Light rippled through Qin Duan’s eyes as his long eyelashes lowered slightly. He said:
“You are already a Prince of the realm; you must observe proper decorum in all things. If the servants were to see us behaving this way and word got out, it would blemish your reputation.”
Unbothered, Xie Zhengming was just about to open his mouth in rebuttal when a sudden thought struck him: in his past life, Qin Duan had often offered him similar admonitions. Yet back then, bloated with his own achievements and blindingly arrogant, he had acted in an overbearing and flamboyant manner, utterly oblivious to the fact that he was treading upon the ultimate taboos of the Son of Heaven.
During his later years garrisoning the northern frontier, how deeply he had yearned to hear once more those gentle, unhurried words of counsel from the man beside him! Regrettably, though he had dispatched countless letters toward the capital, not a single reply from the city had ever brought news of Qin Duan.
Upon returning to the capital, he had finally comprehended the truth: all of it had been orchestrated by the Emperor’s will. Only the Emperor possessed the capability to conceal Qin Duan so impeccably that even stationed out at the borders, he could not gather the slightest whisper of information regarding him.
Xie Zhengming remained unaware of how Qin Duan had ascended to the position of Chancellor. Perhaps, driven by sheer disillusionment and despair toward him, Qin Duan had harbored deep, lingering grievance and taken the initiative to present himself before the Emperor, recounting the military contributions Xie Zhengming had rendered on the battlefield years prior. Yet even so, Xie Zhengming felt that those honors were rightfully Qin Duan’s to begin with. It was he who had been excessively selfish, attempting to shackle Qin Duan solely within the confines of his private inner courtyard, while entirely forgetting that Qin Duan, just like him, was a man of iron-willed integrity bearing his own grand ambitions and aspirations.
“A’duan, most of these estate servants were bestowed upon us by the Emperor and the Empress Dowager. However, if you find any of them unsatisfactory, we will find a way to dispatch them off to the country manors, and you can personally select new ones who suit your liking. As for the Emperor’s side, I know how to handle it myself you need not worry.”
Hearing this, Qin Duan fixed Xie Zhengming with another steady, searching gaze. For some reason, he constantly felt as though Xie Zhengming today was different from the man of the past. Never before had this person been so meticulous or attentive to the affairs of the inner household.
Qin Duan nodded and replied:
“Mn, we must deliberate upon this over the long term. After all, it involves the imperial surname; we cannot act too hastily.”
Yielding gracefully, Xie Zhengming nodded in agreement:
“Very well, we shall do whatever A’duan says.”
A fleeting sense of unreality washed over Qin Duan. Once upon a time, they had depended upon each other for survival; despite their impoverished circumstances, whenever family matters arose—ranging from major decisions like leasing land and sowing seeds down to trivial daily necessities like firewood, rice, oil, and salt—Xie Zhengming would invariably utter the phrase, “We’ll do whatever A’duan says.”
Yet ever since Xie Zhengming joined the rebel forces, achieved consecutive military triumphs, and rose to prominence within the army, he had gradually stopped clinging to him the way he used to. Qin Duan understood that Xie Zhengming was a soaring falcon; he was never meant to circle endlessly within the narrow confines of a rural village, for he had found the vast, boundless firmament where he could spread his wings and fly.
Watching Xie Zhengming climb ever higher, Qin Duan knew that the simple thatched cottage, the solitary flicker of candlelight, and the late-night heart-to-heart conversations he desired most in his heart had already transformed into an unreachable, distant dream. In his dreams, he had returned countless times to their former home in the village, stroking every blade of grass and tree while weeping uncontrollably. Yet every time he awoke in tears, Xie Zhengming’s figure was nowhere to be found he had already risen and departed for the military camp.
The melancholic void within Qin Duan’s heart had no one to confide in, nor anyone who could truly understand. He knew that even if someone were to fathom his innermost thoughts, they would likely only sneer with sour disdain and call him ungrateful.
Indeed, following Xie Zhengming to live in this magnificent, opulent palace, surrounded by exquisite silks and delicacies from land and sea, what more could he possibly find to be unsatisfied with? Heh…
Qin Duan knew that if it were anyone else, they would likely be celebrating in secret; having a sworn pact-brother as Prince Ding, what need was there to fret over future wealth and glory? Even if Xie Zhengming were to take a wife in the future, the Prince would undoubtedly bestow a generous wedding gift.
Other sworn pact-brothers might indeed live thus, though there were also those who remained inseparable even after each married separate families. As for himself, his situation could be described as extreme: he had long since resolved never to marry for the rest of his life, choosing to cling shamelessly to Xie Zhengming’s side for as long as he was permitted not to leave. He simply wished to spend a few more years by Xie Zhengming’s twilight; if the lord proved unwilling to cast him aside, growing old together right here would be his greatest extravagant hope in this lifetime.
Lying side by side in bed after such a long absence, Xie Zhengming gazed with greedy adoration at Qin Duan’s handsome, refined features. He then buried his face in the crook of Qin Duan’s neck, deeply inhaling the comforting, pleasant scent of bamboo leaves that clung to him.
“A’duan, I have missed you so, I have missed you so much…”
A blush crept over Qin Duan once more, the gentle tickle at his neck rippling across his skin and bones down to all four limbs. As his breathing grew shallow and rapid, he whispered softly:
“A-zheng…”
That single call nearly made Xie Zhengming lose control entirely. Yet, the profound guilt and yearning he harbored for Qin Duan at this moment restrained him from indulging any further romantic impulses. Besides, he understood Qin Duan well: the man possessed an extraordinarily thin skin and a strict adherence to propriety he would never wish to cause Qin Duan distress.
“Don’t be afraid. I just want to hold you for a moment.”
I have simply missed you far too much…
After chatting for a while, Xie Zhengming and Qin Duan had basically clarified the situation: it was currently the first year of Jian’an, precisely the year he and the Emperor Li崇 had breached the capital of the former dynasty.
The new Emperor Li Chong was originally the heir of Marquis Wenyuan, a veteran official of the old regime, while his eldest sister, Li Mingyu, had been a noble consort to the decadent, deposed Emperor Jing. Emperor Jing was昏庸 (muddle-headed) and tyrannical, doting upon the wicked imperial concubine Zheng. In her bid for favor, Lady Zheng framed Li Mingyu for attempting to poison and assassinate the Emperor, whereupon Emperor Jing actually issued an order to strangle the noble consort and exterminate every living member of the Marquis Wenyuan’s household.
Marquis Wenyuan was executed, while his wife, eldest son Li Chong, and youngest son Li Chen happened to be away from the city visiting a temple to fulfill a vow when the officials raided their residence. Hearing the horrifying news in time, they fled deep into the mountains, where loyal household retainers sacrificed their lives to provide cover, enabling them to escape by the skin of their teeth.
Amidst this catastrophe, Li Chong concealed his identity and went into hiding among the common folk, joining a local insurgent faction. He painstakingly cultivated his influence over many years until he secured real military power and his own dedicated army. When the time finally ripened, he ignited this uprising.
Through years of calculated strategy and the successive annexation of other breakaway factions, Li Chong’s army evolved into the most formidable force among all the insurgent armies. Consequently, as they marched northward and conquered the capital along the way, numerous other rebel forces bowed their heads and submitted to Li Chong as vassals.
Following a grueling series of bloody battles, Li Chong finally ascended the dragon throne, altered the reign title to Daxing, and established the era name Jian’an. As for Xie Zhengming, he was ennobled as Prince Ding in recognition of his role as the paramount contributor who conquered the realm for the Jian’an Emperor.
Reflecting upon this, Xie Zhengming realized that at this juncture, the Jian’an Emperor’s position on the dragon throne had just begun to stabilize. However, across the four seas, several minor insurgent factions still refused allegiance; moreover, as state policies needed formulation and public sentiment required soothing, the nation was at a critical juncture heavily reliant on capable individuals. For this reason, the Jian’an Emperor still relied upon and valued him immensely at this time. However, once the following year rolled around and the imperial court grew fully established, the Emperor would inevitably issue that decree of imperial marriage.
Xie Zhengming’s pupils instantly turned dark and chilling; he was resolved never to allow that venomous woman to harm his A’duan ever again. In this lifetime, his sole desire was to properly protect Qin Duan, bestow upon him the status of primary spouse, and grow old with him side by side.
Unaware of the turbulent undercurrents swirling through Xie Zhengming’s mind at that moment, Qin Duan observed how Xie Zhengming’s gaze shifted from melancholic to deeply affectionate, and finally hardened into a ruthless expression. Somewhat anxiously, he tugged gently at Xie Zhengming’s hand:
“A-zheng, you went out drinking with Lord Xu and the others today did you enjoy yourself?”
Xie Zhengming blinked, snapping back to memories of his past life. Old Xu and the others were brothers who had bled and slogged alongside him through the thick of the insurgent armies; they frequently gathered for small drinking parties in those days. Yet later on, these very brothers who had traversed seas of corpses and oceans of blood were picked off one by one by the Jian’an Emperor some dead, some exiled, every single one of them meeting a tragic end.