“Naturally, I am afraid of you.” Yun Zhensong felt that since he was in this position, he should possess the corresponding mettle and courage. “Ask yourself: if you took in a stranger with an unknown background who was unwilling to explain themselves, and that person not only made a grand display of reorganizing your household, but also grew closely connected with the newly arrived imperial guards in the manor if you were in my shoes, what would you think?”
Without a shred of mercy, Yun Zhensong swept his gaze toward Cheng Sui and Lu Yi. “Am I right, you two? Stop hiding. The pair of you have such distinct features that it’s hard not to notice.”
Both men widened their eyes in unison. Cheng Sui touched the saber scar about a hand-span wide near his left eyebrow, while Lu Yi rubbed his shiny, bald pate. After a long silence, Qi Jianshuang shot them both a look of bitter disappointment.
Yun Zhensong withdrew his gaze and said to Qi Jianshuang, “Follow me.”
Yusheng swallowed hard, steadied Yun Zhensong’s arm, and spoke hesitantly, “Master, we came out in such a rush, and Zhou Si hasn’t returned from fetching your medicine yet. He should be hurrying back this way now. Should we… wait a bit for Zhou Si?”
Yusheng had never spoken out of bounds like this before. Firstly, he was genuinely worried for his master, and secondly, his master accorded him so much respect that he sometimes felt dazed.
Yun Zhensong leaned in close to his ear and explained, “Since he wanted to conceal his identity from the start, he wouldn’t let just anyone find out who he is. No matter what, between him and me, a private conversation is inevitable in the end.”
Nervous and jittery, Yusheng trailed closely behind his master as they entered the military tent. Yun Zhensong possessed an exceedingly delicate constitution; a bit too much cold or heat would immediately distress his lungs. The moment he sat down, he promptly unfastened his cloak, which Yusheng caught.
Even so, Yun Zhensong began to cough. Yusheng hurriedly helped soothe his master’s chest, and just as he reached to pour a cup of tea, he looked up to see a hand holding a teacup extended right before his master.
Lifting his gaze, he saw it was Qi Jianshuang.
Qi Jianshuang furrowed his brow slightly. “Are you falling ill again?”
“…” Yun Zhensong took the cup, shook his head at Yusheng, tilted his head back, and drank it dry.
“If this happens—”
Yun Zhensong reassured Yusheng, “It’s fine.”
Then, with a wry, self-deprecating chuckle at Qi Jianshuang: “Getting sick after recovering would be called ‘again.’ My illness has never actually left—that’s called ‘still.'”
Before his voice even trailed off, Qi Jianshuang’s expression had already darkened.
“Alright, alright,” Yun Zhensong waved a hand up and down. “Everyone, sit down. Yusheng, don’t just stand there, come sit by me… Hey, I told you to sit, so sit.”
Yusheng hesitated for a moment before obediently sitting down, his back stiff and rigid. He had never experienced such physical intimacy with his master before.
Gently stroking Yusheng’s back, Yun Zhensong murmured softly, “Relax.”
Yun Zhensong could not bear to see his people suffer even the slightest grievance. By what logic should these big, rough men of unknown origin be sitting down while his cute, sensible little attendant had to stand and wait on them? Where was the sense in that?
Qi Jianshuang watched quietly.
Gathering his thoughts, Yun Zhensong turned his gaze back and asked solemnly, “What are your names? I’m not feeling well right now, my head hurts like hell, and I don’t want to hear a single shred of falsehood.”
Cheng Sui put on a facade of calm and cleared his throat. “This humble one is called Cheng Sui.”
Huh?
Yun Zhensong’s serious expression visibly froze the moment he heard that name.
Cheng Sui? He’s that “good person” from the codex?
“What is it?” Qi Jianshuang noticed and asked.
“Nothing.” Yun Zhensong turned his question to the other man. “And you?”
Please don’t tell me his name is Lu Yi…
“This humble one is called Lu Yi.”
Yun Zhensong slumped slightly in his seat, sloshing water out of the teacup in his hand. As he frantically wiped away the moisture staining his clothes, he cried out internally: Oh no, could I have wronged a good person after all?!
The tea was boiling hot, scalding the back of Yun Zhensong’s hand until it was bright red, though he barely had time to care.
Before Yusheng could reach out, Qi Jianshuang yanked the man up from his seat with a trace of disgust. “How can you be so clumsy and all thumbs?”
Unable to save face, Yun Zhensong brazenly fabricated an excuse: “You’ve known I haven’t been in good health since day one! If it weren’t for you lot, would I have expended this much mental energy? And you have the nerve to call me clumsy—let go!”
Qi Jianshuang froze on the spot.
Had he not been overly hasty and meddled in too many affairs, Yun Zhensong wouldn’t have worked himself ragged all morning without even finding time to eat, only to rush frantically back and forth across two desolate outposts. Early spring brought harsh winds and blazing sun; moreover, had it not been for last night’s ordeal of settling refugees, coordinating townsfolk, and pacifying bandits, his illness should have been mostly cleared up by today.
When it all came down to it, Qi Jianshuang had exploited Yun Zhensong from head to toe, yet he genuinely did not want anything to happen to him.
Yun Zhensong tried to pull away, but failed to break free, staring at him wide-eyed. “Hey, are you getting addicted to grabbing people?”
Who could have anticipated that before Qi Jianshuang could snap out of it and release his grip, the curtain of the military tent was suddenly thrust open with tremendous force. Zhou Si rushed in frantically, his eyes immediately locking onto Qi Jianshuang tightly gripping his master’s wrist. Assuming Qi Jianshuang was once again taking advantage of their master’s good nature to bully him, Zhou Si swung a fist straight at Qi Jianshuang without a word.
Both Cheng Sui and Lu Yi figured that with the general’s reflexes, he could easily dodge the blow, so neither bothered to intervene. But the next second, Qi Jianshuang’s head jerked to the side as Zhou Si landed a solid, resounding punch right across his face.
Blood seeped from the corner of Qi Jianshuang’s mouth, and he immediately released Yun Zhensong’s wrist. The two guards stared in shock and were just about to step in when Qi Jianshuang shouted at them: “Let him hit!”
The words Yun Zhensong was about to utter were forcefully swallowed back down. He wanted to hear what Mister Hongke had to say for himself.
Why was he suddenly displaying such intense guilt? It left him completely bewildered.
Qi Jianshuang said, “Zhou Si, allow me to say a few words to your master, and it won’t be too late for you to beat me again.”
Cheng Sui and Lu Yi’s eyes were filled with utter disbelief.
Qi Jianshuang had started martial arts training at age three, entered the military at fifteen, and single-handedly rescued the late emperor at seventeen. In the decades of warfare that followed, the number of battles he had fought was too high to count on both hands, leaving him with terrifying and gruesome scars.
Precisely because of this, Qi Jianshuang had long been forged by blood and tears into a man of unyielding steel—he didn’t do appeasement, nor would he ever lower his posture.
To hear such words now, falling upon the ears of the two men who had fought alongside him through thick and thin, was no different from the emperor telling them, “Wait until I explain things clearly to your general, and then you two can beat me to vent your anger.”
Qi Jianshuang raised a hand and casually wiped away the few drops of blood welling from his split lip. “The few of us are deserters. The northern war is too brutal, and dragging it out any longer means nothing but death. I still have attachments; I didn’t want it to end like that, so I fled. Being caught would mean execution for my entire clan.”
“That’s why I was unwilling to tell you. Firstly, I didn’t trust you at first, fearing you would turn us in. Secondly, I figured that since you were kept in the dark, you might escape being implicated.”
Qi Jianshuang hadn’t spoken a single false word.
Withholding information could hardly be called lying.
“Then why are you telling me now?”
Qi Jianshuang instinctively twitched the corner of his mouth, tearing the wound and causing fresh blood to well up again. Completely devoid of pain, he said with a blank expression, “Compared to me not trusting you, the consequences of you not trusting me are far more severe. With all due respect, once the nineteen northern tribes launch an offensive, given our current defensive forces, the tens of thousands of lives in this county will face certain death. I must make you trust me enough to hand over the county’s military power; otherwise, once the Northern Xiongnu break through, it will be too late even for tears.”
Qi Jianshuang delivered this with a blend of solemn gravity and helplessness.
Yuanqian County was isolated and cut off from news; Yun Zhensong was utterly ignorant of the geopolitical situation outside the county. However, he had heard the system outline the general plot of the script: the Great Northern General’s demise, the fall of the northern frontier, and the southern invasion of the nineteen tribes were indeed key plot points.
Moreover, Cheng Sui and the others truly were good people, and up to this point, Qi Jianshuang had shown him the utmost care and consideration. Besides, Yun Zhensong desperately needed someone skilled in troop command and military leadership—after all, he still had that ultimate task of “defending the city gates for half a month” hanging over his head.
Before Yun Zhensong could finish pondering, Qi Jianshuang gave an expansive wave of his hand toward the fuming Zhou Si. “Come on, let’s have at it. Beat me until your master is satisfied today. Let’s get it straight beforehand, though: if your master calls to stop and you keep swinging, don’t blame me for breaking your arm.”
Zhou Si lunged forward with full force.
“Zhou Si!” Yun Zhensong cried out hastily. “Stop!”
Zhou Si shot him a bewildered look. This scumbag had exploited their master like this, yet still had the audacity to boast about protecting the entire county in these turbulent times if that wasn’t treacherous plotting, what was?!
Unable to explain it clearly, Yun Zhensong could only shoot an expressive glance at Yusheng, signaling him to pull the man back, while striving to keep the situation calm and level-headed. “Everyone, calm down. Hongke, you deceived me, and I misjudged you; we’re essentially even now. As for what authority you’ll hold in the future, I still need to give it careful consideration, but don’t worry, I won’t leave you idling on the shelf.”
“Zhou Si, I know you’ve always been on your guard against Hongke, but there has to be a limit. Without my orders from now on, you are strictly forbidden from lashing out blindly.”
With that, Yun Zhensong took half a step forward, only for a wave of dizziness from low blood circulation to plunge his vision into darkness. He closed his eyes, massaged his throbbing temples, and sighed. “Let’s call it a day. My head… I really can’t take much more of this.”
For several days running, Yun Zhensong buried himself in official duties. Had he not overheard the estate’s cook chatting idly and mentioning Qi Jianshuang, he might have almost forgotten about him entirely.
“My word, that man living in the small courtyard is really fine-looking.”
“Ain’t that the truth? Word is he’s some kind of middle commander with quite a high rank. Why on earth is he living in the same courtyard as us servants?”
“Sigh, high rank or low rank, it’s all just a word from the magistrate. As for why the magistrate didn’t arrange a proper residence for him, us servants can’t possibly guess the master’s mind.”
Yusheng glanced sideways, stealing a peek at his master. He saw him halt his hurried footsteps upon hearing this; only after the cook shifted topics did Yun Zhensong slowly resume walking. After taking a few paces, he asked Yusheng, “Where is… Hongke staying? Is the living environment very poor?”
He had originally told Zhou Si to arrange his quarters, and hadn’t spared a single thought for him since.
“Reporting to Master, it’s the side courtyard. It’s actually not bad, except it doesn’t face the sun, so it’s a bit damp.”
In an instant, a wave of guilt and self-reproach washed over Yun Zhensong. He had looked out for everyone else, yet left Hongke out in the cold, letting him live with injuries in a dim, damp side courtyard where the bed was probably too short for him, forcing him to sleep with his legs curled up.
Clenching his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms, he knew his own regret was completely useless to Hongke—he had to make up for it with actual deeds.
Late that evening, a fine drizzle began to patter down. The courtyard bricks were uneven and pocked, collecting numerous little puddles while wisps of rain slanted past the eaves.
Warm, yellowish candlelight suddenly filtered through the lattice paper of the side room, cutting the rainy curtain with golden boundaries.
Yun Zhensong peered out through the window. The dusk, resembling half-melted amber, blended with the damp rainy weather to bathe Yun Zhensong and the entire courtyard in a tender glow.
In Yun Zhensong’s hazy memories, his late parents had loved bringing little Zhensong out to admire the rain—all kinds of rain. Sometimes they would “coax” little Zhensong into running out into the rain to splash in puddles; other times they would cup their hands over his ears beforehand so he could feel the faint rumble of distant thunder.
He loved rainy days, yet feared them as well.
He turned his head and instructed Yusheng, “We’re having hot pot tonight. Tell the kitchen to prepare it.”
Yusheng, who was in the midst of stuffing a warming stone into Yun Zhensong’s bedding, smiled upon hearing this. “Wonderful! Just yesterday, Big Brother Zhou hunted a wild deer up in the mountains…”
“Wait,” Yun Zhensong interrupted him with a startled look. “A wild deer? No, no, no wild deer. Let’s use mushrooms as the broth base, and flavor it with a bit of salt and spices.”
Yusheng complied, “As Master wishes. That way it’ll be just right to help warm Master up.”
After over half a month of convalescence, Yun Zhensong’s illness was finally more or less under control, though his hands and feet remained icy cold come nighttime, rendering sleep impossible without something to warm them.
Yusheng set aside his work and trotted off to the kitchen to instruct the cook.
Standing guard at the doorway, Zhou Si caught sight of the hurried Yusheng and frowned, asking, “Where are you off to?”
“Master wants to have hot pot, I’m going to tell the kitchen to get it ready,” Yusheng said. “Oh right, Master doesn’t like venison, so don’t hunt any more of it.”
Zhou Si nodded. “I understand.”
“Zhou Si?” Yun Zhensong called out from inside. “Come in for a moment.”
Hearing Zhou Si push the door open and step inside, Yun Zhensong turned back to tell him, “Go call Hongke over. I’m having him join me for dinner.”
Zhou Si paused briefly, though he didn’t press further. Saluting with a clasp of his fist, he took his leave with his sword in hand.
Yun Zhensong stared at a few petals of cherry blossoms floating atop a deepening pool of rainwater, their pink hues spreading softly along the ripples.
Before long, footsteps echoed from the corner gate. Yun Zhensong lifted his gaze and, through the window and across the thickening rain curtain, met Qi Jianshuang’s deep, steady stare.
Qi Jianshuang had just finished drilling the troops. Learning that Yun Zhensong had invited him to dine together, he hadn’t even taken the time to change his clothes, hurrying over still drenched in sweat.
Yun Zhensong’s gaze landed on the beads of sweat resting on the bridge of Qi Jianshuang’s nose. Qi Jianshuang arched one brow, silently and patiently waiting for him to speak.
As per Yun Zhensong’s request, a rain shelter had already been rigged up in the courtyard, and Yusheng bustled back and forth until everything was finally set.
The pot bubbled merrily, sending up steam as rich aromas drifted into every corner of the small courtyard.
Looking at Qi Jianshuang, Yun Zhensong felt a mixture of guilt and profound warmth.
He smiled brightly at Qi Jianshuang, the corners of his eyes curving, making even the mole by the side of his nose look utterly radiant.
Qi Jianshuang hesitated for a brief moment, then returned a clumsy, unfamiliar smile.