In his study, Duke Jin’an was somewhat distracted. He gently stroked the table as he listened to Master Gu and others speaking.
“…It is essential to recall them now.”
“But such a large-scale transfer would be noticed.”
“Even if noticed, there’s no other way. After the Crown Prince’s wedding, Your Highness will be in greater danger.”
“What is there to fear? Could poison be administered with the Princess Consort around?”
“It’s precisely because of her. If she continues acting this way, we’ll remain passive at every turn.”
Duke Jin’an tapped on the table, and everyone in the room fell silent, turning their attention to him.
“She is not someone who acts recklessly,” he said. “If she does something, there must be a reason for it.”
Eunuch Jing was about to say more, but Master Gu had already straightened his expression and replied, “Yes.”
“It will be easy for them to come, and now is a good opportunity,” Duke Jin’an continued. “The Crown Prince’s wedding has put everyone on edge, not just us. With the capital in a complex state of affairs, everyone suspects and guards against each other. Conversely, this is the perfect time to take advantage of the chaos.”
Master Gu and the others smiled.
“Good, let’s proceed with this arrangement,” Master Gu said.
Duke Jin’an stood up.
“There’s one more thing,” Master Gu said, hesitating slightly.
Duke Jin’an looked toward him.
“The Princess Consort and the Duke are also coming this time,” Master Gu said.
It was clear that this “Princess Consort” was not the same as the one mentioned earlier.
“Mother is coming, then,” Duke Jin’an said, a slow smile spreading across his face. “That truly is wonderful.”
On the autumn training ground at high noon, the continuous hum of bowstrings echoed as arrows, like shooting stars, flew one after another toward the straw targets, piercing them until they resembled blooming flowers.
“What remarkable archery,” Duke Jin’an exclaimed in admiration as he walked over.
Ban Qin, who was standing nearby, hesitated and paused her steps.
“Have you finished with your tasks?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked, lowering her bow.
The question itself seemed obvious – only after finishing his tasks would he come – but such inquiries, seemingly unnecessary, were often the kind only those close to one another would ask.
A smile spread across Duke Jin’an’s face. He reached out to take Cheng Jiao-niang’s bow, straightening his posture.
Cheng Jiao-niang handed him an arrow.
Duke Jin’an took a deep breath, drew the bowstring, and released the arrow with a sharp hum. The arrow flew straight into the cluster of arrows already embedded in the straw target.
“You’re not bad either,” Cheng Jiao-niang remarked.
Duke Jin’an chuckled, lowering his bow and slightly gritting his teeth.
“Where does it hurt?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
Duke Jin’an straightened his posture.
“Joking, right? Just drawing a bow and firing an arrow – could I really be that incapable?” he replied.
Before his words faded, Cheng Jiao-niang raised her hand and gently touched his chest.
Duke Jin’an instinctively flinched and hunched over, trying to pull away.
But Cheng Jiao-niang’s hand followed him.
“Let me take a look,” she said.
Her hand settled on his chest again and began to move slowly across it.
“Hey, in broad daylight, what do you think you’re doing?” Duke Jin’an chuckled, reaching out to grasp her wrist. “Stop fidgeting like that.”
By the edge of the training grounds, maids like Ban Qin had already lowered their heads in embarrassment.
“Really, it’s nothing, absolutely nothing,” Duke Jin’an said with a smile, gently shaking her wrist. “It just twinged a bit when I stretched, but it doesn’t hurt now.”
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded and withdrew her hand.
“It’ll be fine in a while,” she said. “Just avoid heavy weapons for now.”
Duke Jin’an nodded, his gaze lingering on her face, glistening with sweat under the sun.
“Come on, let’s head back and freshen up,” he said, hesitating for a moment before keeping hold of her hand instead of letting go. He turned to lead the way.
Watching the young man who pretended nothing was amiss despite his ears flushed crimson, Cheng Jiao-niang smiled softly without a word, allowing him to lead her as she followed along.
Cheng Jiao-niang had already gone inside to freshen up, leaving Duke Jin’an sitting indoors, somewhat dazed and unable to fully regain his composure.
He had actually held her hand like that all the way back.
Well, it wasn’t really a big deal – it was no different from holding Liu Ge’er’s hand. Why make a fuss over it?
But as the thought of Liu Ge’er crossed his mind, Duke Jin’an’s expression darkened.
Cheng Jiao-niang emerged from the washroom. Ban Qin poured her a cup of tea and offered it before quietly withdrawing.
“What’s wrong?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
Duke Jin’an lifted his gaze to her and let out a sigh.
“Liu Ge’er… no, the Crown Prince… hasn’t been faring well in the palace,” he said.
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him.
“Did you really think he would fare well in the palace all along?” she replied, sounding somewhat surprised.
Duke Jin’an froze for a moment, and his expression shifted through a series of changes.
That Liu Ge’er would fare well in the palace?
No, he had never thought so – or rather, he had never truly considered it. What he had always been preoccupied with was…
Status.
…
Qin Hu abruptly reined in his horse and turned his gaze to the side.
In front of the Ministry of War headquarters, a few individuals were just stepping inside.
As if sensing his stare, one of them suddenly turned around.
Eighteen days.
Qin Hu counted silently in his heart.
It had been eighteen days since they last saw each other.
Zhou Fu, it’s been a while.
Zhou Fu’s expression remained indifferent as he averted his eyes and followed the others inside.
Qin Hu turned his head back and urged his horse forward but suddenly halted again.
“Is he… returning to the northwest?” he asked. “General Zhong has already left, so they should be setting off soon as well.”
A nearby attendant acknowledged the question and turned his horse around.
“I’ll go and inquire,” he said.
Qin Hu had only just stepped through the door when his servant returned.
“Commander Zhou is not returning to the northwest. He has asked General Zhong to arrange a transfer to the Capital Garrison instead,” the servant reported.
Qin Hu frowned slightly.
The 200,000-strong Capital Garrison was the primary force responsible for guarding the capital.
“Which division?” he inquired.
“The Cavalry Division,” the attendant replied.
It wasn’t the Imperial Guard. Qin Hu shook his head and smiled faintly. The Imperial Guard was the core defense unit of the capital – there was no way Zhou Fu could be placed there. Neither Chen Shao nor Gao Lingjun would ever allow it.
Though stationed outside the city walls, he would still be defending the capital. Giving up the freedom of the northwest to remain in this restrictive city – was he staying to protect her?
“Thirteenth Young Master, please come in,” a servant said as he entered from outside.
Qin Hu nodded and rose to his feet.
“Did Chancellor Chen send this over?” Qin Hu frowned as his father pushed a memorial toward him.
“Endless demands – do they truly see us as mere tools to be summoned?”
Qin An chuckled lightly.
“And it’s an utterly ridiculous matter,” he remarked.
Qin Hu unfolded the memorial, his expression shifting to surprise.
“He wants to expel Duke Jin’an from the capital?” he said.
“Exactly. It’s truly laughable,” Qin An replied. “How could they possibly let someone like him – an imperial clansman who has openly broken with the Empress Dowager and was once considered the primary candidate for succession – leave the capital? He is meant to be kept under house arrest until the end of his days.”
Qin Hu’s gaze fell on the memorial as he read it slowly.
“What Chancellor Chen is really talking about isn’t the Duke Jin’an,” he said. “It’s…”
Her.
The Princess Consort – that phrase was something he didn’t want to say aloud.
“That’s right. He actually claims that if the Princess Consort remains in the capital, there might be disturbances that could unsettle the people and destabilize the court,” Qin An said with a chuckle. “I never thought Chancellor Chen truly believed in the tale of the immortal’s disciple.”
Qin Hu said nothing, his eyes fixed on the memorial as if lost in thought.
“Then what about Zhou Fu? Won’t all his efforts be in vain?” he murmured.
Qin An didn’t quite catch it.
“Who?” he asked.
Qin Hu snapped back to attention.
In truth, it was always going to be in vain. Even if he stayed in the capital, what could he actually do?
It was nothing more than a way to console himself.
What a fool, such a fool.
“It’s nothing,” he said with a faint smile, then nodded. “Father, this matter can be done.”
…
Qin An frowned.
“Are you suggesting we can use this to help Chen Shao?” he asked, shaking his head. “It’s better not to let Duke Jin’an leave. I still believe he remains a hidden danger.”
“With the Crown Prince’s wedding, princes and imperial clansmen from across the land are gathering in the capital. If Duke Jin’an is expelled from the capital at this very moment, he will utterly lose his status, prestige, and dignity in the eyes of all. A duke so thoroughly disgraced before the world can hardly be considered a hidden threat,” Qin Hu said, closing the memorial as he spoke and offering a slight smile. “Besides, this is also an opportunity.”
An opportunity?
“What kind of opportunity?” Qin An asked.
“An enormous, golden opportunity,” Qin Hu replied, his eyes gleaming.
…
In the deep night, autumn insects whispered softly.
Duke Jin’an turned over once more, his eyes open, gazing into the darkness.
A hand gently patted him on the shoulder.
He turned his head and saw a pair of faintly gleaming eyes beside him.
That hand continued to pat him, rhythmically, on his body.
Suddenly, Duke Jin’an felt an urge to laugh. He reached out and pulled the person beside him into his arms.
The movement was too sudden – even he hadn’t expected to do it so easily. The person in his embrace stiffened slightly, and he froze as well.
The air in the quiet room seemed to thicken and still.
“I…” Duke Jin’an spoke first, breaking the stillness, “did I disturb you?”
“Yes,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
This person’s way of speaking really was…
Duke Jin’an couldn’t help but chuckle, his chest shaking noticeably as he held her close.
“Cheng Fang,” he murmured, burying his face in her hair with a soft, long sigh. “I still made a mistake, didn’t I? After all this time, I’ve failed to protect him properly. What should I do?”
