“That may be so,” Xiao Chiye lowered his eyes, “but the man directly responsible for the front-line outcome was Shen Wei.”
His lowered gaze made his eyes seem unusually tender. The lingering light glimmered in them, like fireflies dancing in the depth of night.
Shen Zechuan studied him for a moment before saying, “The Ministry of War hasn’t seen personnel changes these past years.”
“Then investigate, if you wish,” Xiao Chiye said. “I won’t stop you.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Shen Zechuan shifted his gaze back to the books. “Because you want to investigate too. The most suspicious would be the Hua family—but Shen Wei was already a compromised piece. There were hundreds of simpler ways to deal with him. Raising an army so openly would only leave traces.”
“You killed Ji Lei,” Xiao Chiye smiled. “He probably told you a lot. No need to hoard secrets—let’s guess together.”
“I already know what you said,” Shen Zechuan replied, gently withdrawing his hand. “But what I say is mine alone. That’s a different weight entirely.”
Xiao Chiye considered a moment, then said, “How about this: we trade.”
“Fair enough,” Shen Zechuan replied, “but you go first.”
Using his height advantage, Xiao Chiye cornered him by the bookshelves, casually flipping through pages. “You don’t know the rules. Secrets should be whispered.”
Leaning forward, Shen Zechuan said, “Whispered doesn’t mean sticking faces together.”
“What if someone’s listening?” Xiao Chiye put the book back, propping an arm, and smiled. “After all, I just bought this courtyard. I don’t know it inside-out yet—best to be careful.”
“Xiao Er,” Shen Zechuan muttered, eyes on the books, “you really are a scoundrel.”
“Indeed,” Xiao Chiye said. “So what? Time to speak.”
Shen Zechuan waited a while, hearing nothing, and noticed Xiao Chiye still watching him.
Their breaths mingled before Xiao Chiye finally spoke: “Shen Wei didn’t self-immolate. The fire at Prince Jianxing’s mansion was set by the Jinyiwei. Ji Lei personally carried the order. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know,” Shen Zechuan said calmly. “That’s not a secret.”
“Then do you know the real reason Duanzhou fell?” Xiao Chiye asked.
Shen Zechuan couldn’t look away. He had to think fast—any lapse could play right into Xiao Chiye’s trap.
“When Cha Shi River was attacked,” Shen Zechuan said, “Shen Wei ordered Duanzhou’s garrison to retreat, leaving the heir, Shen Zhouji, to support Cha Shi. Shen Zhouji was no better than his father—he abandoned the soldiers, fled with his bodyguards, and was dragged to his death by the Biansha cavalry along the official road. With Zhouji dead, Cha Shi’s morale collapsed. After the troops were slaughtered, the front lines of Duanzhou were empty.”
“Correct,” Xiao Chiye said, “but you don’t know one thing: before Shen Zhouji died, he and Shen Wei strangled the commander of Duanzhou’s garrison, Dantai Long.”
Dantai Long… Dantai Hu!
No wonder Dantai Hu said his own brother was in the Cha Shi pit.
Shen Zechuan frowned. “Strangled?”
“Dantai Long insisted on marching to meet the enemy, repeatedly opposing Shen Wei in public. When Shen Wei’s retreat order was issued, he refused. Shen Wei feigned apology over drinks, and together with Shen Zhouji, strangled him in his room,” Xiao Chiye paused, “Tiger didn’t know—he thought Dantai Long died in battle. That’s the first secret. Your turn.”
Shen Zechuan quickly gathered his thoughts. “Shen Wei was involved in the succession struggle. He killed for the Empress Dowager and was thereafter closely monitored. Sensing danger, he bribed Pan Rugui and went to Zhongbo.”
“Watchdogs aren’t easily moved,” Xiao Chiye said. “Ordinarily, the Hua family wouldn’t take such a risky approach. It benefits the Empress Dowager little. Postwar silver requirements already exceeded the imperial treasury. She wanted to remain behind the curtain as retired Empress—losing more herself. Shen Wei wasn’t worth it.”
Shen Zechuan nodded slightly. “So Ji Lei might not have told the whole truth. He was just a pawn. To investigate, one must start from the Ministry of War. From there, everything is possible.”
“I’ll check above, you below,” Xiao Chiye said.
“Everything is interconnected,” Shen Zechuan replied. He realized Xiao Chiye was teasing him and pretended to focus on the books.
Xiao Chiye smiled, stepping aside. “Sit.”
The room was warm. Xiao Chiye wore a bright red embroidered robe with a lion motif. Now Qu City’s actual second-rank military governor, he must have come straight from the palace, without time to change. Sitting there, his features seemed sharper, the previous frivolous air gone.
Across the table, Xiao Chiye watched Shen Zechuan reading. He no longer restrained himself; his attention drifted past Shen Zechuan’s neck to his hands. He wanted to see all of him.
Shen Zechuan’s fingers curled slightly as he turned pages. It reminded Xiao Chiye of other moments when Shen Zechuan’s fingers would grip a quilt, sweaty and trembling.
Shen Zechuan felt his fingers as if being toyed with in someone’s palm, and a sudden restlessness rose. He closed the book, staring directly at Xiao Chiye.
“Hmm?” Xiao Chiye prompted.
Shen Zechuan curled his fingers slightly and tugged at his lip. “The Imperial Guards have been busy lately. Likely no time to investigate anything else.”
Xiao Chiye twirled his counting beads. “Busy is temporary. If the Jinyiwei have time, they can assist our guards too.”
“I’m just a soldier, no rank, no emperor’s favor. How could I control the Jinyiwei?” Shen Zechuan leaned back. “The guards manage Qu City patrols and private imperial cases—every task requires caution. You, as governor, must toil endlessly.”
Xiao Chiye nodded. He heard the hint in Shen Zechuan’s words and intertwined his fingers, placing them opposite Shen Zechuan’s. “You’re trying to give me trouble.”
“One hand for another,” Shen Zechuan said gently. “You blocked my duty shift, gave me leisure—I naturally must thank you.”
“There are many ways to repay,” Xiao Chiye said. “Why not pick one we both enjoy? Seems your friends in the six ministries are helpful.”
“Friends in court trump wealth at home. One shared something with me—I suppose you’d be interested too,” Shen Zechuan said.
Xiao Chiye stared. “Go on, I’m listening.”
Shen Zechuan looked around the study. “Too bad, I’ve never met this ‘untouched jade,’ Yao Wenyu. You’re close?”
Xiao Chiye said, “Acquaintances. Not like you.”
“The Yao family wanes, yet still among the Eight Great Houses. Some must resent them,” Shen Zechuan said. “Yao Wenyu inherited the Haige legacy but didn’t serve in office. Like discarding a weapon—easy pickings.”
“Even if they appear diminished, the three-generation residual influence remains. Yao Wenyu is pure, but not foolish. Who’d trouble the Yao family?” Xiao Chiye asked.
Shen Zechuan reflected. “How should I know?”
Xiao Chiye was silent, then remarked, “You’re generous, giving me information. Yet it unsettles me, Lanzhou.”
“We investigate together. I won’t refuse assistance where I can,” Shen Zechuan said. “Seeing you well with the Yao family, I remembered this. The Eight Houses have stood long. Now you’re prominent—they’ll act. If Yao resists collusion, naturally they become targets.”
Xiao Chiye had seized the Eight Camps, disrupting the Eight Houses’ military positions. Losing a post is minor—they still had sons to replace it—but losing the camps meant real vulnerability. Each house constrained by Xiao Chiye, unified against him.
Shen Zechuan was correct—but Xiao Chiye still sensed something unusual beneath his apparent honesty.
“I haven’t threatened them so far,” Xiao Chiye said calmly.
“Precaution is the long game. You revealed yourself during the autumn hunt. Pretending nothing happened is self-deception,” Shen Zechuan said.
Xiao Chiye suddenly asked, “Who’s your friend?”
Shen Zechuan smiled. “I’ll tell you truthfully—do you trust me?”
Xiao Chiye’s eyes darkened. He didn’t.
Shen Zechuan excelled at misdirection. Every sober word carried half-truths. Hard to handle. Xiao Chiye even thought him easier in bed.
“I’ll find out,” Xiao Chiye leaned closer. “Any trace you leave won’t escape me.”
“You should focus on yourself first,” Shen Zechuan said playfully. “Better survive before worrying about others.”
“You show no concern at all,” Xiao Chiye said suddenly, voice softening. “One night of husband and wife, yet so cold, Lanzhou.”
Shen Zechuan mimicked his earlier tone. “Yes… so what?”
Xiao Chiye leaned back, resting his legs, pondering. “This is easy. Not a big matter. Thanks for tonight’s reminder.”
“Then how can I refuse?” Shen Zechuan smiled. “A hundred taels is worth it.”
“No money,” Xiao Chiye stretched the words. “A second-rank official earns 150 taels a year. But if no money, other exchanges suffice. Second Master, warm my bed.”
“No need,” Shen Zechuan said politely. “I’m used to sleeping alone.”
“Habits can change,” Xiao Chiye teased, sniffing in front of his nose. “You’ve grown accustomed to my handkerchief, haven’t you?”
Shen Zechuan inadvertently pressed his fingertip, leaving a red mark.
Xiao Chiye studied the beauty under the lamp, noting her feigned composure and reddened finger. Pointing to his own ear, he teased, “Lanzhou… the flush has arrived.”