In the dead of night, the Shen Family’s door was pounded with thunderous force. Zhang Xun burst in urgently, “Master, we’ve caught a rat in the Black Rock Pile.”
Frost coated the frozen earthen walls of the cellar.
The tied-up guard trembled like a leaf in the wind, the dim oil lamp illuminating a centipede-like scar under his left eye—it was Zhao Laosi, the very man who had withheld Li Dazhuang’s rations during the day.
A branding iron glowed crimson nearby.
“Sizzle.”
The stench of scorched flesh mixed with agonized screams echoed off the cellar ceiling. Zhao Laosi’s face was a mess of snot and tears: “It was Consort Yun! She… she said to turn Ningguta into a snowy grave for the Xie Family Army…”
He spat a mouthful of bloody foam onto the frozen ground, “I truly meant no harm! When Li Laizi died, my courage shattered… I just wanted to see what treasure this black lump was… so I could send word to the Imperial Concubine come spring and trade it for my wretched life…”
As the branding iron moved half an inch closer, the seasoned soldier broke into hysterical sobs: “My seventy-year-old mother and three-year-old child… they’re all trapped under the Imperial Concubine’s thumb…”
At the mention of Consort Yun, Xie Yunjing’s eyes turned colder than the cellar’s ice. “Chop him up and feed him to the wolves.”
“Wait!” Shen Taotao tightened the wolf-fur coat she’d recently acquired from someone, the oil lamp igniting twin flames in her eyes. “Zhao Laosi,” she suddenly drew a knife and severed his bonds, “now you have two paths: the first is to feed you to the wolves in the back mountains. Once your family is useless to the Imperial Concubine… guess how many days they’ll last?”
The cellar fell into a deathly silence, broken only by chattering teeth.
“Second rule,” she nudged a fallen lump of coal with her toe, “bring your mother and child to Ningguta for hot soup and a heated brick bed.” Before spring…” The icy blade pointed at Zhao Laosi’s heart, “root out all the rats in the guard camp! Otherwise—”
A slight flick of the blade, and a patch of charred flesh fell away: “When messenger pigeons fill the sky come spring… if other rats report Ningguta’s secrets to the Imperial Concubine first, your Zhao family won’t even get a straw mat for burial.”
Zhao Laosi shuddered in pain, sweat pouring down his face, but suddenly recalled the warm glow from the Shen Family’s wooden windows—the ghostly aroma of hot porridge from the heated brick bed seemed to drift into his nostrils.
He abruptly prostrated himself, kowtowing like pounding garlic: “I… I’ll be a mad dog under your command, sir.” Greasy sweat mixed with frozen soil clung to his forehead, resembling a crown of filth.
Xie Yunjing, however, only stared at Shen Taotao: “Why keep a dog? Wouldn’t killing him be simpler?”
“Simpler?” Shen Taotao leaned close, whispering in his ear, “The guard camp has seven hundred troops—do we understand all their tricks? Should we wait for spies to pop up today and infiltrators tomorrow, or slaughter them all and replace them with new starving ghosts?”
The oil lamp’s flame lit her cunning fox-like smile. “Let the rats in the nest tear each other apart… that’s true simplicity!”
Coal crumbled into black dust beneath her boot.
Xie Yunjing’s body tensed, fresh blood seeping through the wound on his shoulder as turbulent emotions surged in his eyes: “Shen Taotao—” His hand shot out, gripping her wrist tightly as he pulled her away. “If you have something to say, say it properly… why get so close!”
Nearby, Zhang Xun nearly stumbled into the coal pile. Master, are you allergic to romance?
Zhao Laosi remained crouched, trembling and kowtowing.
The oil lamp’s shadow danced wildly on the cellar wall. Shen Taotao’s wrist ached from his grip, shivers of ice and fire crawling up her skin as she nearly cursed aloud.
But when she looked up, she saw Xie Yunjing.
“Why is your face so red?”
Zhang Xun darted over, grabbing Zhao Laosi by the collar: “Hear that? From now on, you’re the captain of the guards!”
He kicked the still-dazed Zhao Laosi. “Go find the spy, now.” Then he led the others out of the cellar.
The oil lamp sputtered out.
In the pitch black, Xie Yunjing’s scorching breath fanned across Shen Taotao’s brow. His grip on her wrist loosened, his thumb gently stroking and rubbing her wrist with rare tenderness.
But Shen Taotao only felt the rough calluses on his hand scrape her wrist, making it ache even more.
Just as Xie Yunjing leaned in closer, Shen Taotao suddenly sniffed the air.
“Do you smell that?”
“Hmm?”
“It stinks.”
Xie Yunjing: “…”
Outside, eavesdropping Zhang Xun thought, Well, they really are a perfect match.