Xiao Chiye seemed to have already forgotten last night’s lapse. He spurred his horse through the main streets, earning a chorus of complaints from the vendors on both sides. When he reached the palace gates, he happened to see the carriage from his own prince’s residence.
Zhaohui lifted the curtain for Xiao Fangxu and said, “Second Young Master is here.”
Xiao Fangxu braced a hand on his knee and leaned out to look. His gaze passed over his younger son and landed on Shen Zechuan behind him, whose riding skills were clearly unpolished. He paused, but said nothing. Only when Xiao Chiye drew close, and Xiao Fangxu noticed the injury on his face, did he ask, “What were you up to last night?”
“Drinking,” Xiao Chiye said as he reined in his horse. He grinned, holding the riding crop. “Lost track of time. By the time I woke up, it was already late. Father, are things finished?”
Xiao Fangxu nodded and said, “Is that Shen Wei’s son?”
The autumn wind suddenly rushed at them, brushing past Shen Zechuan’s temple. Meeting Xiao Fangxu’s gaze, Shen Zechuan inexplicably felt a shiver run through him. His fingers tightened uncomfortably around the reins.
But Xiao Fangxu did nothing.
The old Wolf King of Libei had streaks of white in his hair. Even now, seated low in the carriage, his extraordinary size and imposing build were unmistakable. The aura that enveloped him was not something cultivated overnight—it was authority forged in mountains of corpses and seas of blood, a power tempered into bone and marrow, so strong that even “illness” could not conceal it.
Xiao Chiye’s heaven-blessed physique was entirely inherited from his father: his terrifying arm strength, exceptional height, broad shoulders and back, and long legs explosive with power—every bit of it was a gift from Xiao Fangxu.
Compared to the more gentle, refined Xiao Jiming, Xiao Chiye was the true wolf cub. When the brothers stood together, at a glance the one with the sharper, more aggressive presence was unquestionably Xiao Chiye.
And now, as the real Wolf King looked at Shen Zechuan, Shen Zechuan—who had already learned restraint—felt a powerful urge to flee.
This was completely different from being pinned down by Xiao Chiye. This gaze made one tremble without realizing it.
At this moment, Shen Zechuan recalled the words of Grand Tutor Qi.
“Now Xiao Fangxu has withdrawn due to illness, and Xiao Jiming’s brilliance stands out. Everyone fears Xiao Jiming. But Lanzhou, twenty years ago, the one who truly stabilized the frontier was Xiao Fangxu. By today’s reckoning, Qi Shiyu is commander-in-chief of the five commanderies, clearly holding greater authority, yet he was never enfeoffed as a prince. That is because Qidong is ‘land granted for princely fiefs’—the five commanderies are all founding territory of Great Zhou. Libei is different. Libei’s vast lands today, stretching from Luoxia Pass all the way to the end of the Hongyan Mountains in the northeast, were taken inch by inch by Xiao Fangxu and the Libei Iron Cavalry during the Yongyi era!”
“The Libei Iron Cavalry is now commanded by Xiao Jiming—‘iron horses and icy rivers,’ how imposing. But this elite force was also created by Xiao Fangxu. The Libei Iron Cavalry does not have the long history of the border garrisons. It was a heavy cavalry formed by Xiao Fangxu specifically to smash the enemy after the frontier sand cavalry repeatedly attacked Luoxia Pass during the Yongyi years. The warhorses of Libei, the soldiers of Libei, the chain-linked steel sabers of Libei—every insignia you see today on the Libei Iron Cavalry comes from Xiao Fangxu.”
“The Eight Great Clans have entrenched themselves for a long time; they are a cancer clinging to the bones of Great Zhou. The Xiao family can stand toe-to-toe with the Hua family because Xiao Fangxu firmly holds Libei. As long as Xiao Fangxu lives, the Xiao family is a towering tree rooted in Libei. The title ‘Wolf King’ is by no means undeserved.”
Xiao Chiye turned his head and said, “…He is Shen Wei’s son.”
Shen Zechuan dismounted and saluted Xiao Fangxu.
Xiao Fangxu looked at him for a long while, then said, “Shen Wei is dead. A child is innocent. Since the late emperor let you out, that was a pardon of your crime. Why are you following this brat?”
Shen Zechuan went down on one knee, lowered his head, and said, “This subordinate has been assigned to serve in the Embroidered Uniform Guard and is currently attached to the Imperial Guard, awaiting the Governor’s orders.”
“So that’s how it is.” Xiao Fangxu looked at Xiao Chiye. “Why are you making things difficult for him?”
Xiao Chiye licked the cut inside his mouth and said, “How would I make things difficult for him? We’re brothers who’ve staked our lives together now. Right, Lanzhou?”
Xiao Fangxu no longer looked at Shen Zechuan and began chatting idly with Xiao Chiye.
Propping himself on one knee, Shen Zechuan saw, reflected in a puddle on the ground, Xiao Chiye’s unrestrained smile—and Xiao Fangxu’s gaze resting on his son.
Raindrops splashed, scattering the reflection.
Shen Zechuan withdrew his eyes.
When Xiao Jiming came out, Xiao Fangxu had already left. Qi Zhuyin walked with him for a few steps, then suddenly asked, “Who is that?”
Xiao Jiming glanced toward Zhaohui’s side, his expression unchanged. “That is Shen Zechuan.”
Qi Zhuyin stopped short, clearly surprised. “Shen Wei’s son? Why is he following Aye?”
Xiao Jiming said, “Aye has a playful streak. He’s probably giving him a hard time.”
Qi Zhuyin watched for a long while and said, “That face is far too striking. I heard his mother was a dancer from Duanzhou—fortunately a Duanzhou dancer, not a Cang Commandery dancer.”
Marshal Qi Shiyu was famously fond of beauty; once he saw a beauty, he could not move on. Although Qi Zhuyin had few siblings, her household was filled with countless concubines.
“Speaking of which,” Qi Zhuyin turned slightly, “Aye is already twenty-three, isn’t he? Why hasn’t he married yet?”
“Yizhi is anxious for him as well,” Xiao Jiming said. “Libei doesn’t require him to marry a noble lady. A woman of ordinary background and clean origins would do. Yizhi sends portraits to Que Capital every year, picking through all the daughters of Libei for him, but he has never taken a liking to any of them.”
Qi Zhuyin laughed. “Noble ladies are too proud to play with him. Ordinary girls are too timid—just standing near him scares them half to death. And with that temperament of his, how many girls could handle it? Looking for mutual affection—I’d say it’s harder than climbing to the heavens. Besides, he loves prowling the pleasure quarters. Keep an eye on him—don’t let him one day actually bring a courtesan home.”
Xiao Jiming knew that all of her stepmothers were famous courtesans from Qidong, constantly quarreling in the inner courtyard, giving her headaches whenever she returned home. Since childhood, she had been particularly averse to courtesans.
“If he really meets someone he likes,” Xiao Jiming thought of it and wanted to sigh again, rubbing his temples, “who could stop him? You couldn’t drag him back even with ten oxen.”
“Plan ahead,” Qi Zhuyin said after some thought. “Everything else can be overlooked, but her temperament must not be too fierce. Your Yizhi is gentle by nature—if he brings back someone with a fiery temper, wouldn’t Yizhi suffer every day?”
“It’s all still up in the air,” Xiao Jiming suddenly laughed. “Too early to say.”
“Fate is the hardest thing to predict,” Qi Zhuyin laughed as well. “Who knows—he might wake up to it one day.”
Xiao Chiye suddenly felt a chill run down his back. He turned around warily and saw Shen Zechuan standing beside Zhaohui, lost in thought.
“Later, go to the Imperial Guard office and collect your waist token,” Xiao Chiye stepped in front of Shen Zechuan, blocking the light. “Before the final transfer order for the Embroidered Uniform Guard comes down, you’ll be with me day and night.”
“Day and night.” Shen Zechuan repeated the phrase, lifting his head to look at him. “Does that mean I’ll also be carrying the night chamber pot for Second Young Master?”
“If you want to, that works too.” Xiao Chiye took a step closer. “I’ve been busy these days. I’ll be staying at the residence behind the Imperial Guard offices.”
Shen Zechuan did not answer.
Xiao Chiye had already turned away to meet Xiao Jiming.
The Court of Judicial Review’s reexamination was not yet finished, but the Hua and Pan residences were confiscated first. Li Jianheng seized the opportunity and, citing the Empress Dowager’s “grave anxiety,” sealed off the Palace of Benevolent Mercy where she resided.
The Libei military funds were scraped together into a round sum, barely making up the shortfall. Xiao Fangxu and Xiao Jiming could not stay long and departed again within days.
Xiao Chiye showed no particular reluctance. After that drunken night, it was as if he had cast aside the ambitions he’d displayed during the autumn hunt. Li Jianheng occasionally rewarded him with gifts, and he accepted them each time with great delight.
More than that, he began to slack off. The Imperial Guard originally bore critical patrol duties, but he worked three days and loafed two, often disappearing altogether. Gradually, murmurs arose within the Ministry of War, and a movement to replace him began.
But Li Jianheng absolutely refused. He even resorted to rolling around and throwing tantrums, nearly falling out with the Vice Minister of War who submitted the memorial.
He tossed the memorial aside and said, “Xiao Ce’an saved the emperor—how could he not deserve the post of Imperial Guard Governor? He hasn’t bungled anything. I won’t replace him!”
The two of them returned to their old ways from before the autumn hunt. Li Jianheng felt much more at ease. That version of Xiao Chiye from that night felt like someone imagined; this unrestrained one was the brother he knew.
Xiao Chiye did not bring up returning to Libei, and Li Jianheng was secretly delighted. He took this as fraternal consideration—what could he do otherwise? Staying in Que Capital was just as fun! Now that he was emperor, with this relationship, couldn’t Xiao Chiye do whatever he pleased?
Besides, what was there to do in Libei? That bitterly cold land—how could it compare to the comfort and leisure of Que Capital?
When Xiao Chiye wanted to ride horses outside the city, Li Jianheng approved. When Xiao Chiye wanted to expand the Imperial Guard compound, Li Jianheng approved. When Xiao Chiye wanted to work half the day and idle the other half, Li Jianheng not only approved—he approved with great enthusiasm.
With nothing to do, the two of them played horse polo. Li Jianheng could not go slumming on East Dragon Street, but he could summon Xiao Chiye to listen to pipa music together. Mu Ru lived in the Hall of Bright Principle. Li Jianheng had originally thought Xiao Chiye would offer a few words of remonstrance, but Xiao Chiye said nothing at all and enjoyed himself along with him.
Being emperor was damned comfortable!
When the last rain of the season fell in Que Capital, Xi Gu’an was sentenced to beheading by the Court of Judicial Review. Xi Hongxuan, having scattered wealth to plead his guilt, instead won Li Jianheng’s favor and was transferred to the Ministry of Revenue, landing a middling post. He was already skilled at amusement; now he suited Li Jianheng even more, spending his days telling him how to play.
As soon as Xi Gu’an was sentenced, Hua Siqian bit off his tongue and committed suicide in prison. His testimony took full responsibility for the crimes, not touching the Empress Dowager at all. Only Ji Lei and Pan Rugui remained unjudged. Hai Liangyi wanted to pry open their mouths, but never succeeded.
The room was damp when Shen Zechuan returned. As soon as he opened the door, he saw an eastern pearl pressed down on the table. He closed the door, picked up the pearl, and then heard Chenyang knock.
He opened the door. Chenyang said, “The Governor wants you.”
Shen Zechuan held the eastern pearl in his palm, the cloth damp. He said naturally, “I’ll change my clothes and go.”
“No need,” Chenyang said. “Go just like this. The Governor doesn’t have the patience to wait.”
He stepped aside, indicating they would go together. Shen Zechuan had no choice but to lower his hand, step out the door, and leave with Chenyang.
Xiao Chiye was already wearing a cloak. Seeing Shen Zechuan, he said, “Carry your blade. You’re coming out with me.”
When Shen Zechuan stepped outside and Xiao Chiye took hold of the reins, he realized Chenyang had not followed.
Xiao Chiye mounted his horse. The gyrfalcon shook the water from its feathers and landed on his shoulder. Shen Zechuan could only follow him. The horses left the city, braving the rain toward the Maple Mountain training grounds.
At the grounds, it was empty. Xiao Chiye untied Langtao Xuejin’s reins, gave it a pat, and let it run off on its own. Mengfei flew under the eaves, refusing to be rained on.
“Take off your clothes.” Xiao Chiye turned around, undoing his cloak as he spoke to Shen Zechuan.
Shen Zechuan held his blade and lifted his chin. Water streamed down his front, exposing that pale, tender neck.
Xiao Chiye felt that seeing Shen Zechuan’s neck was like seeing a cat—people couldn’t help wanting to rub it a few times.
What kind of strange habit was this?
Thinking that, he stripped off even his outer robe. Seeing that Shen Zechuan did not move, he urged again, “What are you standing there for? Hurry up and take them off!”
Shen Zechuan raised a finger to his belt, glanced at him, and said slowly, “If I take them off, there won’t be anything left.”