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With a warm hand upon his shoulder, Mo Lin offered a wide smile and a knowing wink towards Gui Li. Turning her head in disdain, she cast a curious glance at Xu Feng. What trickery was afoot? Mo Lin? Mo Yu? These were not their true names. Were they mistaken for others? Mo Yan, with a weary sigh, turned slowly to the guards, shaking his head. "Never did I expect your desertion, friends. We scoured the entire capital and only now have we found you!"

Gui Li's disquiet deepened. She retreated a step, her hand instinctively gripping the dagger concealed beneath her hanfu. Xu Feng, sensing her unease, shook his head subtly, urging caution until they grasped the situation.

"Do you persist in this charade?" Mo Yan pressed. "The trauma has rendered A'Ying mute, unable to utter a single word." Gui Li scrutinized A'Ying closely. "A 'he'?" she thought. Though disguised as a man of exceptional skill, her own experience with such subterfuge allowed her to discern the truth - a woman cloaked in the garb of a man. What game were these two playing?

"What nonsense spews from their lips? Dismiss them!" Mo Yan's command hung heavy in the air. Before a guard could react, however, Xu Feng leaned towards Gui Li, his voice a mere whisper. "Though I know not their purpose, feigning familiarity may grant us entry to the palace." Gui Li remained unconvinced, her shrug accompanied by a clenched fist.

The remaining guards, swords drawn, surged forward. A'Ying, Mu Dan, and Mo Yan retreated with haste, their plans disrupted. These were not easily deceived. Their charade teetered on the brink of collapse, and Gui Li yearned for an audience with Zhao Yun. With a resolute glint in her eye, she drew her own blade, prepared to face the unknown.

Mo Yan, with practiced grace, unfurled his fan, a gentle breeze emanating from its rhythmic movements. Gui Li, her concern for A'Ying foremost, rushed to her side, a sigh escaping her lips. A gentle touch upon A'Ying's shoulder was followed by a thorough examination for injuries. "Are you well, friend? We feared the worst!" Xu Feng mirrored her actions, his vigorous pats landing on Mo Yan's shoulders and chest. Mo Yan attempted to create distance, but Xu Feng held him firmly, his hand thumping against Mo Yan's sternum.

"Gods be praised, you are unharmed! We were filled with grief, believing you perished." Mo Yan crumpled his face like a child on the verge of tears. "A'Ying, the shock rendered her speechless! Mo Yu, Mo Lin!" A'Ying, flustered, darted away from Gui Li, maintaining the charade of the mute boy. Forced laughter and choked sobs erupted from them.

Mo Yan, with deliberate intent, used his fan to obscure his face, drawing their attention. They swiftly prostrated themselves, swords scraping the ground. Heads bowed low, hands clasped in reverence, they addressed him, "Young Lord!" Gui Li whipped her head towards Mo Yan, fists clenching with suspicion. Xu Feng, sensing her agitation, grasped her hand. "Do not act rashly."

Mo Yan erupted in light laughter, patting their shoulders. "Rise, there is no need for such formalities." They slowly rose to their knees, awaiting further instructions. Xu Feng swiftly ushered Gui Li away to a secluded corner while A'Ying, her gaze darting anxiously, remained rooted to the spot. Mo Yan mirrored her unease, wondering what desperate act A'Ying might resort to if his fan hadn't intervened.

"Did you or your esteemed brother orchestrate this?" He shook his head, mirroring her confusion. "Let us play along for now. We can unravel the truth later." Still unconvinced, she hesitantly nodded, returning to their previous position.

"She seeks employment as a palace maid. The others, as I informed you yesterday, desire guard positions." Gui Li's eyes blazed crimson at his statement. Mo Yan, stifling another laugh, turned to A'Ying, whose gaze remained fixed on the entrance, a tapestry of worry etched upon her face. "Mayhap these positions offer them lodging?" The guards bobbed their heads in unison, hands held out obediently.

Yesterday? They anticipated our arrival today and secured individual positions? The only one privy to his intention to visit the palace was Zhao Yun. Did he orchestrate the assassination attempt to expedite my presence here?

Xu Feng joined Mo Yan's laughter, dragging the fuming Gui Li back. "Your temper will betray us. Maintain your composure." She huffed, wrenching her hand free. Eight maids, led by a head palace maid, materialized slowly from the eastern gate, bearing a tray laden with uniforms and shoes. Gui Li and the others watched them approach with silent scrutiny.

The remaining guards resumed their posts while they awaited the maids. A'Ying, disregarding their approach, bolted forward. Mu Dan, yelling in alarm, chased after her. Before Mo Yan could call her back, she had scaled the wall with impressive agility. He sighed, shaking his head. "Forgive his rudeness. He has always been solitary." Xu Feng's eyebrows shot up at her response. "He?" Unlike Xu Feng, Gui Li was determined to extract answers.

With lightning speed, she grabbed him by the collar and held her dagger against his throat. "Don't! Do not mar my flawless, handsome face with that!" She rolled her eyes, pressing the blade closer. Xu Feng attempted to intervene, but she remained resolute. "Who are you truly? How did you know of our intention to infiltrate the Emperor's chambers?" Mo Yan stammered, throat constricted.

"I cannot speak when my beauty is threatened. As your savior, such aggression is unbecoming, especially for a woman of such exquisite grace–"

As he continued his rambling charade, Gui Li pressed the dagger closer, drawing a bead of sweat on his forehead. "Lu Zhao Yun sent me to assist with your palace infiltration! That is all he divulged, I swear!" Xu Feng darted his eyes nervously around them as the maids drew closer.

"Gui Li–"

"My safety hangs in the balance. Since you seem so enamored with your appearance, I will mar it permanently if you do not speak!" Mo Yan heaved a dramatic sigh and covered his face, hiding his playful eyes. "That is all I know! I swear on my ancestors! Why not seek him out yourself and demand answers?" Xu Feng mirrored her sigh, attempting to restrain Gui Li's outburst.

A grave expression settled upon Xu Feng's face as he contemplated the situation.He pursed his lips, his gaze flickering between Mo Yan and the approaching maids. His brow furrowed in thought. "Where is he?"

Recalling their earlier encounter, Mo Yan had no clue where Zhao Yun had been taken after succumbing to the blow. However, confessing his ignorance to the fiery woman before him felt akin to a blatant lie. He sealed his lips tightly, desperately formulating a response.

With a nervous stutter escaping his lips, he forced a laugh and rubbed his hair in a flustered gesture. "Leading the way becomes rather difficult when you confine me to this corner, wouldn't you agree?" Xu Feng stifled a laugh, his touch upon his forehead conveying a sense of defeat.

Gui Li released her hold, her gaze unwavering as she awaited his guidance. The approaching maids drew ever closer.

Just as Mo Yan made a move to escape, Gui Li reacted with lightning speed, the dagger once more pressed against his throat. Xu Feng stepped closer to Mo Yan, shaking his head in exasperation. "I shall accompany them," she declared. "You handle him." With that, she retrieved the dagger and marched off alongside the maids. Xu Feng watched her retreating figure fade into the distance, a sigh escaping his lips as Mo Yan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

"Do you harbor an affection for her? The one who nearly marred my flawless visage? Any lasting scars, perhaps?" He repeatedly patted his face, each touch accompanied by a dramatic sigh. Xu Feng rolled his eyes, turning his back on the theatrics. "All of your assumed identities are rather cunning. Including the 'mute' fellow, A'Ying."

A chuckle escaped Mo Yan's lips as he uncrossed his arms. "So, you saw through the charade." Xu Feng pivoted swiftly, a sigh escaping his lips once more.

"Where is Zhao Yun?" Mo Yan shook his head, employing his fan to create a gentle breeze. "Are you not the young lord here? Surely, you hold a noble position within Ming?"

"Noble in Ming? What else?" Curiosity gnawed at Xu Feng, perplexed by Mo Yan's lack of knowledge. "The fan signifies nobility, a symbol of unwavering assistance until death, a custom prevalent throughout the world, particularly within Ming."

Mo Yan's grip tightened around Xu Feng's throat, his voice trembling with sudden urgency. "To whom does it belong?" He snatched the fan, scrutinizing the inscription etched near the handle. "Mo Qin? Are you truly the son of the emperor's uncle, missing for these past twenty years?" Panic flickered across Mo Yan's face as he released his grasp on Xu Feng's hanfu, taking a step back.  "He has vanished for two decades. Do you possess any knowledge of his whereabouts?"

A'Ying sprinted across the bridge, her breath ragged, casting frantic glances around. Mu Dan trailed behind, struggling to keep pace. After a string of desperate gasps, A'Ying's eyes widened as a lone pigeon fluttered over a central palace building. Tucked away and unarmed, she'd seen me flee the room in a panic, leaving Zhao Yun meditating serenely on the grass.

"Shifu!" both A'Ying and I cried out. The pigeon crashed beside him, a dagger embedded in its leg, its message forever silenced. A'Ying's eyes widened as Zhao Yun retrieved the letter.

Surprised and unsure, I descended slowly, my gaze never leaving A'Ying as she cautiously approached. What brought her here? How had I blacked out? My lower lip tingled with a memory of the earlier events. Did Shifu notice anything? A shiver ran down my spine, and I gripped my hanfu tightly, worry furrowing my brow.

Unfolding the letter, Zhao Yun scanned its contents with meticulous care. "A'Ying," I addressed her gently, "may we speak?"

Ignoring my request, A'Ying rushed to his side and knelt before him, her head bowed low. Hearing the commotion, Zhen Lan emerged, while Jing Yi approached with a bundle of herbs in hand. Relief washed over her face upon seeing Zhao Yun unharmed.

Taking a deep breath, I turned to A'Ying. "Why are you dressed as a man? He needs rest now. Why not talk somewhere else?"

Zhen Lan walked over, sighing upon realizing Zhao Yun's recovery. "I would like to meditate," he announced to all of us. "Please leave me be. Only A'Ying remains."

"Shifu–" I protested weakly.

Zhen Lan shook his head, his hand clasping mine. "Let him rest, Jing Yi. Rong'Er." Jing Yi's gaze flicked to the letter clutched in Zhao Yun's grasp. It bore the seal of Liang and addressed Duke Wei. Was A'Ying the sender?

With a gentle tug, Zhen Lan led us away, leaving me with a churning stomach. Zhao Yun and A'Ying remained alone. A'Ying, her lips pressed into a tight line, drew her sword and held it to her throat. Zhao Yun, startled, rose to his feet and swiftly knocked the blade away. Her breathing hitched, her hands trembling violently.

"Shifu," she rasped. He responded sharply, interrupting her, "it's not worth ending your life."

"Shifu," she responded, her voice firm yet gentle, "believe me, I didn't reveal anything of importance. I only agreed to his offer so he wouldn't deploy another spy. I also yearned for freedom from the palace walls."

He took a deep breath, extending his hand towards her. "I already knew your intentions. I was testing Mu Dan."

A'Ying flinched, her eyes filled with a flicker of guilt as she processed his words. He knew she was a spy, yet he still took her in. And why test Mu Dan? How did exposing A'Ying's mission accomplish that?

"Mu Dan?" she echoed, bewildered.

He nodded, turning towards her. Locking eyes with her, he stated, "I've been aware of Duke Wei's suspicions of me since the Bloom Sessions."  Though A'Ying still grappled with confusion, she knew she overstepped. Spying on her own Shifu gave her no right to question his methods.

"There's only one goal for me - to protect the people," he continued. "As long as you don't betray that trust, I have no qualms."

A small nod escaped her lips, a flicker of respect playing on her mouth. "I know about what transpired in the palace, past and present. You want to clear your mother's name and carve your own legacy."

Again, she nodded, surprised at his insightful deductions. He saw right through her. A wise choice, choosing him as her teacher.  A genuine smile spread across her face as she holstered her sword. "Since you know everything, I needn't hide my true self. I've been confused about one thing. And searching for the one who brought me my favorite birthday cake every year, since childhood."

His eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Bai Ling, Consort Bai Jue, to be precise."

A'Ying blinked, stunned silence filling the space between them. She stepped closer to Zhao Yun, a single word escaping her lips, choked with disbelief. "The demoness…is my mother?"

He sighed, a heavy weight settling upon him. With a nod, he turned towards a figure lurking in the shadows. "Mu Dan, your assistance is needed."

Shame painted Mu Dan's face as she emerged from the shadows, her movements hesitant, her eyes downcast. A'Ying, the world tilting on its axis around her, could only swallow a lump in her throat. She mirrored Mu Dan's posture, her own hands trembling as she stared at the woman revealed by the falling veil.

"What connection does she have to this?" A'Ying finally managed to force out, her voice barely a whisper. Before she could finish her question, a chilling realisation dawned on her. "Wait... do you work for her?"

Mu Dan remained silent, her body language speaking volumes. The tremor in her lowered eyes was a stark confession. A'Ying recoiled, a fresh wave of tremors wracking her own body. With a surge of desperate hope, she grabbed Mu Dan's hand, her voice cracking with urgency.

"Take me to her. Now!"

Zhao Yun sighed, a deep weariness settling upon him. He clasped his hands behind his back, a silent observer to the unfolding drama. Mu Dan, her head hung low, reluctantly led the way out of the palace grounds, disguised in the uniform of a guard.

Hidden in the shadows, I watched them disappear into the throng of the night market. The aroma of steamed buns and the lively calls of merchants filled the air, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within her. I attempted to follow, the burning need for answers fueling my resolve. But a patrol of guards materialized out of the bustling crowd, inadvertently blocking my path. By the time I managed to slip past them, A'Ying and the others had vanished.

As A'Ying, Mu Dan, and the disguised guard navigated the labyrinthine streets, the vibrant lights of the market gave way to the inky blackness of the outskirts. The once bustling atmosphere morphed into an unsettling silence, broken only by the rustle of leaves in the cool night breeze. The abandoned stalls stood like skeletal sentinels, casting long shadows that danced eerily in the moonlight.

At the deserted street's end, near the looming silhouette of the mountains, a solitary figure emerged from the darkness. Dressed in a crimson hanfu with a white veil obscuring her face, she emanated an aura of both elegance and danger. The woman turned, her veiled gaze locking onto the approaching figures.

A single word escaped her lips, her voice trembling yet laced with a hint of trepidation, "A'Ying?" The veil slowly fluttered down, revealing a face etched with both beauty and pain.

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