Shen Zechuan had a little porridge and was fed some steamed rolls, changed into fresh undergarments, draping Xiao Chiye’s robe, watching him eat.
Lately, Xiao Chiye’s appetite was immense. Shen Zechuan guessed his bad mood stemmed from something at the drill grounds.
“Go sleep,” Xiao Chiye said. “Don’t catch a chill here.”
Shen Zechuan moved a fish aside, picking bones, sleepy but measured. “The drill grounds repairs are done, funds sufficient. Someone causing trouble?”
Xiao Chiye’s brow remained calm. After a moment, he said, “I want to add firearms to the Forbidden Army.”
Difficult.
Shen Zechuan immediately understood his irritation. Firearms had only been issued to the Eight Camps, costly and tightly controlled by the Ministry of War. Xiao Chiye had long coveted them; some bronze firearms had been idle in the armory, and he had once played with a few. He’d been denied before, and even Li Jianheng couldn’t intervene—the decision rested with Chief Minister Hai Liangyi.
Shen Zechuan offered him fish. “The plan is obvious: test the Forbidden Army, prepare Li Bei’s cavalry. Under current restrictions, Hai Liangyi will surely refuse.”
Xiao Chiye, impatient, ate heartily. Shen Zechuan fed him more, and when he set down the chopsticks: “Even if he disagrees, you’ll find a way. Li Bei has engineers; with blueprints, they can replicate anything.”
“Though the blueprints are hard to get,” Shen Zechuan added after rinsing Xiao Chiye’s hand. “Hai Liangyi guards them closely.”
Xiao Chiye’s determination was clear. Shen Zechuan understood his motives: Hua Xiayi’s marriage to Qi Dong had formed the ‘ally distant, attack nearby’ situation. Li Bei needed rapid adjustments. The cavalry was undefeated because its two successive commanders adapted swiftly. If the Qi family turned hostile, Li Bei needed strategies for both frontier cavalry and Qi infantry.
“Minister Chen Zhen and Kong Qiu are from the same hometown; he’s also Hai Liangyi’s subordinate. He knows my father slightly. My eldest brother might not even get favor, yet now it’s me,” Xiao Chiye said, recalling yesterday’s bad mood. “There’s a way.”
Shen Zechuan extinguished the lamp; they lay with one pillow. “Chen Zhen’s path isn’t easy. Being from Qi Dong, he favors them. Firearms… maybe the Brocade Guards’ craftsmen have the blueprints.”
Xiao Chiye pulled Shen Zechuan close, closing his eyes. “Xi Hongxuan is dead. Those keys are now unclaimed fat. Everyone eyes you, jealous of your colleagues. You need not care—Second Young Master has a way.”
Shen Zechuan smiled.
Xiao Chiye opened his eyes slightly. “Those two million taels haven’t reached Li Bei; I told my brother, it stays in Cizhou. When you go, you can withdraw it. Four million taels is enough for some fun. Second Young Master will give you more.”
They were trapped here, yet he spoke with such truth. Xiao Chiye might lie sometimes, but not now—like a wolf cub hoarding stars, he’d hand everything, like the box of jewels and earrings, to Shen Zechuan. His actions spoke louder than words.
Shen Zechuan turned, saying, “Not just four million. Xi Hongxuan hid keys tightly, but he isn’t a saint. Once in a while, he would reveal fragments to close ones. His sister-in-law had been having an affair with Xi Dan long enough—they were testing him. Sixty-eight keys—thirty I know…”
Xiao Chiye, near penniless and fuming, flipped over to block Shen Zechuan, making him gasp lightly.
“Second Xiao—” Shen Zechuan grimaced.
Xiao Chiye pressed his chin, silencing him. They tumbled onto the bed, kissing with ferocity.
On the rooftop, Ding Tao fed her sparrows. Hearing the rustle inside, she held them close, peeking but afraid. Seeing her brothers lost in their own thoughts, she swallowed. “I… I’ll tell you a story my father wrote once… there was a—”
Qiao Tianya and Gu Jin interjected in unison, low and firm: “Be quiet.”