In the dim light, Xiao Chiye wiped the corner of his lips with his thumb. There was still a trace of wine there. He said, “One kick each. Neither of us loses.”
Shen Zechuan turned back to look at him.
Xiao Chiye broke into a grin at Shen Zechuan. “Let’s keep accounts separate. When we go out in the future, won’t you still step on me? Go on, Lan Zhou. I’ll collect it all back—with interest.”
Shen Zechuan licked the spot he had bitten, wetting it with the tip of his tongue, and said, “You don’t get chances like that every time.”
Xiao Chiye stepped closer, completely shrouding him in his shadow. “And you don’t get away every time either.”
After speaking, Xiao Chiye reached out and plucked the red plum blossom beside Shen Zechuan. He crushed the petals in his palm and sent that red into his mouth. Under his gaze, Shen Zechuan had the illusion that he himself was that red plum. Beyond Xiao Chiye’s appraisal of him as having “a keen sense of smell,” Shen Zechuan silently added another trait—“set on his prey.”
Shen Zechuan had once thought desire would defeat Xiao Chiye, make him falter and retreat. Instead, Xiao Chiye’s response was unexpected. His wild arrogance allowed him only to charge forward; any retreat was merely preparation for a better attack next time.
He was a raging flood, a ferocious beast.
“Light the lamps,” Xiao Chiye said, turning his head to call out.
Moments later, the maids pushed the door open. They moved aside the small screen, cleared away the cold remnants of the meal, laid out mats on the carpet, and replaced the table with a waist-high, horsehoof-legged tea table. Chen Yang came in after changing shoes, placed the Imperial Guard military affairs and personnel rosters on the table, took the teapot from a maid, and knelt to the side to pour tea for the two of them.
With others present, when they sat down again, both were the very picture of upright gentlemen.
Shen Zechuan was halfway sobered. The wind had blown away the earlier warmth and haze. Yet a flush still lingered on his face, veiled in the soft lamplight. Even Chen Yang did not dare raise his eyes to look at him, fearing that a stray glance might be taken as offense and displease both Shen Zechuan and Xiao Chiye.
As Chen Yang poured the tea, he thought: no wonder Dantai Hu was worried. Shen Lanzhou was clearly born with the looks to bring ruin to a country, and with such a temperament to match—anyone even slightly familiar with their master would be wary.
What did Xiao Chiye like most?
Breaking horses and hardening hawks. When hardening a hawk, the bird does not sleep, and neither does Xiao Chiye. The harder it is to tame, the more he cherishes it; the harder it is to endure, the more he favors it. Back when he fought the Biansha cavalry, the reason he could lie in wait for so long was precisely because he loved the process of subduing and tormenting. He inherited Xiao Fangxu’s blood, born with a conquering desire beyond ordinary men—this was what most distinguished him from Xiao Jiming.
Chen Yang presented the tea, gave a slight bow, said, “If the master has further instructions,” and then withdrew. He changed back into his boots and stood guard outside.
On the roof, Gu Jin lowered his head and tossed Chen Yang a wineskin, asking with his eyes how things were inside.
Chen Yang let out a slow breath. “…Nothing. The master knows his limits.”
Ding Tao was still clutching his head, muttering, “Am I going to die, die, die, die…”
“I’d say it’s touch and go,” Qiao Tianya squatted in the snow, pulled out his smoking pipe, and laughed loudly. “This time next year, brother will remember to burn paper offerings for you.”
Ding Tao was on the verge of tears. He rubbed his hair, glared at them, and accused them, “It’s all your fault! If you hadn’t fought, I wouldn’t have tried to break it up. If I hadn’t tried to break it up, I wouldn’t have fallen. If I hadn’t fallen, I wouldn’t be about to die. I hate you!”
Qiao Tianya focused intently on striking his flint. Gu Jin folded his arms and dozed.
Burning with resentment, Ding Tao pulled out a notebook and wrote furiously, pouring all his rage onto the page, cursing the two of them as the number-one bastards under heaven. At the end, he wiped the corner of his eye, flipped the page, and continued on in a torrent, thoughts flowing like a spring.
Inside the room, fresh tea replaced the old, and the discussion continued.
Xiao Chiye said, “Back to old ground. You said there’s someone hidden in Que Du who can manipulate the Eight Great Houses. I’ve thought about it, and I don’t think it’s likely.”
Shen Zechuan, who had been burned raw in the throat by the medicinal wine, took a few cups of tea before speaking. “You think it’s unlikely because pulling off something like that would be extraordinarily difficult.”
“Exactly,” Xiao Chiye said. “Leaving others aside, even the Empress Dowager wouldn’t submit to being used by someone else.”
“What if she hasn’t even realized it herself?” Shen Zechuan said. “To manipulate the situation, sometimes you don’t need to give orders. A single finger is enough to push the ‘momentum,’ and with it, change many things.”
“You still need to prove that such a person exists,” Xiao Chiye said, looking at him. “…You look hot.”
Shen Zechuan raised a finger to undo his buttons. With a soft click, a button slipped free, and the smooth line of his neck gradually emerged beneath his fingers, stopping above the collarbone. Tiny beads of sweat slid along the curve into the hollow, dampening his fingertips.
“Xi Hongxuan may be an obvious piece on the board, but he’s crucial. Whether this person exists must be confirmed through Xi Hongxuan. That’s why you can’t remove him this time,” Shen Zechuan paused, then added, “And you can’t remove him anyway. He never showed his face in the assassination case. Fuling’s testimony only proves she was coerced. Right now, the person under greatest suspicion is you.”
“Framing me was your idea,” Xiao Chiye said, watching the vanished sweat.
“You’re now close to the Son of Heaven and deeply favored. If you can be stripped of office and sidelined because of this, Xi Hongxuan won’t miss the chance—he’ll surely take advantage of the momentum to seek control over the Eight Camps. Only by drawing them out of their holes can we see where to strike. Besides, His Majesty trusts you. Even if he demotes you, he won’t immediately trust others. After some time, when he sees the Eight Great Houses flaring up again, he’ll realize he, too, has been played in the palm of someone’s hand. He’ll feel guilty toward you, who were innocently implicated, and then look for ways to make it up to you.” Shen Zechuan’s throat bobbed as he drank. “I suspect you’d already thought of countermeasures before you came to find me.”
“Play along,” Xiao Chiye poured him more tea. “I’m just turning their own scheme back on them—letting you all step on me.”
“That’s wiser than striking back now,” Shen Zechuan said. “The more eager you are to clear yourself at this moment, the more suspicious the Emperor will become.”
“I understand His Majesty,” Xiao Chiye said. “He’s soft-eared, easily swayed by others, but he can’t stand being humiliated. I’m his brother, and the first person he brought close after ascending the throne. I’m a symbol he uses when facing the court. If I’m beset from all sides and reduced to livestock penned under his hand, he sees me as having no one to rely on—able to sit steady only because of him. If I’m schemed against and kicked down, he’ll inevitably feel that sense of shared peril. The Flower Faction is his sore spot. The reason he trusts Hai Liangyi to decide state affairs is because he knows Hai Liangyi won’t form a faction.”
“Opportunity won’t come again,” Shen Zechuan said after a moment of thought. “This time, we must make Xi Hongxuan move.”
“I’ll give you a reminder,” Xiao Chiye said, elbow propped on the table, beckoning Shen Zechuan closer.
Shen Zechuan set down his teacup and leaned in.
Xiao Chiye murmured by his ear, “If you can’t hold your liquor, don’t go out drinking with people. Not every bastard has the self-control of Second Young Master here—to sit across from you and behave like a proper gentleman.”
Shen Zechuan cast him a sidelong glance, biting down on his words. “Even proper gentlemen have plenty on their minds.”
Xiao Chiye looked at him and said, “Tomorrow morning, once we walk out that door, you and I will be sworn enemies. Enemies are best at recognizing each other. That I think of you—isn’t that only natural?”
“I don’t think of you,” Shen Zechuan said.
“Every plan you make now goes around me,” Xiao Chiye said. “That’s not not thinking—it’s thinking by day and thinking again by night.”
“If only that kick at the Hundred Officials’ Banquet had landed on you,” Shen Zechuan raised a hand to block Xiao Chiye’s breath. “It might have sobered Second Young Master up.”
Xiao Chiye’s nose rested against Shen Zechuan’s palm. He stared at him and said wickedly, “So heartless, Lan Zhou. Before sleeping with me, you teased me in every way. Afterward, you guard against me at every turn. You faithless rogue, you cold-hearted lover.”
Under his gaze, Shen Zechuan averted his eyes slightly. “…Xiao Er, have you had too much to drink tonight?”
Xiao Chiye abruptly leaned back. “Tomorrow morning in court, someone will surely raise trouble. Kong Qiu will truthfully submit Fuling’s earlier testimony. When that happens, the Censorate will have to pursue my responsibility for lax oversight.”
Shen Zechuan’s palm was empty now. “You need to retreat—but not too obviously.”
“When I’m trapped in a storm of denunciation,” Xiao Chiye said, “we’ll see how His Majesty punishes me.”
“At best, a few months’ suspension of pay; at worst, removal of insignia and reflection at home. The heir is still in Que Du. Everyone will have to give him face—they won’t be excessively harsh with you.”
“My elder brother won’t be in Que Du for long,” Xiao Chiye paused. “Once I’m punished, the marriage between Hua Xiangyi and Qi Shiyu will face no further obstruction.”
“Hua and Qi merging will take time,” Shen Zechuan considered. “Right now, the Grand Marshal of the Qidong Five Prefectures’ forces is Qi Zhuyin. Perhaps we can start with her.”
Xiao Chiye recalled something. “I have a way.”
“What is it?” Shen Zechuan asked.
“The Ministry of Rites has records of past Hua family marriages. I’ll have someone polish them a bit, then give this copied record to Qi Zhuyin. She won’t readily accept Hua Xiangyi.”
“Marriages among distant relatives aren’t taboo in Great Zhou,” Shen Zechuan said. “Even first cousins are acceptable. Would the Grand Marshal care about this?”
“She would,” Xiao Chiye explained. “Everyone knows Qi Shiyu is lustful. He’s taken many beauties from the Qidong Five Prefectures into his residence—one of them is his own niece. Some years ago, this concubine gave birth. The child was born with defects, extremely frail, and was buried only days later. After that, whenever Qi Shiyu took in more women, Qi Zhuyin was especially wary. Anyone with blood ties—even distant—she would not allow through the door.”
“But Hua Xiangyi was personally designated by the Empress Dowager,” Shen Zechuan said. “Even if the Grand Marshal wants to block it, can she?”
“Since it can no longer be blocked, we can only step back a little and let Hua the Third marry,” Xiao Chiye’s eyes were cold. “But she must not bear a child. If she marries Qi Shiyu, she’ll be the successor wife—the legitimate lady of Qidong. If she gives birth, the child would be a legitimate heir, able to stand alongside Qi Zhuyin as of the main line. Qi Zhuyin is a woman; winning over the Qidong Five Prefectures’ troops over these years hasn’t been easy—she’s a true general who has shed blood. But who can guarantee no one will harbor other ambitions? If Hua Xiangyi bears a son, Qi Zhuyin will be dragged into internal strife over military authority. She needs a reason to suppress Hua Xiangyi.”
“I heard the Qi family has sons,” Shen Zechuan said. “Yet back then, Qi Shiyu insisted on giving the position of Grand Marshal to Qi Zhuyin. Wasn’t that out of appreciation for talent?”
“It was,” Xiao Chiye said. “Qi Zhuyin was born of his first wife, and personally trained by him as a military talent. When he had no sons, he raised Qi Zhuyin as a son. Later, when sons were born, not one could compare to her. At the time, Qidong was still at war with Biansha. Qi Shiyu was gravely wounded and unable to command troops, trapped on the eastern side of the Biansha encampment. Several Qi sons were present, yet none dared step forward to take command. It was Qi Zhuyin who strapped on her blade, mounted her horse, and rode through the night—persuading the garrisons of Chi Prefecture, Bian Prefecture, and Suotian Pass to march with her. She then used the wind to set fire, burning the Biansha encampment to the ground. That was her battle of fame. That is why she is now called ‘Wind Leading the Blazing Wilds’—in that battle, she charged first, blade drawn, bathed in flames, and carried Qi Shiyu out on her back. Qi Shiyu had hesitated before, but after that, he immediately handed over the marshal’s seal, giving all five prefectures’ forces to Qi Zhuyin.”
“The investiture of a Grand Marshal requires approval from Que Du,” Shen Zechuan said. “That couldn’t have been easy.”
Xiao Chiye smiled. He stroked the archer’s ring on his thumb. “You would never guess—the one who conferred her title was not Emperor Guangcheng.”
Shen Zechuan tilted his head slightly.
“When the news returned to Que Du, all sides erupted in denunciation. Because Qi Zhuyin was a woman, the Ministry of War questioned the authenticity of her merits and petitioned the Cabinet, demanding that Censorate inspectors and the Embroidered Uniform Guard be dispatched to Qidong for a thorough investigation. Emperor Guangcheng saw the public outrage and delayed approving Qidong’s request. Later, when her merits were verified without fault, the Ministry of Rites memorialized that she could be ennobled—but she could not ascend the Jade Dragon Platform reserved for martial officials. She could only kneel and receive the edict before the steps of the Hall of Bright Principle.”
Xiao Chiye paused for a long while.
“It was the Empress Dowager who overruled all objections and let her step onto the Jade Dragon Platform—openly and uprightly—to receive the title of Grand Marshal of the Qidong forces.”