Qi Taifu choked back his words, withdrawing his hand and turning away from Shen Zechuan. Confined here for twenty years, he had gone mad, cursing everyone outside; yet tonight, he had to convince himself not to hate the son of his enemy.
“Now…” Qi Taifu’s voice was filled with anguish. “Now, whom can I even kill?”
Snow fell silently, crows took flight from the courtyard trees. Inside, tattered curtains swayed with the wind. Qi Taifu, trembling, struggled to rise, raising his arms in despair.
“The great order of the world is already set! Victors claim the throne, the vanquished are disgraced, and the prince’s virtuous name is overturned. We are all doomed to infamy as traitors and rebels! Whom can I kill? If I strike, I strike at this blind, foolish Heaven! Twenty years ago, the prince bled three feet in this place… what wrong did we commit? To force the emperor into extermination!”
Tears streamed down his face as he knelt at the palace gate, head striking the ground repeatedly.
“Now… just kill me too!”
The cold snow-filled night offered no reply. Qi Taifu knelt like a decayed, broken Buddha statue, covered in falling white flakes, silent amid the luminous yet empty capital of Qu City.
Half an hour later, Ji Gang helped Qi Taifu to his feet, and the three of them sat around the incense table.
“Many things tonight have arisen because of me. I will speak plainly while I can,” Ji Gang said, rolling up his sleeves. “Taifu, Chuan’er was born into the Shen family. He was Shen Wei’s eighth son by a concubine. Eight years ago, the factions of legitimate and concubine-born sons in the Jianxing Wangfu were at odds. The heir, Shen Zhou Ji Bo, received favor, and the concubine-born brothers were distributed away. Chuan’er, at seven, was returned to Duanzhou to enlist but failed, and was left in a separate residence under the care of his mother’s maid. That woman was greedy and luxurious, often withholding the boy’s rations. Pingting, knowing this through her connection with his mother, wanted me to take Chuan’er back and raise him properly, which we did.”
Qi Taifu sneered. “Shen Wei himself was a concubine-born child, suffered much injustice in youth, and yet he favored his legitimate son. Laughable—he loved women too much and fathered so many… such folly!”
“We sent letters repeatedly to the Wangfu, but Shen Wei never replied. Taifu, even among the eight great families of Qu City, there had never been such neglect of a child. So Chuan’er, without knowing, came with us. At that time, Mu’er was fifteen; seeing her younger brother brought her great joy. From then, the four of us settled in Duanzhou, and we went through great effort to register him properly with the military household records.”
Qi Taifu was silent for a moment, then said, “Leaving the capital with guilt, seeking to register, is naturally difficult. The prince enforced strict household registration to suppress bandits and prevent rebellion.”
“I understand. Taifu, after I left, what happened in Qu City? How did the crown prince end up in that state?”
Qi Taifu pulled the tattered curtain around his shoulders, speaking somberly. “…After you left, Ji Wufan lost the emperor’s favor. Pan Rugui, serving the empress, gained her grace and was appointed to the Sili Yuan. The Jinyiwei declined, twelve offices existing in name only. After Ji Wufan’s death, Ji Lei took full control; the Eastern Depot became the real power behind the Jinyiwei, and no longer interacted with the Eastern Palace. Later, the emperor fell ill and stayed in bed, leaving trivial affairs to the cabinet and the Eastern Palace. The Hua family, relying on the empress’s favor, installed incompetent officials across the court, reviving bribery in the six ministries. The crown prince submitted petitions, but Pan Rugui, wielding his authority and colluding with the empress, blocked them from reaching the emperor. Worse, after the emperor fell ill, the empress cut off all palace petitions from the cabinet and the Eastern Palace.”
“Eunuchs ruin the country!” Ji Gang sighed repeatedly. “Had we known Pan Rugui had such ambition, we should never have spared your father!”
“Killing one Pan Rugui would still leave Pan Ruxi, Pan Ruyi!” Qi Taifu said blankly. “The empress meddles, the relatives grasp power. Ji Gang, you do not understand—these are entrenched flaws of the eight great families. Unless the eight families are eliminated, the cycle repeats! Even if the empress were not surnamed Hua, replacing her with another family among the eight, the same thing would happen.”
“But…” Shen Zechuan asked, “the crown prince wasn’t born of the empress?”
“No.” Qi Taifu lowered his head. “His biological mother was a palace concubine. The empress bore no sons, yet she raised the prince personally. They say a tiger will not harm its own cub… in the imperial house, there is no father-son bond.”
The hall fell silent again.
Ji Gang exhaled cold air, voice rough. “If not for my drinking, my father would not have lost the emperor’s favor. The prince would never have ended up here.”
“I thought, with Ji Wufan and you there first, Ji Lei would not betray. Who knew he…” Qi Taifu trailed off, bitter.
“Taifu, you do not know,” Ji Gang said, looking at Shen Zechuan. “Chuan’er does not know either. My father, Ji Wufan, was the emperor’s sworn friend and commander of the Jinyiwei. But my father’s wife died young, with no plans to remarry, so he adopted three sons. Besides me and Ji Lei, there was an eldest brother. He could not bear the harsh punishments of the palace and left early, going to Tianfei Que to serve. Ji Lei and I served the Jinyiwei, honoring our father. The Ji family martial techniques—our fists and swords—were taught by him. Later, thinking Ji Lei was morally corrupt and flattering, my father passed the secret techniques only to me. From then, the brothers’ hearts diverged. After my father’s death, Ji Lei purged his subordinates; the old Jinyiwei was no more.”
Qi Taifu murmured, “Such is fate. The Eastern Palace staff tried their best, yet could not save the prince. The emperor suspected rebellion, but the powerful posts of the eight camps were all held by the eight great families. The Jinyiwei discovered the rebellious documents and blamed the prince. Many perished in the palace; those who could not endure the punishments faltered. The emperor, furious in illness, believed Pan Rugui’s slander; the prince had no escape.”
Tears streaked his face, madness returning.
“The prince is here with no way out! Why not kill me? To leave me alive in such torment! Yet I have not fled to the afterlife.”
He suddenly locked eyes with Shen Zechuan, voice frantic.
“I am unwilling! Years of planning wasted! Countless Eastern Palace staff dead or injured, the prince’s grievances unresolved, I cannot bear it!” He gripped Shen Zechuan’s arm. “You are young—you still have a chance!”
“Taifu…” Ji Gang rose to restrain him.
“Can you protect him for a moment? For a lifetime?” Qi Taifu clutched Shen Zechuan. “I trust your compassion tonight—you do not hate him, you do not resent him, but can you teach the world to think likewise? Anyone surnamed Shen will be hunted! Even with skill and martial prowess, can he truly be safe? Your father, a master of martial arts, still died lonely and sick! In Qu City, amidst the tides of power, unseen killers are the deadliest! How can you let him face wolves and tigers unarmed?”
Ji Gang clenched his fists in silence.
Qi Taifu, still holding Shen Zechuan, knelt on both knees. He looked at Shen Zechuan, choking back sobs.
“I am Qi Hui-lian of Yuzhou! You do not recognize me, but I tell you: I was the top scorer of the Three Yuan Examinations in the fifteenth year of Yongyi. Since the founding of the Great Zhou, only five have achieved this. I served the Eastern Palace and was Minister of Personnel and assistant in the Grand Secretariat. I taught the crown prince—and now, I will teach you! Everything I have learned in life, I will teach you—do you understand?”
Shen Zechuan fixed his gaze on Qi Taifu’s eyes, extraordinary calm in his demeanor. After a brief silence, he suddenly knelt, striking three bows to the ground.
“Teacher bestowed upon me literature; I repay with vengeance for past grievances.”
At dawn, Ge Qingqing set out for Zhaozui Temple. The air was cold, snow still falling, and he warmed his hands while searching for a baozi stall.
From afar came shouts, and a red silk umbrella bobbed toward him through the snow. In Qu City, only officials above the fifth rank could carry such umbrellas.
Ge Qingqing stepped to the roadside, saluting with his blade. The man under the umbrella swayed slightly, reeking of alcohol.
“[Tight Cavalry],” the man stopped, taking Ge Qingqing’s waist badge to inspect. “Ge Baihu, where are you headed? Freezing out here.”
Ge Qingqing looked at the man’s black boots. “Returning to duty at the office. Today, I should be going to the palace.”
Xiao Chiyie had spent the night drinking, clothes disheveled. Dangling the waist badge, he said, “This path does not look like it leads to the palace.”
Ge Qingqing raised his head, giving a shy smile. “Second Young Master, you do not know—these alleys are chaotic; cutting through a few side streets leads directly to Shenwu Avenue and the palace gates.”
Xiao Chiyie laughed, returning the badge. “You recognize me?”
Ge Qingqing accepted it, flattering, “The Northern Cavalry is brave; the world knows of your and the Second Young Master’s exploits. Do you wish to return to the residence? It is slippery—shall I escort you?”
Xiao Chiyie looked at him. “Do I look like a drunkard? Go on.”
Ge Qingqing saluted again and left.
By morning light, he saw Xiao Chiyie tapping the red umbrella, calling the baozi stall to hurry. Ge Qingqing approached.
“The residence has breakfast ready. Young Master, why linger here?”
“I’m hungry, cannot walk back,” Xiao Chiyie said.
Ge Qingqing shook off his cloak. “Wine and women ruin men, Young Master—let us return.”
Xiao Chiyie donned his cloak but did not move. Eating two baozi, oblivious to onlookers, he asked, “Can this reach Shenwu Avenue?”
“It can, but it’s not easy,” Ge Qingqing said. “These alleys are both residential and official drainage channels. The narrower, the more stagnant water. Qu City hasn’t repaired drains in years. When snow melts, rain will flood the streets. Do you think this path is easy?”
Xiao Chiyie said, “I only asked one question; why so long an answer?”
Ge Qingqing replied, “Meaning you must take the main road. Drunk or not, detours may slow you.”
Xiao Chiyie wiped his hands, gesturing for Ge Qingqing to pay. “Strange. Go check if any of the twelve Jinyiwei offices have a guard named Ge Qingqing today—old man, do something else; this baozi is awful.”