Yin Ruche was momentarily startled, lowering his head to acknowledge the order while his eyes darted sideways toward Meng Zhui, casting a pleading look for help.
Meng Zhui returned a look that clearly said, “Just do as you are told.”
Still failing to understand why his master had suddenly changed his phrasing, Yin Ruche simply assumed his master’s mood had soured yet again.
After pausing a moment to calculate precisely which timeframe his master meant, he continued once he had figured it out. “The situation at the Marquis of Mingliu’s estate is exactly as Your Lordship suspected. Upon hearing the news, the Marquis chased away several bold onlookers, which truly saved a lot of trouble.”
“His thinking is indeed thorough,” Xi Lingjian said calmly.
“Didn’t Your Lordship say before that you hoped the court would have more people like this? Someone with a prominent background who is also this resourceful…” Yin Ruche asked with curiosity.
Meng Zhui shot him a sharp glare, displeased. “Harboring ulterior motives, how could anyone dare employ such a person?”
In disagreement, Yin Ruche retorted, “Where on earth does he look like he has ulterior motives? He is nothing like the former heir…”
His speech was gentle and polite, showing no anger toward their master; one could even call him amiable. Nowadays, people with such a demeanor were rarely seen.
“His heart is set on Ji Liandu. Is that not harboring ulterior motives?” Xi Lingjian said flatly.
Twice in a row, Fu Liao had gone against his intentions, and both times it was because of Ji Liandu, as if he viewed him merely as a bridge to show concern for Ji Liandu.
Not even bothering to conceal his identity, the man was still so fixated on someone completely unrelated to him.
Failing to grasp his master’s meaning and not daring to ask further, Yin Ruche closed his mouth.
Xi Lingjian unfolded a memorial, and right away a memorial urging him to return to border defense caught his eye.
“Over the past few days, eight or nine out of ten memorials carry this same sentiment,” Meng Zhui rasped in a low voice. “Will Your Lordship mention this during the morning court session?”
“There is no need,” Xi Lingjian said calmly, taking a sip of tea. “The emperor caused these injuries in the first place, and didn’t he grant me a seat? Since my wounds have not healed, it is naturally inconvenient to handle such matters.”
Meng Zhui bowed, indicating he understood.
“What is Ji Liandu doing?” Xi Lingjian glanced toward the distant mountain peak.
Yin Ruche and Meng Zhui exchanged glances.
“Young Master Ji has been unusually obedient since returning. He is reading books in his room and has made no demands whatsoever.”
Xi Lingjian paused, the edge of his brow twitching.
“No complaints about Qinglin making too much of a ruckus?”
Yin Ruche recalled carefully before affirming, “No, ah!”
“We haven’t heard Qinglin’s movements these past few hours,” Meng Zhui said, frowning as he threw a glance at the guard beside him.
A chill ran down Yin Ruche’s spine. “Oh no.”
By day, leaving and entering the city gates of Jingzhou did not require an official pass, but at night, one was mandatory.
For someone of Fu Liao’s noble background, merely stating his name should have cleared the way, but Zu Zishan could not easily explain herself. If recognized as Madam Lü, malicious gossip would likely spread before dawn.
Fu Liao found himself in a difficult spot. He had intended for Zu Zishan to leave the city one after the other, but unexpectedly, she smoothly led him along a detour, sneaking out through a gap in a corner of the wall.
Fu Liao stared at this gap.
“What is it?” Zu Zishan asked.
“Are these kinds of gaps common in Jingzhou?” he asked.
Not understanding precisely what he meant, Zu Zishan explained in detail, “These gaps were left over from the chaos of war a few years ago, back when Jingzhou could hardly be called Jingzhou. Later, the Prince of Jing quelled the rebel factions, and both inside and outside the city needed repairs. It just so happened to coincide with the sovereign’s birthday, so the matter was shelved in favor of celebrating the longevity festival.”
“Shelved until now?” Fu Liao always felt the surroundings were damp and heavy, uncomfortably tilting his head back to gaze at the sky.
“People talked about it a lot at first, but the officials were always stalling. After all, the expenses would still be huge…” Zu Zishan looked up at the sky with him, looking thoughtful.
“At the end of last year, there was a heavy rain. Lü Chen had disturbed the earth at the foot of the mountain, causing Mount Pingguan to experience a landslide. The rolling mud and rocks crushed the farmland and houses of dozens of families. It was thanks to these gaps that nearby residents could quickly climb up to find refuge; otherwise, who knows how many people would have perished in vain.”
“Yet if they are not repaired, letting unfamiliar people slip in becomes quite easy,” Fu Liao noted.
“Guards were originally assigned to watch the place, but later they claimed too many people were living off government stipends while doing nothing, so they chased everyone away and never patched these up either,” Zu Zishan shook her head in disappointment. “A bunch of military men suddenly became officials, understanding nothing yet insisting on venting their grievances by squeezing out the scholars. If the Northern Chu had not been mostly pacified, the government would probably collapse immediately.”
Fu Liao remained silent.
Today, Northern Chu valued martial prowess far more than literature precisely because it suffered a backlash from valuing literature over martial prowess too much before the split. The division of Northern Chu had also stemmed from civil officials being too arrogant and aggressive, causing immense dissatisfaction among both military officers and the common people, leading to a massive uprising at a single call.
Once the first province and county revolted, a second and third followed, until Northern Chu was fractured into dozens of minor states. In the end, it took the late emperor recalling Xi Lingjian from the distant frontiers to lead a court army and reclaim the lost territories piece by piece.
Having fought back the realm, the military men naturally used their achievements to attack the scholars who had lorded over them for so long.
“However…” Fu Liao had a question. “Has Northern Chu not been completely pacified yet?”
“Not entirely. Shangmu State remains,” Zu Zishan glanced at him. “It’s near the territory the Prince of Jing previously guarded.”
Fu Liao instantly understood the implication behind her words.
“It’s not that I am prejudiced, but the Prince of Jing has always been reluctant to campaign there,” Zu Zishan said. “Rumors say the Emperor of Shangmu is an old friend of his, and some even claim the actual ruler of that country is the Prince of Jing himself.”
Fu Liao said nothing.
It was spoken as if the actual ruler of Northern Chu right now wasn’t Xi Lingjian.
His mood suddenly grew somewhat heavy.
If he had known better, he shouldn’t have skimped through the book so carelessly; he really should have read it more thoroughly.
In truth, he knew very little about Xi Lingjian, and forcing himself to meddle in the man’s private affairs was indeed unwise.
Yet neither did he wish to witness the tragic ending portrayed in the original book.
He had to find a way to learn more about him.
Fu Liao changed the subject. “It looks like heavy rain is coming tonight as well.”
“We don’t have to worry about that now. Since that landslide, the nearby villagers have all relocated,” Zu Zishan said.
“But Pingguan Road will be blocked by falling rocks,” Fu Liao pointed out. “Besides, the base of the mountain was excavated previously. It didn’t give way last time, but this time it should wash out.”
Zu Zishan looked somewhat surprised. “The Heir Apparent is actually plotting this?”
“With both time and terrain on our side, anything that can ease an urgent crisis must be used,” Fu Liao clenched his fists.
“The Heir Apparent is placing his hopes on two strangers, and on top of that, on the heavens,” Zu Zishan frowned. “Isn’t that absurd and ridiculous?”
“Yet both of you have given me hope,” Fu Liao merely smiled. “This noble heir is simply willful, so naturally, I want to push my luck.”
The relaxed tone in his words made Zu Zishan think they were out for a leisurely spring outing.
Watching him count the items on his arm, Zu Zishan asked, “Will doing this really work?”
“It is a desperate gamble, and if scrutinized closely, it is full of loopholes,” Fu Liao sighed. “Still, we can also consider this as helping the Prince of Jing. The Prince of Jing’s methods can always be trusted.”
Zu Zishan wanted to say something, but stopped, ultimately uttering, “The heavens will favor you.”
“Why say that?”
“If I were the heavens, I would.” Zu Zishan blinked, looking ahead.
There was a hint of deep emotion in her words, though Fu Liao did not quite catch the full meaning.
As they spoke, the two had reached the foot of the mountain. The steep mountain path made Fu Liao take unstable steps, and a hazy feeling of weightlessness washed over him.
Zu Zishan suddenly fell silent, signaling Fu Liao to listen to the surrounding sounds.
Their footsteps halted, leaving absolute stillness all around.
A rustling sound seemed to be nothing more than the wind blowing through the trees.
Yet a sound arose from the ground, the distinct sound of footsteps treading on fallen leaves.
Two sharp green lights suddenly appeared before them.
It was a gray wolf the size of half a person.
With a slight tremor in her voice, Zu Zishan asked, “Why is there a wolf here?”
Mount Pingguan had sparse vegetation and nothing that could serve as its food source. Besides, whatever lived on this mountain could usually be seen clearly in broad daylight.
Fu Liao’s complexion turned even paler. Seeing the gray wolf step closer by degrees, he suddenly relaxed.
“It has an owner,” Fu Liao spotted the collar around its neck. “It shouldn’t attack people at random.”
With a serious expression, Zu Zishan said, “It certainly doesn’t look like it won’t attack.”
True enough, the gray wolf’s back was arched, and a low rumbling growl continuously issued from its throat as if it were raring to go.
Though terrifying to look at, Fu Liao did not sense any aura of danger coming from it.
“Madam Zu, go ahead to the hut and drop off the items,” Fu Liao handed the documents from his arm to her while taking the kerosene lamp from her hand. “Step back a few paces first and see how it reacts.”
“No,” Zu Zishan refused. “What if something happens?”
“Then I’ll just die a few hours earlier,” Fu Liao smiled. “We are doing this not just for me, but in the hope that Lü Chen’s character will be condemned by the world, for your sake, Lan Niang’s, and Yu’er’s.”
Zu Zishan knitted her delicate brows, still unwilling to leave. Taking the initiative, Fu Liao lifted the kerosene lamp and tentatively waved it in front of the gray wolf.
The gray wolf shivered slightly and extended its front paws.
Seeing this, Zu Zishan’s expression changed. “Throw the kerosene lamp aside!”
Fu Liao motioned for her to look instead.
“It’s injured.” He moved the lamp to the side, pointing at the gray wolf’s front leg.
There was an obvious wound on its front leg, dripping with blood as flesh and gray fur were matted together. Seeing the sudden source of light, it emitted another growl, but made no further movement.
“Madam Zu can rest easy now,” Fu Liao persuaded. “Go on ahead, Madam Zu. Lan Niang is still waiting; it wouldn’t do to let her worry.”
Frowning, Zu Zishan knew Fu Liao would not easily compromise, so she did as he said, leaving the man and the wolf standing in a standoff.
“Come here.”
Fu Liao cautiously walked forward, and the gray wolf did not back away.
Only when Fu Liao slowly squatted down did the gray wolf twitch its ears a few times.
Fu Liao tore a piece of fabric from the hem of his robe, while his other hand carefully pointed a safe distance away at its injured paw, watching for its reaction.
Understanding what the fragile skeleton before it intended to do, the gray wolf flattened its hind legs, stretched out its body, and lay flat on the ground, as if telling Fu Liao it would not attack.
Seeing the expression of the gray wolf before him gradually relax, Fu Liao could not resist petting its head.
The gray wolf let out a couple of whimpering sounds and swept its tail.
“Your master must be very worried about you,” Fu Liao noted its smooth and shiny fur. “If you understand me, hurry back.”
If passing travelers saw it come morning, it would stir up quite a commotion. Besides, he lacked medical expertise; a simple bandage was only meant to stem the bleeding.
Feeling the sticky wound on its leg quickly dry up, the gray wolf let out a happy growl.
Startled for a moment, Fu Liao watched as the gray wolf scratched the ground with its uninjured leg, presumably to express its gratitude.
“Sigh,” Fu Liao breathed a sigh of relief. “If you’re fine, hurry along now.”
With that, he turned to find Zu Zishan.
The gray wolf clamped its jaws onto Fu Liao’s sleeve. When Fu Liao turned back around, it let out its grip, spun in a few circles, and stared right at him.
Fu Liao waved goodbye to it.
The gray wolf stared at him without moving.
Blinking, Fu Liao took a step back.
The gray wolf took a step forward.
When Fu Liao stepped forward, the gray wolf stepped back, letting out two soft whimpers.
Guessing its intent, Fu Liao asked, “Do you want to follow me?”
The gray wolf spun around again, took two steps forward, and stared at Fu Liao expectantly.
Though he felt this was inappropriate, Fu Liao had no intention of reasoning with a wolf, so he beckoned with his hand, and the gray wolf immediately followed.
Even with its lame leg, the gray wolf’s speed surpassed Fu Liao by half a stride, causing Zu Zishan’s first sight upon turning around to be the wolf, prompting her to hurl the inkstone in her hand right at it.
“This inkstone is probably a rare treasure, too,” Fu Liao caught it just in time, examining the patterns carved on it.
Only then did Zu Zishan let out a breath of relief.
“It followed you here?” she asked.
“Can’t chase it away,” Fu Liao summarized concisely. “Looks like Madam Zu has finished setting everything up.”
He gazed at the room filled with gold, silver, and valuables. Even in the night, the glow of gold seemed visible, resembling pairs of greedy eyes coveting items that did not belong to them.
Zu Zishan had placed Lü Chen’s correspondence with various officials and various ledger books in the most prominent spots, while covering the blank walls with crookedly written curses from the victims’ perspectives.
Fu Liao noticed that the dried bloodstains on the wall had been deliberately masked with ink.
“Written with the left hand. This wall is the most mystical part; will anyone actually believe it?” Zu Zishan vented in the fresh air outside the house.
“A makeshift cabin that suddenly appears due to a landslide is already bizarre, and for so many items to be inexplicably placed inside, once word spreads, even the fake can become real,” Fu Liao said.
He paused before continuing, “People who are devoid of shame and distort right from wrong will inevitably be reviled by others. By then, no one will bother investigating whether it is true or false.”
Zu Zishan remained silent for a long time. After a moment, she said, “Regardless, destroying this place isn’t a bad outcome.”
Before Fu Liao’s lips could curve into a smile, Zu Zishan looked back toward the wolf. “Is it really okay to have saved this wolf? Even if it bears no hostility toward us.”
Fu Liao understood the concern in his heart as well.
With such a massive size, it could easily maul anyone to death, and afterwards, all responsibility could be shifted onto a wild wolf that appeared out of nowhere.
Moreover, anyone wealthy enough to keep one and hide it so well must hold a certain status in Jingzhou.
“If its master truly wanted to sever ties, he wouldn’t have let it wear a collar,” he remarked anyway. “Perhaps it’s just the whim of some marquis.”
Zu Zishan let out a long sigh. “You are as stubborn as some scholars.”
Fu Liao simply smiled again.
“It is past midnight now,” Zu Zishan noted.
“Yes,” Fu Liao replied. “Is Madam Zu feeling unwell? Would you like to rest a while longer?”
The mountain path was secluded enough, and the two of them had been walking on foot for a long time. Fu Liao’s legs were already growing heavy, with only the brief interlude of bandaging the gray wolf serving as any real rest.
Looking into the distance, Zu Zishan’s expression suddenly shifted.
Noticing something was wrong, Fu Liao followed her gaze.
The horizon seemed slightly brighter than when they had arrived.
Zu Zishan looked up at the sky once more.
“A lot of the dark clouds have dispersed,” she said with a heavy expression. “The duel between the Heir Apparent and the Prince of Jing is at the hour of Si, right?”
“If that’s the case, this rain might not make it in time.”