Xiao Chiye seized Shen Zechuan’s lips and tongue with malicious intensity, kissing him until Shen Zechuan’s thoughts scattered and he could no longer draw breath. The fingers clutching at Xiao Chiye gradually lost their strength as time dragged on.
Unable to breathe, Shen Zechuan began to feel faint. In this narrow, dim space of shifting light and shadow, he fell into Xiao Chiye’s net. As the suffocating sensation intensified, it felt as though he were sinking deeper and deeper into drowning waters. Xiao Chiye locked him in with both arms, suppressing his struggle, turning himself into Shen Zechuan’s only support in that moment.
Yu Xiaozai walked over to the bedside. His shoes swayed just beside the two of them.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded outside. Chen Yang said, “The Censor is here! Please follow me, sir—the documents recovered from the study must be personally reviewed by you.”
Yu Xiaozai tucked the documents under his arm and followed, asking, “Where is Lord Zhenfu?”
Chen Yang dared not look around inside the room and led Yu Xiaozai out, closing the door as he said, “Lord Zhenfu was drinking tea in the duty quarters earlier. He should be on his way here now.”
Yu Xiaozai said, “Wasn’t he already here earlier?”
“It’s freezing cold,” Chen Yang replied. “He warmed himself with a cup of tea first—keeps the spirits up…”
Their voices faded as they walked farther away. Only then did Xiao Chiye finally ease away from Shen Zechuan’s lips.
Shen Zechuan lay beneath him, drawing breath again. His eyes, nearly unfocused, drooped slightly as his throat swallowed with the rise and fall of his chest. His lips were flushed and wet from the kissing—this bout had nearly cost him his life.
Xiao Chiye was also breathing heavily.
One of Shen Zechuan’s hands reached out from beneath the bed; he wanted to get out. “You—”
Xiao Chiye caught his wrist, pressed his nose against him, and kissed him again.
Last time Shen Zechuan had said Xiao Chiye kissed like a starving wolf. He had clearly taken that to heart—this time he kissed with deliberate slowness, savoring every movement, blocking Shen Zechuan’s broken sounds, melting them between teeth and tongue, then swallowing them whole.
When Yu Xiaozai saw Shen Zechuan again, nearly half an hour had passed. He stepped forward to salute, then turned pale in alarm. “My lord, this is—”
“I was scalded,” Shen Zechuan said expressionlessly.
The Brocade Guards were still rummaging through the vast shelves of books. Ge Qingqing came over and shook her head at Shen Zechuan.
They had come merely to go through the motions. Seeing the time was about right, Shen Zechuan said to Yu Xiaozai, “This place has been more or less searched. Why don’t you and I return to the duty compound to report to Lord Fu?”
Yu Xiaozai agreed, glanced around once more, and said, “The Governor is sitting outside to avoid suspicion. Before leaving, we should inform him.”
Shen Zechuan pressed his tongue against the corner of his lips, nodded silently in assent.
When they went out, Xiao Chiye was indeed still sitting by the lake, wrapped in his cloak and fishing, as though he had been there all day and gone nowhere else.
“It’s getting late,” Xiao Chiye said, legs propped up as he held the rod, unclear whether he had caught anything. “Why don’t you stay for a meal before leaving, gentlemen?”
Yu Xiaozai declined. “We’ve already imposed all day—how dare we delay any longer. Next time, I’ll host and invite both of you for a drink.”
“Drinking is easy enough,” Xiao Chiye said. With a flick of his rod, he hauled a small silver crucian carp out of the water. Laughing loudly, he tossed it into the fish basket, set the rod aside, and carried the basket over. Leaning slightly as he emerged from the trees, he handed it to Yu Xiaozai. “I owe Lord Yu for today’s consideration. These few fish are a small token of thanks.”
Snow mist had begun to fall. Yu Xiaozai was busy looking down at the basket and didn’t notice the two of them.
Shen Zechuan looked at Xiao Chiye. Xiao Chiye casually brushed his right ear with his thumb. Shen Zechuan immediately turned his gaze away.
Yu Xiaozai was flustered by the favor. “This really isn’t appropriate—”
“What,” Xiao Chiye said, patting him on the shoulder, “does the Censorate even count a few fish as a bribe?”
“That’s not what I meant—” Yu Xiaozai hurried to explain.
“Come by often in the future.” Xiao Chiye stepped aside. “Chen Yang, see him off.”
Yu Xiaozai left with thanks he scarcely understood.
Shen Zechuan was just about to get into the carriage when he suddenly touched his right earlobe. It had been kneaded raw by that bastard—burning, irritating to the point of distraction.
Fu Linye was at the Imperial Guard duty compound, sitting cross-legged with Meng Rui waiting beside him. Seeing Fu Linye drink cup after cup of tea without budging, Meng Rui knew he wouldn’t leave today without digging something up.
Meng Rui felt annoyed inside, but showed nothing. He continued serving good tea, smiling as he said, “Lord Fu, you’ve already reviewed the Imperial Guard account books. The gentlemen from the Ministry of Revenue have checked them as well. If there’s anything else you wish to investigate, just tell me.”
Fu Linye replied calmly, “Account books must be checked over and over with care. Who knows where an error might slip through? There’s no need to rush. Let’s look again.”
Wei Huaixing had claimed that Xiao Chiye’s recent repairs to the compound and expansion of the drill grounds couldn’t be explained clearly, but in truth the Imperial Guard accounts recorded everything plainly. Fu Linye knew Xiao Chiye was difficult to deal with, but he had to stir something out of clear water—otherwise he couldn’t answer to Wei Huaixing. Besides, in the past Li Jianheng had shielded the Imperial Guards; when it came to Xiao Chiye, everyone preferred to handle things gently, rarely impeaching him without cause. This time, however, Li Jianheng was clearly tired of him. Reading the wind, it was time to let Xiao Chiye suffer a bit.
The Ministry of Revenue clerks worked their abacuses until they clattered nonstop. Lamps were lit in the hall, and everyone pored over the books with intense focus, as though determined to calculate every entry seven or eight hundred times.
When Shen Zechuan arrived, he saw Dantai Hu in the corridor. He said nothing. Qiao Tianya had disguised himself as a Brocade Guard and followed him inside.
The sound of abacus beads filled the hall. Fu Linye set down his teacup and rose to greet Shen Zechuan.
They exchanged salutes and took their seats together.
“Did the search of the residence go smoothly?” Fu Linye asked.
“I was delayed quite a bit by Xiao the Second,” Shen Zechuan replied.
Just as Fu Linye had expected. With feigned concern, he said, “Did he lay hands on you? That rogue is the most domineering sort. You’ve suffered today, Lord Zhenfu.”
Shen Zechuan thought: he did lay hands on me, but it has nothing to do with you. Smiling, he said, “It’s nothing. Carrying out duties for His Majesty, a little hardship is bearable. Xiao the Second originally wouldn’t allow me to search the compound; fortunately Lord Yu was present and managed to persuade him.”
Fu Linye seemed eager to vent anger on his behalf. “We’re acting under imperial command. He dares to obstruct us—clearly he doesn’t take you or me seriously, nor does he take His Majesty seriously.”
Shen Zechuan looked toward the hall. “Is your side not finished yet, my lord?”
“It’s finished,” Fu Linye said, “but the books must be checked several more times. You know how easy it is to falsify accounts.”
Hearing the implication, Shen Zechuan paused briefly. “You are the chief officer in this investigation. I will follow your lead entirely.”
Fu Linye smiled without answering. He drank tea with Shen Zechuan for a while longer. At the third quarter past midnight, the newly rechecked account books were finally presented.
Fu Linye flipped through them and suddenly asked Meng Rui, “Early last spring, the palace issued an edict to build a temple. The Ministry of Works entrusted transportation to the Imperial Guards. But the temple was never completed, and the Governor went to the Ministry of Revenue to demand funds, didn’t he?”
“That’s right,” Meng Rui said. “The payment was delayed for months. It was the Imperial Guards’ hard-earned money. The Governor was anxious and personally went to demand it.”
Fu Linye closed the book and sneered. “At the time, the state treasury’s expenditures hadn’t been fully settled, and even the Directorate of Ceremonials didn’t dare approve payments casually. How did the Governor get the silver?”
“We didn’t receive silver,” Meng Rui replied. “At the time, it was handled by Ministry of Revenue Director Wang Xian. A batch of silk from Quancheng was given to the Imperial Guards, who converted it into silver. This transaction is clearly recorded in the books.”
Fu Linye suddenly slammed the table. The teapot rattled with a clang—if not for Qiao Tianya’s quick reflexes steadying it, tea would have spilled all over Shen Zechuan’s leg. Shen Zechuan sat smiling as ever, waiting for Fu Linye to continue.
This was an account from early spring. At that time, Shen Zechuan had still been confined in Zhaozui Temple, but he knew of it. The matter had ultimately been resolved not because of Wang Xian, but because of Xue Xiuzhuo. Back then, when Xue Xiuzhuo was still a Supervising Secretary of the Ministry of Revenue, he had stepped in to mediate and settled the account with Quancheng silk.
Shen Zechuan lightly tapped his knee with his fingers.
This account was a loophole.
Sure enough, Fu Linye put on a show of authority and demanded of Meng Rui, “The books say six hundred sixty bolts of silk were allocated to the Imperial Guards, recorded as lower-grade Quancheng silk. But the capital warehouse archives record that what was taken out was all upper-grade Quancheng silk! A single word difference—upper versus lower—but the discrepancy is over four thousand taels of silver! Tell me, where did that four thousand taels go?”
Meng Rui reacted swiftly, answering with composure. “What was issued was indeed lower-grade Quancheng silk. The goods were dispatched by the Ministry of Revenue, and the transfer order clearly specified lower-grade silk.”
Fu Linye flung the book aside. “Of course it did. Wang Xian was in cahoots with you long ago. He wrote ‘lower-grade silk’ on the order, but the warehouse records clearly show upper-grade silk was taken out. What benefit did Xiao Chiye promise Wang Xian to make him issue such a false order?”
Meng Rui was startled. “Baseless accusations! Lord Fu, merely—”
“I say the Imperial Guards are a greasy funnel for skimming profits. Xiao Chiye built his fortune on you lot. These years he’s been wallowing in drink and pleasure on East Dragon Street—everyone’s seen it. First Wang Xian colluding with him, then Yuan Liu groveling and offering women—Xiao Chiye, betraying imperial favor, has been lining his own pockets all along!” Fu Linye grinned viciously. “Lord Zhenfu, do you see? This so-called number-one favorite of the court is actually the number-one thief! Tonight, if we dig deeper, there will surely be plenty more rotten accounts like this!”
Shen Zechuan looked at Fu Linye until Fu Linye grew uneasy. “This matter has nothing to do with the assassination case. It falls outside my responsibilities in this investigation. I will leave it entirely to you, my lord.”
Fu Linye had intended to drag Shen Zechuan into it. Seeing him refuse to take the bait, he hesitated. Yet reporting this would indeed count as a major merit, and he was unwilling to let it go. Gritting his teeth, he slapped the table. “Investigate further! Tonight, have all the Imperial Guard accounts from past years checked a thousand times over!”
Shen Zechuan suddenly smiled, looked away, and sat drinking tea. There was a smile on his face, but his heart sank little by little. If Xue Xiuzhuo hadn’t been involved, even he might not have noticed this account—perhaps even Xiao Chiye himself had already forgotten it.
Could it be that Xue Xiuzhuo had been guarding against the Imperial Guards from that early on?
Shen Zechuan remained silent, blowing gently on the tea leaves.