Xiao Chiye moved south from the Bianbo Camp, linking up with the Cizhou garrison along the northern boundary of Libei. He didn’t press further south, instead following the same route as Shen Zechuan, circling around to the west of Dunzhou. To avoid alerting the Wing King of Fanzhou, he could only travel by night. Even with the delays, he still made it in time.
Shen Zechuan leaned closer, inhaling Xiao Chiye’s scent.
Xiao Chiye didn’t let him; when Shen Zechuan tried to lift him, he grabbed at Xiao Chiye’s front, forcing him to relent. Seeing Shen Zechuan’s right hand wrapped in gauze, Xiao Chiye worried that any forceful movements might worsen the injury, so he allowed Shen Zechuan to sniff freely.
“I haven’t washed in two days either,” Shen Zechuan murmured, pressing against Xiao Chiye in the blankets. “Let’s wash together.”
Rain pattered on the eaves like countless fine brushes. Xiao Chiye spread his chest, letting Shen Zechuan lie atop him. His loosened collar exposed a hint of skin; every inch of him seemed to seek Xiao Chiye. The casual intimacy, the teasing closeness, felt innocent, as if all the lingering warmth and desire were unintentional, purely naïve.
Shen Zechuan could turn a breath into a whisper; in Xiao Chiye’s eyes, he was a natural beauty. Those eyes stirred waves in Xiao Chiye’s chest, like warm fingertips skimming the surface of his inner lake, creating ripple after ripple. Whenever Shen Zechuan had begged before, each plea—so wet, so clinging—sounded intoxicating. Their movements in the bed were perfectly synchronized; even a faint hum could be read. The unparalleled pleasure came from this flawless harmony. To resist such a lover, Xiao Chiye had to be like a wall, holding back the waves.
“All right,” Xiao Chiye suddenly shifted his tone, playful. “I’ll take you into the bath with me.”
Shen Zechuan sensed trouble in that gaze.
Dunzhou lay to the east, colder than usual. The private baths in Tianji’s villa were unlike those in Qudu; enclosed, complete with all bathing utensils and multiple options. The moment the bamboo curtain rolled up, hot steam enveloped them.
Shen Zechuan’s clothes were still half on, soaked from the water. His wrists were bound with belts—ostensibly to protect his injuries—and hung on a small rack by the bath. Xiao Chiye picked a small golden bell from a wicker basket, suspending it so that any movement would ring clearly.
Shen Zechuan’s clothes clung wetly to his body, the steam oppressive. His ears flushed deep red, the contrast making his jade-like skin gleam. Xiao Chiye squatted before him, holding his legs.
“You never learn,” Xiao Chiye said, half-naked, drying a small blade with a cloth. “You need a lesson.”
Shen Zechuan curled his toes, closing his eyes. “Xiao Ce’an!”
“Hmm?” Xiao Chiye asked, focused on the blade. “Calling whom?”
Shen Zechuan pressed against the cold steel, reluctantly opening his eyes. All he could see was shame in his gaze. “I hate you!”
Xiao Chiye glanced at him. “I hate you too.”
The friction of the blade over wet skin made Shen Zechuan tremble minutely. The water was hot, the knife cold, each sensation acute. He couldn’t look down, only watched Xiao Chiye.
His gaze was so pitiful that Xiao Chiye felt an urge to capture it in drawing. Though he had been angry before, now he laughed. This was his first time performing such a task, so he did it carefully, shaving everything clean.
Shen Zechuan’s back pressed against the bath wall. The dual sensations—heat from water, coolness from the blade—eroded all his composure. He was utterly in Xiao Chiye’s hands, unable to move, surrounded by bright steam. The golden bell bobbed with his chest, making him feel like Xiao Chiye’s treasured gem, fully exposed.
Xiao Chiye asked, “Will you stab me again next time?”
Shen Zechuan didn’t answer.
When Xiao Chiye finished, he saw Shen Zechuan’s eyes red—tears from the steam, or from frustration, he didn’t know. Xiao Chiye showed no mercy, pinching Shen Zechuan’s cheek. “You get hurt once, I shave once.”
Chilled and breathless, Shen Zechuan’s flushed ears spread redness to his chest. Before he could recover, Xiao Chiye pressed him against the wall, kissing him, making the bell jingle wildly.
The next day, rain continued, and Shen Zechuan finally slept well.
When Xiao Chiye dressed, Chen Yang waited under the eaves. He slipped out in wooden clogs without letting anyone overhear their discussion and went to another room.
Chen Yang lifted the bamboo curtain for Xiao Chiye, letting the stale air dissipate, and presented the roster. “Two thousand three hundred cavalry prisoners were captured this time, sir. They’re held in Dunzhou prison under the Cizhou garrison.”
Xiao Chiye flipped through it, standing in the light’s shadow. “Lei Jingzhe?”
“Dead,” Chen Yang paused. “Found in the ruins, strangled.”
Xiao Chiye set down the roster, thinking of Shen Zechuan’s right hand injury. He paused. “Don’t wait to return to Cizhou. Send a letter immediately, have it rushed to Qidong, seal it with my private seal…” He hesitated, then added, “Better to use Lanze’s seal.”
This concerned the Zhongbo situation. Sealing it with his own would undermine Shen Zechuan’s authority, as he now governed Cizhou. Using a neutral seal preserved Shen Zechuan’s standing while maintaining their mutual obligations.
“Lei Jingzhe was the instigator of chaos in Dun and Duan. He brought the Biansha cavalry into Dunzhou. We and Cizhou’s forces acted together, striking only the Biansha, protecting the people of Zhongbo,” Chen Yang explained smoothly. “Even if this news spreads to Qudu, we bear no blame.”
“The reason we’re blameless is because Qudu has no troops,” Xiao Chiye said. “Otherwise, millions of charges could be pinned on Lanze. But desperate measures force desperate actions. Dunzhou is secure; Lanze now controls three provinces. Even if Xue Xiuzhuo or the Empress Dowager are preoccupied, they’ll start restraining Lanze. The best tactic is to release Qi Zhuyin, eliminate Fanzhou first, and remove Cizhou’s southeastern shield.”
This wasn’t urgent. The northern border was undefended; Qi Zhuyin had moved from Cangzhou to Bianjun to guard the gap. The Biansha had shifted forces northward, without granting Qidong advantage. Amuer concentrated forces on the north and southeast, deliberately bypassing Zhongbo to challenge Libei and Qidong. Xiao Chiye’s arrival in Cizhou had Xiao Fangxu’s support.
After discussing Dunzhou’s military affairs, they spoke of the armory when Guzhen entered.
“Sir,” Guzhen glanced outside. “Fei Sheng and the others are still kneeling in the corridor.”
Xiao Chiye turned his head, peering through the window grid without reply.
Guzhen didn’t dare insist and stepped aside.
Many bandits remained in Dunzhou, but Xiao Chiye’s fifteen thousand troops were sufficient. Liuer froze at his sight; with Lei Jingzhe dead, there was no room for mischief. Xiao Chiye didn’t plan to keep him close, leaving him to be dealt with by Kong Ling. The armory remained untouched, reserved for future use.
By midday, Xiao Chiye thought of Shen Zechuan, who was still asleep. Upon returning, he found him already up, standing under the eaves listening to Kong Ling.
Shen Zechuan averted his gaze.
Xiao Chiye wasn’t impatient; he knew Shen Zechuan was still wary from the previous night. He went inside briefly, catching a short nap.
When he awoke, Shen Zechuan was at the desk reviewing Cizhou’s matters.
Xiao Chiye wiped his face with a cloth. “Have you eaten?”
“No,” Shen Zechuan muttered.
Xiao Chiye grinned; seeing him so properly seated, naked beneath the table, was tempting. He sat opposite, legs crossed, and relaxed. “Have the servants bring something. Let’s eat.”
Shen Zechuan set down his pen, about to speak, when someone entered.
Chen Yang didn’t enter the inner room. “Sir, Lao Hu is here.”
Xiao Chiye recalled summoning Dantai Tiger before bed, wanting to speak in front of Shen Zechuan. He straightened. “Let him in—”
Shen Zechuan silently mouthed: don’t let him.
Xiao Chiye looked questioning; Shen Zechuan ignored him. Dantai Tiger crossed the threshold, waiting for Xiao Chiye to invite him in. Unaware of Shen Zechuan’s silent command, Xiao Chiye said, “I called you because there’s something. Earlier, in Libei, I didn’t mention it, but now’s the time. Tell me, will you defend Dunzhou?”
Dantai Tiger, who had followed Xiao Chiye closely, hesitated. “Sir… you’re leaving Dunzhou?”
Xiao Chiye rotated his fingers, “In Qudu, you had no choice. Later in Libei, circumstances forced my hand. Now, it’s different—you’ll handle things alone…”
Shen Zechuan moved from the desk, eyeing Xiao Chiye, who instinctively tried to pull back, only for Shen Zechuan to nip him. Xiao Chiye winced silently.
Outside, Dantai Tiger, catching the key moment, asked urgently, “Sir, I won’t return to Libei?”
Shen Zechuan traced Xiao Chiye’s profile with his nose. The heat pressed upward. Xiao Chiye retracted his earlier words; he couldn’t act as a wall against this lover. He only wanted Shen Zechuan to weep until no flower of resistance remained.