mom, I've seen that mask!"

A little girl wearing a rabbit mask pointed at Chu Jin, speaking excitedly to the woman beside her. The woman quickly pulled her hand down and looked at Chu Jin apologetically. "Young Master, I'm sorry. My daughter is just a child, please don't take it to heart."

Chu Jin shook his head to show it was no matter, but then he heard the little girl mutter in a low voice, "But it's obviously the same! Even the broken part is the same..."

His fingers, which were tracing the broken edge of his mask, paused, and he fell into silence.

It was rare for Ting Xia to see Chu Jin flustered, and he almost couldn't keep a straight face. He thought back to Chu Jin's calm composure when he had sliced his own mask in half—this was a blatant slap in the face. Who would have thought that the man in white, with a casual swing of his sword, would end up with an identical mask, not different by a single hair's breadth.

Just as he was gloating, he heard Chu Jin say, "I'm going back to the inn."

"Also, if you dawdle any longer," he glanced over lightly, making Ting Xia freeze, "and end up being late, don't bother coming back."

Ting Xia shuddered and ran off impatiently.

Only after he had run out of sight did Chu Jin turn and walk in the exact opposite direction. The inn was in the center of Xufang City, but this road led out of the city; it was not the way to the inn at all.

In the distance, Heshan Mountain was shrouded in dark clouds, its gloomy color seeming to merge with the night. There seemed to be few houses there, only a few scattered lamps twinkling with faint light.

Chu Jin walked against the flow of the crowd, slowly reaching the end of the road. This was already the foot of Heshan Mountain. All around was silent, without a human sound. Surrounded by mountains and lush forests, the lights of countless homes were left behind him, leaving only the color of ink between heaven and earth.

In this profound silence, he faced the moonlight and ascended the stone steps.

There were thirty-three long steps, the end of which reached deep into the quiet forest. The branches and leaves there were so dense that they completely blocked the moonlight, making the light dim. The slightest carelessness could lead to a fall. When Chu Jin first arrived back then, he had suffered quite a bit on these stone steps, secretly complaining thousands of times, wishing he could light a few lamps beside them.

In the end, no lamps were installed. Instead, he got used to it first, and afterward, he wouldn't fall again even if he walked with his eyes closed.

Chu Jin pushed aside the branches blocking the path on both sides, silently counting the steps in his mind, just as he had done thousands of times before.

After so many years, the academy's stone steps had never been repaired. The surfaces were worn smooth and the steps were close together, so much so that when he stepped on them, he felt a dazed sense of being young again.

Thirty-three steps weren't particularly long, but when he set foot on the last one, he stopped for no reason.

According to his old memories, pushing aside this thicket of branches and leaves would reveal the main gate of Heshan Academy, as well as the memories of being a Hostage Prince that he had deliberately avoided and deceived himself about all these years.

These dark leaves obscured his vision, and it was as if they obscured his heart as well. Chu Jin stood expressionlessly for a moment, then suddenly turned and walked back the way he came.

It was now the Shangyuan Festival, more than ten days after New Year's Eve. The Everlasting Lamp in front of Heshan Academy should have been extinguished long ago.

He remembered something else and gave a self-deprecating smile.

Right, the academy had closed long ago. For who knows how many years, probably no one had lit an Everlasting Lamp.

Chu Jin retreated two steps, then suddenly heard a faint sound behind him.

Immediately after, he felt his surroundings brighten. Orange firelight shone through the gaps in the branches and leaves, forcefully pushing back the cold night and illuminating the path he had come from.

Chu Jin's breath caught. He stood stunned for a long moment before turning his head.

He finally reached out and pushed aside that thicket of mental barriers.

And then he saw, between heaven and earth, someone in a white robe lighting an Everlasting Lamp.

The candlelight cast a faint red glow on his face and brightened his eyes, washing away the weariness between his brows. It had snowed on Heshan Mountain a few days ago, and the snow had not yet melted. He wore a plain white cloak and was squatting in the vast white snow, his hands gently cupped around the dancing flame at the wick, as if to protect it from being blown out by the wind. This small task was worthy of his focused and earnest attention.

Hearing the sound behind him, the person froze for a moment, then turned to look.

Chu Jin met his gaze without a word, his eyes traveling from the crown of his black hair to the mask that was identical to his own, and then to his tightly pressed lips.

Heaven and earth were silent, with only the sound of the whistling wind remaining.

But the lake of his heart, which had been calm for so many years, was suddenly stirred as if by a pebble, sending ripples across its surface that, from this moment on, would be difficult to quell.