“If you missed me, then don’t hold back. Let them call me; no matter how busy I was, I would have come to see you.”
“Ah?” Yu Jinnian was momentarily dazed. He then turned uncertain, not knowing if he felt surprise or fear. “You woke up?”
“You planned to become a monk?” Ji Hong moved closer, word by word, and his eyes grew redder.
Yu Jinnian looked totally perplexed. “I…”
“I don’t allow it.” Before he could explain, Ji Hong clamped down on his wrist, squeezing it hard, as though once he let go, he would never see him again. Yu Jinnian felt a bit of pain, yet he had no idea what Ji Hong’s mind had conjured up. Seeing Yu Jinnian’s troubled expression, Ji Hong’s bravado instantly weakened. He was afraid of hurting him, but also afraid to release him. He could only repeat in a low voice, “I didn’t allow you to become a monk.”
“I didn’t. I didn’t,” Yu Jinnian said helplessly. “Let’s go home first.”
Ji Hong had just awakened from a long dream and still felt muddled. He had also managed to frighten himself. Now, the more he thought about it, the more he believed Yu Jinnian was merely patronizing him. So no matter what Yu Jinnian said, he simply refused to let go. The two pulled and tugged at each other. Yu Jinnian used both threats and temptations, all but cutting his heart open to make a vow of assurance. However, Ji Hong only half believed his promise of “not becoming a monk,” yet at least he was willing to go home with Yu Jinnian.
Duan Ming and the others, hiding among the crowd, finally breathed a sigh of relief when they saw the two heading back.
Once they entered the courtyard and returned to the room, intending to have a proper talk, Yu Jinnian suddenly noticed that Ji Hong’s other hand, hidden in his sleeve, seemed to be wounded and had stained the cuff with patches of blood. Ji Hong himself appeared oblivious, his eyes fixed on Yu Jinnian, following his every step.
Seeing Yu Jinnian glance at his hand, Ji Hong abruptly hid it behind him, pretending as though nothing was amiss.
“…” Yu Jinnian wondered how he had never discovered Ji Hong’s knack for self-deception. He said irritably, “Show me.”
Ji Hong shook his head and took two steps back, trying to hide it.
Yu Jinnian looked toward where he was hiding it and caught sight of a flash of cold light. Next, that glimmer was blocked by Ji Hong’s body, revealing only half a translucent ruby. At his feet under the bed lay the small trunk Yu Jinnian had brought from the capital, partially pulled out. Thinking for a moment, Yu Jinnian understood. That trunk had contained only some private silver and essential salves and medicines. Later, when he grew busy fighting the epidemic, he feared that in a crowd, someone might steal his precious curved dagger, so he had stored it in the same trunk. Unexpectedly, Ji Hong had fished it out just now.
“Jinnian…” Ji Hong called softly.
Yu Jinnian noticed he had finally stopped calling him ‘Second Brother’ and felt secretly delighted, though on the surface, he continued to furrow his brow and pretend to be angry. Ji Hong only recalled a few key moments from his delirium. On careful reflection, his memories were hazy, and he worried he might have said more things he shouldn’t have, angering Yu Jinnian.
Yu Jinnian stared coldly at him for a moment, then abruptly turned to leave. Ji Hong’s heart lurched. Without thinking, he reached out and yanked Yu Jinnian’s sleeve. In summer, the fabric was thin, and a part of the sleeve had already been torn earlier. Now, with Ji Hong’s forceful pull, there was a ripping sound—“chzzz”—and half the sleeve tore off straightaway.
“…”
Yu Jinnian stood speechless for a bit. He flung away the torn sleeve and marched out without looking back.
“Jin…” He hadn’t even finished saying ‘Nian’ when the door slammed shut with a bang, leaving Ji Hong behind.
Was he mad? Of course not. Yu Jinnian had no time to be angry with a sick man. He had gone to fetch the medical kit. On the way, he told the kitchen to put the dough he had set aside earlier into the steamer. He also asked them to steam a small millet cake, then brew a decoction for soothing the liver and regulating the flow of qi.
He felt somewhat aggrieved and wanted to calm himself. He also intended to leave Ji Hong hanging for a while. After all these days, he had believed that they had opened up their hearts and spoken about everything, yet Ji Hong still harbored a knot in his heart, burying such a big hidden danger.
Meanwhile, he felt like a fool, thinking he knew Ji Hong so well, when in truth, he knew nothing about him.
When the medicinal brew was ready, the Poria millet cake in the steamer was also done. Carrying the food box in one hand and the medicine kit in the other, Yu Jinnian returned to the room an hour later. Twilight crept across the sky; thin clouds draped the city, gradually darkening it. Normally, it would be far from lamp-lighting time, but because Ji Hong had been ill the previous day, Yu Jinnian feared he was afraid of the dark. Early this morning, he had ordered the servants to light the lamps ahead of time. Thus, lanterns had been lit one after another around the small courtyard.
Yu Jinnian assumed that although Ji Hong seemed awake, judging by his absurd behavior on the street, his mind was not fully clear. After an entire afternoon of commotion, he must have been exhausted and would likely be resting. To his surprise, the moment he quietly opened the door, he heard the soft rustling sound of clothing. Ji Hong sprang up, watching him carefully. He still clutched the half-torn sleeve from Yu Jinnian’s shirt.
Realizing it was indeed him, Ji Hong’s eyes lit up again.
Yu Jinnian placed the medical kit and the food box on the table, took clean gauze and powdered medicine, went over, pressed Ji Hong down on the couch, and turned over his palm to tend to the wound, kneeling half by his side to clean, medicate, and bandage him. He moved gently, worrying about causing Ji Hong pain. Ji Hong, however, preferred more pain if it proved Yu Jinnian truly stood before him.
It felt like a great dream from which he had suddenly awakened. One short day felt like a lifetime.
“Don’t move. You want a scar? You’re a grown man who couldn’t even hold a knife properly. Luckily, it was just a surface wound. If you had cut a tendon, you’d never be able to pick up a brush again! Then all the young ladies in the capital would despise you!” Yu Jinnian raised his head to scold him, but Ji Hong instead smiled. Yu Jinnian found it eerie and snapped, “You really lost your mind? What are you smiling at?”
Ji Hong watched him intently and murmured, “Don’t become a monk. Don’t abandon me.”
Yu Jinnian asked in puzzlement, “When did I ever say I’d become a monk? I never intended to abandon you. Where did you even get all this nonsense?”
He noticed Ji Hong glancing worriedly at the statue of Buddha and the wooden fish on the table. At that, he finally understood the crux of the problem and couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation. Still, considering Ji Hong’s ailment was rooted in his mind, it was understandable for his thoughts to differ from those of an ordinary person. So Yu Jinnian explained patiently, “I merely went to buy incense, but that shopkeeper had a glib tongue. He sweet-talked me into buying a gilded Buddha statue, claiming that worshipping it would cure your delirium. I was desperate and foolishly believed him. The wooden fish came free with the Buddha statue. The shopkeeper insisted on including it.”
He added, “With how gluttonous, money-loving, and lustful I was, even if I tried to join a monastery, they would’ve kicked me out for breaking all the rules.”
Ji Hong furrowed his brow slightly, still uneasy. “Then about five hundred taels, why did you accept…”
“What five hundred taels?” Yu Jinnian felt momentarily confused. But just then, a flustered scuffle sounded outside—the bodyguards who had been eavesdropping accidentally made some noise. Duan Ming realized his good intentions had made things worse and was about to slip away when Yu Jinnian finally caught on and roared angrily, “All of you, go grind medicine! Don’t even think about sleeping until you grind all that in the courtyard tonight!”
Duan Ming and the others answered the order and hurriedly fled, rolling and scrambling as they went.
Yu Jinnian turned back. He had just finished tying the final knot on Ji Hong’s bandage, deliberately drawing near, raising his brows at him. “If you truly wanted to chase me away, I’d simply go. Would I still covet your five hundred taels? It’s just a few hundred taels. I could earn that on my own.”
He said this on purpose to rile Ji Hong, partly to avenge the wrong of having been used as a stand-in for the “Second Brother” the previous night. Ji Hong, however, had only just regained clarity and was far from his usual composure. Seeing Yu Jinnian so close, uttering those deliberately callous words, made him lose his temper, as though a flame flared up in his chest, burning so hot his breath came uneven. He fixed his gaze on the young man’s lips, watching them open and close.
Yu Jinnian kept talking, “If I really wanted to leave, I’d be gone without a trace, even if you turned the world upside down looking for me. Would you still be able to just bump into me on some street?”
Before he finished, Ji Hong leaned in to silence him, biting down hard.
“…” Yu Jinnian was caught off guard, but he soon yielded. Ji Hong was anything but gentle, biting his lower lip until it hurt. Yet Yu Jinnian did not push him away; half resisting, half allowing it, he let Ji Hong have his way. The kiss went on for a while, but it wasn’t particularly pleasant—more like a one-sided pressuring. After a moment, Yu Jinnian was nearly forced to his knees before Ji Hong finally pulled back a little, a deeper color in his eyes.
“When you weren’t here, I sat for an hour, thinking,” Ji Hong murmured, cupping his chin in one hand, caressing it for a while, then squeezing his hand. “Thinking what I should do if you didn’t want me anymore.”
Yu Jinnian asked softly, “What would you do?”
Ji Hong’s eyes darkened, and he suddenly tore off Yu Jinnian’s hair tie, binding his hands together, then whispered, “I’d just die.”
In that instant, Yu Jinnian’s eyes widened. Ji Hong spoke the word “die” with such certainty and without a shred of hesitation that Yu Jinnian could not help believing that if such a day ever came, Ji Hong truly would do it. Just like that time, in the humble noodle shop where Yu Jinnian first saw him—this incredibly elegant man wore an expression void of any will to live, as though he had come looking for a perfect spot to end it all.
It was precisely that expression, showing no attachment to the world, which made Yu Jinnian decide on the spur of the moment to invite him to stay for a meal. That breath of wind, the falling leaves at that instant, changed the entire course of both their lives from that point on.
Had Ji Hong possessed half his usual rationality, he would never have said such things or done such deeds to Yu Jinnian. But his obsessions plagued him, and a perverse emotion grew inside. Rather than further guesswork over truths and falsehoods, threatening with death gripped Yu Jinnian’s healer’s heart more firmly than anything else. If Ji Hong had been clear-headed, he would not have voiced it, yet he wanted to live and die with him, to lie in the same grave when it ended, rotting together beneath the earth.
If Yu Jinnian refused, then the world held no reason for Ji Hong to linger.
Yu Jinnian glanced at his own hands tied by the hair tie, and then at the half-torn sleeve Ji Hong was still clutching, unwilling to discard. Yu Jinnian thought, wasn’t he the only one who wished to cling to the other? He bowed his head, kissed Ji Hong’s fingers, then moved upward, kissing along his throat. He sighed and said helplessly, “The sleeve is already torn. Could it still be mended? You’re this hopeless—immortals themselves couldn’t cure you. Alas… even if you were in hell, I’d wade in to save you. How could I let you die?”
A twitch flickered in Ji Hong’s eyes. In a single motion, he pushed Yu Jinnian down onto the couch.
On the table, the Buddha’s gaze was lowered, yet inside the bed canopy, no heed was paid as that bit of mercy was defiled.
Gold light scattered all over, silver clasps collided and came undone, and the soft moans grew deeper with fascination, dewy at the tips of their brows. Yu Jinnian sank into that tangle of desire, breathing in broken fragments, returning Ji Hong’s fervor in kind. But his hands were bound, and on the cusp of release, he could only pant softly, pleading, “Ah Hong…”
Ji Hong was unlike his usual self today; there was none of that gentle warmth. His actions were somewhat rough. Before, he hadn’t known what the salve beneath the bed was for, but now it dawned on him, so he simply gouged out a chunk without much care. Yu Jinnian had made that salve by blending flower essences and medicinal herbs into pig’s pancreas and beeswax. Seeing Ji Hong waste so much all at once, truth be told, Yu Jinnian felt a pang of heartache.
But there was no time for such trivialities now. One moment, he smelled faint rose; the next, he caught a sweet peach scent. Ji Hong rubbed this or that repeatedly, and Yu Jinnian thought he’d soon be gleaming with oil, only lacking a flame to roast him over.
Yu Jinnian had been spoiled by Ji Hong, especially in bed, always on the receiving end of gentle care. But tonight he felt on the brink of madness from the endless build-up. Ji Hong grew reckless, while Yu Jinnian was driven to distraction, soft to the point of collapse, murmuring, “Ah Hong… I want it.”
“I’ll give it to you.” Ji Hong pinched him hard, then silenced him with a kiss. “Right now, I’ll give it to you.”
Their two hearts pounded, pressed so tightly together yet seemingly never sated. They tore at each other, entwined, craving more, taking more, greed urging them on.
They had never lost control like this.
Unspoken words melted in the heat of their lips, dissolved against their skin.
Frenzied indulgence blended with an ecstatic pleasure, a web of desire ensnaring them. Even the Buddha statue on the table seemed unwilling to listen anymore, half-lidding its eyes in sorrow, gathering in its golden glow.
They swept through the night in a torrent of heat.
When the morning sun had just risen, they finally slept in each other’s arms. Yu Jinnian had been “taken care of” to the extreme and couldn’t remember when he closed his eyes. He only felt that in his dreams, he was still tumbling through a sea of dust, never quite knowing when he’d reach shore. Perhaps he should have asked the one steering.
He did recall that they seemed to have rested a few times in between, but each time Yu Jinnian felt drowsiness creeping over him, he sensed a weight on his body, and in an instant, that happy dream was shattered again.
By late morning, Yu Jinnian was still in a stupor when he felt someone fiddling with him. In a daze, he tried to pull his hand away, but his wrists still felt heavy. He let out a couple of soft whimpers, sounding almost like a plea, “I really can’t anymore… spare me…”
Ji Hong’s hand paused, his throat rolling slightly. But after a moment, he moved closer and untied the hair tie that had bound Yu Jinnian’s hands to the bedpost all night. He gently massaged those red marks and applied cool ointment.
Yu Jinnian fell back asleep. About the time it took to burn one stick of incense, he slowly opened his eyes. It took him a while for his vision to focus. Seeing Ji Hong sitting at the head of the bed, he tried to sit up.
But every muscle in his body ached terribly. Lifting an arm, he noticed a bruise had already formed.
He recalled that the worst of Ji Hong’s pinches the night before hadn’t even been on his arm. If his arm looked this bruised, other places must be in worse shape. Yu Jinnian thought about this, lifted the thin blanket, and took a look—sure enough, no clothes. His waist was covered in purple and green bruises. Along the underside, there was an unmistakable ring of neatly spaced teeth marks!
“………!”
What a beast!
Ji Hong quickly supported him, placing two pillows behind his waist. Wearing a worried expression, he asked, “Where does it hurt? Do you want some water first or maybe some porridge?”
Hearing him speak so calmly—so different from the gloomy, extreme manner of yesterday—Yu Jinnian felt such relief he nearly wanted to cry. He moved his leg and felt an ache and dull pain in a certain place; it had truly suffered a lot. He could not help but complain in a low voice, “What porridge? My stomach’s already full.”
“…” Ji Hong’s ears instantly tinged red. Feeling guilty, he said, “I’m sorry. Yesterday… I wasn’t too clear-headed, and I hurt you.”
Yu Jinnian complained again, “My mouth hurts…”
Ji Hong naturally understood why his mouth hurt. Hearing the young man’s voice indeed grow hoarse, he hurriedly rummaged through his medicine box, searching for throat-soothing, pain-relieving pills, but then hesitated—would these pills do anything for a throat injured by that sort of thing? Holding them in his hand, he could not decide whether to let him take them.
Yu Jinnian watched him for a moment, then beckoned. “Come here.”
Ji Hong obediently leaned closer, reaching out to feel his forehead. “Good, no fever.”
Yu Jinnian tilted his chin up. “Give me a kiss.”
Ji Hong took in the faint bruises under Yu Jinnian’s eyes, feeling sorry for him, so he slowly lowered his head and pressed his lips to his—soft as cotton, more for comfort than passion.
Yu Jinnian raised his head, seeing Ji Hong’s eyes, dark as an abyss in the daylight with a faint tinge of blue. He could not help admiring in his heart how lovely they were; such beautiful eyes were never meant to be dulled. He curved his lips slightly. “Awake now?”
Ji Hong nodded. “Yes.”
Yu Jinnian asked, “Do you remember what happened yesterday?”
Ji Hong dropped his gaze. “I remember some of it.”
Yu Jinnian said, “You begged me not to become a monk, not to leave you. Admit it?”
Ji Hong said, “I admit it.”
Yu Jinnian thought for a moment. “You begged me not to abandon you—admit it?”
Ji Hong found it hard to say but still nodded. “I admit it.”
Yu Jinnian began to tease. “Then you said you loved me so desperately that mountains crumbled and seas dried up; that if you couldn’t see me, you’d lose your appetite and lose your sleep; that neither night nor blazing sun could ever keep you from missing me; that neither the stars in heaven nor the lights on earth could compare to your love for me; that I was your heart, your liver, your precious darling… Do you admit to all that?”
“…” Ji Hong truly did not remember uttering such saccharine words. He tried hard to recall, and though yesterday’s memories remained fragmented, he could not deny the possibility.
Did he really say that?
He paused for a moment, and Yu Jinnian began making a fuss, “You said it so beautifully last night. My waist nearly snapped, my legs practically gave out. If I were a girl, who knows how many babies I’d already be carrying for you! But look at you—awake this morning and trying to deny it all. Fine, then, I’m off to become a monk!”
“I admit it,” Ji Hong blurted. “I admit everything.”
Yu Jinnian lay back happily, telling him to say “my dearest sweetheart” so he could hear it.
Ji Hong had no other choice. Summoning his courage, he uttered it once, practically making Yu Jinnian’s teeth ache from the sweetness. But it was nothing compared to the joy of teasing him.
Fearing he might recall some other syrupy lines, Ji Hong hastily brought over warm water and placed a towel so he could wipe Yu Jinnian down. After that wild night, Yu Jinnian was in no condition to get up and clean himself, and Ji Hong, being none too clear-headed back then, had not taken care of it until now that morning.
Although it had been rather exhausting yesterday, recalling it felt strangely exhilarating. Ji Hong felt an itching in his heart, while Yu Jinnian mused that perhaps Ji Hong had never actually been the perfect gentleman everyone believed—maybe he had been molded that way by his family.
Thinking that, he could not help feeling sorry for Ji Hong.
Yu Jinnian himself was an orphan but had an adoptive father’s love and a teacher’s care. Though he clung to the notion of “family,” the truth was that, up until his death, he did not suffer too much in terms of familial affection. Unlike Ji Hong, who clearly had a whole family yet in reality stood all alone, with only one brother who truly loved him—and even that brother had died to save him.
If the same circumstances had happened to him, he was not sure he could have done what Ji Hong did.
Coming back to himself, he realized Ji Hong had already wiped him clean and dry. Ji Hong then took out some ointment to apply to his bruises, but Yu Jinnian blocked him, reaching out for it. “I’ll do it myself. If you start getting ideas while applying it, I won’t survive another round of your torment.”
“…” Ji Hong did not know what to say, but he refused to hand it over. While rubbing the bruises on Yu Jinnian’s hips, he could not help but say, “Last night, you seemed to like it quite a bit.”
“Hmm??” Yu Jinnian glared at him over his shoulder.
Ji Hong added, “You said it felt good, and you begged me to do it more, to do it harder.”
“…” How did he remember so clearly?!
Yu Jinnian buried his face in the pillow, playing dead.
Ji Hong was not some brute. Although his current embarrassed state of hiding under the covers looked delicious and tender, the bruises and love bites all over him made Ji Hong hesitate to go any further. He merely tugged him out from beneath the blanket, gave him a close kiss, then went out to choose some soft clothes and helped him put them on.
“Just rest. I’ll go handle the affairs outside. Stay in bed a bit longer—don’t get up on your own. If you need anything or get hungry, just tell Duan Ming and the others. You, um… overused it back there, so it’s a bit swollen and red. Today, stick to soft, light foods and be sure not to overindulge. I’ll bring you some medicine when I return.”
He had returned to being the usual Ji Hong, the one who took care of everything down to the last detail.
Yu Jinnian mumbled, “No need for you to arrange every little thing. Besides, whose fault was that ‘overuse’? Mine?”
“It was my fault.” Ji Hong let out a small laugh, then pulled him close for another kiss. “You can put up with anything else, but if you miss me, don’t hold it in. Have them come get me, and no matter how busy I am, I’ll come see you.”
“Listen to you!” Yu Jinnian pulled the covers over his head and ignored him.
Ji Hong walked to the front hall. As soon as he entered, he saw Min Xuefei sitting in the main seat with a dark expression, eyes lowered, listening to several trembling subordinates report on various matters. Whenever someone’s report did not please him, he would slam the tea cup onto the table, frightening everyone into silence.
Shi Xing came up quietly and reported on the battle situation in Bei Di, adding that, in a while, a few of their own people would arrive for a discussion. Apparently, they had rushed here immediately upon receiving last night’s war report from the north, but Ji Hong had been too busy, so they were put up at a nearby inn.
As for why he was “busy,” it was naturally because he had been indulging himself.
Ji Hong nodded, then stepped further into the hall. When Min Xuefei saw him, his face grew even darker. Ji Hong had no idea how he had offended this young master Min, when he heard Min Xuefei’s sarcastic remark, “Well, Lord Ji is finally up! I thought you’d sleep till noon.”
“What’s wrong? Didn’t sleep well yesterday?” Ji Hong asked.
Min Xuefei thought, And you have the nerve to ask?! This courtyard is so small—walls pressed against walls, house next to house. With the racket you two made in your room, who could possibly get a good night’s sleep?! It’s even more infuriating that while other people have been worrying on your behalf, you snapped out of your daze and forgot your friends in favor of a lover.
Forget about sleeping well—one couldn’t even die in peace!
But with so many subordinates present, Min Xuefei could only grit his teeth and say, “The walls are thin. You just recovered; your health matters. Don’t catch a chill.”
Ji Hong sat down, picking up the secret memos by Min Xuefei’s hand and swiftly flipped through them. “Mm, it’s not cold in the house.”
Min Xuefei nearly spat blood. Cold or not was hardly the point—the point was the thin walls!
While Ji Hong reviewed the memos, Min Xuefei swallowed his anger, drew a deep breath, and finally calmed himself enough to say, “Jing Zhong woke last night. But seeing how busy you two were, I didn’t go in to disturb you. Master Luo already examined him, and he’s basically fine, just a bit weak.”
Ji Hong paused. “What did he say?”
Min Xuefei did not hurry to answer. Instead, he said, “You must promise you won’t lapse into madness again once you hear it, or else—if you just got better and then immediately went crazy again—the little doctor in your room might be willing to fight me to the death.”
Ji Hong set aside the memos, looking slightly troubled. “Maybe I was too fixated on that sword. I ended up thinking too deeply and got stuck in a dead end. If I show any signs of it again, just beat me awake.”
Min Xuefei was skeptical. “Beating you will do the trick? If only you’d said so earlier, the other day we’d have each given you a slap! We wouldn’t have had to go through all this trouble! You have no idea—your little doctor nearly decided to just let you think he was your brother forever. And that young master Jiang next door got so annoyed when he saw your state, he wanted to whack you, which made your little doctor blow a fuse.”
Ji Hong felt guilty about it all, knowing he had wronged Yu Jinnian. Still, the damage was done, so all he could do was think about how to make amends going forward.
Min Xuefei asked for confirmation, “So you’re really cured by getting beaten up?”
“Mm.” Ji Hong answered absentmindedly, “When I was younger, whenever I had an episode, Mother would send someone to beat me. I was so scared I wouldn’t have time to think about those random thoughts. After the beating, I’d come to my senses. As long as I felt pain, I’d wake up. If I didn’t wake up the first time, they’d do it again. Eventually, it always worked.”
“…”
He meant Lady Ji when he said “Mother.”
Min Xuefei had never imagined the cure for such an illness was this brutish and heartless method. Uncertain what else to say, he hurriedly pulled the topic back. “Now that Jing Zhong is awake, he’s proved a huge help to us.”
Ji Hong asked, “How so?”
Min Xuefei said, “Do you know where he stole the ‘Wuzai Sword’ from?”
Ji Hong’s eyes darkened. He had nurtured a suspicion for years but dared not believe it and had no way to verify. Now, seeing Min Xuefei’s cryptic expression, he recalled the possibility and ventured, “Could it be from Yuedi, the Prince of Yue’s manor?”
Min Xuefei tapped his folded fan. “Exactly so!”
“He’s still very weak and couldn’t speak much. I only asked him the main points,” Min Xuefei continued. “He said that while he was in Xin’an County, he was busy traveling everywhere to gather up your twelve lost guards. Then, by chance, he discovered that the Prince of Yue was plotting something, and his target was you. Fearing exposure, he cut off a bit of his robe to send you a warning.”
Ji Hong thought for a moment. “That did happen.”
“Later, he heard about the fire at the ‘One Bowl’ noodle shop, so he had doubts and secretly investigated. Sometimes he could contact us, and sometimes he vanished, all to uncover the truth. Then, just as Yan Chang traveled to the capital, Jing Zhong slipped into the Prince of Yue’s manor in disguise as a general laborer for two months.”
Min Xuefei picked up the ‘Wuzai Sword’ and said, “He found this sword in a hidden compartment within the secret chamber of the Prince of Yue’s manor. He replaced it with a similar one, sliding it back into Yan Chang’s original scabbard, and then put it back into the compartment. It wasn’t only the sword—there were also some exchanged letters. Since the matter is grave, he copied them and smuggled them out. Because Yan Chang suddenly returned to Yue, Jing Zhong couldn’t investigate further, so he had no choice but to pull out for the time being.”
He pulled out a stack of copied letters and let Ji Hong look them over.
“We can’t keep this hidden for long. We have to be prepared. But…” Min Xuefei frowned. “He did mention something odd.”
Ji Hong asked, “What is it?”
Min Xuefei said, “When Yan Chang returned to Yue, he brought along a boy with a gold chain attached between his ankles. Jing Zhong only saw him once from afar, but that boy’s behavior and manner—” he glanced at Ji Hong, “resembled your little doctor by about seventy or eighty percent. Yan Chang seemed very fond of him, taking him everywhere.”
“Disgusting,” Ji Hong remarked, showing no interest in such a filthy matter. “If he enjoys that sort of game, let him be. He does that revolting thing—am I supposed to stoop to it along with him?”
Min Xuefei gave a slight chuckle. “Naturally not. It was just something strange to mention to you.”
Before long, the people they had arranged to meet arrived. They were Ji Hong’s trusted aides, whom he had cultivated over many years. Now they were scattered all over, serving as eyes, ears, and spokesmen for the Ji and Min families. Two of them had come from Kangnan, their expressions unusually grave. They discussed the ongoing northern war, how the great families in the capital ought to conduct themselves, and some miscellaneous matters besides.
Those two from Kangnan couldn’t contain themselves and spoke up: “Recently, officials in the thirteen southern counties have been reshuffled frequently. West of Kangnan stands a range of lofty mountains, and after dark, the sound of drills and exercises often comes from there. A few woodcutters and hunters died as well. Locals say there’s an ancient battlefield with lingering ghosts. Now the local authorities have sealed off the mountain, but no one knows what they’re investigating inside.”
Min Xuefei tossed the stack of letters over to them from a distance. “Take a look.”
The two hurriedly caught and scrutinized them, turning pale with shock. “T-this… Prince of Yue wants to rebel?!”
Ji Hong did not speak of that but instead laughed. “It’s just some motley soldiers from Bei Di. Why should they dispatch two hundred thousand elite troops there, plus our dynasty’s two most courageous generals? They’re giving them far too much credit.”
He asked, “When will the war up north end?”
Min Xuefei looked at the sky, pondering. “Autumn is almost here. If that so-called two hundred thousand troops of He Luo’a are mostly for show, then by the end of the month, our army can reclaim the area beyond Beiyan Pass.” He paused as if struck by a thought. “Could it be…”
Ji Hong said “yes” softly. “If there are no accidents, by the end of the month, no later than mid next month, before the army that marched north returns, Yan Chang will certainly raise troops in Kangnan. Marching north from Kangnan to the capital is both the shortest and safest route.”
He ran his fingers over the hilt of the Wuzai Sword and suddenly said, “I’ll have to trouble you, Xuefei, to seal a secret letter asking Master Min to enter the palace and submit a petition requesting that my Ji family be sent to prison. Then I’ll need you and Master Min to handle things outside.”
The others cried out in surprise, “Why ask to be imprisoned?! This trip to deal with the floods and plague was a huge success—Lord Ji’s contributions have been invaluable. How could that turn into a crime?”
Ji Hong said, “This talk of heavenly punishment grows more rampant by the day, and our dynasty places much faith in ghosts and spirits, so someone must step forward to bear that stigma and relieve His Majesty’s immediate worries. Yan Chang is dead set on opposing me and likely won’t let me off so easily. By now, in the capital, memorials accusing me have probably piled up like mountains.”
Min Xuefei understood his meaning. “If no one imprisons the Ji family, then Yan Chang can ride into the capital under the banner of defending the realm, protecting the throne, and purging the emperor’s side of traitors. When that happens, he’ll rally countless supporters, and we’ll be on the defensive. Not only will the Ji family be powerless, my own father will be implicated too.”
Ji Hong nodded. “Exactly. And because His Majesty loves Elder Sister, he would never follow the ministers’ advice and deal with her. That leaves us stuck. We must break the deadlock. We’ll advise the emperor to consider the bigger picture for now—have Elder Sister move to the Cold Palace, so that from you, Xuefei, the game can resume. We can’t let ourselves all be trapped inside.”
Some of the others thought it over. What he said made sense. “If we manage to capture Yan Chang, then as for this heavenly punishment nonsense—just pin it all on him!”
They discussed the details in earnest until Duan Ming suddenly came in, looking very uncomfortable.
Ji Hong waved a hand, indicating that he should speak freely.
Duan Ming glanced around at all the people, still finding it awkward. He leaned closer, but Min Xuefei, holding a teacup, frowned. “Why do you all stammer as if you’re not properly trained? Did the Bei Di forces already march south or something?!”
“No, it’s nothing major…” Duan Ming said awkwardly.
Ji Hong said, “If it’s no big deal, speak up.”
Duan Ming pursed his lips, bracing himself. “Young Master said he’s in pain all over, and he misses you so much he can’t rest! He wants you to go feed him tea! And—and…” He took a deep breath, his face flushing crimson, his voice rising a notch. “He also wants you to hold him while you feed him!”
“Pffft—!”
Min Xuefei spewed a mouthful of hot tea, nearly choking on the spot.
Suddenly, the hall fell quiet enough to hear a pin drop. No one dared breathe. Only Min Xuefei struggled to wipe his sleeve, coughing and gasping for air.
Ji Hong also held a teacup in his hand. He paused for a moment upon hearing the news.
All the aides were thinking: That little companion was bold, summoning favor publicly. Doing so might disgrace Lord Ji in front of everyone, causing him to lose face, and he’d probably never dote on him again.
Yet after a while, Ji Hong let out a small chuckle.
He put down his teacup and stood, saying, “Got it. I’ll go right now.” He turned and nodded at Min Xuefei. “You carry on. I’ll be back soon.”
Everyone: “…”