Heavy snow drifted down; the night was nearing its end.
Shen Zechuan could not stay any longer. When he prepared to leave, Xiao Chiye rose with him, took a cloak from the rack, and handed it over.
“This blade of yours looks unfamiliar,” Xiao Chiye bent to pick up Yangshan Snow. It was light in his hand. “Newly acquired?”
Shen Zechuan nodded, facing the door as he slipped on the cloak.
Xiao Chiye pressed his thumb, letting a sliver of cold gleam show. “A good blade. What’s it called?”
“Yangshan Snow,” Shen Zechuan answered.
“‘Snow from three mountains sprays aloft, waters from a hundred rivers swallowed sidewise.’” Xiao Chiye closed the blade and stepped forward, pressing close against Shen Zechuan’s back. With practiced fingers, he returned Yangshan Snow to Shen Zechuan’s waist. Lowering his head slightly, he said, “Fine looks. A fine name, too.”
Shen Zechuan suddenly turned, but Xiao Chiye was faster, catching his waist and pulling him into his arms.
“After you walk out today, what eyes will you use to look at me?”
“Whatever eyes are called for,” Shen Zechuan said, hastily turning his head back, brushing cheek and temple against him.
“If you can’t hold it anymore,” Xiao Chiye measured the space between his fingers and smiled, “you can always ask your Second Young Master for help.”
“Second Young Master can hardly fend for himself,” Shen Zechuan said. “It’s more likely you’ll be asking me.”
Xiao Chiye released him. “You’re thinner than last time. If I’m not mistaken, you’re still taking medicine to conceal your figure.”
Shen Zechuan finished tying the cloak and said nothing.
“I’ll give you a word of advice,” Xiao Chiye said. “That medicine damages the body if taken too much. In a few years, it’s your own health that’ll be ruined.”
At the threshold, Shen Zechuan sighed softly. “Your master has sharp eyes—one glance and he could tell.”
“For all of this,” Xiao Chiye said, “you’re willing to go that far?”
“My life and death hang on someone else’s whim,” Shen Zechuan said. His hands were very cold. “Of course I have to be careful in everything, deliberate in every step. I’ve trained in the Ji family fist for years. Without this trick, I couldn’t fool Ji Lei’s eyes.”
“Ji Lei is already dead,” Xiao Chiye said.
Shen Zechuan still carried the scent of wine. “I’ve stopped the medicine.”
After Shen Zechuan left, Xiao Chiye stood in the snowy wind and remembered Zuo Qianqiu’s words.
“This medicine came from the east. Drink it and you can feign illness to fool the eye. Once or twice is fine, but over time it becomes a problem. The poison settles in the body. It won’t matter at first, but sooner or later it will flare up.”
“Flare up?”
Zuo Qianqiu gazed at the teacup in his hand. “Toxins accumulate into injury. It won’t heal properly. When the time comes, a person might be ruined.”
Xiao Chiye lifted his hand. The last warmth in his palm was scattered by wind and snow. He recalled that night—how he had almost kneaded Shen Zechuan into softness—yet it seemed he had only warmed him for a brief moment.
Beautiful people always give the illusion of fragility.
Qiao Tianya wore a bamboo hat and drove the carriage toward Shen Zechuan’s old house on East Dragon Street. Shen Zechuan leaned against the carriage wall, eyes closed, resting.
At the gate, Qiao Tianya drew the reins and stopped, lifting the curtain for him. Shen Zechuan bent to step down and went inside to bathe and change.
According to the memorial, Shen Zechuan’s promotion this time was meteoric—he leapt straight to a fifth-rank Embroidered Uniform Guard Zhenfu. But this post was divided into south and north: the Southern Zhenfu Office handled the Guard’s military craftsmen, while the Northern Zhenfu Office controlled the imperial prison. Li Jianheng intended to make use of him, but the civil officials of the Cabinet had their own considerations. Given Shen Zechuan’s background, they were unwilling to let him control the prison. After deliberation, they rejected his appointment to the Northern Zhenfu and reassigned him to the Southern Zhenfu.
Li Jianheng was certainly displeased. To compensate, the Cabinet raised Shen Zechuan’s military rank to full fifth-rank Embroidered Uniform Guard Qianhu. Added to that were the python robe and phoenix belt personally bestowed by Li Jianheng—already an extraordinary honor.
Shen Zechuan had anticipated the Cabinet’s pushback.
He had climbed over Han Cheng’s body to get here. Xue Xiuzhuo honored his promise and promoted him, but kicked him at the critical point to make it clear: even with such merit in saving the Emperor, Shen Zechuan was still far from matching them.
Dressed and ready, Shen Zechuan came out to find Qiao Tianya holding an umbrella. “Master’s been promoted,” Qiao Tianya said. “This place is already cramped. With guests coming and going, it won’t hold.”
“No rush,” Shen Zechuan said as he lifted his robe and boarded the carriage. As the curtain fell, he added, “When I reach Commander, then we can change. It won’t be too late.”
With that, the curtain dropped, and he continued to rest.
The weather was poor today. As officials waited outside the hall, snow dusted their shoulders. They could not move at will, nor make careless gestures, nor speak loudly or even cough.
Shen Zechuan stood with blade at his side behind Han Cheng. The bright red python robe set off his skin like ice and snow. When his eyes curved in a smile, he was lush and arresting, yet beneath the affability lurked a dangerous ferocity.
Xiao Chiye also wore red. The second-rank lion embroidered on his chest made him stand out all the more. He looked uninterested, casting only a sideways glance at Shen Zechuan.
The two stood apart, yet gave the sense of a standoff, drawing even Hai Liangyi’s attention.
The civil officials exchanged looks, each understanding without words.
Before long, Han Cheng said quietly, “Move.”
The hall doors opened. Eunuchs of the Directorate of Ceremonial and the Cabinet ministers entered first. With the Directorate vacant, only the Cabinet ministers, led by Hai Liangyi, went ahead. Han Cheng followed, bringing Shen Zechuan up the steps to stand below the dragon throne on its left.
Li Jianheng rested his hands on his knees atop the throne. “It has been two nights since the assassination attempt. Does the Ministry of Justice have any new progress?”
Minister Kong Qiu stepped out, bowed, and said, “Reporting to Your Majesty, the matter of the Palace Provisioning Bureau female official Fuling instigating Guisheng to assassinate has been conclusively proven. This minister should submit it to the Court of Judicial Review today for reexamination.”
For some reason, Li Jianheng glanced at Xiao Chiye before continuing, “Have you determined why she did this?”
Kong Qiu said, “Upon investigation, Fuling once broke an imperial dish from the Court of Imperial Banquets and was recorded in the files, leaving her departure from the palace indefinitely delayed. She often told others her mother was elderly and she wished to leave the palace to care for her, but palace regulations forbade it. She repeatedly bribed the former supervising scribe of the Directorate of Ceremonial, only to be deceived and lose her life’s savings. Thus malice arose from fear, and she developed thoughts of revenge.”
“This minister has a memorial to present.” Wei Huaixing, Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, stepped forward and bowed. He was the legitimate second son of the Wei clan of the Eight Great Houses, and the elder brother of Consort Wei from the Xian De Emperor’s reign.
“Minister Wei, please speak,” Li Jianheng said.
“This minister has ascertained that the Palace Provisioning Bureau official Fuling once engaged in an exchange of power and sex with Yuan Liu of the Imperial Guard’s Adjudication Office. The residence where her mother lived was negotiated on credit by Yuan Liu himself.” Wei Huaixing looked at no one as he spoke. “This case is primarily handled by the Ministry of Justice. It concerns Your Majesty’s safety and is of the utmost importance, yet Minister Kong only presented half the testimony before the throne. Is there something that cannot be spoken—or someone who cannot be named?”
Kong Qiu turned his head. “…All of this is included in my memorial. How can it be called deception?”
“Morning court is the place for political discussion,” Wei Huaixing raised his head. “His Majesty asked whether it had been clarified, yet before all officials you equivocated, weighing advantage and avoiding harm. As an official, one should be earnest in loyalty when entering service. The court is no place to harbor filth. What are you afraid of? If you won’t say it openly, then I will. Your Majesty, this matter not only concerns the inner palace offices—it concerns the Imperial Guard!”
Xiao Chiye’s expression soured, almost a sneer.
Li Jianheng had intended to suppress the matter, but now it was impossible to gloss over. After hesitating, he said, “…Ce’an, what do you say?”
Xiao Chiye said, “The Imperial Guard has twenty thousand men on the rolls. I can check their household registrations one by one, but I cannot investigate everyone’s private affairs. In this matter, I bear responsibility for lax oversight and submit to Your Majesty’s punishment.”
Li Jianheng opened his mouth to speak.
Wei Huaixing struck his head to the floor first. “Chief Superintendent Xiao, before the Emperor, how can you not speak the truth? It’s indeed difficult to investigate private affairs among twenty thousand guardsmen, but Yuan Liu is no ordinary subordinate of yours. How can you pretend not to know!”
Shen Zechuan looked over.
“Many people have an unusual relationship with me,” Xiao Chiye swept Shen Zechuan with a glance and laughed carelessly. “But I have beauty in my arms. I’d have to be blind to sleep with some old beast. Yuan Liu could be your father, Minister Wei. Without evidence you may as well stop—but to frame me like this, Xiao Ce’an?”
“On the court floor,” Hai Liangyi coughed lightly, “Chief Superintendent, mind your words.”
“I’m whatever bastard I am—His Majesty knows it well. I’ve never needed to put on airs here,” Xiao Chiye said. Once roused, he was a tyrant, even Hai Liangyi not in his eyes. “Investigate the Imperial Guard—fine. I’ll recuse myself, hang up my waist badge, and let the ministers examine it. But to pin baseless charges on me—sorry, I won’t accept it.”
“Crude speech, insolence before the throne—what a fine son the Xiao family has!” Wei Huaixing drew a memorial from his sleeve. “The Chief Superintendent says I have no evidence, but as an official of the Court of Judicial Review, how would I dare?”
Xiao Jiming, who had remained silent, lifted his head slightly to look at Wei Huaixing, curious to see what proof he would produce.
Wei Huaixing said, “Yuan Liu was originally a minor banner officer in the Imperial Guard. It was the Chief Superintendent himself who promoted him to deputy adjudicator, and less than two years later promoted him again to adjudicator. I ask the Chief Superintendent: in these past years, when the Imperial Guard had no urgent affairs, on what grounds did he rise again and again?”
Xiao Chiye mocked, “He’d reached the age. No merit, no fault. In recent years the Guard has recruited many newcomers. Remembering old ties, I promoted more than just Yuan Liu. Why doesn’t Minister Wei list them all and count every one as my private favoritism?”
“Hasn’t the Imperial Guard in recent years become nothing but the Chief Superintendent’s one-man domain?” Wei Huaixing replied evenly. “Everyone is loyal to the Xiao clan, not to the Emperor—aren’t they?”
The words carried two layers—on the surface Xiao Chiye, beneath it Xiao Jiming.
Xiao Chiye’s face darkened at once. “Stick to the matter at hand. Cut the damn ‘Xiao clan’ every other sentence! I, Xiao Ce’an, climbed to this position by following His Majesty—not like Minister Wei, born to a great house with a smooth career guaranteed.”
Seeing his anger, Wei Huaixing finally opened the memorial. “Earlier this year, the Chief Superintendent dined and drank with someone. At the table, Yuan Liu presented him with a lavish gift. Does the Chief Superintendent admit this?”
The words stunned even Li Jianheng. He clenched his fist and said nothing.
“I never drank with Yuan Liu,” Xiao Chiye said.
“The girls at Xiangyun Pavilion on East Dragon Street can all testify. That night Yuan Liu spent heavily to host the Chief Superintendent. You drank yourself senseless, and Yuan Liu gifted you a basket of golden peaches,” Wei Huaixing said. “Do you still deny it?”
“I’ll ask you this,” Xiao Chiye said. “Yuan Liu is only a sixth-rank minor official. Where would he get golden peaches to give?”
“That’s something for the Chief Superintendent to explain,” Wei Huaixing finally revealed his killing stroke. “When Yuan Liu extended credit for the residence to Fuling, he also extended credit for three storefronts on East Dragon Street. I have verified that he used the Chief Superintendent’s handwritten authorization! In recent years, the Imperial Guard first renovated the barracks, then expanded the Fengshan training grounds. Where did the money come from? Was it not siphoned from the brokers under the cover of Imperial Guard authority? The man who handled it all for you was Yuan Liu. Now Yuan Liu instigated Fuling to assassinate the Emperor—do you dare say it has nothing to do with you?”
Xiao Chiye did not answer.
Right Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate Fu Linye stepped out. “This minister also has a memorial.”
For some reason, Li Jianheng’s fingertips trembled violently. “Speak!”
Fu Linye said, “Today this minister also impeaches the Chief Superintendent of the Imperial Guard. According to the law, before the joint hearing of the Three Judicial Offices is concluded, unless there is an imperial edict, no one may enter the prison to visit key suspects. Yesterday the Chief Superintendent had no edict, yet went to the prison without authorization, and afterward delayed reporting it.”
Xiao Chiye’s expression grew darker.
“Not long after the Chief Superintendent left the prison, Fuling’s mother died,” Fu Linye kowtowed. “What happened in between—please explain it clearly before His Majesty.”
“You lot are certainly of one mind,” Xiao Chiye said. “What a coincidence!”
“Chief Superintendent, don’t dodge the issue,” Wei Huaixing said coldly. “Confess sooner rather than later!”
“When they want to condemn you, they never lack words,” Xiao Chiye said. Surrounded, he fell silent for a moment, then addressed Li Jianheng. “I did none of what they say. Tonight, everything rests with Your Majesty!”
In the stifling atmosphere, Li Jianheng’s knees grew damp. He looked at Xiao Chiye and suddenly asked, “Then how do you explain that authorization?”
Xiao Chiye lowered his eyes, a half-smile playing on his lips. “I did not write it.”
Li Jianheng sprang up, pacing in agitation. “Let me see it!”
Wei Huaixing presented the document. Li Jianheng flipped through it briefly, then began to tremble. His lips quivered. “Isn’t this your handwriting… Ce… Ce’an!”
“I did not write it,” Xiao Chiye said firmly.
Terrified, Li Jianheng held the document as though it burned, then flung it away. Nearly losing control, he shouted, “That Yuan Liu—was he your man or not!”
Xiao Chiye lifted his eyes.
Seeing his gaze, Li Jianheng gripped the armrest, fear flickering. In that instant, he remembered Xiao Chiye’s coldness when he once cast him aside, and revulsion surged. As if wielding something dreadful, he shouted with all his strength, “Strip his waist badge first!”
“Your subject—” Xiao Chiye began.
Wei Huaixing stepped forward and shouted, “If he dares disobey, the law permits his immediate arrest!”
Xiao Chiye glared at Wei Huaixing, then looked to Li Jianheng, saying flatly, “If you want to take me, Xiao Ce’an, then at least give me a charge I can accept.”
Li Jianheng felt his trust had been misplaced and, under the siege of accusations, he now leaned toward the others. Seeing Xiao Chiye like this, rage surged to his head. “Kneel! Today I will strip your waist badge!”
Xiao Chiye did not move.
Li Jianheng was beside himself with fury. “I command you—kneel!”