“My big brother would never be out gallivanting!”
Yan Dong shot an arrow that severed the colorful tassel coin held high by the young man in the black robe. The swift wind was precise and didn’t harm a hair, drawing cheers from the crowd. He tossed the black lacquered bow back into the quiver, losing interest, and angrily said, “Who is spreading such baseless rumors? I’ll tear their mouth apart!”
Before the other party could respond, the young man in the black robe rode over from a hundred steps away, shouting as he tugged at Yan Dong’s horse’s tail, “Did I provoke you? You scared me!”
Yan Dong leaned back to dodge, looking at him worriedly, “For someone who practices martial arts, you’re so easily frightened. Have you been slacking off lately? This won’t do. When Second Brother Hou returns to the capital for his vacation, I’ll have to ask him to keep a close eye on you.”
Hou Yi’s face instantly fell.
The Third Young Master Hou often caused trouble at home with his father, but he was very respectful of his elder brother, who was far away, because he had been spanked a lot as a child. He often wondered about Yan Dong, who grew up under the same oppressive elder brother: We both grew up kneeling side by side, crying under the ruler, and you got spanked as much as I did. Why don’t you shiver in fear when you see the “executioner” and instead smile sweeter than candied fruit? Were you born to be spanked?
Different people, different fates. Yan Dong was smug, he and his big brother were as close as brothers could be, making others envious!
Now, with one of them smiling innocently and the other with sparks in his eyes, they were about to turn into a pair of fighting cocks, pecking at each other for three hundred rounds. The person sitting outside drinking tea couldn’t help but laugh first.
This was great, Yan Dong immediately turned his horse around, and the majestic horse beneath him, with its jade-like eyes, glared at the person along with its master.
Outside the horse field, there was a wooden shed adorned with plum branches and elegant furnishings inside. At this moment, it was filled with people from Yu Zhaoying’s group. Second Young Master Yu was lounging on a pearwood chair, fanning himself with a snow bamboo fan, his willow-leaf eyes seemingly born with a smile, full of charm.
“You’re laughing,” Yan Dong bared his glutinous rice white teeth, “ruining my big brother’s reputation. When he comes back from his mission, he’ll definitely deal with you all!”
Hou Yi protested, “What does this have to do with me? You can take it out on me, but now you want to implicate everyone?”
Yu Zhaoying quickly pleaded his innocence, “Little Lord Yan, please see clearly! When Big Brother Yan was on a mission in Qianzhou, he entered a flower house at night and only came out after about an hour, even changing his clothes—this news has nothing to do with me. I heard it from Xi Wang, who just returned from Qianzhou yesterday.”
Xi Wang was a confidant of the Fifth Prince, and everything he said and did was according to his master’s wishes. The Fifth Prince and Yan Dong were not as close as the three of them, but they had played together since childhood. How could he not know that Yan Dong was a brother-protecting maniac? Moreover, Yan Song held a high position and was deeply trusted by the emperor. The princes always treated him with respect, and when it came to reputation, Xi Wang wouldn’t dare to make things up.
Otherwise, Yu Zhaoying wouldn’t dare to tell Yan Dong.
Yan Dong understood, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy. Could it be that his big brother was really at that age and feeling romantic? He anxiously rubbed the reins, then, as if looking for trouble, questioned, “Xi Wang wasn’t on a mission with my big brother, so how does he know his whereabouts so well?”
“Who wouldn’t be concerned about the movements of the King of Hell? Ever since Big Brother Yan left, secret messages have been flying everywhere,” Yu Zhaoying said. “Besides, Xi Wang is from Qianzhou and returns every year at this time to pay respects at the tombs. It’s not surprising they ran into each other in Qianzhou. Since he dared to leak the news, he must have a clear conscience.”
Yan Dong fell silent, frowning and drooping his ears, feeling dejected.
Seeing this, the little flame in Hou Yi’s heart that wanted to plant Yan Dong like a melon temporarily extinguished, and he turned to comfort him, “There must be some misunderstanding. Big Brother Yan has always been upright and self-disciplined. How could he be so desperate for pleasure that he’d go to a flower house to satisfy his cravings? If he were really that hungry, he might as well eat Changchun Chun, who’s handsome, sensible, and safe, unlike those outside.”
Yan Dong nodded solemnly, rumors couldn’t be trusted. Then he realized what that monkey had just said and kicked him, “My big brother isn’t into men! Besides, he and Chun Chun have a proper master-servant relationship. Do you think everyone is like ‘that person’?”
Hou Yi dodged the kick with a grin and glanced inside the shed.
Yu Zhaoying was curious, “Who’s ‘that person’?”
Yan Dong glanced at the little braid bodyguard behind Yu Zhaoying, made a “shame” gesture, and said coldly, “Who knows.”
The ambiguous master and servant laughed openly, the seated one with a suggestive look, the standing one with a teasing gaze, making Yan Dong inexplicably uncomfortable.
“You guys… hmph!” He decided to cut ties with the Yu family.
With grass and mud on his shoes and dust flying in the horse field, Yan Dong dismounted and stomped off to the side room to change clothes.
The attendant in the corridor lowered the thick red plum curtain for winter and followed him inside to serve.
The room was filled with the scent of plum blossom incense from the Ganan Pavilion, the best incense shop in the capital. They had all kinds of traditional incense, and their unique fragrances were often in high demand and hard to find. You couldn’t go wrong with any of their products. But today, Yan Dong sniffed and said, “It’s too strong.”
The attendant, kneeling in front of Yan Dong to tie his belt, trembled at his words and hurriedly apologized. The incense was fine, so it must have been the person tending to it who didn’t do a good job.
This person was unfamiliar, so Yan Dong casually asked, “Are you new?”
“Replying to the young master, I started working here two months ago. If there’s anything I didn’t do well, please forgive me,” the attendant said, his face pale.
Yan Dong was lenient with his family’s servants and had no intention of being harsh on anyone outside. He just said, “There are many difficult people to serve here.”
For example, Little Marquis He, who last month, just because the tea was a bit cold, beat the tea server until they were covered in blood and chased them out. The attendant understood that Yan Dong was giving him a reminder and quickly forced a grateful smile.
Yan Dong changed into a clean pair of boots and left.
Hou Yi was squatting by Yu Zhaoying’s chair, gnawing on sugarcane. Yan Dong walked over and said, “When I left, my mother said it might snow again tonight. You two remember to go back early. I’m going to the Imperial Hospital to pick up my sister for her break.”
Cheng Manor was a famous horse field in the capital, and they often came here to ride. It was part of the Wenhua Hou’s estate, and the owner was a family servant of the Yu family, privately one of Yu Zhaoying’s people, so it was like half their own territory. That’s why Yan Dong and Hou Yi sometimes didn’t bother bringing attendants. Seeing that Yan Dong was going to the imperial city and might not have anyone to send on errands, Yu Zhaoying offered, “Shall I have someone escort you?”
Yan Dong said no and turned to leave.
The horse had already been led outside the field by the stable hand. Yan Dong approached, patted the horse’s neck, and rubbed his head against it. Carrot, perhaps bored from waiting, didn’t respond by shaking its head as usual. He had things on his mind and didn’t think much of it, mounting the horse and riding off.
Yan Dong wandered down the mountain alone. After the rain and snow, Peach Creek Mountain was shrouded in mist, gray and unclear.
“Seeking flowers and asking willows, leaning on jade and embracing fragrance,” Yan Dong sat cross-legged on the horse’s back, his eyes vacant, muttering to himself, “Impossible, absolutely impossible.”
Yan Song had always been the top among his peers, the “child of other families,” used by countless ministers to scold and beat their own children. He was once forced to become the “King of Hell” among his peers, appearing only to claim lives.
When Yan Shizi was studying, he was oblivious to the outside world, always the top student. While studying at the county school in Yongjing’s Changning County, he even became an assistant teacher and recorder, stepping into officialdom at a young age. After being appointed to the government school, he was entrusted with important responsibilities, now holding positions such as Chief of the Judicial Office, Deputy Minister of War, and Clerk of the Imperial Secretariat, and teaching the Sixth Prince. He rarely had the opportunity to attend various flower-viewing banquets and outings to meet and get to know some outstanding young lady. Moreover, he was more abstinent and restrained than the eunuchs in the palace, always keeping himself clean and pure.
Therefore, when people talked about Yan Shizi, they only said he was perfect in every way, except for one thing: his marriage.
—Indeed, Yan Dong couldn’t agree with that. Why should his big brother have to get married? If everyone loves marriage so much, they should get divorced a few more times themselves. Why keep an eye on someone else’s family?
In short, no matter how good the market was, if the boss didn’t open shop, buyers could drool all they wanted but wouldn’t see the treasure under the red cloth. Since he could remember, Yan Dong had lost count of how many marriage proposals Yan Song had rejected, but one stood out in his memory—
Last spring, when Emperor Cheng An visited the Yan State Duke’s Mansion in disguise, he casually asked: Does the falling flower have feelings for the flowing water?
The “flower” referred to Rong Hua, the only princess of Dayong, a golden branch and jade leaf, very much favored by the emperor. But whether Yan Song was not interested at all or his ambition to reach the top suppressed the desire to become a royal son-in-law, he said no. Fortunately, Emperor Cheng An was just making a casual remark and laughed it off.
At that time, Yan Dong was sitting on the pavilion eaves with the little Sixth Prince, making a small bow, his heart lifting and then relaxing.
The Sixth Prince squeezed Yan Dong’s arm and whispered, “Dong Dong, you’re laughing so arrogantly.”
He did laugh.
Rong Hua was intelligent and dignified, as beautiful as a fairy from the Jade Pool. Such a good girl couldn’t even move Yan Song’s heart. Yan Dong was surprised and puzzled, but more than that, he was relieved.
A younger brother not wanting his elder brother to settle down and start a family was unreasonable. If he said it out loud, people would say he was an inconsiderate bad brother. Yan Dong couldn’t explain his thoughts, but in that moment of question and answer between the emperor and minister, he remembered the look in Yan Song’s eyes when he was seriously injured and bedridden after being ambushed in the eighteenth year of Cheng An. Those eyes, usually as aloof as the bright moon, were shattered, filled entirely with him.
From childhood to adulthood, Yan Dong had never seen Yan Song look at anyone else like that. It was a treasure unique to him, not to be coveted unless it meant tearing out his heart and losing his life.
So at that moment, with emotions surging and hidden currents difficult to quell, only one thought leaped out like a fish, bold and direct.
—Those eyes must always, only be filled with him.
Yan Song never intended to marry and have children, so Yan Dong didn’t consider himself selfish. Besides, Yan Song had the grace of raising him, so the responsibility of taking care of Yan Song in his old age naturally fell to him, not to trouble anyone else.
The horse’s neigh interrupted Yan Dong’s self-consolation. He snapped back to reality, instinctively tightening the reins, stretching his leg to step on the stirrup, and leaning down to avoid being thrown off by the suddenly rearing Carrot. But before he could smack Carrot’s rump, the horse bolted to the side—toward the cliff!
An old horse knows the way, and a family horse protects its master. In a flash, Yan Dong suddenly remembered the unfamiliar attendant and Carrot’s earlier lethargy.
Someone wanted to harm him!
Yan Dong’s heart tightened. Unable to control the horse, he immediately dismounted, his right arm gripping the saddle, running alongside the crazed horse for a few steps. He usually practiced archery, so his arm strength was good. Gritting his teeth, he managed to pull the mad horse back a couple of steps.
The front hooves stopped just at the edge of the cliff, kicking up a spray of dirt and stones. They fell silently into the abyss, but Yan Dong heard them with a cold sweat all over.
“Carrot!” In his panic, he shouted, his rational mind weighing the pros and cons, but his emotions wouldn’t allow him to abandon the horse that had grown up with him.
The frenzied horse turned its head, its eyes, usually as clear as lake water, now blood-red. Yan Dong’s heart chilled, trying to muster more strength, but his body suddenly went limp, his head dizzy.
In just that moment of relaxation, both horse and man tumbled off the cliff.
The body plummeted rapidly, the wind whistling past his ears. Man and horse crashed through tree trunks, landing heavily at the bottom of the cliff.
Yan Dong rolled off Carrot, his internal organs and bones erupting in a cacophony of pain. His throat constricted, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.
Carrot made no sound, and even the wind seemed eerily silent.
Yan Dong was in excruciating pain, his senses muddled, unable to get up. He struggled to retract his right hand, finally seeing a bit of color in the dimness. It was the red jade ring on his finger, crafted by Yan Song himself for his birthday last year, engraved with a pair of carved spring swallows.
Yan Dong bit the ring in a daze, mumbling through tears, “Brother, save me…”
Heavy footsteps approached from behind, and something stepped on his calf, as if testing if he was alive. Yan Dong’s nostrils flared, choking on his breath, unable to move. In the next moment, sharp beast teeth tore into his calf—
“Ah!”
Yan Dong sat up abruptly, gasping for breath.
“Young Master?!” The night watchman, not even bothering to put on shoes, grabbed the night lamp and rushed through the moon gate and the antique shelf, “What’s wrong?”
Yan Dong didn’t speak, and Chang Qingqing, worried, dared to shine the lamp on him—under the dim light, those amber eyes were filled with tears, mixed with cold sweat, his whole face like a soaked, crumpled white cloth, exuding a scent of fear and confusion.
Chang Qingqing’s heart skipped a beat, the hand holding the lamp trembled, casting a line of candlelight on Yan Dong’s pale face, his long, wet lashes quivering as he looked at him in a daze.
“Outside…” His throat seemed clogged with blood, Yan Dong swallowed hard, “Is it snowing?”
“About half an hour ago, it started snowing. This year’s first snow came a bit later than last year, and it’s already late in the winter month.” Chang Qingqing tucked in the quilt, concerned, “Are you cold?”
Yan Dong shook his head, thought for a moment, and asked, “After I fell asleep in the evening, did those two come looking for me?”
“You three really have a connection! Second Young Master Yu sent a message, saying that when the weather gets better in a few days, he’ll invite you to Cheng Manor for horse riding. Third Young Master Hou has a new string of colorful tassel coins, just waiting for you to shoot them from a hundred steps away. But it’s snowing tonight, who knows when it’ll stop… Young Master?”
Yan Dong clutched the brocade quilt, his chest heaving, his knuckles protruding from the force, making Chang Qingqing anxious, “Shall I call Doctor Hu?”
Yan Dong’s gaze passed over Chang Qingqing’s worried face, landing on the window, where the snow and moonlight intertwined, bright as day.
“Qingqing, I want to see the snow,” he said.
“Okay.” Chang Qingqing hung the night lamp on the flower pear lotus lamp stand in front of the bed, wrapped Yan Dong tightly in a fur coat, and went to open a window.
Snow fell, clouds rose, and the flying flowers entered the room.
The slender bamboo outside the corridor was covered in shattered jade, and the two branches of red camellia hanging down beside it were bright and splendid, blooming just right. But the wind was strong on the snowy night, breaking a small one, which fell on the snow bamboo, trembling and unstable, on the verge of falling.
“Big brother,” Yan Dong was anxious and uneasy, “when will you come back?”
The wind and snow swept the red flower into the snow, spinning and disappearing into the snowy night, its whereabouts unknown.
*
The night was cold and desolate, with scattered willow flowers. A cold, white, and clean hand reached out from the lattice window, catching the red camellia that had fallen from the wall.
The wind and snow had dampened the neatly pressed sky-blue wide sleeves. The usually cleanliness-loving adult gently cupped the camellia in his palm, covering it with his fingers, slowly retracting it—turns out the adult was also a flower lover. The official in the crimson robe made a mental note, wondering if he should find a good camellia to present as a gift for the upcoming festival.
“Sir,” someone from the Judicial Office entered to report, “we’ve caught the person.”
A middle-aged man in coarse cotton robes, disheveled and dirty, was brought in. Before anyone could speak, he “thumped” to his knees, kowtowing, “Shizi—”
“The official is on a mission by imperial decree, address him by his title!” the crimson-robed official interrupted.
Chen Zhen shivered, immediately calling out “Lord Yan.”
“Governor Chen, dare to do but not admit,” the crimson-robed official tapped Chen Zhen’s face with the hilt of a knife, making a crisp sound, “we’ve come all the way from Qianzhou to find you, exhausted. You, hiding in a dog hole, not only made it hard for us to find you, but don’t you feel it’s beneath you?”
“Clerk Ren is joking, being reckless and being afraid of death aren’t mutually exclusive, not mutually exclusive.” Chen Zhen kowtowed to Yan Song, his forehead aching but not daring to stop, “But this official has realized his mistake, begging Lord Yan for mercy!”
“Embezzling public funds, amassing private wealth, murdering for money, fleeing in fear of crime—Governor Chen’s achievements are remarkable, I came because of your reputation.” Yan Song flicked a petal, its texture smooth and soft, like a young boy’s cheek. He smiled, “It’s the end of the year, Governor Chen has helped our office a lot.”
“Isn’t that right? Catching you, this big fish, on the way, means our brothers will get more winter rewards this year. It’s just a pity,” Ren Qi clicked his tongue, helpless, “Governor Chen took too big a step, and can be called the ‘Double Fiends of Governors’ with the one in Qianzhou. The common people are hoping for your death, we can’t save you.”
“This official knows his mistake, really knows his mistake!” Chen Zhen pleaded hoarsely, “Who doesn’t know that the lord is deeply favored by the emperor, a close minister of the Son of Heaven! You are in charge of the Ministry of Justice and the Judicial Office, and also work in the Imperial Secretariat. As long as you say a word, His Majesty will surely consider it!”
Yan Song was tall, Chen Zhen knelt low, he had to exert himself to look up at the other, his disheveled, thick face squeezing and fawning, the oil of flattery oozing out.
Ren Qi glanced at Chen Zhen’s dirty knees, they were two zhang away from those dust-free white boots with gold bamboo leaf patterns, couldn’t touch them.
“Lord, please lower yourself to speak for this official, this official is willing to offer all his family wealth, and follow your lead! By the way, I heard the Fifth Prince and the young master are close—”
Yan Song suddenly looked down, Chen Zhen’s throat choked, his fawning smile froze.
How wonderful, daring to involve Little Lord Yan, Ren Qi restrained his expression, lighting a candle for Chen in his heart.
“At this point, still bargaining with me.” Yan Song glanced at Chen Zhen, his words decisive, “Use your most valuable information to exchange for a good death, there’s no better deal.”
Chen Zhen’s throat trembled, perhaps some people weren’t afraid of sharp tongues, but three years ago, when he was still in the Ministry of Justice, he had personally witnessed Yan Song’s bloody methods.
At that time, Yan Song was nineteen, just transferred from the Ministry of Rites to the Ministry of Justice, and in the prison, he entertained the mastermind behind his ambush and serious injury. He took a small boning knife and carved the opponent’s arm into half a skeleton, then threaded and stitched, carefully sewing the peeled skin onto the prisoner’s face, until the prisoner died of excruciating pain and suffocation.
Yan Song was serious, elegant, and dignified, calling it “recently wanting to embroider a sachet, practicing on the spot,” but Chen Zhen remembered the oppressive atmosphere outside the torture chamber, many old prison officials covering their mouths and vomiting.
This was the most talented and extraordinary scion in the capital, and now the most ruthless and sought-after living King of Hell in the court.
When the King of Hell wants you dead at midnight, how could he leave you until dawn?
Chen Zhen collapsed to the ground, his last bit of strength suddenly dissipating completely.
The winter night was cold, the wind howling, making the prefectural hall courtyard eerily quiet. No one spoke inside or outside, the people from the Judicial Office stood silently with their knives, like ghostly predators.
Chen Zhen’s back was cold, struggling to maintain his sanity, “I… I’ll talk.”
There had been rumors swirling in Luzhou recently, and he knew what Yan Song and his group wanted to confirm.
“At the beginning of the month, someone infiltrated Luzhou, intending to capture three villagers from the Feng family in Fenghe Village. Among the Feng family mother and two sons, only the second son, Feng Song, managed to escape. Later, this official caught two of the people from that group, and from their mouths, extracted a secret…” Chen Zhen swallowed, his voice hoarse, “a secret that will shock the court.”
Yan Song played with the flower stamens, his fingertips cold, like snow beads, or tears that had cooled. His fingers curled, increasingly absent-minded.
“Feng Song’s original name was Song Fengmian, his father was the steward of the criminal Song Long, and his mother was the personal maid of Consort Ming in the hidden residence. During the previous emperor’s reign, the Song family was implicated in the deposed crown prince’s affair, their kin executed, the direct line slaughtered.” Chen Zhen paused, “The Song family’s incident coincided with Consort Ming’s childbirth in the hidden residence. Consort Ming fainted from shock, resulting in a stillbirth—this matter turned out to be false. Though the reasons are unclear, Consort Ming’s child is still alive.”
The atmosphere in the room slightly tensed.
The emperor had favored Consort Ming the most in the hidden residence, and after ascending the throne, did not implicate her due to the Song family’s affair, even breaking protocol to confer her as Consort Ming, placing her at the head of the four consorts, granting her residence in Changming Hall, as if she were still alive.
Currently, Dayong had no crown prince, the emperor’s attitude was unclear, and the second, third, and fifth princes were outwardly harmonious but inwardly at odds, already exhausting the ministers. Now, with another one, though his whereabouts were unknown, what kind of person could deceive the emperor’s eyes and ears back then?
Song Fengmian’s father was a direct line of Song Long, doomed to die, but his mother, having married into the hidden residence with Consort Ming, became a household aunt, no longer considered part of the Song family. As long as the emperor at the time was willing, she could naturally escape, taking her two infants and this secret to “disappear.”
Now, suddenly someone sought out the mother and sons, the jar containing the secret cracked a corner, whether the mice coming to bite it open or to cover up Consort Ming’s son’s identity, this child could not be ignored.
Ren Qi rubbed the hilt of his knife, “Whose people were they?”
Chen Zhen looked up at Yan Song, the latter’s expression indifferent, young yet already able to conceal his emotions, showing his deep scheming. He lowered his head, his heart cold, answering, “The Second Prince.”
This person was a student of the Fifth Prince, there was no need to lie about this matter, but Ren Qi was puzzled, “Where did the Second Prince hear the news?”
Chen Zhen didn’t know.
Ren Qi looked at Yan Song, the latter silent, so he gestured to the people from the Judicial Office, take him away.
Chen Zhen smiled bitterly, bowed his head, and was taken out.
Blood splattered on the corridor, washed away silently, flowing down the steps, staining the snow on the bluestone slabs.
Ren Qi glanced at the door, instructing to clean up the corpse and handle the collected account books and evidence, recording them for submission. He turned to the window, about to speak, but heard Yan Song say, “Is Jie Di close with the Fifth Prince?”
Ren Qi was stunned, not understanding if there was any deeper meaning behind this question, but he dared not not answer, carefully saying, “The Fifth Prince and the young master grew up together, naturally not estranged, but that’s nothing special, after all, the young master is pure and cheerful, even the emperor dotes on him.”
Yan Song said nothing.
Ren Qi found it strange, but couldn’t figure it out, so he let it go, “By the way, should we send someone to search for Song Fengmian?”
Yan Song asked, “If found, should we protect or kill? Or bring him before the emperor, presenting a difficult problem?”
Who knew if the emperor wanted the Fourth Prince to “come back to life”?
Ren Qi’s heart skipped a beat, quickly saying, “This official spoke out of turn! Rest assured, my ears and mouth will follow your wishes.”
“Not knowing what shouldn’t be known, not speaking what shouldn’t be spoken, very good,” Yan Song paused, “but with such ‘loyalty,’ how will Clerk Ren explain to the emperor when you return?”
This sentence was calm, but to Ren Qi, it was like suddenly turning around and facing a ghost while walking at night, too sudden, too dangerous. He was terrified, not having time to react, already kneeling.
“Lord, please—”
Before he could finish, familiar footsteps sounded in the corridor, hurried and urgent, almost losing composure. Yan Song sensed something amiss, suddenly turning to look at the door.
“Shizi,” Chang Chun Chun rushed in, “a message from Fengchun Courtyard, the young master is in trouble!”