“My master also bears an irreconcilable hatred toward Wei Yan.”

Zhao Xun was naturally blessed with a pair of smiling eyes, giving him the impression of being amiable and easy to talk to. Yet there was also a certain detachment in those eyes. “Approaching Houyé was not an attempt to borrow upon Houyé’s influence. My master simply believes that once Houyé learns the truth behind the Battle of Jinzhou sixteen years ago, Houyé too would wish to kill Wei Yan with your own hands. As for deliberately concealing my identity before this, that was not intentional either. My master merely wished to wait until the time was right before revealing his identity to Houyé.”

Xie Zheng’s eyes were cold and keen. He already had a faint suspicion in his heart, yet he still asked, “Who is your master?”

Zhao Xun said, “Someone who was fortunate enough to survive the fire at the Eastern Palace sixteen years ago.”

东宫 (Dōnggōng) / Eastern Palace — The Crown Prince’s residence and household, and by extension the Crown Prince and his faction.

The corners of Xie Zheng’s lips lifted in a cold, cutting smile. “The Imperial Grandson? If the Imperial Grandson were still alive, shouldn’t he have gone to seek an alliance with Grand Tutor Li’s faction? Why wait until today to come looking for a defeated dog from Pingyang like me?”

皇孙 (huáng sūn) / Imperial Grandson — The Crown Prince’s son, i.e. the Emperor’s grandson.

平阳败犬 (píngyáng bàiquǎn) — Literally, “a defeated dog in the plains”. This is a playful variation on the idiom 虎落平阳被犬欺 (hǔ luò píng yáng bèi quǎn qī), literally, “when a tiger falls onto the plains, even dogs can bully it”. The original idiom describes someone powerful or formidable losing their position or advantage and finding themselves in a vulnerable situation. 平阳败犬 borrows that imagery and turns it into a self-deprecating way of describing someone who has fallen on hard times or is currently in a rather sorry state.

Zhao Xun looked troubled. “You have also investigated the clues surrounding the Battle of Jinzhou sixteen years ago. You should know that the old dog Wei Yan has always been ruthless in rooting out all traces, leaving no loose ends behind. Back then, when the Crown Prince died and the Eastern Palace went up in flames, even the late Emperor ordered the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review to jointly investigate, yet they failed to uncover any result. What hope is there, then, of uncovering the truth now, with everything having changed beyond recognition?

“Grand Tutor Li may be the leader of the court’s upright officials, but he would not stake everything on opposing the Wei faction for my master’s sake. Houyé is different. General Xie died on the battlefield, and Beijue hung his body from the city tower for three days-Wei Yan also played a part in this tragedy. Does Houyé not wish to avenge that grudge?”

Xie Zheng’s five fingers slowly curled into a fist. The murderous aura clinging to him seemed to seep out from between his very bones, making the spacious private room suddenly feel stifling, as though it had become difficult to breathe. “Tell me. What exactly happened sixteen years ago?”

Zhao Xun said, “My master has been lying low for many years, yet was unable to uncover the slightest clue concerning the Battle of Jinzhou. Back then, when the Eastern Palace caught fire, the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review conducted a thorough investigation and attributed it to the palace attendant on night duty falling asleep and accidentally knocking over a candlestick. But according to a loyal servant who has remained by my master’s side, an assassin broke into the Eastern Palace that night.

“The Crown Princess ordered the loyal servant to flee with the Young Highness, while she herself remained in the bedchamber with His Highness’s childhood companion. The corpse the Court of Judicial Review found in the bedchamber belonged to that childhood companion.”

玩伴 (wán bàn) means a child of similar age who is brought to the palace or kept around to accompany the royal child, playing and growing up alongside them.

“With His Highness Crown Prince Chengde dead, and the late Emperor having passed away, Wei Yan alone held the Son of Heaven hostage and commanded the feudal lords for more than a decade. It is difficult not to suspect that the Battle of Jinzhou back then was Wei Yan’s handiwork. General Xie’s death on the battlefield alongside them amounted to nothing more than clearing Wei Yan of suspicion.”

Xie Zheng’s dark eyes lifted halfway, a hint of impatience already weighing upon his brows. “What Ben Hou wants is evidence, not your speculation.”

A smile touched Zhao Xun’s lips. “When Prince Changxin rebelled in Chongzhou, one of the strategists at his side was my master’s man. He proposed the banner of ‘Purging the Emperor’s Side and Eliminating the Wei Faction’ to Prince Changxin. To build momentum among the common people, he also spread rumors that the tragedy at Jinzhou back then had been entirely orchestrated by Wei Yan. What happened afterward, One presume Houyé already knows. Houyé merely reopened the case files of the Jinzhou incident, and Wei Yan immediately set his sights on killing Houyé.”

清君侧，除魏党 (Qīngjūncè, chú wèi dǎng) — Literally, “Purify the Emperor’s side; eliminate the Wei faction”. This is a classic political slogan: the rebel claims that corrupt or treacherous officials have surrounded and misled the sovereign, and that removing them is therefore an act of loyalty to the Emperor.

Xie Zheng narrowed his long eyes, his gaze razor-sharp. He gave a cold laugh. “It seems Ben Hou was also one piece of your plan.”

Zhao Xun’s expression stiffened slightly. “Houyé gives us too much credit. My master merely wished to win Houyé over as an ally.”

Seeing Xie Zheng’s displeasure, he quickly continued, “That old dog Wei Yan was forced into action by the blast, and in doing so, he did indeed reveal some of his tracks. His death warriors crossed one capital and seventeen prefectures, killing more than a dozen people. My master has already identified some of them. They were all former household retainers who once worked for Wei Yan and later withdrew from public life.”

家将 (jiājiàng) — Household retainers, usually referring to martial retainers employed by a powerful or wealthy family. Unlike regular soldiers or government guards, 家将 served a particular household and could be responsible for guarding the family, accompanying their master, or fighting on the family's behalf. Basically, the household's own private group of armed men.

Xie Zheng asked, “Then I assume you’ve also uncovered the identity of that butcher surnamed Fan and his family?”

A look of guilt crossed Zhao Xun’s face. “That butcher surnamed Fan has kept his identity so tightly concealed that there isn’t a single opening to exploit. My master sent people to investigate him in detail several times. Whether in the Fan family’s ancestral home or here in this town, their inquiries turned up records of a man by that name exists. There are even official records of the escort journeys he supposedly made more than a decade ago. It looks as though someone within the government deliberately helped conceal his identity from the past.”

An image of Fan Changyu came to Xie Zheng’s mind—the way she had looked when telling him about her parents’ past. For a moment, he lost himself in thought.

A flake of snow landed on the back of his hand. The chill of the melting snow brought his thoughts sharply back into focus.

He leaned back slightly, one arm draped over the armrest of the huanghuali wood grandmaster armchair. His posture was as languid as could be, yet it exerted an almost unbearable sense of pressure.

“Expecting Ben Hou to believe, based on nothing more than your word, that the person behind you is the Imperial Grandson who supposedly perished in the fire sixteen years ago? That’s rather laughable.”

Zhao Xun’s expression changed. He was about to speak when Xie Zheng continued, “Ben Hou will investigate the truth behind the Battle of Jinzhou sixteen years ago myself. Ben Hou doesn’t care whether your master is the true Imperial Grandson or a false one. If you don’t want this alliance to end here, you’d best have him come meet Ben Hou in person.”

Zhao Xun’s expression was grim, but all he could do was cup his hands and say, “Zhao Mou will convey Houyé’s words.”

When Xie Zheng rose, his eyelids drooped slightly as he said lazily, “And have him think about what terms he intends to offer in exchange for these 200,000 shi of grain.”

Zhao Xun, whose body was already inclined in a slight bow, bent even lower. “Understoood.”

As Xie Zheng left, he placed the jade ring that had originally been presented as a token of their alliance on the huanghuali wood side table.

He had spent so long trading pleasantries and false courtesies with this man surnamed Zhao for no other reason than to determine exactly which faction stood behind him. The answer—the Imperial Grandson—had genuinely caught Xie Zheng by surprise.

He was not worried that he would lose track of the other side’s movements. When he had sent Zhao Xun to purchase the grain, he had already instructed his own people to secretly keep watch over the Zhao family’s intelligence outposts. By tracing the threads back from those places, even if the master behind Zhao Xun refused to show himself, he would soon be able to smoke him out.

He did indeed have a grudge against Wei Yan. But before everything was settled, someone had already dared to scheme against him simply to turn him into one of their greatest assets. They had clearly thought him far too accommodating.

Xie Zheng left the bookshop and, seeing that Fan Changyu and Changning had still not come looking for him, furrowed his brows slightly and headed in the direction of Head Constable Wang’s residence.

He had not gone far when he ran into Fan Changyu and Changning. Changning had her mouth stuffed with candy, her cheeks puffed out as she bounced along. Fan Changyu held one of her little chubby hands, a bright and spirited smile on her face as well.

Seeing Xie Zheng, the smile on her face did not diminish in the slightest. She waved at him from a distance, and when she drew near, she said, “We’re not going back to town tonight.”

The sight of her smile eased some of the gloom and displeasure in Xie Zheng’s heart. He asked, “Why?”

“Yu Zhanggui also has a Yixiang Restaurant in the county seat. The son of a local gentry is getting married, and they’ve booked the wedding banquet here. They’ll need a large amount of braised meat prepared tomorrow, and Yu Zhanggui is worried they won’t have enough time, so she wants me to go to the restaurant first thing tomorrow morning to help prepare it. There’s a lantern festival in the city this year, too, so we can go look at the lanterns tonight.”

“Then should we find an inn to stay at?” Xie Zheng asked.

Fan Changyu shook her head. “Yu Zhanggui has already found us a place to stay. The kitchen helpers and young attendants at Yixiang Restaurant have their food and drink covered by the restaurant, and even their lodging is provided. Yu Zhanggui rents a whole lane of local residences nearby and lets them stay there for free.”

Xie Zheng raised an eyebrow. “That shopkeeper is quite an unusual person.”

Fan Changyu smiled and said, “Of course. Yu Zhanggui is really kind, and all the staff at the restaurant respect her. Chef Li from the kitchen told me that before, some other restaurant managers in the county seat were jealous of Yixiang House’s business and tried to poach the restaurant manager whom Yu Zhanggui had personally promoted. They offered him twice what Yixiang Restaurant was paying, but he still didn’t leave.”

Xie Zheng merely said, “Sometimes, personal loyalty does indeed carry more weight than money.”

情分 (qíng fèn) — A difficult term to translate directly. It refers to the bond, loyalty, personal affection, or sense of obligation that develops between people through shared relationships and favors.

Fan Changyu enthusiastically told him all sorts of things about Yu Qianqian. His response remained lukewarm, so she eventually stopped talking. Noticing that he wasn’t carrying anything in his hands, she asked, “Weren’t you going to buy paper and ink? How come you came back empty-handed?”

She considered one possibility, her expression turning complicated. “Don’t tell me you spent all your money buying things for Ningniang? If you were short on cash, you should’ve told me…”

Xie Zheng gave a faint scoff. Most of the gloom that had clung to him after leaving the bookshop had already faded. “That’s not it.”

Under Fan Changyu’s suspicious gaze, he said, “Things at the county bookshop are too expensive. I’ll buy them after we get back to town.”

Fan Changyu asked, “Then what were you doing at the bookshop for so long?”

Xie Zheng replied, “I read some books and lost track of time.”

Fan Changyu was curious. “You spent that long reading without buying anything. Didn’t the bookshop owner give you a hard time?”

Xie Zheng’s gaze swept toward her. “Who told you that?”

Fan Changyu almost said that Song Yan had been like that in the past. He would go to the bookshop just to read without buying anything, and the shopkeeper would give him a sour look. As a result, he would come home with a long face for days afterward. Even later, whenever the subject came up, he would sneer that the bookshop owner reeked of copper.

满身铜臭 (mǎn shēn tóngchòu) — Literally, “reek of the smell of copper”. 铜臭 (copper stink) is an old derogatory expression for an excessive obsession with money.

But remembering how venomous Yan Zheng’s tongue could be whenever Song Yan came up, she swallowed the words that had reached her lips and muttered, “I just guessed.”

Xie Zheng gave her several sidelong looks. The skin at the back of Fan Changyu’s neck instinctively tightened, and she feared he was about to come out with some cutting remark that would strike straight at her dignity.

Fortunately, he didn’t mock her at all during the rest of the journey.

It was already getting late. Since they had decided to stay in the county seat for the night, Fan Changyu still decided to take Xie Zheng and Changning out to see the lanterns that evening. They didn’t return to the lodgings Yu Qianqian had arranged for them, but went to a restaurant first for a late-night meal.

The families who could afford to eat out on the first day of the New Year were generally those with some money to spare.

At the neighboring table, a young married couple seemed to have finished their meal. When the waiter came over to settle the bill, he smiled at the man and said, “Gongzi, that’ll be one tael and two qian.”

The man looked scholarly and slight, with a timid, almost deferential expression. He seemed distinctly ill at ease.

The woman sitting beside him said, “He doesn’t have any money on him. I’ll pay.”

Her voice was rather loud, drawing the attention of quite a few diners in the restaurant.

Someone muttered, “A grown man needs a woman to pay for his meal when they’re out? What a damn disgrace!”

“Tsk, tsk. Isn’t he just a little white face?”

小白脸 — Literally “little white face,” a derogatory term for a handsome, delicate-looking man who is perceived as relying on a woman for money or status.

“I know that man. He’s the An family’s live-in son-in-law. Just a good-for-nothing living off his wife. Who knows what that Lady An sees in such a spineless weakling!”

The man’s face burned scarlet with humiliation. He wished he could find a crack in the ground and crawl into it.

After the woman paid, he practically fled the restaurant with his head lowered.

Xie Zheng had finished eating some time ago. He watched the whole farce with an impassive expression.

Across from him, Fan Changyu polished off her third bowl of rice. By the time she was done, the dishes on the table had been scraped so clean there was hardly anything left. Only then did she contentedly put down her bowl and chopsticks and call to the waiter, “Waiter, the bill.”

Fan Changyu had a hearty appetite, and it was New Year’s Eve, after all, so they had ordered a generous spread. Still, they hadn’t ordered any wine, so the meal hadn’t cost an outrageous amount.

After adding everything up, the waiter said, “Eight qian.”

Fan Changyu was about to reach for her purse when Xie Zheng, sitting across from her like a jade carving, said, “I’ll pay.”

Both Xie Zheng and Fan Changyu possessed exceptional looks, and in this little restaurant they had already attracted more than their fair share of attention. Now that he had spoken, even more people began stealing glances in their direction.

Seeing that he was going to pay, Fan Changyu remembered what had just happened with the other couple and stopped reaching for her purse.

Xie Zheng slipped one hand into his robes and searched around. His expression changed slightly.

Fan Changyu immediately gave him a questioning look.

After a moment, Xie Zheng withdrew his hand and looked at her, “You pay.”