The main hall of the Marquis of Jingbei’s residence.
There was no invocation of family punishment, nor any thunderous outburst of rage.
Yet the suffocating silence that hung over the hall was far more oppressive than the salt-soaked whips in the ancestral shrine.
Li Ziao knelt on the cold blue-brick floor, his right shoulder wrapped in thick white bandages, his face deathly pale.
He recounted everything that had happened over the past few days in full, daring not to conceal a single word—from his provocations before arriving at Prince Yi’s residence, to his fruitless waiting outside Shuyu Pavilion, the delivery of the forged letter, the ambush at the abandoned kiln, his taking an arrow meant for Lord Yuexi and being poisoned, and finally, his confrontation with Prince Yi after waking up at the prince’s residence.
The crumpled forged letter now lay quietly on the red sandalwood desk.
The Marquis of Jingbei, Li Hao, stood with his back to his son, his hands clasped behind him as he gazed up at the map of the Great Sheng Empire hanging on the wall. Even without showing anger, he exuded an intimidating authority.
The heir, Li Zihe, stood beside the desk. He lowered his eyes and examined the letter twice, his fingertips tapping lightly against the tabletop.
“You said you wrote a letter to that male courtesan and handed it to a servant at Shuyu Pavilion?”
Li Hao’s cold, stern voice shattered the silence.
“…Yes.”
Li Ziao lowered his head as he answered.
“Was it that servant who approached you first and told you about Lord Yuexi’s circumstances?”
Li Zihe put down the letter and looked at his younger brother kneeling on the floor.
The usual warmth of an elder brother had disappeared from his gaze, replaced by an almost analytical sharpness.
“Yes,” Li Ziao answered.
“Ziao, after your confinement was lifted, did you wait outside Shuyu Pavilion every single day?” Li Zihe asked again.
“…Yes.”
“Regardless of wind or rain?”
“Yes.”
Li Zihe finally let out a helpless sigh. A chilling glint appeared in his eyes.
He looked at the letter on the desk, its every word dripping with anguish, its appeal for help and expression of affection calibrated with exquisite precision. His voice lowered.
“Father, whoever orchestrated this did not come up with the plan on a whim. They set a trap at Shuyu Pavilion. The fact that this letter could pinpoint Ziao’s weakness so precisely means they have been watching him for quite some time.”
Li Zihe understood his younger brother all too well.
A son of a military family, with a fierce spirit in his heart, yet blessed—or cursed—with an innocent, carefree nature.
Once he decided someone was weak and vulnerable, he would develop an overwhelming urge to protect them, no matter the cost.
Whoever wrote the letter understood this perfectly. They knew he had once spent a fortune on Lord Yuexi, and they knew he waited at the same place every day. So they tailored a fatal trap specifically for him, one that would let him play the lone hero rescuing a beauty in distress.
“You thought yourself devoted and righteous, but you never realized you had already become bait whose movements were easy to predict.”
Li Zihe looked at his younger brother, his tone mercilessly mocking.
“A noble young master who loses his soul waiting outside a brothel every day? Manipulating you would be child’s play!”
Li Ziao pressed his lips tightly together, unable to respond.
He had assumed his father and elder brother would berate him for disgracing the family by falling for a male courtesan. He had never expected his elder brother’s first blow to expose his sheer stupidity so directly.
“How old are you this year?”
Li Hao, who had remained facing away from him, suddenly spoke. His voice was as deep as rolling thunder, breaking the brief silence.
Li Ziao trembled slightly and lowered his head, answering timidly, “…I am seventeen, Father.”
“Seventeen!”
Li Hao spun around and strode toward him, glaring down at him with barely contained fury.
“When I was seventeen, I was already carrying a spear alongside your grandfather on the northwestern frontier! I charged through enemy formations alone on horseback, fought in blood-soaked battles, and had the heads of three enemy commanders hanging from my waist.”
“And you? Your head is full of liquor and filth! Every day, you stand outside a brothel playing cheap hero for some male courtesan! You let someone lead you around by the nose like a fool, yet you still think you’re overflowing with passion and devotion?!”
As he spoke, Li Hao swept his sleeve violently through the air. The gust of wind made the candles in the hall flicker wildly.
“That cold arrow—who was it aimed at?”
Li Hao fixed his youngest son with a hawk-like stare, his voice heavy as iron.
“…It was too dark. Things happened too quickly, and I couldn’t see clearly.”
“You couldn’t see clearly?”
Li Hao slowly paced up to him and looked down from above.
“With that brain of yours, did it never occur to you what would happen to this entire marquisate if that arrow had been aimed at the male courtesan instead of you?”
Li Hao’s voice suddenly rose, making the candle flames tremble violently.
“You thought this was an elopement? Someone was using you as a blade to provoke a blood feud between the Marquis of Jingbei’s residence and Prince Yi’s residence! You rashly tried to snatch someone from Prince Yi himself. If that person had died at your hands, did you truly think thirty lashes would settle the matter? Prince Yi’s residence would have had every justification to retaliate, and my Li family would have become traitorous rebels in the wrong!”
Li Hao’s expression darkened completely.
He was not furious because his son liked men. He was angry because Li Ziao had acted without considering the consequences.
More than that, someone had dared to treat his son, the Marquis of Jingbei’s own flesh and blood, as a chess piece that could be manipulated and sacrificed at will!
If their objective had been to kill Li Ziao, they could simply have assassinated him. Why go to such lengths to forge two letters?
There was only one real purpose: to lure Lord Yuexi out from beneath Prince Yi’s protection.
And his own son was the easiest string for them to pull.
“From this day forward, you will put those feelings firmly out of your mind! You are not to go anywhere near that male courtesan again!”
Li Hao delivered his final warning with absolute severity.
Li Ziao shuddered, and cold sweat instantly soaked through his inner garments.
Only now did he belatedly realize that the abandoned kiln had not been the site of some romantic misadventure. It had been a political executioner’s blade capable of swallowing the entire marquisate.
“Father, I have been wrong.”
Li Ziao drew a deep breath, enduring the stabbing pain in his shoulder as he straightened his back.
“I know I was foolish and let someone make a pawn of me. But… I want to enter Prince Yi’s residence and serve under His Highness.”
The moment those words left his mouth, the temperature in the hall seemed to plunge to freezing.
Li Zihe was almost too angry to laugh. He wanted to take the whip from the wall and beat some sense into his stubborn younger brother.
He should never have stopped their father from giving Li Ziao only thirty lashes.
Now he wanted to give him three hundred.
“Ziao, do you even hear the madness coming out of your own mouth? For the sake of a male courtesan, you want to deliver yourself into Prince Yi’s residence? What do you think our family’s political position is?”
“He isn’t an ordinary male courtesan!” Li Ziao protested urgently. “Someone wants him dead, and right now, only Prince Yi can protect him. The only way I can legitimately stay by his side, protect him, and investigate the mastermind behind all this is to serve under His Highness!”
“Protect him? With what?!”
Li Zihe’s words were merciless.
“Do you command troops? Do you have an intelligence network? You can’t even see who is setting traps for you or who is using you as a weapon. What gives you the right to boast that you can protect anyone?”
Li Ziao was left speechless by his elder brother’s rapid-fire questions.
“For generations, our Li family has served only the sovereign on the imperial throne. We will never involve ourselves in factional struggles!”
Li Hao’s voice rang through the hall, every word carrying tremendous weight.
“You think following Prince Yi means you’re merely protecting one person? Wrong! The moment you step into Prince Yi’s residence as a young master of the Marquis of Jingbei’s family, you will have willingly placed the neck of our entire household into the noose of Prince Yi’s struggle for the throne! The officials of this court won’t see you as a devoted lover. They’ll see you as a political signal that the Li family is testing the waters!”
Li Hao’s gaze was as sharp as a blade.
“If you merely like a man, I can’t control your heart. But the person you want to protect is deeply entangled with Prince Yi. This is no longer a private affair of yours. I’ll ask you one last time: are you truly willing to drag the entire family into this just for him?”
Li Ziao clenched both hands into fists, his nails digging into his palms until tiny beads of blood appeared.
He knew that every word his father spoke was an iron law of court politics.
Yet the image he could not banish from his mind was Lord Yuexi’s aloof, exquisite figure—and the complicated web of secrets surrounding him.
“…I still want to go.”
Li Ziao gritted his teeth and met his father’s furious gaze. His voice was quiet, but he did not back down in the slightest.
In the past, he would have stuck out his neck, stormed off, and slammed the door behind him. Today, he chose to face the consequences directly.
Li Hao looked at him, an extraordinarily complicated emotion flashing through his eyes.
He remained silent for a long time. Even the dripping of the water clock seemed deafening.
“Zihe, tell him.”
Li Hao suddenly closed his eyes and turned away, looking utterly exhausted.
“Ziao, you’re right. Lord Yuexi is indeed no ordinary male courtesan.”
Li Zihe took a deep breath, walked up to his younger brother, and lowered his voice. He spoke slowly, emphasizing every word.
“You think a man as calculating as Prince Yi would keep Lord Yuexi by his side for an entire year for no reason? The person you keep saying you’re willing to risk your life to protect… isn’t some lowborn male courtesan from the pleasure quarters.”
Li Ziao lifted his head, his eyes bewildered.
Li Zihe stared directly into his eyes and ruthlessly tore away the final veil of secrecy.
“He is the surviving orphan of a disgraced official from the Jiangnan grain-transport embezzlement case. When the entire Wu family was executed, he was fortunate enough to escape death. His real name is Wu Jiuling.”
Li Ziao’s breath stopped.
All the little inconsistencies he had once ignored now connected like poisonous snakes.
No wonder Lord Yuexi never spoke of his origins.
No wonder he had remained unmoved by Li Ziao’s heartfelt confession.
No wonder he had said Prince Yi knew everything.
No wonder Prince Yi’s personal guards had appeared outside the abandoned kiln as though descending from the heavens.
Li Ziao had thought he had fallen in love with a delicate flower in need of tender care.
He had never realized that the man carried the blood feud of an entire family on his shoulders, that he was entangled in a shocking case involving the imperial court, and that he was a blade coated in poison, one that could shatter into pieces at any moment.
How laughable that he had considered himself the rescuer.
Even his own elder brother had already investigated Lord Yuexi’s background thoroughly.
Only he had been dancing foolishly in the middle of the scheme like a clown.
He remembered Prince Yi’s casual warning:
“Once you enter this game, there will be no walking away unscathed.”
Why was Prince Yi protecting the Wu family’s surviving heir?
What kind of filth was concealed within that old case?
Just how deep were these treacherous waters?
“Now you know.”
Li Hao did not turn around. His voice was as hard as iron.
“This is not some youthful romance. This is an inferno that devours people alive! Turn back now. Our Li family can still pretend none of this ever happened. As for the life you owe Prince Yi, your father will repay him through other political favors at court.”
It was the most direct form of political pressure.
Both father and elder brother were waiting for him to recognize the danger and retreat.
Li Ziao lowered his head, his shoulders taut as a fully drawn bowstring.
He remained silent for a very, very long time.
So long that Li Zihe thought he had finally accepted reality and was about to reach down to help him up.
“…Before, I truly knew nothing.”
Li Ziao suddenly spoke.
His voice was hoarse, yet strangely calm, as though he had been reborn.
He slowly raised his head. The restlessness that had once filled his clear, reckless eyes had disappeared, replaced by the burning fire of a man who had finally awakened.
“I didn’t know the letters were fake. I didn’t know who had set the trap. I didn’t even know his real name… That was why I nearly got him killed, and nearly dragged the entire marquisate down with me.”
Li Ziao looked directly into his father’s and elder brother’s eyes.
“But now, I know.”
“Then you should understand that you don’t have the ability to protect him!” Li Hao rebuked him sharply.
“Then I’ll learn!”
Li Ziao’s reply was resolute, his eyes blazing with a sharpness he had never displayed before.
“I’ll learn to read the situation. I’ll learn to analyze people’s hearts! I won’t dare claim that I can keep him safe right now, but at the very least, I will never again allow myself to become someone else’s blade, used to stab him in the back!”
Li Hao stared at him with a stern, icy gaze.
“Father!”
Li Ziao struck his forehead hard against the blue-brick floor. The dull impact echoed through the hall.
“If I were doing this today merely to satisfy my own selfish desires, you could invoke family punishment and break my legs. But I am perfectly clear-headed now. If I know that something was wrong with that old case, and I know someone is hiding in the shadows, manipulating people and committing despicable acts, yet I choose to protect myself by closing my eyes and pretending to be blind… then what face would I have left to call myself a descendant of a military family? What right would I have to claim that I want to defend my homeland and protect its people?!”
He raised his head, his gaze unwavering.
“I understand Father’s predicament. That is why the decision I make today is my own, Li Ziao’s personal decision. Whatever life or death, fortune or disaster may follow, it has nothing to do with the Li family!”
His words struck Li Hao like a heavy hammer, leaving him speechless for a moment.
He had expected to see a spoiled young master overcome by romantic feelings, crying and pleading.
Instead, he saw a man who, after being brutally scourged by political cruelty, had chosen to pick up the blade and prepare to hone its edge.
His usually incorrigible second son had somehow been tempered into steel overnight.
But personal growth was one thing. The cruelty of court politics was another.
Li Hao studied him gravely, his tone inscrutable.
“You think those foxes at court will believe you just because you say, ‘It has nothing to do with the Li family’? You bear the Li surname, wear the clothes of the marquisate, and carry the status of a military household. There is no such thing as a purely personal decision for someone like you! Besides, this world is not divided neatly into black and white. If every wrongful or unjust case had to be dragged into the light, this entire court would have collapsed long ago!”
He waved his hand decisively, allowing no room for argument.
“Do not bring this matter up again! If you dare speak of it once more, I will break your legs myself and lock you in the cellar!”
“Then please break my legs, Father! I’ll crawl to Prince Yi’s residence if I have to!” Li Ziao glared back through gritted teeth.
“You—!”
Li Hao was so furious that the veins on his forehead bulged.
“Fine! I’ll grant your wish today! Zihe, bring out the family punishment whip!”
“Father, please calm down.”
Li Zihe, who had been watching coldly from the sidelines, finally stepped forward and positioned himself between them.
His expression was composed, though a deep glint flashed through his eyes.
“With Second Brother’s temperament, blocking him is less effective than giving him an outlet. If we push him too hard, he may act on his own, which would only give others more ammunition against us. Why don’t we try another approach and turn defense into offense?”
Li Hao forced down his anger.
“What approach?”
“We can spread the word that Second Brother acted impulsively and caused a disturbance outside Prince Yi’s residence, offending an important person in the prince’s household. His Highness was magnanimous and, out of consideration for Father, chose not to pursue the matter.”
A faint, cold smile touched Li Zihe’s lips.
“But our Marquisate of Jingbei cannot afford to be seen as lacking proper etiquette. Since His Highness saved his life, we should show our ‘profound gratitude’ by sending Second Brother to the prince’s residence to serve as a guard for one month, as punishment and an apology.”
Li Hao’s brows drew together as he considered the deeper implications.
Many of the marquisate’s secret strategies had been devised by his eldest son. He knew Li Zihe would not suggest something without a purpose.
“What makes this plan so ingenious?”
Li Zihe explained methodically.
“First, it tells the outside world that this is merely a private apology for the marquisate’s failure to discipline its son properly. It lasts only one month, so it cannot be construed as the family choosing a political side. Second, since he is going there to ‘serve a punishment,’ his presence is entirely legitimate. Even if His Majesty asks about it, there will be nothing to criticize. Third… it will give Ziao some time to think calmly.”
Li Hao suddenly saw the light and gave his eldest son an approving glance.
What a clever move: retreat in order to advance, accomplishing several objectives at once.
They could apologize to Prince Yi, quiet the rumors, and preserve the marquisate’s dignity.
They would have a legitimate explanation to silence the court officials and would not have to fear questions from the emperor.
They could also satisfy this rebellious son’s stubborn wishes.
More importantly, it would amount to openly planting a pair of eyes inside Prince Yi’s residence.
“Ahem…” Li Hao cleared his throat and reluctantly accepted the proposal.
“Very well. We’ll do as your elder brother suggests. You have one month. If you fail to uncover anything meaningful, you will return to the military camp and behave yourself! If you cause trouble again, I’ll petition His Majesty to exile you to the frontier for military service!”
Li Ziao knew this was no more than a one-month reprieve, but at least he had secured a legitimate opportunity to remain by Prince Yi’s side.
“…I obey, Father.”
“Get out of here and recover from your injuries!”
Li Hao waved him away.
Only after Li Ziao had limped out of the main hall did Li Hao finally lower himself into his grand armchair, his expression turning instantly grim.
“Zihe, is it really wise to hand this rusty blade of a son of mine over to Prince Yi?”
“Father, the winds at court have already begun to change.”
Li Zihe walked to the desk and lowered his voice, his tone grave.
“Prince Yi’s recent movements have been extremely intriguing. Not only has he taken the Wu family’s surviving heir under his protection, but after the recent incident in which his pleasure boat capsized and attracted His Majesty’s attention, he immediately entered the Imperial Clan Court to reorganize old records. Now someone has deliberately entangled Prince Yi’s residence with our Li family. This can only mean one thing… That usually idle prince may already have reached for the Achilles’ heel of certain people.”
He paused before continuing his analysis.
“Look at His Majesty’s attitude. First, he warned the Ministry of Revenue against withholding military provisions from the northern frontier, which carried an implicit warning to the Eastern Palace. Then he specially permitted Prince Yi to enter the Imperial Clan Court. The pieces on this chessboard have already begun to move.”
Prince Gong was already stationed at the Imperial Clan Court. The emperor would not casually permit another prince to enter. Yet he had chosen Prince Yi, and the reason was worth pondering.
Although the earlier warning concerned military provisions for the northern frontier, the person actually affected was Prince Su.
The two matters appeared unrelated, yet both involved princes whom the emperor had previously paid little attention to. Together, they carried a subtle warning directed at the Eastern Palace and the Crown Prince’s faction.
“So you’re sending your younger brother to Prince Yi’s residence to use his eyes to see what cards Prince Yi is turning over?” Li Hao snorted. “With Ziao’s meager abilities? He’ll be lucky if he comes back in one piece after a month.”
“I certainly don’t expect him to uncover any core secrets,” Li Zihe replied without the slightest hesitation.
“Prince Yi’s residence has been made as impregnable as an iron fortress by that Chief Secretary Lan. His Highness himself has a mind as deep as an abyss. But if we get Ziao inside legitimately for a month, even if all he does is serve as a blind guard, he may at least discern which way the wind is blowing. That way, we won’t be caught off guard when the political climate changes.”
Li Zihe did not believe that Prince Yi and Chief Secretary Lan had been completely unaware of the elopement trap, nor that they had simply allowed Lord Yuexi to walk into it.
The prince’s personal guards had acted far too quickly, as though they had already been lying in wait.
Li Ziao had been nothing more than an ignorant pawn who had foolishly walked straight into the trap.
Now that the scheme had dragged the Li family into the fray, they could not afford to ignore it.
“You make a good point.”
A murderous glint flashed through Li Hao’s eyes.
“Someone dares reach into the Marquisate of Jingbei and use my son as a chess piece? They must think I, Li Hao, am made of mud! Since someone has already splashed these muddy waters onto our doorstep, I’ll see exactly how Prince Yi intends to play this game!”
Prince Yi had saved his son’s life and magnanimously chosen not to pursue the offense.
With two weighty debts of gratitude now hanging over them, the Marquisate of Jingbei would look discourteous if it failed to return the favor.
This one-month period of “labor” would be the marquisate’s counterstroke.
Li Zihe leaned closer and lowered his voice to a whisper.
“Father, tomorrow’s performance at the gates will require you to personally take Ziao there and play your part…”
He quietly explained each step of the plan.
Finally, he added, “Under no circumstances must Ziao know that he is being sent there to investigate. If he knows he has a mission, he’ll act deliberately—and deliberate actions always leave traces. Only if he believes he is being punished and is there to protect someone will his behavior remain natural. The more genuine he seems, the harder it will be for Prince Yi’s residence to figure him out. Also, tell him that he must write a daily duty log after returning home, proving that he hasn’t been slacking off.”
◇◆◇◆◇
The following morning, just as the sky began to lighten.
A lone figure was kneeling conspicuously outside the vermilion gates of Prince Yi’s residence.
The sight of someone making a public show of “carrying thorny branches to beg forgiveness” caused the tea-stall workers to stop what they were doing. Several passersby farther down the street exchanged subtle glances, and even the city patrol officers slowed their steps.
The kneeling figure was the young general of the Li family. Standing beside him, his expression as dark as water, was the imposing man renowned throughout the empire: the Marquis of Jingbei himself.
When the report reached him, Lan Ningcheng was busy reviewing case files. His brows drew together almost imperceptibly.
He immediately swept out of the room and headed for the gates.
The heavy doors slowly swung open, and Lan Ningcheng stepped outside.
One glance at the prying eyes lurking around the street corners was enough to make him understand.
The Marquis of Jingbei had not come to offer a private apology. He had deliberately chosen to make a political declaration in full public view.
Lan Ningcheng did not even spare the kneeling Li Ziao a sidelong glance. Instead, he walked straight toward Li Hao and greeted him with a formal bow that could not be faulted.
“May I ask what brings the marquis here so early in the morning? His Highness is not currently at the residence. Perhaps we might meet another day.”
In just a few words, he attempted to close the gates on his visitor.
But Li Hao had come to put on a performance today. How could he leave so easily?
He drew breath deep into his belly and spoke loudly enough for everyone on the street to hear.
“Chief Secretary Lan! My son was deceived by others that day. Not only did he make reckless remarks outside the prince’s residence, but he even attempted to abduct the person dear to His Highness! Although His Highness was magnanimous enough to say that he would not pursue the matter out of consideration for me, how can such a grave offense simply be brushed aside?!”
At his words, a trace of icy mockery flickered deep within Lan Ningcheng’s usually emotionless eyes.
What a fine move by the Marquis of Jingbei.
He had seized the initiative, publicly establishing beyond dispute that Prince Yi had already reconciled with Li Ziao. In doing so, he had blocked the prince’s residence from using the incident as grounds for retaliation in the future.
The marquis wanted to seize control of the situation?
That depended on whether Prince Yi was willing to accept this troublesome gift.
However, Lan Ningcheng had no authority to dismiss a figure as powerful as the Marquis of Jingbei. He immediately ordered someone to ride to the Imperial Clan Court and summon Prince Yi back.
Before long, the rumble of carriage wheels came from the street corner.
The carriage stopped, and Xiao Ying lifted the curtain and stepped down. He wore a prince’s formal court robes, his face bearing that familiar, lazy expression that seemed half amused and half inscrutable.
“What sort of performance is the marquis putting on today?”
Xiao Ying gently waved his folding fan, his tone mild.
“I already said that day that your son was merely young and hot-blooded. Now that the misunderstanding has been cleared up, the matter is settled. He is still injured. You should take him home and let him recover.”
“Your Highness is benevolent, but the state has its laws and the family has its rules!”
Li Hao bowed with righteous solemnity.
“My son has committed a terrible offense. If I merely confine him at home, it will not silence public criticism, nor will it be enough to answer to Your Highness. I have made my decision. He must be punished. I shall leave this rebellious son at Your Highness’s residence to serve as a guard for one month, obeying all commands, to atone for his offense! During that month, his life and death will be his own responsibility. The Marquisate of Jingbei will not interfere in the slightest!”
Xiao Ying’s smile did not fade, but he lightly tapped the ribs of his fan against his palm.
The Marquis of Jingbei had played this maneuver of retreating in order to advance beautifully.
By proposing the “punishment” himself, the marquis ensured that outsiders would see this as a strict military father disciplining his rebellious son, neatly distancing the family from any suspicion of currying favor with the prince.
At the same time, he had forcibly planted a legitimate spy inside Prince Yi’s residence.
This “rusty blade” from the military had been placed on Prince Yi’s weapons rack, but the hand holding its hilt still belonged to the Marquisate of Jingbei.
“How can that be appropriate?”
Xiao Ying sighed with feigned helplessness.
“How could I possibly put the marquis’s beloved son to work as a servant? If this reaches my Imperial Father’s ears, he will surely reprimand me for being narrow-minded and vindictive.”
“Your Highness need not worry! If His Majesty asks, I shall submit a memorial explaining the circumstances myself!”
As he spoke, Li Hao kicked the side of Li Ziao’s lower leg.
Li Ziao endured the pain and bowed to the ground, speaking loudly.
“Your guilty subordinate, Li Ziao, is willing to lead Your Highness’s horse and attend to your stirrups. I would gladly give my life a thousand times over! I beg Your Highness to grant me my punishment!”
Xiao Ying sneered inwardly.
The father and son had performed their two-man act flawlessly. The fox behind the scenes was undoubtedly Li Zihe.
If he continued to refuse, he would only appear guilty, as though he had something to hide.
“Very well.”
Xiao Ying snapped his folding fan shut, putting on the air of someone who had no choice but to accept the offer.
“Since the marquis is so determined, I shall take charge of your son for one month on your behalf.”
Seeing Li Hao’s expression relax slightly, Xiao Ying immediately changed the subject.
“However, your son is injured. I cannot bear to have him stand guard outside the gates, exposed to wind and sun. Here is what we shall do: he will be assigned to the outer-courtyard guards and take part in their patrols. Once he enters my residence, he must abide by its rules. If he makes any mistakes, I shall punish him according to those rules. He may report for duty tomorrow.”
Li Hao’s heart sank.
As expected, Prince Yi was cunning.
If Li Ziao had been assigned to guard the gates, he could have recorded the daily comings and goings at the prince’s residence.
But by assigning him to patrol the outer courtyard, Xiao Ying had turned him into a blind brick that could only follow predetermined routes, never even getting close to the inner courtyard.
But the matter had gone too far for Li Hao to withdraw now.
“Everything is at Your Highness’s discretion!”
Once the Li father and son had departed, the smile on Xiao Ying’s face vanished instantly, and his gaze turned as cold as a deep pool.
He turned and strode back through the gates.
“Please forgive me, Your Highness, for interrupting your official duties and making you return in haste,” Lan Ningcheng said quietly, following a step behind.
“It’s fine. We’ll discuss this in the study.”
The heavy wooden doors of the study closed, shutting out all prying eyes from the outside world.
Xiao Ying tossed his folding fan onto the desk and said coldly, “I spared the Li family’s dignity, and they’ve actually dared to use that as a stepping stone to climb higher.”
“This maneuver of retreating in order to advance must have come from the heir, Li Zihe,” Lan Ningcheng analyzed calmly.
The heir, who held a position in the Five Armies Commandery, was the sort of man who never acted without first seeing an advantage.
Although he and Li Ziao were both sons of a military family, Li Zihe was calculating and meticulous.
He served as a secretary in the Five Armies Commandery, where he specialized in organizing military registers, provisions, deployment orders, and military reports.
Rather than leading troops into battle himself, he excelled at identifying problems hidden in mountains of military paperwork. He was no mere martial man who knew only how to swing a sword. He was a strategist capable of sniffing out danger between the lines.
“That old wolf, the Marquis of Jingbei, has somehow managed to produce a slippery fox and a foolish young deer.”
Xiao Ying sneered.
“I saved his son’s life, and now they’re using that same son as a stepping-stone to test the waters in return?”
He was practically going to be driven mad by the three men of the Li family.
Xiao Ying walked to the window and drew a deep breath. He quickly calmed himself, and the calculating depth returned to his eyes.
“Let’s not move against him just yet.”
He smiled meaningfully.
“That foolish young deer has no idea that his father and brother have sent him here as a spy. A blade that doesn’t know it is a blade is the most natural—and the easiest to guard against.”
“Assign him to patrol the outer courtyard. Let him encounter ordinary guards and visitors to that area along his route. As for restricted locations such as the inner courtyard, the study, and the storerooms, simply enforce the residence’s usual rules forbidding unauthorized entry. There’s no need to single him out deliberately and risk alerting the others.”
“I understand,” Lan Ningcheng replied. “However, the young general Li is notoriously impulsive and difficult to control.”
He offered the reminder cautiously.
The previous scheme had been thrown into disarray by Li Ziao’s reckless flurry of punches.
Xiao Ying raised a hand to rub his aching brow. The man was indeed an uncontrollable variable.
After a moment, he lowered his hand, the corner of his mouth curling upward.
“Isn’t he full of energy? Then let’s find something to keep him busy. Regarding the incident when my pleasure boat capsized, didn’t you trace the investigation to that Assistant Director Yan at the Ministry of Justice?”
“Yes. I checked the passenger manifests of every pleasure boat on the river that night. The young master of the Yan family’s bodyguard was named Ding Quan, around twenty-five years old. However, the man accompanying him that night was a stranger in his thirties, and he left the boat for nearly the time it takes to burn an incense stick when the incident occurred. Young Master Yan claimed that Ding Quan had suddenly fallen ill and had to be replaced at the last minute. But if that were true, why use Ding Quan’s name to register for boarding?”
“Secondly, Assistant Director Yan of the Ministry of Justice happened to be drinking on a nearby pleasure boat that very night. We cannot yet prove that he ordered someone to push Your Highness into the water, but he remains a suspect.”
“Excellent.”
Xiao Ying turned around, his gaze cold and confident, like a man who had everything under control.
“Don’t hand him the entire trump card outright. The heir, Li Zihe, is a fox. If we feed him the bait directly, he’ll only grow suspicious. Over the next month, let Li Ziao ‘accidentally’ come across fragments of information while patrolling the outer courtyard—traces suggesting that the residence is investigating the pleasure-boat passenger manifests and pursuing leads connected to the Ministry of Justice. Let him believe he uncovered the secret through his own abilities, then carry it back to the marquisate.”
“We can use the Li family to bite into this hard bone at the Ministry of Justice, while also seeing what the Li family is really trying to find out about me. If they uncover something useful, I can reap the benefits without lifting a finger. If they fail, I’ll still have the father and son so busy they won’t have time to come meddle in the affairs of my inner courtyard.”
Lan Ningcheng inclined his head slightly, admiration appearing in his eyes.
“That is indeed a plan that achieves several objectives at once. I suggest assigning him a few physically strong ‘colleagues’ as well. If he loses control again, there will be people on hand to restrain him.”
Xiao Ying nodded slightly.
“Do that.” His gaze turned chilly. “Under no circumstances is Li Ziao to meet Lord Yuexi. Notify Lord Yuexi of this as well. If he happens to run into Li Ziao by accident, he can simply say that I invited him to the residence for a visit.”
“I understand.”
◇◆◇◆◇
Night deepened. The moon was bright, and the stars were sparse. Outside the window, scattered tree shadows swayed gently in the breeze, casting slanted silhouettes across the cold desk.
Li Ziao sat alone before a dim oil lamp, trimming the wick.
The flame flickered, stretching his shadow into something long and lonely.
He lowered his eyes and reached out with his slender, scarred hand, slowly opening an exquisite nanmu wooden box that had been sitting on the desk.
As the lid lifted, a faint woody fragrance mingled with the scent of ink and drifted toward him.
Inside lay three scrolls of silk and a folded slip of paper.
He had always kept the three silk scrolls with great care.
The corners of the first had curled slightly from being handled so often in the past. There was a tiny, pale ink stain in one corner of the second, as though moisture or rain had once blurred the ink. The third remained as smooth and pristine as the day he had received it.
These were things he had once received from Lord Yuexi.
Back then, he had been proud and arrogant, convinced that he excelled in both literature and martial arts. He had gone to Shuyu Pavilion three times to challenge Lord Yuexi’s famous practice of “entertaining guests with poetry.” Yet after all three trials, he had failed to earn even a single approving nod from that aloof, otherworldly man.
Li Ziao extended two fingers and carefully took out the first silk scroll, gently unfolding it.
Written upon the silk was Lord Yuexi’s distinctive handwriting, its strokes strong and elegant, yet carrying a cool, refined austerity.
“A lone swan rests beneath the cold moon on jade-green waters; quietly awaiting the mighty wind to shatter its cage.”
Seeing the verse, Li Ziao seemed to glimpse Lord Yuexi’s exquisite, solitary figure once more.
At the time, he had believed the words “quietly awaiting the mighty wind to shatter its cage” were an indirect plea for help, concealed beneath Lord Yuexi’s cold pride.
In his eyes, Lord Yuexi was like a solitary swan trapped in the mire of the pleasure quarters, proud and lonely.
Though surrounded by filth, his heart yearned for a powerful “mighty wind” to sweep into that mire and smash the cage imprisoning his freedom.
And Li Ziao, who had fancied himself a hero, had naturally assumed he was that very wind, the one capable of rescuing Lord Yuexi from danger.
He had thought Lord Yuexi was waiting for him to come and take him away.
Overflowing with youthful passion, he had immediately picked up his brush and written a matching couplet.
“With blade in hand and steed beneath me, I shall break through a thousand waves; I swear to shelter the flying swan beneath my iron armor.”
He had poured all his youthful bravado and the heroic spirit of his military family into those words. Every stroke had been a vow to protect Lord Yuexi.
He had wanted to tell him: I am your mighty wind!
No matter how enormous the waves ahead might be, he would charge through them with sword and horse, clear the path for him, carry the solitary swan away from the pleasure quarters, and hold him beneath the protection of his iron armor.
Yet when Lord Yuexi received the couplet, those crystalline, cool eyes showed not the slightest ripple of being rescued. Instead, they were as still as a dried-up well.
He merely lowered his gaze and spoke in a voice as faint as melting snow in early spring.
“Your poem is magnificent in its momentum, Young General. Its heroic passion and sense of justice are indeed admirable.”
At this point, Lord Yuexi paused and looked up at him. His gaze was so deep that it was impossible to read.
“But unfortunately…”
After that, he said nothing more and politely showed Li Ziao out.
At the time, Li Ziao had completely failed to understand the helplessness hidden behind that “unfortunately.”
Now, after enduring a brush with death, he looked at the silk scroll again, and a bitter, self-mocking smile spread across his lips.
Only now did he understand that the “mighty wind” Lord Yuexi awaited had never been simply about escaping Shuyu Pavilion.
Perhaps what Lord Yuexi had truly been waiting for was someone who could understand him.
As for who that person might be, or where he would take him, Lord Yuexi had never said.
Li Ziao had simply written his own name into that answer without permission.
How laughably naive.
Even if he had used the power of the marquisate to buy Lord Yuexi’s freedom back then, what future would the man have had?
He would merely have become the illegitimate male concubine of the Marquis of Jingbei’s second son, trapped for the rest of his life in the depths of the marquisate’s secluded courtyards.
He would have traded one small cage for another—a beautiful golden cage, perhaps, but a cage all the same.
He had believed he was giving the other man a wonderful future, yet from beginning to end, he had never once asked Lord Yuexi:
What kind of future do you want?
Li Ziao set down the first scroll and unfolded the second.
This was the poem Lord Yuexi had given him shortly after his first failure, when he had refused to accept defeat and returned to Shuyu Pavilion for another challenge.
“The smoke of war still lingers over the frontier mountains; ask not the misty waters about the broken strings.”
When he had first read these lines, he had thought Lord Yuexi was concerned for the realm. Knowing that Li Ziao was the son of a military family, he had assumed the man was advising him to focus on the flames of war along the frontier and the achievements of serving his country, rather than lose himself in the sorrowful music of the pleasure quarters.
Believing he had understood the profound intentions of his soulmate, he had been deeply moved and had swept his brush across the paper.
“I shall trample a thousand fields of snow upon the battlefield; all I ask is one melody to accompany the rest of my life.”
He had wanted to tell Lord Yuexi that he would never forget his duty as a member of a military family. Once he had crossed a thousand snow-covered battlefields and earned glorious military achievements, the greatest reward he would seek was simply to return to his side, listen to him play the qin for the rest of his life, and remain with him forever.
But after reading the poem, Lord Yuexi had merely offered a faint, fleeting smile.
There had been no joy in that smile, only a deep, overwhelming loneliness and desolation that seemed impossible to dispel.
Li Ziao’s fingers brushed over the traces of ink on the silk, and a dull ache stirred in his chest.
Looking at it now, he realized for the first time that Lord Yuexi might not have been advising him to pursue fame and military glory at all.
Those words about “the smoke of war and frontier mountains” had been a reminder: they stood in different places in this world, each carrying different burdens.
If a son of a military family could abandon his own family responsibilities for a few passionate promises about romance, what right did he have to speak of protecting someone else?
Yet at the time, Li Ziao had heard only what he wanted to hear: Wait for me to return.
He had twisted the meaning into a romantic vow between a hero and the beauty he would rescue.
Finally, he unfolded the third silk scroll.
This was the quatrain Lord Yuexi had written for him during his last challenge.
“Falling blossoms beneath the strings are all illusions; the moon in the cup has never possessed a heart.”
At the time, Li Ziao had mistakenly believed that Lord Yuexi was lamenting the emptiness of the performances he put on at Shuyu Pavilion, grieving that his heart had turned to ash after wandering through the mortal world.
The poem had pierced him to the heart.
He had spent three whole days pondering it, convinced he had finally composed the most sincere and wholehearted lines of his life.
“Then I shall draw my long sword and cleave these empty shadows apart; I would carve open my heart and entrails to exchange them for your frozen heart.”
He had wanted to tell Lord Yuexi that if all the splendor before him was nothing but illusion, then he would draw his sword and cut through the mist for him.
Even if Lord Yuexi’s heart had long since frozen into ice and lost all feeling, Li Ziao was willing to offer up his own burning blood and innermost sincerity to bring warmth back to it.
Back then, he had confidently believed that this time, he would surely move Lord Yuexi’s heart.
“Heh…”
A faint, cold laugh echoed through the quiet study.
It was filled with contempt for the self-righteous fool he had once been.
How ironic.
Lord Yuexi had already made himself perfectly clear.
The falling blossoms beneath the qin’s strings and the moon in the cup were all nothing but false images, performances put on for others.
And what had Li Ziao done?
From beginning to end, he had failed to understand a single thing. He had remained immersed in his own self-congratulatory fantasy, believing that a heart full of passion was enough to rescue someone from suffering. His arrogance and conceit had blinded him.
It had been a half-open door.
Lord Yuexi had never promised what lay beyond it. He had simply placed a poem before each visitor, again and again, observing how they would respond.
Only now, after surviving the cold arrow at the abandoned kiln, witnessing the schemes of the imperial court, and learning that Lord Yuexi was actually Wu Jiuling, the surviving heir of the Wu family, did Li Ziao finally awaken to the truth.
It had never been because his poetry was not refined enough.
It was because every time, he had answered with the words he wanted to hear himself.
Lord Yuexi’s practice of “entertaining guests with poetry” had never been about finding literary men to indulge in elegant pastimes.
It was a touchstone—a rigorous test of a visitor’s character, breadth of mind, powers of observation, and political awareness.
Three times, Li Ziao had thought he was simply responding to poetry.
Only now did he realize that what Lord Yuexi might truly have been examining was how a person saw others, how he understood himself, and whether he was willing to admit his ignorance and arrogance when reality proved different from what he had imagined.
And Li Ziao had failed spectacularly.
He had lost every single round.
Li Ziao drew a deep breath and reached into the box, taking out the final, thin slip of paper.
The handwriting on it was not Lord Yuexi’s own. Some time ago, when he heard that Prince Yi, Xiao Ying, had taken Lord Yuexi under his exclusive patronage, he had privately gone to the trouble of copying down their poetic exchange.
Over the past year, Shuyu Pavilion’s poetry challenge had turned away countless self-proclaimed literary geniuses. Only Prince Yi had emerged victorious with a single response, causing a sensation throughout the capital.
Although Prince Yi had spent years frequenting the pleasure quarters, he had never truly fallen for anyone or spent a fortune on a single person. Yet upon entering a male brothel for the first time, he had lavishly paid to secure Lord Yuexi exclusively for himself.
Their poetic exchange had consequently spread through the capital’s literary circles, inspiring all manner of romantic speculation and becoming celebrated as one of the greatest love stories ever told in the pleasure quarters.
It was said to be the tale of an aloof, proud male courtesan, a man with an icy exterior and unyielding pride, meeting a worldly prince experiencing the stirrings of love for the first time—a battle of elegant verses filled with exquisite tension.
The slip of paper clearly recorded the challenge Lord Yuexi had presented to Xiao Ying that day.
“An empty silk fan waves before drunken eyes; though flying snow is lovely, it falls into the dust.”
The two lines were exceptionally sharp and merciless, mocking Xiao Ying for being a prince who should have been as pure and noble as snow falling from the heavens, yet had willingly descended into the dust of the pleasure quarters and surrendered himself to wine and sensual indulgence.
With a single strike of proud, lofty disdain, Lord Yuexi had delivered an unapologetic challenge to the prince’s authority. He had trampled the royal’s dignity without hesitation, declaring that Prince Yi was nothing more than a dissolute man who had chosen to debase himself in a corrupt world.
An ordinary nobleman confronted with such public ridicule would either storm away in fury, retaliate with a few sour verses, or humbly flatter the person who had insulted him.
But Xiao Ying belonged to none of those categories.
After reading the poem, he had not become angry. Instead, he had calmly written a matching couplet.
“Even dust may receive the jade dew from heaven; when the clouds over Mount Wu break, old traces come to light.”
In the eyes of those who knew nothing of the truth, Prince Yi had refused to use his royal authority to suppress the other man. Instead, he had transformed a humiliating slap into an impeccable declaration of affection through the sheer brilliance of his poetry.
The literati interpreted it as Prince Yi overcoming harshness with gentleness.
By accepting the word “dust” and turning it into self-deprecation, he had seized control of the exchange, as though saying:
Even dust is fortunate enough to receive the nourishing jade dew bestowed by heaven. And when the clouds finally disperse, we may discover traces of a bond that has linked us since a previous life.
Everyone believed this was the pinnacle of flirtatious banter.
They believed Prince Yi’s willingness to humble himself out of love had finally opened the door to Lord Yuexi’s inscrutable heart.
A proud, dazzlingly beautiful literary figure from the pleasure quarters and a peerless libertine who treated the world as his playground had completed a remarkable exchange of questions and answers about love, amid the fragrance of wine and the sound of the qin.
Yet now, as Li Ziao stared at the seven characters meaning “when the clouds over Mount Wu break, old traces come to light,” he found himself unable to look away.
In the past, he might have dismissed the verse along with the other pedantic scholars, assuming it was merely another example of Prince Yi’s customary flirtatious wordplay.
But now that he knew Wu Jiuling’s true origins, the character “Wu” in “Mount Wu” made him inexplicably hold his breath.
He did not know whether Xiao Ying had chosen those words deliberately at the time. He did not know whether they were merely an allusion drawn from classical poetry, or whether Xiao Ying had already discerned something unusual at their very first meeting.
But one thing was now absolutely clear to him.
There was not the slightest trace of romantic flattery or amorous sentiment in Xiao Ying’s verse.
Xiao Ying had not denied being “dust.” He had accepted the mockery without hesitation.
Yet what he saw had never been the stunningly beautiful star courtesan of Shuyu Pavilion. He had not regarded Lord Yuexi as a pitiful soul in need of rescue, nor as a canary that could only survive inside a gilded cage.
He was speaking to a soul that knew what it wanted and carried the weight of a painful past.
Xiao Ying had calmly accepted Lord Yuexi’s barb, seen through his disguise, and conveyed a quiet, unwavering message:
I can be the force that breaks through the clouds and lets you see the sky.
“So… that’s how it was.”
In the dim study, Li Ziao murmured softly.
There was no jealousy left in his voice, only the desolation and relief of someone waking from a long dream.
Xiao Ying had seen what was truly hidden beneath that name.
Li Ziao, meanwhile, had seen only the imaginary figure he had created in his own mind—a shadow of someone who needed to be rescued.
That was why Lord Yuexi had chosen Xiao Ying instead of him.
Li Ziao slowly folded the slip of paper and placed it back in the nanmu box alongside the three silk scrolls.
With a soft click, he closed the copper lock.
In the past, he had failed to understand and had envied Xiao Ying for using his power to snatch away the person he loved.
Now he understood.
Lord Yuexi had never denied him the opportunity. Those three silk scrolls had been three separate tests.
It was his own ignorance and foolishness that had prevented him from giving the answer Lord Yuexi truly wanted even once.
Xiao Ying had not stolen Lord Yuexi away from him.
Li Ziao had lost his chance all by himself.
Looking back on his past enthusiasm and recklessness, he now found himself laughably foolish, like a clown performing alone on a stage.
But there was no medicine for regret in this world.
Everything had happened too late.
Li Ziao leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
Having passed through that brush with death, he had finally shed the confusion and childish naivety in his heart.
He was no longer the spoiled young master who could do nothing but shout about eloping with someone.
He knew perfectly well that he still liked Lord Yuexi. That youthful flutter of the heart, that concern which had come from the depths of his being, had not simply vanished because the truth had been revealed.
But for the first time, he understood something important.
Liking someone did not mean he had the right to decide which path that person should take.
He would no longer demand that Lord Yuexi return his feelings, nor would he use “protection” as his sole excuse to approach him.
If he still hoped to have even the slightest place in this man’s world, then at the very least, he had to learn not to become a burden to him.
He opened his eyes and looked at the cold moon outside the window. His gaze gradually grew deeper and more resolute.
Tomorrow, he would report for duty and begin patrolling Prince Yi’s residence.
In the past, he had approached Prince Yi’s residence with nothing but the desire to snatch Lord Yuexi away.
This time, he would enter its gates to see for himself where Lord Yuexi truly wished to go.
He wanted only to lift the veil of mist and genuinely understand—
What kind of person was Wu Jiuling, really?
What was he doing during these long, dark nights?
What did he want?
And why had he become entangled in this deadly storm of political intrigue and assassination, one capable of grinding a person to dust?
Li Ziao rose to his feet and pushed the nanmu box firmly into the deepest corner of his desk.
The night breeze was cool, stirring the hem of his clothes.
He touched the wound on his right shoulder, which had yet to heal. There was no longer any hesitation in his eyes, only a cold, unwavering determination.
If he wanted to protect what he held dear, then he had no choice but to sharpen himself into a much keener blade.
This time, he would not go forward with his eyes closed.