Hearts Aligned - Chapter 1.2

In the glow of the lantern, Miss Hua could finally see the purple-clad figure clearly as they turned toward her. Their slender brows arched gracefully over piercing eyes, their pale cheeks marked by faint, scattered traces of blood. The figure exuded a sharp, chilling presence, their aura as unyielding as the blade in their hand.

Her black hair was coiled into an elegant bun, adorned with silver leaf tassels that swayed gently with her movements.

Miss Hua’s voice trembled as realization dawned. “You… you are Xiliu?”

“Miss Hua, doesn’t she look the part?” Jingzhe, the boy who had entered with the lantern, chuckled lightly as he placed it on the ground. Without hesitation, he began rummaging through the corpses for valuables or clues.

Miss Hua clung to the edge of the bed, her wary gaze fixed on the purple-clad woman. The woman methodically wiped the blood from her blade on the clothing of a nearby corpse. “I… I just didn’t expect Xiliu to be a woman,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

And such a young woman at that.

The figure before her couldn’t have been older than seventeen or eighteen, yet the name Xiliu Blade was already legendary, whispered with awe and fear across the land.

“Who says Xiliu has to be a man?” Jingzhe remarked, his tone teasing. He laughed again, this time more peculiarly. “Man or woman, does it matter? With her holding the Xiliu Blade, do you doubt she can protect your life?”

Xiliu remained silent. Her blade flashed once more as she deftly flipped the edge to pry a waist token from one of the corpses. The token glinted faintly in the dim light, bearing three ominous characters: “Zhi Jian Si” (Office of Inspection and Surveillance).

Miss Hua’s face turned ashen the moment she recognized the inscription. Trembling, she stumbled barefoot from the bed and fell to her knees before the purple-clad woman. “Master Xiliu, please escort me to the capital!” she pleaded.

Xiliu continued cleaning her blade with meticulous care. Only after she slid it back into its sheath did she speak, her voice calm and cold. “You’re afraid these three words will scare me off.”

Zhi Jian Si—an imperial agency, feared for its absolute authority to monitor, arrest, and protect the emperor’s domain.
If the Eastern Depot, under the emperor’s favored eunuch Cao Fengsheng, was at its peak of influence, the Zhi Jian Si was the only faction capable of standing as its equal.

“Who wouldn’t fear crossing those wolves?” Miss Hua sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “But Master Xiliu, my father was just murdered. I have no family left in the south. The only path left for me is to enter the palace. I beg you—there is no one else I can turn to.”

“Do you know why the Zhi Jian Si is after you?” Xiliu’s sharp gaze bore into her, unwavering.

“I don’t know,” Miss Hua stammered, shaking her head vehemently.

“They barged in and demanded something.”

“What did they want?” Xiliu pressed.

“Something called the Jade Toad.” Miss Hua lifted her tear-streaked face, desperation shining in her eyes. “Master Xiliu, I don’t know what the Jade Toad is, nor why they want it. I beg you, if you’re willing to escort me to the capital, I will give you all my savings as payment.”

Her voice broke as she knelt in a pool of blood, her fragile frame trembling. Her plea, filled with raw desperation, echoed faintly in the quiet room.

Xiliu said nothing at first, her calm expression unreadable as she studied Miss Hua’s tearful face. Moments stretched in silence before she finally spoke, her tone as steady as steel. “It’s a deal.”

“Xiliu,” Jingzhe’s voice rang out, breaking the stillness. He straightened, having completed his search of the corpses, and stepped forward with a faint smirk.

If the Eastern Depot, led by the emperor’s favored eunuch Cao Fengsheng, was at the peak of its power, then the only entity capable of rivaling it was the Zhi Jian Si.

“Who wouldn’t fear crossing those wolves?” Miss Hua sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “But Master Xiliu, my father has been murdered, and I am alone in Nanzhou with no family to rely on. The only path left for me is to enter the palace—I have no other choice.”

“You don’t know why the Zhi Jian Si wants to kill you?” Xiliu asked, her sharp gaze fixed on Miss Hua.

“I don’t know,” Miss Hua replied, shaking her head vigorously. “When they came, they demanded something.”

“What did they want?”

“The Jade Toad.”

Miss Hua lifted her tear-streaked face, her voice trembling with desperation. “Master Xiliu, I have no idea what the Jade Toad is, nor why they want to harm me. I beg you—if you are willing to escort me to the capital, I will give you all of my savings as payment.”

Her voice cracked as she knelt in a pool of blood, her fragile frame trembling. Her face was a picture of grief, and her words carried a raw, desperate plea.

Xiliu was silent for a long moment, her calm expression betraying no emotion as she studied Miss Hua’s tear-filled eyes.

Finally, she spoke in a low, steady voice. “It’s a deal.”

“Xiliu!” Jingzhe exclaimed in surprise. He had been rummaging through the corpses for valuables and froze when he heard Xiliu agree. Straightening up, he frowned and called out to her, his tone questioning.

Xiliu didn’t respond. She wiped her face with a cloth, then turned to Miss Hua. “This place isn’t safe. Gather your things quickly.”

Miss Hua sniffled and nodded, wiping at her tears with trembling hands. She watched as Xiliu scanned the room before walking past her toward the foot of the bed. Crouching down, Xiliu reached into the shadows and stood again, now holding a tabby cat in her arms.

A few days earlier, when Miss Hua had finally tracked down Xiliu’s residence, she had seen only Jingzhe and this cat—no sign of Xiliu herself. It was only tonight, amidst blood and chaos, that Miss Hua finally met the legendary figure face-to-face.

Though several people had been killed on the upper floor of the inn, the disturbance barely disrupted the quiet atmosphere. It was late—nearing the hour of the tiger (just before dawn)—and most guests remained sound asleep. Downstairs, the innkeeper stifled a yawn as he placed a bowl of freshly cooked meat and a steaming bowl of yangchun noodles on a tray. Without sparing the dishes another glance, he shuffled back to the counter, slumping behind it to steal a quick nap.

Jingzhe descended the stairs to find the tabby cat lazily flicking its tail as it perched on the table, eating from the bowl of cooked meat. Beside it, the young woman in purple sat quietly, eating her noodles with deliberate calm.

“What about mine?” Jingzhe pouted, gesturing at them.

Neither the cat nor the woman spared him a glance. Frustrated, he stomped over to the counter and delivered a sharp kick to the snoring innkeeper, jolting him awake. “Get me a bowl of noodles. Now!” he barked.

The innkeeper, startled and bleary-eyed, glared briefly at the boy, but Jingzhe’s sharp, unyielding gaze left no room for protest. Swallowing his anger, the man stumbled toward the kitchen, muttering under his breath.

Outside, the rain continued its steady drip-drop, a muted backdrop to the quiet tension within the inn.

Jingzhe plopped onto a bench, snatched a piece of meat from the cat’s bowl, and popped it into his mouth. Chewing, he shot a glance at the woman. “Xiliu, don’t tell me you actually mean to save her.”

Xiliu didn’t look up. She blew lightly on the edge of her bowl and sipped the broth, her movements calm and deliberate.

“Our orders,” Jingzhe pressed, “were to take Hua Ruodan to Yong County, where our people would hide her. You’re supposed to impersonate her and head to Yanjing. So what were you doing back there?”

Despite the youthful softness of his features, Jingzhe’s tone carried a maturity beyond his years, laced with a grim sharpness.

“Why do you think the Zhi Jian Si showed up?” Xiliu finally replied, her voice calm, almost detached.

Jingzhe froze, the mention of the Zhi Jian Si recalling the effort he’d spent earlier dealing with their corpses. He fell silent for a moment before slapping his forehead. “Of course! If they’re already here, it means Hua Ruodan’s likeness has reached Yanjing. With her face known, how are you supposed to impersonate her?”

“To find the Jade Toad, there’s only one path left—escort her to the capital,” Xiliu said simply, continuing to eat her noodles as if discussing a mundane task.

Jingzhe had no rebuttal. The room fell silent, save for the rain outside. The dim lantern light cast a soft glow over the young woman. She looked painfully thin, the dark shadows under her eyes betraying exhaustion. A faint streak of blood, not yet wiped away, lingered near her right ear, making her pale face appear even starker.

“How many people have you killed in the past two days?” Jingzhe asked suddenly, his voice low.

Xiliu didn’t pause. “You know my memory’s bad,” she replied flatly.

“Right. You’re insane,” Jingzhe shot back, nodding as if stating an indisputable fact. “This is the punishment the Mountain Lord gave you. Next time, will you still refuse to kill children?”
“I won’t kill them,” Xiliu replied, her voice unwavering, without a moment’s hesitation.

“Xiliu.” Jingzhe’s frustration rose, his voice sharp with exasperation. He opened his mouth to argue but stopped short, his gaze dropping to the slender blade at her waist. Its delicate form seemed almost incongruous with the weight of her presence. “The blade’s name is your name. If you die, another Xiliu will take your place.”

It wasn’t a warning—it was a reminder.

They weren’t the kind of people who could afford choices. To defy their orders meant certain death.

Footsteps echoed as the innkeeper returned, placing a steaming bowl of noodles on the table. The rising mist blurred the air, and Xiliu lifted her gaze, her cold, steady eyes betraying no emotion.

“Are you eating or not?” she asked, her tone as calm as ever.

“If not, I’ll take it.”