Xiao Biehe was eventually discovered by patrolling officers and local citizens, who notified the General’s Manor to come and collect him.
On the way back, he regained consciousness, hearing the fragmented whispers of the crowds. Overnight, the beggars near the city gates had been slaughtered. When the manor’s servants arrived, the people only saw the Young General lying on the ground, stained with blood. They reflexively assumed he was the killer. Now, when they spoke his name, the usual reverence was gone, replaced by terror.
None of them stopped to remember that for years, Xiao Biehe had often helped those in need, or that every time he returned to the capital, he bought massive quantities of buns and new clothes for the starving homeless. Given his character, why would he kill without reason? And even if he had, what had those beggars done to provoke him?
By the time the carriage reached the General’s Manor, Xiao Changfeng was already waiting in the main hall, his face twisted with extreme rage.
Half an hour earlier, Xiao Qingqu who had also been out all night had returned to the manor. Xiao Jinshi, looking equally grim, had intercepted him at the gate, pointing an unsheathed sword at his throat.
“You did it, didn’t you?” Jinshi asked, his eyes cold. “Why would you do this to the General’s Manor?”
Qingqu was unsteady on his feet. Though dressed in white, he looked disheveled, his robes torn in several places. He looked up and met Jinshi’s gaze with a gentle, innocent expression. He smiled. “Don’t you hate Xiao Biehe? The General’s Manor has military merit; the Emperor won’t truly punish the family. But he can make Xiao Biehe a public disgrace, ensuring the Emperor and the people no longer trust or rely on him. Isn’t that a good thing?”
Jinshi’s fury froze. He fell into cold calculation, and Qingqu slipped past him into the manor.
Now, they all stood in the main hall except for Madam Jiang watching Xiao Biehe enter.
The moment he appeared, Xiao Changfeng slammed his hand on the table. “You rebellious son! Kneel!”
Biehe’s face was deathly pale. He looked into his father’s furious eyes and spoke softly through parched lips. “Father, I am injured.”
Xiao Changfeng didn’t listen. He raised a long whip and lashed it heavily across Biehe’s body.
Biehe’s spine remained as straight as a pine tree; he didn’t flinch, acting as if the whip hadn’t even touched him. However, a shocking crimson streak appeared on his white robes where the whip had landed, the blood spreading rapidly across his thin frame.
“Kneel!” Xiao Changfeng roared again.
Xiao Biehe didn’t move. A second lash came down, forming a bloody “X” across his back.
“Why did you kill those people in the city?!” Xiao Changfeng bellowed. “You have completely disgraced the General’s Manor!”
Xiao Biehe stood firm, his voice cold and clear. “I did not kill them.”
“Stubborn to the end!” Just as the third strike was about to fall, the faint scent of flowers drifted into the hall. Jiang Xu’er walked in, beautiful and refined.
She walked past Xiao Biehe, giving him only a single glance before quickly averting her eyes and picking up her pace.
Seeing her, Xiao Changfeng’s rage vanished instantly. He hurried to her side, overwhelmed by the rare sight of her seeking him out. He placed his rough hands gently on her shoulders and guided her to the seat of honor. “Madam, why are you here? Please, sit!”
As she sat, her almond eyes landed on Biehe again, and her brow furrowed in distaste. Xiao Changfeng immediately understood. He glared at Biehe. “Can’t you see you’ve upset your mother again? Get out! Get out of my sight!”
Xiao Biehe stood there, listening to the man who was supposed to be his father. His face, like cold jade, showed neither grief nor joy. He looked like a piece of wood without emotion. But as he turned to leave, a faint, fleeting smile touched his lips.
Xiao Changfeng was too focused on his wife to notice, but Xiao Jinshi saw it. His hands tightened into fists until his palms bled. Xiao Qingqu saw it too, his mind racing behind his mask of cultured smiles.
The Great Young General… even he gets beaten like a dog at home.
Xiao Qingqu wasn’t just sleeping with Mu Yunfei; he was his accomplice. Even the “stolen” letter revealed at the banquet had been a coordinated move known by the Prince beforehand.
The rumors two months ago about Biehe planning a rebellion? Spread by Qingqu on the Prince’s orders. The fake imperial decree that summoned Biehe back to the capital? Given to Qingqu by the Prince, who then passed it to Biehe’s apprentice, Mo Sang, to deliver.
The Emperor feared Biehe and wanted to eliminate the Xiao family. Mu Yunfei claimed to love Biehe—crying out his name in bed with Qingqu, but he never hesitated to hurt the man.
Six months ago, when the General of the State returned to the capital to recover from a serious waist injury, military affairs were handed over to Biehe. Mo Sang, whom Biehe had saved and taken as an apprentice two years ago, had volunteered to return to the manor to care for the General. Xiao Changfeng praised and trusted Mo Sang, using him as a primary messenger between the capital and the border.
Xiao Biehe likely had no idea that Mo Sang had long since turned and joined the Prince’s camp.
Xiao Qingqu maintained his gentle facade, looking worried. “Father, Mother, Big Brother just returned and hasn’t even changed his clothes. Please don’t make him kneel. I am willing to go to the ancestral hall and apologize to our ancestors on his behalf.”
The anxiety in Jiang Xu’er’s eyes faded when she looked at Qingqu. She trusted this foster son more than her own firstborn.
She had been forced to conceive and give birth to Biehe; every time she looked at him, she was reminded of her ruined life and the “Zhao Lang” she had truly loved. She blamed the child for the fact that she wasn’t living a happy life with her sweetheart.
She had first seen Xiao Qingqu during her darkest days of depression. One day, a ball had hit her window. She looked out and saw a clean, polite, and smiling child.
“Whose child, are you?” she had asked.
“I am the son of Nurse Liu,” the boy had said innocently. “My name is Goudan (Dog Egg). Madam, you are so beautiful. Why are you sad?”
From that day on, she began to recover. She ignored her own son, not caring if he was alive or fed, but she waited by the window every day for “Goudan.” She eventually adopted him, gave him the surname Xiao, and named him Qingqu.
She never knew or refused to believe that his innocence was a lie. At two years old, he was already manipulating her emotions. At four, he poisoned his own mother because she praised Xiao Biehe too much and stood in the way of his path to becoming a “young master.”
“Since Qingqu is pleading for you, I’ll let it go this time,” Xiao Changfeng said to Biehe’s retreating back. “Thank him! If only you were as sensible as he is and made your mother happy!”
Xiao Biehe’s footsteps paused for a fraction of a second, then he continued out.
He returned to his courtyard. It was desolate. There were no servants; autumn leaves and winter snow covered the ground. No one ever cleaned it for him. He picked up a broom and began to sweep the snow himself.
Footsteps stopped behind him. He didn’t turn.
“Master…” a male voice called out.
Mo Sang stood there, looking nervous. When Biehe didn’t respond, he stepped forward to take the broom. “Master, let me sweep for you.”
Biehe handed it over and stepped onto a cleared patch of ground.
“Master,” Mo Sang said, his heart a mess of guilt and panic. “Should I also clear the snow from the roof?”
“No need,” Biehe replied.
Though Biehe had spoken, he didn’t say anything else. Mo Sang tried to look calm, but he was terrified. He hadn’t wanted to betray Biehe. Two years ago, Biehe had saved him from bandits after his family was killed. Mo Sang had been moved by his beauty and his status as the legendary Young General. He had begged to stay as a disciple.
But the Prince had made him a promise: Once Xiao Biehe is dead, you will take his place.