Late at night, Jiang Yinyue went to bed in a huff, her head resting on one arm, her back turned outward.
Her slightly swollen lips remained a vivid crimson, with a lingering tingly sensation.
A sour feeling also lingered in her heart.
Accustomed to Wei Qin’s favoritism, she had grown greedy, wanting to monopolize all of his attention.
The woman fell asleep harboring these sour thoughts, her dream-filled murmurs coming in fits and starts.
After bathing, Wei Qin stood by the bed, wringing out his hair while gazing at the “chrysalis” that occupied the entire rack bed.
She always sulked like this, wrapping herself up tight as could be.
Worried she would suffocate herself, he gently pulled down the quilt for her a bit.
The night was dark and gloomy, the moon dim and faint. The man slid down to sit by the bed in the silence, his legs slightly apart, stretched out in the glow from the window.
Counting the days, soon after the Yide Empress’s death anniversary came the death anniversary of the Eldest Prince, Wei Yihe.
Wei Qin leaned back, pillowing his head on the edge of the bed, the back of his head sinking into the soft quilt corner. He stared at a shaft of cold light in the darkness, raised his hand, and gripped it as if holding an icy dagger.
“Give me back my mother!”
When the dagger plunged into the Shunren Emperor’s abdomen, all the Eldest Prince’s wealth and glory crumbled to nothing.
The rolling carriage wheels clattered over the rugged hidden path, heading straight for the most desolate traveling palace.
No different from the Cold Palace.
If not for his tender age of four, the Shunren Emperor might have taken his eldest son’s life with his own hands.
“Unfilial and ominous. We spare your life out of regard for your youth and ignorance.”
“If you dare return to the capital on your own, We will make the entire Cui Clan bury you with him.”
That year, to suppress the Cui Clan and guard against Lady Dong, the Shunren Emperor promoted another great clan, the Jiang Clan.
A tripod of power, checking each other.
Jiang Clan head Jiang Song also transferred from the dreaded Northern Pacification Division to the Ministry of Justice, and not long after, rose to the rank of second-grade Minister of Justice.
Once in office, Jiang Song acted with thunderous vigor, weakening the Northern Pacification Division’s authority. He merged most of its elite Ti Riders into the Ministry of Justice, even taking over the Imperial Prison cases granted by the emperor himself. In doing so, he bolstered the ministry’s duties of arrest, interrogation, and execution, thoroughly sidelining the Northern Pacification Division’s subordinate Embroidered Uniform Guard Command.
The Censorate and Dali Temple, the two law courts, no longer had to suffer under the arrogant Embroidered Uniform Guard Command thanks to the Ministry of Justice’s rise.
Jiang Song became the Shunren Emperor’s Imperial Sword.
But an Imperial Sword too sharp could sometimes wound its wielder. The Shunren Emperor did not wish for Jiang Song’s daughter to wed the Crown Prince.
An Imperial Sword and a dagger…
Wei Qin’s hand, turning in a shaft of moonlight, suddenly clenched tight.
When the myriad lamps of the households went out and the rooster crowed at dawn, the bailiffs searching for Yan Zhuyu found a person in a secret chamber.
The woman lay unconscious, gaunt and disheveled.
“It’s her! Report it at once!”
Early in the morning at the Salt Transport Office, the accounting officials bustled about ceaselessly, exceptionally busy.
Wei Xichen, who had been discussing the salvage of underwater stolen goods with Wei Qin, paused abruptly when Lin Yu came to report, leaving an ink blot on the blueprint.
After a brief pause, Wei Xichen continued drawing and discussing countermeasures with Wei Qin and the others.
When asked about the difficulties of salvage and excavation, Wei Qin answered fluently.
The lord and his minister coordinated seamlessly; the other officials noticed nothing amiss.
Only at dusk did Wei Xichen suddenly call out to Wei Qin, who was about to leave his post.
“Advisor Wei, hold.”
Wei Qin stepped back from the departing officials and stood by Wei Xichen’s desk.
As night fell, the two arrived at the posthouse one after the other.
Wei Xichen strode past Yan Zhuyu, who knelt outside the small chamber.
Wei Qin followed close behind, sparing her not even a glance.
Yan Zhuyu shuffled forward on her knees, her kneecaps aching painfully as she crossed the threshold. Her frail and delicate appearance still held a touch of pitiable charm.
“Your Highness, Your Highness, please see justice done for this concubine…” She shuffled to Wei Xichen’s feet and looked up at the man seated at the table with his legs crossed. “On the way out of the city, Han Jian escorted this concubine, but we were ambushed and kidnapped! Those people threatened me to testify that Jiang Yinyue didn’t escape alone three years ago—they were sent by the Jiang Clan! Your Highness, please investigate thoroughly!”
After a moment of silence, Wei Xichen did not grow angry but laughed instead. “Do you think We would believe you again?”
“Manager Xie! The leader was named Xie Jingcheng, the manager of a jewelry shop. Your Highness, just interrogate him!”
She had already told the prefect these things. Lin Yu, to be cautious, specially sent men to summon Xie Jingcheng, only to hear from the shop assistants that their manager had been dodging around lately and had fled the city to avoid trouble.
It stemmed from Yan Zhuyu’s grudge over the Eastern Pearls; she had harassed him repeatedly and even sent a swordsman who nearly broke the manager’s leg.
The bailiffs followed the trail to Han Jian, who confirmed the matter.
Yan Zhuyu shook her head frantically. “No, it’s not like that! It really was Manager Xie who kidnapped this concubine. He even called a masked man ‘Young Master’!”
Wei Xichen avoided her reaching hand. “The only one the Jiang Clan would call Young Master is Jiang Taolue, far away at the border. Does he have a cloning technique? You still want to slander the Jiang Clan?”
“This concubine is not lying!”
“Your lies are plentiful enough.” Wei Xichen’s tone was even, spoken lightly, yet it plunged Yan Zhuyu into an icy abyss. “Men, take her away and guard her strictly. Once back in the capital, We will affirm her as the Jiang Family’s Daughter, then send her to the Laundry Bureau as a slave.”
Yan Zhuyu’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets. For an official’s wife to become a slave was tantamount to half her life ruined; being sent to the man-eating Laundry Bureau was a fate worse than death.
One of the harshest punishments in the rear palace was demotion to slave in the Laundry Bureau.
She collapsed powerlessly, choking back sobs. “For the sake of our past affections, Your Highness, please show mercy.”
“We already showed you mercy once. How did you repay Us?”
With deception, unrepentant deception.
“Because of you, the Jiang Family’s Daughter suffered slanders. You will repay it a thousandfold.”
“Your Highness!”
“Take her away.”
The guards stepped forward and dragged away the weeping Yan Zhuyu.
Wei Qin, standing to the side, glanced at the Crown Prince immersed in thought, similarly pensive. The Crown Prince had ordered him to accompany and witness this, no doubt to let Jiang Yinyue learn of the events indirectly through him.
A faint, mocking curve brushed the young transport judge’s lips, unnoticed.
Seated at the desk, Wei Xichen tapped his forehead with a finger, mulling over Yan Zhuyu’s words. Though he voiced distrust, he had to track down Manager Xie and investigate the ins and outs.
This was the sole personnel lead in the kidnapping and interception cases, and from an expert in Mechanism Arts to boot.
As for the Young Master…
Wei Xichen exited the small chamber and dispatched several dark guards to lurk near the Xie family jewelry shop and the homes of those who had frequent dealings with Xie Jingcheng, watching closely.
The obituary for the Eastern Palace Liangdi was withdrawn; whether it reached the palace hardly concerned him. What mattered more was capturing that group of mysterious people.
On his way back, he saw Wei Qin still standing by the desk, unmoving as the breeze stirred his robes.
Wei Xichen shook his head. “Advisor Wei stands like an ancient tree.”
“This minister is more like driftwood.”
It had to do with his youthful experiences—orphaned young, drifting from place to place.
“Come with Us.”
The two arrived at the water’s edge where salvage was about to commence. Wei Qin squatted on the ground, unrolled the blueprint, and weighted the four corners with picked-up stones, earnestly analyzing how the carpenters and craftsmen should coordinate.
Wei Xichen listened to Wei Qin’s logical analysis, his hand unconsciously rubbing the white jade pendant at his waist, hidden in his sleeve.
Grand Tutor Cui’s teachings still rang in his ears: “Your Highness should be benevolent and just.”
Though the Cui and Dong families harbored grudges, benevolence and justice were qualities the Heir Apparent should possess.
Yet he had indeed underestimated Wei Qin’s magnanimity.
“Your scholarly breadth is renowned in the court.” Wei Xichen sat casually on a boulder by the water. “With your background, traveling far and wide, you accumulated knowledge, and reading broadens learning. In time, one becomes erudite. But one thing puzzles Us: who taught you your martial arts, Advisor Wei?”
A civil official who could fight usually came from a wealthy background, yet among them, Wei Qin’s talents and skills led by a wide margin—even the most renowned poor scholar noble son, Tao Qian, had not achieved such mastery in both civil and martial pursuits.
“This minister learned by stealth at a martial hall in his youth. Some talent, perhaps.”
Learned by stealth… Wei Xichen chuckled in amusement, then happened to glimpse three figures emerging from the nearby Zhou Family Clinic.
A frail woman in watery blue skirts was supported by a maid, with a woman in purple skirts at her side.
Wei Xichen’s gaze fixed in that direction.
Jiang Yinyue, in her purple skirt, seemed to sense it and looked over, her eyes landing first on Wei Qin.
Wei Qin instinctively stood and took a step forward.
“Advisor Wei.”
Wei Xichen smiled faintly, saying no more, trapping Wei Qin’s steps with his effortless authority.
A minister could not ignore his lord.
But Jiang Yinyue did not rush to Wei Qin as usual. She gave him a cool glance, turned back to her sister-in-law, and ignored him at her sister-in-law’s reminder.
Noticing the anomaly, Wei Xichen rubbed his jade pendant. Husband-and-wife squabbles were commonplace, yet a subtle unease stirred in his heart.
“Continue.”
Wei Qin stared at Jiang Yinyue’s receding back, then turned, walked back to the blueprint.
On the way back, Wei Xichen clasped the blueprint behind his back. “The Salt Transport Envoy position sits vacant and urgently needs filling. What say you, Advisor Wei?”
Wei Qin spoke frankly. “This minister is unequal to the task.”
“Too modest. You will serve as acting Salt Transport Envoy for now. Once We return to the palace, We will have the Ministry of Personnel handle the appointment.”
With that, Wei Xichen strode ahead, no longer walking abreast with Wei Qin.
Mild, yet brooking no argument.
In the Yan Hongchang case, Wei Qin had performed invaluable service. No doubt Tao Qian would vie for him before the emperor to win him over, while his outer grandfather, to soothe Jiang Song, might outmaneuver by recommending Wei Qin for the Cabinet instead.
Wei Xichen crumpled the blueprint in his hand again and again. As the salt inspection imperial censor for this Yangzhou trip, the Father Emperor would consult his views on Wei Qin’s promotion before deciding.
He had still underestimated Wei Qin’s magnanimity!
Wei Qin stood on the long street by the posthouse, unmoving for a long while. The setting sun shone on his back, brilliant yet fleeting.
The Salt Transport Envoy post was undoubtedly a lucrative one; without restraint, it could inflate greedy desires. Many corrupt officials had failed the test.
Yan Hongchang was a prime example—three years of wealth, then life forfeit.
Was the Crown Prince’s move trust in his character?
No.
It was not merely a test but a bid for his life.
That way, the Crown Prince could righteously reclaim what he loved.
Over three or five years, biding his time.
All above board.
As the golden crow sank in the west, Wei Qin walked homeward. Passing the neighbor’s as a dog’s bark rang out from his own gate—especially clear in the quiet alley.
Wei Qin’s steps remained steady. When hurried footsteps suddenly sounded behind him, he did not turn immediately. Only when the person fully emerged into the moonlight did he counter-grab the short blade thrusting at his waist, twisting the attacker’s knife hand while yanking off the face mask with his left.
A scornful laugh escaped his thin lips.
“Lord Xu, why offer this humble one such a grand gift?”
Grand gift? The failed assassin looked puzzled, then ferocious, pain unbearable. “Ah!!”
This was one of the scoundrels from the Yan Hongchang case who had not yet been traced.
His wife was right: stay put, and the guilty would jump the wall in desperation.
He had delivered himself.
Wei Qin twisted the man’s wrist again and again, ignoring the sweat of agony, but when another set of footsteps approached from behind, he abruptly released, letting the short blade pierce his clothes.
“Wei Qin!”
Jiang Yinyue rushed forward, kicking the man in the gut.
Qi Bao bared its bloody maw and bit the man’s leg.
But the fourteen-year-old dog had few teeth left and could not inflict much harm.
The middle-aged Lord Xu tumbled to the ground, staring in terror at the hound pouncing on him. “Ahh…”
Jiang Yinyue supported Wei Qin, worry plain on her face.
Wei Qin gripped the knife hilt, his body slanting, swaying as if about to fall, leaning on his wife.
“Wei Qin!”
The Wei family rushed out at the noise. Lady Zhang slapped her thigh and nudged her dazed son Wei Xin. “Quick, go to the clinic and fetch the physician!”
Lady Gu paled in fright and hurried to support her son.
Wei Bochun, the eldest young master of the Wei Family who had just returned home, stepped forward to help. Yet he heard Wei Qin say weakly, “Elder Uncle, please make a trip to the post station and inform His Highness the Crown Prince that your nephew has been resented by many officials of the Salt Transport Office. If he stays in Yangzhou, he fears retaliation and worries for his life. He cannot take on the post of salt transport envoy.”
“What?”
Wei Qin gripped his elder uncle’s wrist with full strength. “Do as your nephew says!”
“Alright, alright, alright.”
Wei Bochun hurried off toward the post station.
Wei Qin drew his dagger and hurled it at the middle-aged man surnamed Xu, knocking him out with the hilt.
“Yinyue, help your husband back to the room.”
Jiang Yinyue paid no mind to her soreness. With life at stake, what grudge was there to hold? She even wanted to scoop him up in a princess carry!
Wei Qin put his arm around her shoulder and straightened up. “You can’t carry me. Just help me back.”
Soon after, Wei Xin, that silly and honest fellow, dragged and hauled a nearby physician to the Wei Family.
Thinking it was a life-or-death emergency, the physician shooed everyone out of the East Wing Room. “This is an urgent matter. Do not disturb this old man’s treatment!”
Who would have thought the knife tip had merely grazed the skin, leaving only a shallow scratch on those firm abdominal muscles.
“This…”
Wei Qin sat up unhurriedly, his tone low and lingering. “Bandage it.”
While the physician borrowed the stove to decoct medicine, someone sent by the Crown Prince arrived to offer condolences and conveniently took away the assassin.
After inquiring about Wei Qin’s injuries from the physician, Fu Zhongcai entered the East Wing Room to convey the Crown Prince’s greetings to Wei Qin.
“Transport Judge Wei’s injuries are serious. He must rest well and avoid getting angry. This servant will report everything truthfully to Your Highness.”
“Thank you for your trouble, Manager Fu.”
Once the East Wing Room quieted down, Wei Qin looked at Jiang Yinyue sitting by the bed and reassured her. “It’s nothing serious.”
“Let me see the wound.”
“It’s already bandaged.”
Jiang Yinyue always felt something was off. If it were a serious injury, it should have been a blade going in clean and coming out bloody. Yet in the chaos, she had vaguely noticed no blood on the dagger tip. But when she handed it to Fu Zhongcai, there had been dried blood on the tip.
Care makes one chaotic. Now that things had calmed, she wanted to verify her suspicions. Her small hands kept tugging at Wei Qin’s clothes, pushing them up with effort.
On the left side of his firm, contoured abdomen, blood seeped through the bandage.
It was shocking to behold.
She looked at the wound, then at Wei Qin. In their staring contest, she cautiously extended her slender index finger and poked it lightly.
Poked again.
A large hand covered her small one, pressing it down hard.
“No!”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“You…” Jiang Yinyue confirmed her guess. Thinking of that line about being “unable to take on the post of salt transport envoy,” she realized this was Wei Qin’s roundabout strategy against Wei Xichen.
Yet she still felt lingering fear.
What if the assassin had peerless martial arts, or many accomplices?
“It’s too dangerous. We won’t do this salt transport envoy business.”
Wei Qin stuffed a soft pillow behind him and leaned against the bed’s railing, once again becoming that taciturn gourd in Jiang Yinyue’s eyes.
She pushed at his arm. “Say something.”
“With a wife like this, what more could a husband ask for?”