The sky had not yet fully brightened, and a thin mist shrouded the streets outside Prince Yi’s residence.
Li Ziao was already dressed in his martial uniform, standing straight at the attendance station in the outer courtyard.
Although he had been ordered to report precisely at the Mao hour, he had arrived half an hour early.
As the legitimate second son of the Jingbei Marquis’s household and a promising young military officer, he had now been assigned to guard duty here for a month as punishment for repeatedly acting rashly in matters concerning Lord Yuexi. He knew very well that he could no longer afford to be negligent.
Before long, Lan Ningcheng emerged from beneath the corridor, accompanied by three saber-bearing guards.
“Good morning, Chief Steward Lan!”
Seeing him, Li Ziao habitually grinned and greeted him with cupped fists.
Lan Ningcheng stopped but did not respond.
His deep eyes were like an ancient well as they settled on Li Ziao, devoid of the slightest warmth.
Frankly speaking, if not for consideration of the Jingbei Marquis’s household’s reputation, Lan Ningcheng would never have allowed such a “dangerous character” into the residence.
Li Ziao’s greatest problem was not the level of his martial skills, but his complete lack of awareness regarding his own circumstances and political identity. He acted recklessly, driven entirely by a surge of enthusiasm. If he did not have the Jingbei Marquis’s household backing him, this fool would have been devoured alive by the consequences of his own rashness long ago.
And now, this man who had caused such a tremendous disaster was actually smiling at him as though nothing had happened?
The Li family had certainly played their cards well, tossing this troublesome hot potato into his hands.
Since the Li family was unwilling to discipline him, Lan Ningcheng would do it on their behalf, lest the man cause more trouble in the future.
“Young General Li.”
Lan Ningcheng’s tone was even, yet it carried an intimidating authority.
“This is neither your Jingbei Marquis’s residence nor your capital army barracks. From the moment you reported for duty just now, you became a guard serving at this prince’s residence. According to the rules, you should address me as ‘Lord Chief Steward,’ and I will address you only as ‘Guard Li.’ Within this residence, status and regulations are boundaries that must never be crossed.”
The smile on Li Ziao’s face stiffened slightly. He then rubbed his nose, composed himself, and lowered his head.
“This subordinate understands, Lord Chief Steward.”
Lan Ningcheng nodded slightly.
“Since this is your first day on duty, and given your special status, I will personally establish the rules for you. Follow me.”
The two walked one after the other through the morning mist.
Lan Ningcheng did not look back. His footsteps were steady, and his voice rang particularly clearly along the quiet bluestone path.
“Guard Li, you will be here for only one month. During this month, you are neither a guest nor an official investigating a case. You are simply a guard. A guard’s duty is to stop someone when they attempt to force their way inside, not to interrogate them about why they want to enter. It is to send word immediately upon discovering anything unusual, not to pursue and investigate it alone.”
Although these words were straightforward, they differed greatly from the military’s emphasis on maneuvering and searching for the enemy.
Li Ziao furrowed his brows slightly and could not help asking, “Lord Chief Steward, isn’t a guard’s duty to protect the master of this residence?”
Lan Ningcheng abruptly stopped walking.
He turned around and stared coldly at Li Ziao, uttering a sentence devoid of warmth.
“That is the responsibility of the prince’s personal guards, not yours.”
Ignoring Li Ziao’s astonished expression, Lan Ningcheng resumed walking.
“Within this residence, everyone does only what falls within their own responsibilities. Do not speak about matters outside your duties, and do not enter areas beyond your assigned jurisdiction. These are the most basic rules.”
Li Ziao grew increasingly puzzled.
If he saw danger within the prince’s residence, was he supposed to pretend he had not seen it?
Why were the rules of Prince Yi’s residence even more complicated and cold than military orders?
“The rules of this residence are numerous and complicated. It is unrealistic to expect you to memorize them all in one day, so I will teach you only three principles.” Lan Ningcheng’s voice was as hard as iron.
“What you see may be remembered, but that does not mean you may speak of it.”
“What you hear may be kept in mind, but that does not mean you may ask about it.”
“What you deduce must be buried in your stomach. You must not discuss it carelessly.”
These three sentences struck Li Ziao like three tightening curses, leaving his head spinning.
He felt as though he had returned to the days of his childhood, when his teacher forced him to memorize texts. All he could do was engrave these words into his mind.
“…This subordinate will remember.”
Lan Ningcheng glanced at him and swallowed the harsh warning he had originally intended to give.
There was little benefit in saying too much to a straightforward military officer like this. He could only hope that the man would behave himself for this one month.
He pointed to the three guards behind him.
“These three men are your fellow guards on today’s shift. You may share meals at the same table or spar with one another at the training ground. But remember, do not use your familiarity with one another as an excuse to inquire about matters you should not ask about.”
Li Ziao looked at the three sturdy guards. From the scars on their bodies and the thick calluses on their hands, he could tell that they had solid foundations in martial arts. It seemed he would have a good opportunity to test his skills against them.
“Specifically, what kinds of things count as ‘matters I should not ask about’?”
Li Ziao put aside his thoughts and humbly sought instruction.
Lan Ningcheng paused and turned his head slightly.
“For example, the question you just asked.”
“Huh?” Li Ziao froze. “But if I don’t ask, how am I supposed to know what the taboos are?”
Lan Ningcheng sighed almost imperceptibly. His tone remained cold, but his attitude was serious.
“I am teaching you the boundaries and rules of being a guard, not answering questions about the specific intelligence of this residence. What you need to understand is which words must not leave your mouth, not take the opportunity to probe me for the private affairs of the household.”
He then broke the explanation down into simple examples.
“For instance, you must not ask what guests have arrived at the residence today, who is present, or who is absent. You must not ask what His Highness is doing or how he is faring in his daily life. And you must absolutely not ask where the guards are stationed, what routes they patrol, or when they change shifts. This is not because the residence is engaged in any shameful business, but because strict confidentiality is an ironclad rule.”
Lan Ningcheng fixed his sharp gaze on him.
“Especially someone like you, who cannot keep his mouth shut and is easily led by others. Can you guarantee that after getting drunk, or after someone provokes you with a few careless remarks, you will not let these ‘trivial matters’ slip out? In this court, the speaker may have no particular intention, but the listener may have ulterior motives. You might think you are merely making an insignificant remark, but once someone pieces several such remarks together, they become a deployment map capable of bringing this entire residence to ruin.”
Li Ziao finally understood.
The reasoning was exactly the same as the military’s precautions against enemy spies.
“This subordinate understands, Lord Chief Steward. I will certainly be careful with my words and actions.”
Lan Ningcheng was not reassured by this.
If Li Ziao had truly been the sort of person who could behave himself simply by understanding what others said, he would never have dared to secretly attend Lord Yuexi’s appointment after receiving thirty lashes in the first place.
Afterward, Lan Ningcheng led him around the front courtyard to familiarize him with the surroundings.
“You may only remain within your assigned patrol area. At present, your permitted range of movement is limited to the front courtyard. Whether you are on duty or not, you must never enter the central courtyard or rear courtyard without a written order. Even in the front courtyard, you must patrol according to the schedule. If His Highness is discussing official matters or receiving guests, you must keep your distance. You must never approach on your own simply because you ‘sense something unusual.'”
The more Li Ziao listened, the more he felt that rather than serving as a guard, he had come here to serve a prison sentence.
He nodded listlessly.
“Oh…”
After catching Lan Ningcheng’s icy gaze, he immediately straightened his back and corrected himself.
“This subordinate will obey!”
“Finally, the last rule, and the most important one.”
Lan Ningcheng’s expression turned solemn.
“You must never make decisions on His Highness’s behalf. Within this residence, His Highness’s orders take precedence over everything else. If His Highness orders you to retreat, then even if you must retreat through a mountain of blades or a sea of flames, you must do so. If an unexpected emergency arises and His Highness has not issued an order, you must not act on your own initiative. You must come to me first.”
After hearing this long list of rules that sounded like iron laws, Li Ziao obediently replied, “This subordinate has memorized all of them.”
Lan Ningcheng nodded slightly.
“Do you have any other questions?”
“I do.” Li Ziao looked entirely serious. “Lord Chief Steward, is there a layout map of the residence? I would like to know exactly where I am forbidden to go, so I can avoid accidentally trespassing.”
“…”
Lan Ningcheng raised a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. For the first time, he deeply realized that his patience actually had limits.
“Guard Li.”
“Present.”
“Are you here to serve as a guard, or to serve as a spy?”
Li Ziao keenly sensed the murderous intent rising in the other’s eyes and hurriedly waved his hands in explanation.
“Lord Chief Steward, you’ve misunderstood! Of course I’m here to serve as a guard. Although I’m only serving a month’s punishment, I still want to fulfill my duties faithfully. I don’t need to see the entire map. Just the area of the front courtyard would be enough…”
“No. Not even the front courtyard.”
Lan Ningcheng interrupted him without the slightest mercy.
“When you were in the army, would you hand over a military fortress map that you considered ‘unimportant’ to someone whose background you did not know, someone who might become an enemy at any moment?”
“Of course not. But I’m not the enemy!” Li Ziao hurriedly replied.
“That is what you think.”
Lan Ningcheng looked at him, his tone so grave it was almost suffocating.
“Guard Li, the Prince Yi’s residence and the Jingbei Marquis’s household have never had close ties or any particular debt of gratitude to one another. Both serve the Son of Heaven as their sovereign. If one day His Majesty, His Highness, and the Jingbei Marquis all issue three conflicting orders to you at the same time, whose orders would you follow?”
Li Ziao fell silent instantly.
Lan Ningcheng had no intention of waiting for his answer. He simply laid bare the harsh reality before him.
“There is no need to think about the answer. Under Great Sheng’s laws, you should obey His Majesty. If you obey His Highness, you will be accused of forming a faction. If you obey the Jingbei Marquis, the Li family will be accused of maintaining a private army and plotting rebellion. Your identity and position are themselves a deadlock. Under these circumstances, do you still dare to confidently claim that you are absolutely not an enemy of Prince Yi’s residence?”
Li Ziao still tried to argue.
“But that kind of situation would never happen. His Highness is, after all, His Majesty’s own blood…”
“I was merely giving you an example to help you understand your position.”
Lan Ningcheng sighed again.
Unwilling to continue arguing with Li Ziao about this matter, Lan Ningcheng withdrew his gaze, returned to his usual indifferent tone, and began reciting the disciplinary regulations.
“Although this residence is not a military camp, the law still applies. The first violation earns a formal warning. The second violation results in a deduction of salary or additional duties. If there is a third…”
His gaze turned cold.
“You will be dismissed immediately and handed over to His Highness for personal punishment. And this is only for ordinary violations. If your actions result in the leakage of the residence’s secrets or casualties among its personnel, you will be punished severely without exception.”
Li Ziao’s Adam’s apple moved with difficulty. He nodded heavily.
“This subordinate will keep it firmly in mind.”
He had thought his elder brother was already strict enough in his military discipline, but he had never imagined that the security measures at Prince Yi’s residence would be even more airtight than those at the Jingbei Marquis’s household.
“If you feel the urge to practice your martial skills, you may spar with the other guards. If you find the work dull, you may apply to change shifts. If there is anything you do not understand, you may come and ask me.” Lan Ningcheng delivered one final warning. “Just do not touch matters that do not belong to you. Within this residence, you do not need to know too much.”
“But if I know nothing at all, how am I supposed to protect His Highness?”
Li Ziao was still dissatisfied.
Lan Ningcheng gazed at him and spoke slowly.
“That is precisely why I must teach you this most important lesson. A guard’s duty is not to uncover every danger and secret on behalf of his master. Rather, it is to let his master know that—even if the guard himself knows nothing about the situation—his master can still confidently entrust his back to him and attend to the matters he is supposed to handle.”
Li Ziao’s heart trembled, as though a sudden enlightenment had washed over him.
Protecting someone did not mean forcibly interfering in every aspect of that person’s life.
Thinking back on his past actions, he had always been too eager to protect, too eager to interfere, and even presumed to make decisions on behalf of others. In the end, he had only brought disaster upon them.
And now, this cold and stern chief steward was telling him:
Hold your own position.
Respect other people’s boundaries.
When you see danger, first learn to judge the situation instead of blindly drawing your blade.
It turned out that restraint and obedience could also be a deeper form of protection.
Seeing that a trace of understanding had finally appeared in Li Ziao’s eyes, Lan Ningcheng’s tightly furrowed brows relaxed slightly.
“Young General Li, have you never served as a household guard before?”
“Never.”
Lan Ningcheng asked thoughtfully, “Before you left, did your elder brother not teach you these rules or give you any special instructions?”
Li Ziao did not suspect anything and answered frankly.
“My elder brother only told me to perform my duties properly and not cause trouble for His Highness. He said that if anyone in the residence asked me anything, I should answer truthfully. He also told me to write a daily ‘duty log’ and hand it over to him.”
Lan Ningcheng raised an eyebrow, then shook his head helplessly.
“Being honest is certainly not a bad thing. You do not have to lie, but you should not reveal everything, including things you should not say.”
Lan Ningcheng looked at him.
“Guard Li, I was merely testing you with a casual question just now. You only needed to say the first half of your answer. The second half, about the ‘duty log,’ was something you should have kept buried in your stomach.”
“Huh?”
Li Ziao was stunned. Lan Ningcheng had actually been fishing for information.
He had thought they were merely making casual conversation. Besides, he had not felt that the second half of his answer was anything particularly important.
“What do you think your elder brother wants you to write that log for?” Lan Ningcheng asked.
“Naturally, to supervise whether I’m slacking off or causing trouble.”
“That is only the first layer.”
Li Ziao furrowed his brows, feeling that Lan Ningcheng was being far too suspicious.
His elder brother often required the officers under his command to write military intelligence reports as well. It was probably just a habit.
Seeing that he still looked bewildered, Lan Ningcheng did not explain further. He merely said indifferently, “If you think it is an assignment from your elder brother, then treat it as an assignment and write it.”
Li Ziao scratched his head, secretly thinking that dealing with Lan Ningcheng was even more exhausting than dealing with his own elder brother.
At least when his elder brother scolded him, he would occasionally smile. But Chief Steward Lan’s face seemed to have been forged from iron, and even his gaze carried a coldness that kept everyone at a distance.
After finishing his lecture, Lan Ningcheng waved his hand and sent Li Ziao off to join the other guards on duty.
Watching the somewhat guileless figure walk away, a sharp, dark glint flashed through Lan Ningcheng’s eyes.
This “duty log” was indeed troublesome.
Was Li Zihe merely being strict in disciplining his reckless younger brother, or was he deliberately using this log to spy on the movements within Prince Yi’s residence?
There was no conclusive evidence at present, but one thing was certain: through this arrangement, the Li family could at least keep track of everything Li Ziao saw and heard each day within the prince’s residence.
Even if Li Zihe had no malicious intentions, this log had quietly become a channel through which the Jingbei Marquis’s household could observe Prince Yi’s residence.
Prince Yi’s residence was currently at a critical stage in its investigation. Not even the slightest clue could be allowed to leak.
Once the mastermind behind the events of that year was alerted, not only would the evidence be destroyed, but His Highness and Lord Yuexi would also be plunged into an irretrievable disaster.
Whatever the Li family’s true intentions might be, the residence absolutely could not allow Li Ziao access to any core secrets.
The Jingbei Marquis’s household did not have to become an ally of Prince Yi’s residence.
But Lan Ningcheng would never permit them to become an uncontrollable variable in this game of chess.
◆◇◆◇◆
For several consecutive days, Li Ziao did not even catch a glimpse of the hem of Xiao Ying’s robe.
Nor did he see Lord Yuexi come to visit.
Even though he reported for duty at the gatehouse before the first light of dawn, he never once personally witnessed Prince Yi leaving the residence.
The only way he could judge Xiao Ying’s movements was by checking whether the luxurious carriage decorated with golden chi-dragon patterns remained parked in the front courtyard. If the carriage was gone, he knew His Highness had gone out.
But he had no idea when the prince had left, where he had gone, or when he would return.
Li Ziao’s daily duties consisted of wearing a guard’s martial uniform and patrolling the outer courtyard alongside the household guards, sometimes working the day shift and sometimes standing night watch.
His daily tasks were dull and repetitive.
There were no assassinations accompanied by flashing blades, as he had imagined, nor were there any ill-intentioned assassins scaling the walls in the middle of the night.
The most exciting scenes were the occasional appearances of several plump, glossy-furred cats, which strolled leisurely along the tall blue-brick walls or chased one another around.
He had heard that they were pampered pets raised within the prince’s residence.
Sometimes they would look down at him, the new guard, from their elevated positions, or simply walk away with disdain.
Everything was so peaceful that it almost made him uneasy, even to the point of wanting to yawn.
Unable to access any core secrets or hear even the slightest useful intelligence, Li Ziao grew secretly anxious.
If things continued like this, by the time his one-month punishment ended, he feared he would not even have caught a glimpse of the person who had framed Lord Yuexi, let alone uncovered the truth.
Yet he did not dare make casual inquiries.
Lan Ningcheng’s icy warning from that day still rang in his ears. If he were caught speaking carelessly again and summoned to the chief steward’s office, he might be bundled up and sent back to the Jingbei Marquis’s household before the month was even over.
By then, his father and elder brother would not even bother sparing him a glance. They would merely sneer and mock him with a remark that would come as no surprise at all.
He was certainly reckless, but he had nevertheless come from a military background and possessed an instinctive sensitivity to his surroundings.
After several days of faithfully patrolling his assigned area, he had naturally memorized the terrain and routes within his jurisdiction.
The general layout of the front courtyard of Prince Yi’s residence was not complicated. It mainly consisted of the gatehouse, guard quarters, stables, front courtyard, council hall, reception hall, storerooms, and accounting office.
Among these, the storerooms and accounting office were restricted areas with tight security. When patrolling, guards were permitted only to walk along the outer perimeter and were absolutely forbidden from crossing the boundary. The council hall and reception hall, meanwhile, had to be approached only according to regulations, with an appropriate distance maintained during shift changes and patrols.
If he wanted to stretch his muscles and spar with the guards, he had to pass through the ceremonial gate and head to a small training ground beside the eastern courtyard.
The ceremonial gate was the second checkpoint within Prince Yi’s residence. Beyond it lay the main courtyard, where Xiao Ying’s living quarters were located, and the western courtyard, which housed Chief Steward Lan Ningcheng’s office and resting quarters. These areas could be considered the most restricted places in the entire residence.
Fortunately, Lan Ningcheng had previously relented and allowed him to visit the small training ground to spar with the other guards. The conditions were that he had to be accompanied by guards on the same shift, that he was strictly forbidden from acting alone, and that he must never take even a single step into any area beyond the training ground.
Li Ziao took advantage of this rule and frequently dragged the guards over to spar with him.
On the one hand, as a military officer by background, he was accustomed to tempering his body and practicing martial arts every day. On the other hand, he also hoped that by walking around more and observing his surroundings, he might discover some clues at the edges of the restricted areas.
On this particular day, his shift ended as the sun was setting, casting a layer of orange-gold afterglow over the sweeping eaves and flying corners of the prince’s residence.
Li Ziao changed into casual clothes along with several guards he had grown familiar with. As usual, they passed through the ceremonial gate after the required inspection and headed toward the small training ground in the eastern courtyard.
The training ground was not large, with enough space for only a dozen or so people to practice simultaneously. Nevertheless, it was fully equipped with weapon racks, archery targets, and straw dummies for martial training, and its layout was clean and orderly.
Unexpectedly, the moment they stepped into the training ground, the guard leading the group abruptly stopped.
Li Ziao had been lost in his own thoughts and failed to stop in time. His nose collided squarely with the broad, hard back of the guard in front of him, and a sharp pain shot up the bridge of his nose.
“Why did you stop—”
Li Ziao rubbed his nose, about to grumble, but the moment he raised his eyes, the words caught in his throat.
At this hour, there were usually several guards with free time practicing archery or sparring with one another. Now, however, several people stood silently at the edge of the training ground, not one of them uttering a sound.
And in the very center of the training ground stood a slender yet upright figure.
A flash of snowy light burst from a long saber, its blade gleaming as it tore through the tranquility of dusk.
Li Ziao looked at the person’s back and did not recognize him at first.
The man wore a neat, narrow-sleeved martial outfit. His raven-black hair was tied high into a ponytail, which swayed through the air as the long saber in his hands rose and fell, tracing graceful arcs.
It was only when the man spun around, directing the blade along an unexpected angle and revealing the outline of his profile, that Li Ziao suddenly realized—
It was Xiao Ying.
Having shed the elaborate, luxurious robes with their wide sleeves that he usually wore as a member of the imperial family, Xiao Ying appeared even taller and more slender.
The extravagance and languor of a pampered imperial noble had vanished. The Xiao Ying before him was like a sharp blade freshly drawn from its sheath.
Li Ziao was deeply astonished.
On the several occasions he had met Xiao Ying in the past, the other man had always carried a folding fan, appearing leisurely and carefree. Every gesture had reflected the refined elegance of a frail nobleman. He had never imagined that this seemingly indolent prince was skilled in saber techniques.
What caught his attention even more, however, was the saber in Xiao Ying’s hands.
The long saber gleamed with a cold arc of light beneath the setting sun. Its blade patterns resembled frost and snow, and the blade itself curved slightly, with a thin, sharp single edge. The hilt was somewhat long and wrapped in deep purple cord, clearly designed for a two-handed grip. The scabbard was made of black ebony, with plain silver fittings at the mouth and tip—understated yet exquisitely crafted.
Li Ziao’s brows drew together slightly.
This was neither the straight-bladed long saber commonly used in Great Sheng’s army nor the ordinary waist saber favored by military officers.
He had heard of this type of weapon in military treatises and from veteran generals, but had rarely seen one in actual use within the army.
The blade curved, with a single sharpened edge and a two-handed grip. Its slashing power was fierce, but it was not as suitable for thrusting as a straight-bladed saber.
The military emphasized standardized equipment and ease of training. This weapon followed its own distinct style, and training with it would naturally require considerable time and effort. As such, it would not be included in the regular training of ordinary soldiers.
The way Xiao Ying held the saber also differed from the techniques commonly used by Great Sheng’s military officers.
His right hand was above his left, both hands gripping the middle section of the hilt. His thumbs hooked around the wrapping, while his palms rested against the ebony handle. This was the grip used in Japanese swordsmanship, completely different from the single-handed saber techniques customary in Great Sheng’s army.
In the eyes of a military officer like Li Ziao, who had been born into a family of generals and experienced the realities of warfare, the strengths and weaknesses of this weapon were immediately apparent.
Its curve made it well suited for slashing. As the blade fell, the force flowed along its arc, allowing the wielder to make better use of momentum than with a straight-bladed saber.
But its weaknesses were equally obvious. It was less flexible for thrusting, could be constrained in tightly packed formations, and required the wielder to learn an entirely different set of techniques from scratch, unlike the saber styles commonly used in the military.
If he were on a battlefield, he would not choose this kind of weapon.
And yet, Xiao Ying had chosen it.
Li Ziao unconsciously stopped in his tracks, suppressing his astonishment as he watched intently.
In the eyes of a military officer like Li Ziao, born into a family of generals and seasoned by the realities of war, Xiao Ying’s saber skills were naturally far from unparalleled.
Although his forms were precise and disciplined, his footwork was somewhat light. It was elegant, but lacked the bloodthirsty aura of a decisive killing blow in actual combat. If he encountered a top-tier martial artist or a trained death warrior, he would probably be able to manage only a few moves of self-defense.
Nevertheless, Xiao Ying’s saber technique was clean.
Beneath the setting sun, the blade flashed like splashing water scattering into blossoms. Every slash and cut followed a clear, disciplined pattern.
Then, his figure suddenly turned. Like a flying swallow skimming the surface of the water, he sprang from the ground, and the long saber in his hand transformed into a streak of cold light, heading straight for the thick straw dummy in the center of the training ground.
“Whoosh!”
The strike was precise.
The sound of the blade cutting through the air rang out as its edge passed accurately across the dummy’s neck, without the slightest hesitation or uncertainty. There was a cold decisiveness to the movement.
His strength and control were perfectly measured, just enough to sever the straw ropes without damaging the wooden frame behind them.
In the next instant, the dummy’s head broke free and rolled heavily onto the sandy ground.
The saber was sheathed. The wind fell still.
Li Ziao watched the severed straw head lying on the ground. Something stirred slightly in his heart, and he instinctively raised his hands and gave a light round of applause.
The crisp clapping sounded particularly clear in the silent training ground.
Xiao Ying slowly sheathed his saber. A faint metallic chime rang out as he finished his daily practice.
He gently exhaled, steadying his slightly quickened breathing, and only then turned toward the direction of the applause.
In fact, he had already noticed the commotion the moment the group entered the training ground, but he had remained focused on completing the final set of saber movements.
“I never expected Your Highness to be skilled in saber techniques,” Li Ziao said, cupping his fists as he stepped forward a few paces. His eyes held a new measure of scrutiny as he spoke in a clear voice. “And you even use this kind of saber.”
Xiao Ying’s usual signature, leisurely smile returned to his face.
“It is merely a bit of exercise to strengthen the body. Compared with the bold, sweeping movements of a young general who has shed blood on the battlefield, my meager skills are nothing more than showing off before an expert.”
“Your Highness’s saber is rarely seen in the military.” Li Ziao’s gaze fell upon the ebony scabbard at Xiao Ying’s waist. “I have read about it in military treatises and heard veteran generals speak of it, but I have never seen anyone use one in person. This style of swordsmanship follows its own path, and it takes a great deal of time to master.”
Xiao Ying raised an eyebrow slightly, apparently not expecting him to speak so frankly about the saber’s origins.
“Young General Li certainly knows his weapons.” Xiao Ying lowered his head to glance at the saber at his waist, his tone casual. “Back then, I simply wanted to try something new. I studied it for several years and managed to become passable at it.”
“Just to try something new?”
Li Ziao looked at him. He did not quite believe that explanation.
To practice such an uncommon saber style to the point where the blade could pass through a target’s neck without damaging the wooden frame behind it was not something that could be dismissed with the words “just trying something new.”
A servant hurriedly brought over a clean, snow-white cloth. Xiao Ying accepted it and calmly wiped away the fine sheen of sweat on his forehead.
The setting sun cast its slanting light across his profile, coating his already handsome features in a warm golden glow that made him seem almost unreal. His slightly damp strands of hair clung to his forehead, giving him an unusual intensity.
Watching this scene, Li Ziao found himself momentarily lost in thought.
In their previous encounters, he had regarded Xiao Ying as nothing more than a wealthy prince who possessed a handsome face, relied on his power, and indulged himself in pleasure.
Only now did he realize that what he had seen before might have been merely the shallow tip of an iceberg that this residence, and this man, had deliberately presented to the world.
What kind of calculations lay beneath this seemingly frail man’s exterior?
And what future did he intend to lead Wu Yuexi toward?
Li Ziao could not figure it out.
Xiao Ying straightened his collar and spoke gently.
“Young General Li, have you grown accustomed to your duties at the residence recently?”
Li Ziao gathered his thoughts, straightened his back, and replied, “Thank you for Your Highness’s concern. This subordinate is doing well.”
Xiao Ying nodded slightly. His eyes revealed neither pleasure nor displeasure, and he turned to leave.
“Very good. I shall not disturb you all while you practice your martial arts.”
Seeing that the figure was about to step out of the training ground, Li Ziao clenched his fists. The doubts and dissatisfaction in his heart eventually overwhelmed his reason. He could not help taking a step forward and calling out loudly.
“Your Highness, there is something I have long been unable to understand. Would Your Highness be willing to answer my question?”
Xiao Ying paused.
He turned slightly and quietly regarded Li Ziao for a moment. His deep eyes seemed capable of seeing straight through a person’s heart. Then he smiled gently.
“Ask.”
Li Ziao hesitated for a long while, his Adam’s apple moving up and down, before finally voicing the question that had been circling in his mind for so long.
“Your Highness… what exactly do you regard Lord Yuexi as?”
That day, Xiao Ying had behaved intimately with Lord Yuexi in front of him, treating him with deep affection. Yet the more Li Ziao thought about it, the more something seemed amiss.
If Xiao Ying truly had feelings for Lord Yuexi, why had he only agreed to keep him under his protection for one year back then, rather than spending ten thousand gold to redeem him completely and bring him into Prince Yi’s residence, where he could be protected?
If he had taken the man away from that dangerous place in the first place, the mastermind would have had no opportunity to strike. How, then, could that deadly trap that had nearly cost him his life have occurred?
Li Ziao had even begun to suspect that, from beginning to end, Xiao Ying had merely regarded Lord Yuexi as a pawn to lure the snake from its hole, a bait to draw out the enemy.
Faced with this almost offensive interrogation, Xiao Ying did not become angry. Instead, he smiled faintly.
“Naturally, I regard him as someone I cherish.”
Li Ziao furrowed his brows tightly and pressed on.
“Then why didn’t Your Highness redeem him and protect him under your own wing?”
The smile in Xiao Ying’s eyes did not fade. It was faint and distant.
He turned around and looked at Li Ziao calmly.
“Li Ziao, since you already know his true identity, have you still not properly studied Great Sheng’s laws? Even if I were to offer up ten thousand strings of gold and exhaust every last bit of this residence’s savings, I still could not change the rules recorded in the national registers. The Wu family committed a grave crime back then. As long as that charge remains, Lord Yuexi can only ever remain Lord Yuexi. Moreover, the situation is not as simple as you imagine.”
Li Ziao opened his mouth but was rendered speechless.
He truly had not considered the dangers and legal complications behind the matter.
Xiao Ying looked at him, his voice gentle yet carrying an unshakable conviction.
“Truly caring for someone does not mean breaking their wings, forcibly tying them to your side, and deciding everything for them. Healing their injured wings, removing the shackles from their body, and allowing them to regain the right to choose their own sky—is that not also a form of cherishing them? As for where they wish to fly, that decision should be theirs alone, not something I—or you—get to decide for them.”
Li Ziao fell completely silent.
Every word Xiao Ying had spoken struck deeply at his heart.
He could not distinguish how much of the man’s words was insincere acting for the occasion and how much was a genuine revelation of his feelings.
But this broad-minded yet restrained perspective made him realize, for the first time, the difference between himself and Xiao Ying.
Xiao Ying did not look at Li Ziao again.
He resumed walking away.
As he passed beside Li Ziao, he slowed his steps slightly and left him with a quiet sentence that only the two of them could hear.
“I am merely an idle prince without an army. When a great storm rises, relying on a moment’s passion may not be enough to protect everyone. I can only do what lies within my abilities. If Young General Li truly cares about him, you would do better to think carefully about what you can do and what responsibilities you ought to bear, rather than standing here demanding answers from me.”
With those words, Xiao Ying departed gracefully, his figure disappearing into the shadowy corridor beyond the ceremonial gate.
The evening breeze swept past, stirring the leaves of the trees at the edge of the training ground.
The sun slowly sank beneath the horizon. The final traces of its afterglow faded, and the sky was replaced by a deep, inky blue.
Li Ziao stood alone in the same spot.
His gaze fell upon the straw dummy a few steps away, whose head had been severed with a single stroke. Under the dimming light, the clean cut looked especially cold and harsh.
He recalled the troubles he had caused through his past impulsiveness, his elder brother’s furious reprimands, and Lan Ningcheng’s cold warnings. Then he compared them with Xiao Ying’s calm but piercing words, each of which had struck straight to the heart.
Only at this moment did he finally understand—
Protection was never about charging recklessly forward with nothing but a heart full of passion, much less about possessiveness disguised as certainty.
In the face of overwhelming waves of power, without sufficient strength and strategy, even the deepest affection would be nothing more than a joke that could shatter at any moment.
That day, his elder brother had angrily demanded of him, “What are you going to use to protect him?”
He had grown up with everything going smoothly. Although his father and elder brother were strict with him, they had also indulged him to some extent.
Everyone praised him as “Young General Li,” but they did so merely out of respect for the title of Jingbei Marquis. Their flattery had caused him to lose sight of himself.
He had even become so carried away that he thought himself invincible, capable of accomplishing anything and overcoming every obstacle.
Yet after leaving the protection of the Jingbei Marquis’s household and his father and elder brother, he had neither troops nor authority. He was nothing more than a low-ranking company commander in the capital army.
Amid the overwhelming waves of power, whom could he possibly protect?
Li Ziao drew a deep, cold breath and slowly tightened his grip around the hilt of his saber.
He could not help picturing Lord Yuexi’s figure in his mind.
He had never truly understood the person who had endured the upheaval of having his entire family confiscated and destroyed.
What he had offered him was nothing more than self-righteous protection and reckless enthusiasm.
There were things he wanted to ask him, but they would no longer be empty words of affection or powerless vows and promises.
He simply wanted to know—
Once all these layers of danger and protection were set aside, what was Lord Yuexi truly thinking now?
And where was the sky he longed for?
Perhaps his own abilities were insignificant. But when the waves came crashing down, even if all he could become was a stepping stone for the other man, that would at least make up for the regret he had carried since Lord Yuexi had once sent him three poems, and he had never truly responded to the other man’s feelings even once.
A new determination had already taken root in his heart.
After everything was over, he wanted to hone himself anew. At the very least, in the future, he hoped to gain genuine control over some power of his own, so that he could stand tall and speak to Lord Yuexi without the slightest guilt, proving that the promise he had made back then had never been empty words.
Even if it was already too late.