It is not at all something terrible that must be endured for a greater good’s sake.

There are many things that Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue do not talk about.

Xue Ling should rightly leave it be. But: Sui da-ge had brought the magistrate here so he wouldn't be hurt, and he seems prone to injuring himself more than anything.

He feels Sui Zhou's smile unlace over his pulse, languid and nude in its amusement. "You've had the morning," he answers, unmoved. "The day won't keep for you."

Tang Fan returns early, only to arrive late.

Sui Zhou's WeChat starts firing off around midday, which does at least immediately pare down the pool of potential suspects.

"Tang Fan," she starts carefully.

Tang Fan has no such concern. "Sui Zhou," is her counter. She dumps their bag at her feet, where its gaped mouth is swiftly fed her belt and chopsticks. "Your poor delicate Qing'er," she complains. "I will find a man and his wife to show me the pity here that you won't."

Surely in a world so vast there lie yet stones unturned— slippery things smalled for his spindling fingers to unearth.

With their house's liveliness lapsed to quiet, and the looming summer rain hanging heavy in the air, Tang Fan seizes upon a temptingly rare proposition of opportunity.

Given such a tender gift, how can Seimei not tease him?