The Jinyiwei swarmed into the Xue Mansion, swiftly passing through the corridors. All within the estate were roused from sleep. The women, terrified, huddled together as they were driven from their rooms, gathering in the open courtyard. The Jinyiwei were fearsome throughout the city; in their eyes, Shen Zechuan was a predator, a wolf among men.
Xue Xiuyi hurriedly threw on his clothes and rushed out, seeing Xue Xiuzhuo standing beneath the eaves. He lunged at him, clutching him in anger. “What have you done? You’ve drawn the Jinyiwei here! If this drags us into trouble, I’ll cast you out and strip you of your surname!”
Xue Xiuzhuo turned to face his fearsome elder brother, allowing the grip, his eyes both compassionate and indifferent. “All the glory and gain benefit the family, yet when misfortune comes, one must bear it alone. Brother, do not fear—you are not the one for this burden.”
He stepped past Xue Xiuyi and walked down the steps toward Shen Zechuan.
This was the second time Shen Zechuan and Xue Xiuzhuo met face to face. Xue Xiuzhuo had remained in the study handling official matters before stepping out, his robe wide-sleeved and cinched with a jade sash. There was an unshakable composure about him; his elegance was not something fabricated overnight. Shen Zechuan had never doubted that he possessed real skill.
“Inspector Shen, to visit this humble abode at such an hour—what brings you?” Xue Xiuzhuo stood firm, nearly the same height as Shen Zechuan. “I should have a modest refreshment prepared in your honor.”
“I have just received the imperial edict. The Emperor commands me to oversee the military grain case. A matter this significant cannot be handled carelessly by the Jinyiwei, so Wei Huaigu was immediately apprehended,” Shen Zechuan said, casually studying the couplet on the main hall, not looking at Xue Xiuzhuo. “Wei Huaigu has long been close to Deputy Xue. To avoid suspicion, your household will be searched tonight.”
“I am aware that the Dali Temple coordinates with the Jinyiwei in handling cases. But I am an imperial officer; for the Jinyiwei to search my residence, documents from the Ministry of Punishments are required.” Xue Xiuzhuo surveyed the panicked courtyard. “But the case is urgent. Inspector Shen has the right to act first and report later. Xue Shu, give the Jinyiwei the keys to the inner residence. Lead them wherever they wish to search.”
Shen Zechuan tilted his head. “You are truly capable, prepared even against an impromptu imperial edict.”
Xue Xiuzhuo smiled. “Meeting someone like you, caution is warranted. It is cold out tonight. If you do not mind, Inspector, would you join me inside for tea? The estate is large; after the search, one should attend morning court.”
“I’ll pass on tea,” Shen Zechuan turned slowly. “I cannot accept the refreshments of the high-born. So, I am to leave empty-handed again tonight?”
“That depends on your purpose,” Xue Xiuzhuo said. “If it is for the investigation, then yes, it is regrettable. I have little personal relation with Wei Huaigu.”
Shen Zechuan fell silent, staring at Xue Xiuzhuo. That subtle feeling of being toyed with rose again. After a while, Qiao Tianya returned to the courtyard, shaking his head from a distance. Shen Zechuan realized he had missed his target; both his master and teacher were not here.
“A cunning rabbit has three burrows,” Shen Zechuan murmured.
“A fish in the pot, merely catching a breath,” Xue Xiuzhuo replied respectfully.
“You have but this one chance with me,” Shen Zechuan stepped closer. “Where is he?”
Tonight, there was no moon. The damp chill after the rain seeped through every corner. Men and women in the courtyard covered their faces and wept. Unaware of the details, Xue Xiuyi feared Xue Xiuzhuo might anger Shen Zechuan and hurried forward, bowing nervously. “Sir, whom do you seek? There are no fugitives in the military grain case! Everyone is here. You may question us fully and speak without reserve!”
Xue Xiuzhuo remained silent. Shen Zechuan, seeing he would not reveal his master’s whereabouts, said, “I seek an imperial criminal. I hear Deputy Xue’s household keeps a number of courtesans—is that so?”
Xue Xiuzhuo’s gaze flickered. Xue Xiuyi quickly blurted, “Yes! Yes, but matters of indulgence are already handled by the Censorate’s remonstrances. He hid them carefully, unnoticed by other officials. Sir, these children—look! They are harmless. How could they be imperial fugitives?”
Shen Zechuan noticed Xue Xiuzhuo’s slight change in expression, then turned to the boys and girls. “What is Xiangyun House? It harbors fugitives tied to assassination cases. Deputy Xue quietly acquired people from there without notifying the Ministry of Punishments?”
Xue Xiuzhuo pushed Xue Xiuyi aside. “These individuals all have household registration. Though raised in brothels, they are innocent. Inspector Shen, tonight you are handling the military grain case; it concerns them not. Why persist?”
“Whether innocent or guilty, a trip to the imperial prison will reveal the truth,” Shen Zechuan said, glancing back. “Take them all.”
Cries rose as Qiao Tianya began dragging the children. These boys, taught like sons of nobility by Xue Xiuzhuo, could not match the Jinyiwei’s might; their wails grew louder. Xue Xiuyi trembled, attempting to intercede, even invoking Xiao Chiye’s name.
“Sir!” he stammered, clutching himself. “Since this concerns the North, should we first ask the Marquis’s opinion? If there is trouble, take Xue Xiuzhuo—you may!”
Xue Xiuzhuo stepped forward abruptly, blocking Qiao Tianya. “Even the Jinyiwei must follow procedure! Inspector Shen, you may take my people, but I must see the Ministry of Punishments’ warrant!”
“Take them!” Shen Zechuan brandished his blade, forcing Xue Xiuzhuo back. “Want a warrant? I will provide as many as you need in the morning!”
“Shen Zechuan!” Xue Xiuzhuo whipped his sleeve. “You act from personal grudge—I will remonstrate against you!”
“Then file it tonight!” Shen Zechuan’s tone went cold. “As long as these children are in my hands, for every day I do not see my master, one shall die! Guess when I will reach your precious students?”
“You dare!” Xue Xiuzhuo’s fury surged. Seeing Qiao Tianya dragging the children, their cries sharp and piercing, he grabbed Qiao Tianya’s arm. “You act as wolves, seizing innocent people, and call it an investigation? Stop!”
“Try to stop me again, and I will act!” Shen Zechuan’s thumb pressed against the blade’s edge.
Xue Xiuyi, seeing their conflict and Shen Zechuan’s drawn blade, was terrified to the point of fainting. Servants rushed to support him. Xue Xiuzhuo was pulled back by the Jinyiwei, watching helplessly as the students were loaded onto carts.
“Shen Zechuan!” he grasped the arm restraining him, eyes blazing with rage. “If you harm them, you dare? You dare? You tyrant! You are unworthy to be a student of my master!”
Shen Zechuan vaulted onto his horse, leaving Xue Xiuzhuo’s shouts behind.
The northern campaign was intense; the border garrisons were far from stagnant.
Lu Guangbai returned to camp for rest. Before dismounting, his deputy rushed over. “What is it?”
The deputy, pale, spoke quietly, “General, the Inspector from Qu City has arrived, bringing this year’s military grain.”
Lu Guangbai fell silent, then removed his helmet and entered the tent. Inside, a high-ranking eunuch sat on a raised seat, wearing a dragon-patterned robe and a tall hat. He did not rise upon seeing Lu Guangbai.
Lu Guangbai set down his spear. “You’ve traveled far; why not rest? I’ve ordered the tent prepared.”
Ying Xi, newly promoted and acquainted with palace politics, sneered at the general. “This place is desolate and poor. No one here knows how to serve properly. General, no need for trouble. I’ve inspected everything. The tent is dark and filthy—not fit to stay. I’ve already sent word 800 li away to Cang Commandery for timber, planning to build a temporary residence—I’ll be here six months!”
Lu Guangbai, terse by nature, ignored him. As he loosened the bindings, the iron box tore open, blood-stained and spoiled. Ying Xi recoiled, covering his nose. “How could it rot like this!”
The deputy attempted to bandage the supplies, noting the damage. “General, this is ruined! A military physician should inspect it.”
Lu Guangbai gestured for silence. Producing a dagger, he poured wine on the wound, heating the blade over the candle flame. The deputy hastened to hold his sleeve; Ying Xi shivered at the grotesque sounds. Lu Guangbai sprinkled medicine and ordered the bandages secured.
“Cavalry is tough. Without orders, we cannot pursue beyond the designated area. In active operations, one cannot attend to such matters,” he said after tending his injuries. He then looked at Ying Xi. “Did you bring the grain?”
Ying Xi nodded, suppressing nausea.
Lu Guangbai rose. “I’ll inspect it.”
He left the tent with his deputy, heading toward the grain store. The transport had already departed. Lu Guangbai entered the warehouse, untied the sacks, and frowned. Grabbing a handful, he found the rice damp and moldy.
“General,” the deputy said, “it’s not only spoiled, but insufficient. Our border garrison has twenty thousand men, constantly on patrol. We consume more than the other four garrisons. This amount won’t last till autumn!”
Lu Guangbai let the grain slip from his scarred hands. “Hai Grand Secretary has always looked after us. Last year’s rations arrived promptly. This time they’re less—surely there is reason?”
The deputy hesitated, opening his mouth several times before swallowing back words.
“Speak,” Lu Guangbai said. “What is it? Who is silencing you?”
“General!” the deputy, frustrated, gripped the grain, tears in his voice. “They gave less! Why? To send it to the Northern Cavalry! Damn it! The Northern Cavalry are fine soldiers; our border troops are scum! They’ve always favored one and oppressed the other, always degrading us! But this is war! Life is at stake! Why this bias?! How are we to survive? When I asked the transporters about autumn, they said the court told us to manage it ourselves! Manage it ourselves—curse them, ‘manage it ourselves’!”
The deputy clenched his fists.
“The Qidong military grain was halved to supply the North, yet other garrisons do not fight? They still have military fields; we starve! Come autumn, the horses of the twelve border regiments will fatten. Then it will be even harder! With this meager grain, we—”
“Enough!” Lu Guangbai stopped him, standing in the darkness for a long while. He gazed at the starry sky, voice hoarse. “…I will find a way.”
The border beacon towers lay silent among the rolling mountains. Night pressed like stagnant water, blotting out the sky. Lu Guangbai lacked the renown of the other three generals. Like a jagged rock at the edge of the desert, he bore the weight of pressures from all sides. Many of his kin had perished; only he inherited Lu Pingyan’s long spear.
Clumsy and uncharismatic, he had risen late, lacking the talent of Xiao Jiming or Qi Zhuyin. Yet he alone had steadied the border after Lu Pingyan’s retreat, holding the throat of the advancing cavalry. He had no master; he was forged in the sands alongside Lu Pingyan. Honest to all… and covered in scars.
That night, Lu Guangbai did not sleep. Sitting on the earthen slope before the camp, he pondered how to solve the grain problem. Qi Zhuyin, overseeing five garrisons, had spent her personal funds supporting them; he could not keep relying on her. His father was still ill; he could not trouble Lu Pingyan to borrow money again.
When the deputy rose in the night, he saw Lu Guangbai’s solitary figure. As he approached to urge him to rest, he saw him bend over, hands on the earth, motionless for a long time.