The cell door creaked open, and a gust of cold wind swept in, lifting loose sheets of paper off the ground and slapping them against Yan Chengxue’s face and prison robes.
Yan Chengxue tossed the half-burnt page in his hand into the brazier, then looked up at the doorway. A flicker of surprise appeared on his pale, bluish face.
“Censor Su?”
Su Yan stepped inside, surveying the cell and the prisoner.
When Yan and Huo were first escorted to the capital and imprisoned here, he had written to Shen Qi, advising that the two might still be of use and should not be mistreated.
Now, it seemed the jailers had followed his advice. Though it was the dead of winter, the cell had a brazier, a wooden bed with bedding, and even a modest writing desk with ink and brushes.
Su Yan approached, crouched down, and picked up a sheet of ink-blotted paper. “What are you writing?”
A jailer behind him chimed in, “Who knows? All day long, he writes and burns, burns and writes, like paper and ink don’t cost money…”
Another jailer elbowed him, signaling him to shut up, then added, “Be careful, Lord Su. We’ll shackle him before you speak.”
Yan Chengxue sneered.
Su Yan waved his hand dismissively. “No need. He’s just a scrawny scholar. Even if he tried something, I could handle him.”
The jailers reluctantly brought over a grand armchair for Su to sit in and began picking up the scattered pages from the floor.
Su Yan flipped through the pages, gradually piecing things together.
“…You’re writing military strategy?” He clicked his tongue. “You… You don’t do your job properly, sitting around in the Imperial Stables with nothing to show for it. Instead, you meddle in army affairs at Qingshui Camp, using Huo Dun’s troops to play out your fantasies—and ended up turning the soldiers against their own general. What’s this called? Overstepping authority! A watchdog chasing mice!”
Yan Chengxue replied, “I never cared for managing horse administration. I offended someone and was demoted to the Imperial Stables in Shaanxi.”
Su Yan smirked. “Then why didn’t you resign, and let someone more willing take the position? Oh, because you couldn’t let go of the rank and salary. So you did nothing on one side, let the horse affairs go to rot, and on the other side, called yourself a misunderstood talent, dragging your friend into this mess just to satisfy your craving to command troops. Isn’t that right?”
A flush of shame-colored Yan Chengxue’s sickly pale cheeks. He gritted his teeth and said, “If you inlay a pearl in the wrong setting, even the finest gem will look like a pebble. That doesn’t mean it isn’t a pearl!”
Su Yan laughed heartily. “Aren’t you full of yourself? Still convinced you’re a hidden gem wronged by the court?”
Yan Chengxue pressed his lips into a thin line and crumpled up another sheet of paper, tossing it into the brazier. Flames licked it up in an instant.
Su Yan said, “I’m no expert in warfare, but even I know that good military strategy balances the conventional and the unconventional—win by orthodoxy, strike by surprise. But your training methods emphasize the latter and ignore the former. You focus on individual skills and small unit tactics, yet neglect overarching strategy. You emphasize deceit and tricks, but lack vision and foresight.
“Your military thinking, like your personality, is extreme, acerbic, and narrow-minded.”
Yan Chengxue fumed, “Warfare is the way of deception! You—child—are not worthy to debate this!”
The more furious he grew, the more he started quoting old texts, spitting out classical phrases. Huo Dun, who knew his temperament well, didn’t dare provoke him further.
Su Yan didn’t care. In fact, he acted even more dismissively, shaking the papers with disdain. “With your attitude, if they gave you command of tens of thousands of soldiers, you’d lose the whole army in no time. Frankly, the court promoting you to the Stables was already giving you too much credit.”
Yan Chengxue clenched a fist to his chest and began coughing violently.
“—Lord Su!” came an urgent voice from behind.
Su Yan turned to see Huo Dun in prison garb, chained hand and foot, being escorted from another cell.
Huo Dun looked at him, but his eyes were fixed on Yan Chengxue as he pleaded, “My lord, please have mercy. When Old Yan was young, his hometown suffered a disaster. He survived a Tartar massacre and was left with a weak heart and lungs. Please, show him some pity.”
Su Yan thought: When he was making poison, crafting hidden weapons, and ordering arrows to be loosed on Aletan, his lungs seemed pretty strong. A man-eating flower—and you still treat him like a delicate lotus.
The chains clinked as Huo Dun stepped closer to Yan Chengxue. “Old Yan, we’re prisoners now. Lord Su is a court official. We should listen when told, accept what comes. Don’t be so stubborn—it only hurts you.”
Yan Chengxue, after coughing up a storm, pale-faced and seething, sneered, “If you’re so eager to get by, go ahead—throw all the blame on me. Just don’t meddle in my affairs!”
Huo Dun was stung, anger rising in his eyes. “You—how can you be so unreasonable?!”
Yan Chengxue replied coldly, “I’ve always been unreasonable and not worth your trouble. You’ve known that since day one. Why bother now?”
“Alright,” Su Yan clapped his hands and said lazily, “I was worried you two were brothers-in-hardship, with a bond stronger than gold, and might take the blame for each other. But now it seems I overthought it.”
“To save time, I’ll get straight to the point. The letter from the Oirat specifically names Yan Chengxue as the one to pay for the life of their prince. After much deliberation, His Majesty has decided to use his head to ease the tension at the border, to prevent the Oirat and Tatar from joining forces and launching an attack. I figured, since we at least knew each other during those six months in Shaanxi, I requested permission to come and send him off.”
Huo Dun was shocked: “His Majesty really plans to execute him? He truly isn’t the one who tried to assassinate the Oirat prince—may His Majesty see the truth! Lord Su, you know the inside story better than anyone. I beg you, please explain things to His Majesty—Old Yan is truly innocent!”
Su Yan replied coolly, “At this point, does innocence even matter? Forget about one guilty official’s head—even if it were ten or twenty—if it serves the greater good, it must be taken.”
Huo Dun collapsed to his knees with a thud, and shuffled forward on them to plead before Su Yan: “Lord Su! I know His Majesty trusts you deeply. If you are willing to plead on Old Yan’s behalf, His Majesty will surely reconsider. How about this—I’ll confess to everything. After all, I was involved with the Aletan incident. The Oirat guards saw me fighting him, and the poisoned weapon was found on me. Wouldn’t it make more sense to use my head to atone?”
Yan Chengxue suddenly stood up, staggered a little, and roared in fury: “What does my business have to do with you?! Don’t meddle in it! Huo, you want to take the blame? See if I even appreciate it! I’d rather lose my head than watch you act like some spineless coward—get out! Get out of here!”
Su Yan spread his hands at Huo Dun. “You heard him. He told you to get out.”
Huo Dun gritted his teeth and stayed kneeling. He begged Su Yan again: “Lord Su, Old Yan barely survived the massacre in his hometown as a boy. His lungs and heart have been weak ever since. Please, for the sake of Heaven’s mercy, let him live out his rightful years. As for me, I’ve always been ready to die in battle. If losing my head helps Great Ming more than fighting ten or twenty battles, then it’s worth it. I really don’t mind.”
“You may not mind, but I do,” Su Yan said. “You’ve guarded Qingshui Camp for years without major faults, and even had minor merits. You’re only an accomplice. I’ve already petitioned His Majesty to spare your life so you can continue to serve. If you die now, my plea would’ve been in vain, and I’d lose face. His Majesty has agreed to strip you of your rank, demoting you to a common soldier—to serve at the border. And not just any post—you’ll be sent to the ‘Ye Bu Shou.’”
Before Huo Dun could react, Yan Chengxue’s face turned pale. “How is that any different from a death sentence? The Ye Bu Shous operate day and night in all weather, carrying out the most dangerous missions deep in enemy territory. It’s a one-in-ten chance of survival. The squad is in decline—there’s not even a commanding officer. He may leave alive, but he’ll never come back!”
Su Yan remained unmoved. “You worry for Huo Dun’s life—why not spare a thought for the other soldiers? Even now, while we talk in this warm room, many Ye Bu Shous are out in the snowy northern wastes risking their lives. What, their lives aren’t lives? Only your Old Huo’s life is precious? The rest are expendable? Besides, you’ll be dead soon anyway. Even if he dies en route, you won’t be around to see it. What are you worrying about?”
Huo Dun said urgently, “Lord Su, I’m willing to go to the Ye Bu Shous and serve as the lowest scout. Just please spare Old Yan’s life. Though he’s a Confucian scholar, he’s far better at training troops than I am. He’s more useful to the country than I am!”
Su Yan replied, “I haven’t seen how capable he is, but I’ve seen his attitude. He refuses to bow, won’t serve under me—why keep him around? Just to waste prison rations?”
“Enough!” Yan Chengxue strode over to Huo Dun, flung his robes aside, and knelt beside him, biting his lip with bitter frustration. “Lord Su has long despised me as arrogant and disrespectful, and now he’s come to the prison just to grind my pride into dust. Well, congratulations—he’s succeeded. I, Yan Chengxue, have never knelt to anyone but Heaven, Earth, monarch, parent, and teacher. Today, I kneel to you, Lord Su!”
He kowtowed three times with heavy thuds. Blood trickled from his forehead where it struck the rough ground. Huo Dun rushed to support him, but was shoved aside. Yan continued, “These three kowtows are not for my own survival—but for this fool Huo Dun. He may be a fool, but he’s loyal, an excellent marksman, brave in battle. Even if he’s not a soldier, he’d make a fine bodyguard. Lord Su, I see you only have one personal guard—”
“Please don’t,” Su Yan cut in immediately. “One bodyguard is enough for me. Any more and I’d be overwhelmed… overwhelmed, truly.”
Disappointed, Yan Chengxue’s voice sharpened. “If not that, then let him be a lowly prison guard—better that than a Ye Bu Shou.”
A guard nearby, “….”
Su Yan smiled. “You’re trying to win him a way out? Too bad your knees aren’t worth that much. He will go to the Ye Bu Shous.”
“I’ll go! I’ll do any task, anything,” Huo Dun said firmly. “Just please spare Old Yan’s life.”
Yan Chengxue said nothing more, but his cold eyes locked on Su Yan like a cornered snake, coiling and preparing to strike with all its venom.
Su Yan waved a hand, signaling the jailers to leave.
They hesitated. One said awkwardly, “My Lord, it’s not that we disobey, but we’ve strict orders to guarantee your safety. Even in shackles, the prisoner is a skilled fighter…”
“Leave. What follows is not for your ears,” Su Yan said firmly.
Still hesitant, the four armed guards from the hallway entered the cell and stood behind Su Yan. Only then did the jailers finally retreat, relieved.
Since these were the Emperor’s personal guards, Su Yan no longer saw a need for secrecy. He said to Yan Chengxue, “Huo Dun will be sent to the Ye Bu Shous. But—I can place his life in your hands. You decide whether he lives or dies.”
“What do you mean?” Yan Chengxue asked.
“The missions he participates in—whether as an individual or part of a squad—will be under your command. All intelligence will be delivered to you in advance. You will analyze the enemy situation, judge the circumstances, devise the tactics, and he will execute them.”
Su Yan paused, leaned in closer to Yan Chengxue, staring into the sunken, weary sockets of his pale face, and said clearly and softly: “Remember, his life is in your hands. A single misjudgment or wrong command from you could get him killed because of you.”
Yan Chengxue clutched his robe tightly, his fists clenched so hard that his entire body seemed to tremble slightly.
Su Yan slowly smiled. “As I said just now, with your capabilities, being a squad leader commanding fifty men is already your limit. Don’t worry, Ye Bu Shou never deploys in large numbers. Each mission only involves a few people—at most a dozen. More than that, and they risk exposure.”
“You, Yan Chengxue, will start as the Zongqi of Ye Bu Shou, properly receiving missions and assigning them to your subordinates. But you’re not allowed to accompany him. You’re weak and untrained—going along would only slow him down.”
“And if you dare betray the country or collude with the enemy—the Huo family, all thirty-six of them—”
Su Yan clapped his knee, stood up, and said to the guards, “Let’s go.”
“…Wait.” Yan Chengxue stopped him. “You just said Oirat demanded my head by name. What do you plan to do about that?”
Su Yan tilted his head. “I have my ways. You’d better focus on how to use your unorthodox military strategies to keep your best friend alive, again and again.”
Watching Su Yan leave with his guards, Huo Dun comforted him with relief, “It’s fine. So what if we go? At least both of us are still alive.”
Yan Chengxue wiped the blood from his forehead with his sleeve and said gloomily, “He never planned to kill us from the start. He just wants to squeeze every last drop of use out of us. That Su Twelve…”
Huo Dun said, “No matter what, as long as we live, there’s still a chance.”
Su Yan stepped out of the imperial prison’s corridor and took a deep breath of the cold, crisp post-snow air. Feeling as though the filth in his chest had been swept clean, he chuckled, “Do I look like a villain who tears lovers apart?”
No one responded.
The four imperial guards behind him—fully realized celestial generals in mortal form—followed the Jade Emperor’s will to the letter and absolutely refused to join in any indecent banter with this earthly “male Chang’e.”
Su Yan pouted in boredom, missing his cold-faced, shy-yet-bold personal guard.
He made his way toward the Northern Surveillance Bureau’s main hall, the four guards silently trailing behind.
Outside the hall, he was told that Shen Qi had personally taken men to investigate the scene identified by the night watchman, leaving Qianhu Shi Yanshuang to guard the bureau.
Shi Yanshuang stole glances at the elegant and handsome Lord Shaoqing before him, wildly speculating about his relationship with their superior. One outrageous thought even flashed through his mind: Could this be the “bewitching lady” Shen Tongzhi keeps trying to hide?
The four guards behind Su Yan seemed to sense something. They all glared at Shi Yanshuang in unison. He shrank his neck and broke out in a cold sweat, silently cursing himself—“Nope, can’t mess with them. That aura’s too d*mn strong!”
Su Yan told him to deliver a message to Shen Qi: once the murderer was caught, consider the case closed. Any remaining questions should be set aside for now. Once he had a clearer picture on his end, he would report the truth.
After Shi Yanshuang promised to deliver the message, Su Yan left with his guards.
