Dantai Hu continued his report: “Governor, if you command me to guard Dunzhou, I will obey without question. I only grieve for the brothers left in Libei, and, even more, for Your Excellency. Dunzhou was my elder brother’s former post… I truly…”
Xiao Chiye’s fingers delved into Shen Zechuan’s hair, patient and deliberate, his thumb rubbing along the base of Shen Zechuan’s ear, turning that jade bead faintly pink. Outside, distant thunder rumbled occasionally; Xiao Chiye ignored it completely.
A bamboo screen separated them from the outer hall, yet Dantai Hu’s voice was clearly audible. Shen Zechuan, flushed and fumbling, was too tender and vulnerable to speak properly. His sudden, unbidden predicament left him overwhelmed, eyes moist with emotion.
Dantai Hu, a full seven feet tall, could not conceal his own tears while kneeling before them. Collecting himself, he addressed Xiao Chiye formally: “Dunzhou currently lacks a garrison. If you entrust it to me, I must live up to this favor.”
Xiao Chiye endured the dense tide pressing against him, holding Shen Zechuan’s right wrist and fixing his hand in place atop his hair. The space beneath the table was cramped. Shen Zechuan, stifled by heat, quickly became drenched in sweat.
“I’ll leave you five thousand troops,” Xiao Chiye said, his Adam’s apple moving as he spoke. “Future accounts will run through Cizhou, under Lan Zhou’s authority. If anything arises, report it to him immediately.”
Dantai Hu, aware of Shen Zechuan’s presence in the room, thought for a moment before speaking in earnest: “Dunzhou will need new recruits and the city walls rebuilt. The expenditures must be confirmed with Your Excellency first.”
Dantai Hu continued discussing administrative matters, all requiring detailed attention. Normally, Shen Zechuan would have summoned Kong Ling to note down the instructions, but he was entirely distracted, his thoughts drowned by Xiao Chiye’s firm grasp. The waves in his eyes swelled, eventually spilling over like severed pearls.
The scene was overwhelming.
Xiao Chiye pressed slightly harder, and with the rain intermittently booming outside, Shen Zechuan’s controlled composure melted. He didn’t even notice when Dantai Hu finally withdrew. Xiao Chiye lifted a leg, shoving the table aside.
A clap of thunder exploded; the rain intensified, pelting against the windows, scattering droplets like shattered beads. Xiao Chiye didn’t move; he remained there, attending to Shen Zechuan. With his hands bound behind him, Shen Zechuan straddled Xiao Chiye, whispering softly amidst the storm.
It was unbearably smooth.
Within a few moments, Shen Zechuan could no longer endure, trembling with every motion, soiling Xiao Chiye’s robes. This time, Xiao Chiye made no diversions—he held those wrists firmly, allowing only the pleadings of “Ah Ye” and “Ce An” to reach him, reckoning the account fully.
The rain continued.
After the rain subsided, Xiao Chiye collapsed into the bedding, pulling Shen Zechuan close, still holding his right wrist. Shen Zechuan dozed and stirred, resting his head on Xiao Chiye’s chest, muttering incoherently.
Xiao Chiye listened for a while, unable to make sense of it, too sleepy to respond clearly. They drifted in this muddled state until noon the next day. Half-awake, Xiao Chiye heard Shen Zechuan calling for him. He blinked, murmuring, “Hmm, hmm?”
Shen Zechuan, too exhausted to lift his head, tugged at Xiao Chiye’s small braid.
Xiao Chiye dozed a bit longer, mind still lingering on military matters. Eventually, he rolled over, pressing Shen Zechuan beneath him: “Get up, take your medicine.”
Shen Zechuan used his left hand to cover Xiao Chiye’s forehead, pretending not to hear.
Xiao Chiye sighed, burying himself into Shen Zechuan’s chest, rubbing roughly until Shen Zechuan sank further into the bedding. He groaned, “Shen Lanzhou, hurry and get me up.”
Bound by fatigue, Shen Zechuan couldn’t even breathe easily, tugging at Xiao Chiye’s braid to no avail. He opened his eyes weakly: “My back aches, my knees hurt… I can’t get up.”
Xiao Chiye slid his hand beneath Shen Zechuan, lifting his back and settling him atop himself, helping him out of bed. When Shen Zechuan had been pressed into water the previous night, he was dazed; now, leaning against Xiao Chiye, he barely wanted to move a finger. They simply soaked together.
Morning Yang had been waiting since early, hearing the door open to see Xiao Chiye donning a clean, loose robe and wooden clogs. He allowed the maids to enter first, and shortly after, Shen Zechuan also appeared, robe-clad and in clogs, both looking sleep-deprived.
“Where’s the Tiger?” Xiao Chiye asked. “Call him later; I forgot some things yesterday.”
“Call Fei Sheng first,” Shen Zechuan said, glancing down the hall. “Why is he still kneeling?”
Morning Yang obeyed and went to summon him.
Fei Sheng knelt under the corridor as Kong Ling, clad in a raincoat, arrived. “Mr. Chengfeng,” he greeted respectfully.
Kong Ling removed his straw hat and coat, hanging it aside. “Why are you still kneeling?”
Fei Sheng replied, “Master hasn’t given orders yet.”
Having knelt for two days under Xiao Chiye’s watch, Fei Sheng bore it without complaint. Kong Ling, reassured, said, “The Marquis and Your Excellency are rarely together; the Marquis became angry when Your Excellency was injured. The recent military duties were heavy, so some frustration is natural.”
Fei Sheng hurriedly added, “We are guards; if our Master is injured, it is our fault. I haven’t seen him for two days and worried about his injury.”
Kong Ling nodded. “Your loyalty has not gone unnoticed. Wait a moment longer, and it will be your turn.”
Fei Sheng realized Kong Ling had seen through him, so he said, “I am a rough man; I hope you can guide me this time.”
Kong Ling smiled, watching Morning Yang approach, and said, “Don’t worry; kneeling these two days means your hardship will soon bear sweetness.”
Fei Sheng, worried Xiao Chiye would mete out retribution, also sensed Kong Ling’s words carried another meaning. The joy he had felt kneeling earlier had been erased; seeing Xiao Chiye’s expression, he could not predict the punishment. Hearing the summons, he quickly rose and followed.
Shen Zechuan sat drinking medicine at a chair, closely watched by Xiao Chiye. He could not leave the sugar in front of him untouched, swallowing despite the bitterness. He never drank strong tea or bitter medicine willingly, except when severely injured as on the carriage, otherwise refusing to comply.
Xiao Chiye reviewed military matters, sliding the dish of honey toward Shen Zechuan.
Fei Sheng entered, bowed, and knelt in the hall.
Shen Zechuan, reluctant to eat sugar in front of subordinates, withdrew his fingertips, enduring the bitterness: “Have the brothers’ injuries been treated?”
Fei Sheng replied truthfully, “Yes, all minor; nothing serious.”
Shen Zechuan adopted a serious tone: “Care for the injured; exempt them from duties for a few days. Bury those two brothers properly. If they have families in Cizhou, allocate forty taels from my accounts to settle them respectfully.”
Fei Sheng’s face lit with joy but he restrained it, saying: “As the Master commands, it will be done properly.”
Not everyone could “act” on Shen Zechuan’s behalf; such tasks were usually done by Qiao Tianya. Drawing from Shen Zechuan’s private accounts signified deep trust, far more valuable than rewards. Fei Sheng was overjoyed, but noticing Xiao Chiye’s impassive expression, he restrained himself and withdrew.
The Jinyiwei had guarded well this time, without desertion; Shen Zechuan would reward them. Xiao Chiye’s prior punishment of Fei Sheng made Shen Zechuan’s subsequent rewards appear more considerate, ensuring Fei Sheng remembered both the lesson and the favor.
Shen Zechuan turned, intending to speak to Xiao Chiye in this interlude. Xiao Chiye raised a hand, shoving sugar into his mouth. Kong Ling entered.
Xiao Chiye said calmly, “Dunzhou has been taken, but defending it is a problem. Cizhou has no commanding officers now. I’m leaving Dantai Hu here, and drawing five thousand troops from the Imperial and Cizhou garrisons to remain. Winter recruitment must be expedited, and fortifications are urgent.”
Morning Yang handed the roster to Kong Ling.
Some matters required Shen Zechuan’s input, but with sugar in his mouth, Xiao Chiye continued: “Dunzhou’s government offices must be rebuilt; household registration must be thorough. Chengfeng, consider if there are suitable people in Cizhou offices to assist Dantai Hu.”
The Cizhou bureaucrats’ review had been handled by Zhou Gui’s aides. After the Ga Zhongxiong incident, two had been executed. This time, Shen Zechuan delegated the task to Kong Ling, giving the Cizhou staff another chance.
Kong Ling rose: “If there are competent ones, I’ll compile a roster, submit it for Your Excellency’s review, and Yuan Zhuo can advise as well.”
Kong Ling, by accepting Shen Zechuan’s stage, also elevated Yao Wenyu, lowering his own position in comparison. Morning Yang, having observed bureaucrats in military camps, found Kong Ling’s composure impressive.
“Some arrangements, you can discuss with Dantai Hu directly,” Xiao Chiye said. “You were his elder brother Dantai Long’s aide; speak freely. He respects you and will not show a harsh face.”
They discussed Dunzhou’s governance plans. Outside, merchants waited to meet Shen Zechuan; Yan Heru and Hairegu were still confined, and the scorpion incident remained unresolved. Xiao Chiye also needed to maintain correspondence with Wu Ziyu in Libei. With snow blocking roads, limited funds and manpower had to be prioritized, all under Xiao Chiye’s approval.
Time for leisure seemed minimal; lingering in bed in the morning was impossible with so many affairs. Merchants’ loud disputes made Xiao Chiye regret having indulged the previous night; Shen Zechuan now had to attend matters while still mentally taxed.
Xiao Chiye glanced at Shen Zechuan, seeing him sit seriously, holding a pen and doodling a turtle—then writing Xiao Chiye’s name.