This winter wasn’t particularly cold, and little snow had fallen. In a few days, it would be time for the spring recess.
The young Emperor had replaced his mourning hemp robes and plain crown, holding court daily at the West Gate. Civil and military officials all wore white mourning garments to attend morning court, and the six ministries and capital offices had largely resumed normal operations.
The Ministry of Rites was already planning: once a hundred days had passed since the late Emperor’s funeral, the new monarch’s coronation ceremony could be held in February next year.
Several pieces of good news lifted everyone’s spirits:
Mei Changxi, commanding the Xiaoling Guards, had broken through the encirclement of the Wang brothers’ rebel army and, with reinforcements from the Five Camps, struck back and successfully returned to the capital.
Though only eighteen hundred of the three thousand guards survived, Mei Changxi said this was the true forging of the Xiaoling Guard. Routine drills were never enough; only those who had faced death and blood on the battlefield could become a genuinely battle-ready army.
Zhu Helin grasped his bandaged arm and said with emotion, “Meizi, why not stay in the capital? I can expand the city’s three main garrisons into four, and you could command one.”
Mei Changxi shook his head. “The Xiaoling Guard’s duty is to protect the tombs of the founding Emperor. It’s a charge passed down through generations.”
Zhu Helin, unwilling to give up, wanted to issue an edict proclaiming their loyalty and valor to the world, but Mei Changxi refused even that.
Mei Changxi hoped that the Xiaoling Guard would remain an unexpected strike force, one that could turn the tide in desperate moments. Perhaps the current Emperor might never need them in his lifetime, but there would be another Emperor after him, and then another. And Meizi himself would have sons and grandsons. The Mei family would forever remain the Great Ming Emperor’s most reliable hidden card.
Zhu Helin was deeply moved. From the imperial treasury, he granted a large sum of silver as military funds for him to take back to Nanjing.
Mei Changxi did not refuse the money. He needed to pay compensation to the families of the fallen and to have enough training funds to recruit new blood.
Before departure, Zhu Helin looked him up and down and said, “You’re a bit tanned, but your physique and looks are decent. How about taking a look at my sisters? The twin princesses, both thirteen, quite beautiful. If you take a liking to one another, in two or three years you could talk marriage.”
Mei Changxi flushed bright red and waved his hands repeatedly. “I wouldn’t dare climb so high. My family has already arranged a betrothal for me.”
Just then, Wei Liangzi returned to the capital with the Eastern Palace’s guards. Their boat had capsized on the canal and they’d swallowed half a river’s worth of mud. Fortunately, they were good swimmers; apart from a few who caught cold, all made it back safely.
So Zhu Helin hosted a farewell banquet at the Crown Prince’s residence, Duanben Palace, inviting all who had escorted him safely back to the capital, regardless of rank, to sit together at a round table:
Mei Changxi, Wei Liangzi, Shen Qi, Jinghong Zhui, Su Yan, and Yu Wang.
At the table, they spoke only of friendship, not of state affairs.
Speaking only of friendship, however, made Lord Su a little uneasy, for among the six, four had rather special bonds with him.
So he kept drinking to hide his awkwardness.
Jinghong Zhui and Shen Qi sat on either side of him, both scolding that a man barely recovered shouldn’t be drinking. Su Yan had once held his liquor well, but after being ill for so long, his tolerance was gone. After seven or eight cups, he was already three parts drunk.
Yu Wang sat beside Jinghong Zhui, drinking as if it were water. His gaze constantly crossed over Jinghong Zhui’s head, smiling faintly as he watched Su Yan’s tipsy expression.
Zhu Helin, not wanting to sit next to Shen Qi, chose a seat directly opposite Su Yan. Though farther away, the view was clearer.
Wei Liangzi sat beside Shen Qi, not at all bothered by him, indeed, somewhat admiring. He kept looking for excuses to get the hero Shen to remove his upper robe, hoping to pay silent homage to the scars on his back from torture, which he saw as marks of courage and manhood.
Mei Changxi, more straight-laced by nature, had little to say to the playful Yu Wang, but he was quite intrigued by Jinghong Zhui’s martial skill.
After several rounds, Su Yan suddenly stood up and declared, “There’s still one brother missing from this table!”
Zhu Helin froze, could he mean Royal Father? He mustn’t say that aloud!
Shen Qi lowered his eyes, staring at the crab claw on his plate, thinking, Qinghe knows his limits… though his ‘limits’ are rather like these crab claws, too many of them, and I’d like to snap them off.
Jinghong Zhui remained utterly calm, as if he’d already transcended worldly concerns.
Yu Wang chuckled twice and played along. “And who might this missing hero be?”
“Lihua!” Su Yan said plaintively. “How long has it been since I’ve touched her, buried my face in her soft belly? When can I bring her home from Nanjing?”
Shen Qi: A new sweetheart in Nanjing? Fair skin, soft belly… a woman? Tch, impossible.
Jinghong Zhui: The lord wants to take on someone new? Is his body even up for it?
“…The name’s a bit common, but one shouldn’t judge by names,” Yu Wang said magnanimously, though his tone had a sour edge. “And who is this divine beauty who’s captured our Lord Su’s heart?”
Su Yan shot him an irritated look. “What do you mean common? It’s the elegance of simplicity, returning to the natural. ‘Lihua’ is Li-hua, as in tabby! ”
Wei Liangzi couldn’t help laughing, though his heart ached, his own lost cat now being flaunted by another man.
Zhu Helin burst out laughing. “Right, right! I miss Lihua too! I’ll have the Nanjing Ministry of Rites send her up tomorrow!”
Mei Changxi hesitated but decided he must speak, even if it spoiled the mood. “Having an official office deliver a beauty a thousand miles to the capital, it’s hardly proper. Better wait until after the new Emperor’s enthronement to enrich the harem.”
Zhu Helin clapped him on the shoulder with a grin. “She’s my and Qinghe’s daughter.”
Mei Changxi froze, his whole face threatening to crack.
Yu Wang snorted. “You and Qinghe? Who gave birth to her?”
Shen Qi instinctively glanced at Su Yan.
Su Yan let out a drunken hiccup and said, “Wei Liangzi did.”
***
After the banquet, everyone departed. Zhu Helin, being the Emperor, could not personally see them off. Mei Changxi left first, and Wei Liangzi said he was going to visit his ailing subordinates.
Yu Wang, on the pretext of sharing the same route, walked with Su Yan toward the Donghua Gate.
Shen Qi claimed he needed to walk off the wine, and Jinghong Zhui, ever the dutiful bodyguard, followed, so what began as two people walking became four.
Yu Wang didn’t mind the extra company and said casually to Su Yan, “I plan to leave the capital right after the seventh day of the new year, taking my officials and guards back to my fief in Great Tong.”
The seventh day, so soon? Su Yan thought, but then realized that returning to his fief, to the frontier, had always been Yu Wang’s long-held wish. To him, Great Tong was home, this was what they called an arrow of returning heart.
Su Yan felt a sudden pang, he couldn’t tell if it was comfort or loss. Given how poor communication was in this age, they might not meet again for years.
Though they’d once been enemies, as Yu Wang had written, all that’s in the past. They’d long since reconciled, and after fighting side by side several times, a bond like brotherhood had formed. Now, parting across mountains and rivers, it did sting a little.
He thought for a while, unsure whether to persuade him to stay or let him go, and finally stammered, “When you leave, tell me. I’ll come see you off at the Five Mile Post Station.”
Yu Wang smiled. “Alright, I’ll send word a day ahead. Qinghe, is there anything else you’d like to say to me?”
Su Yan felt there was something he wanted to say, but his mind was a mess, and with these two “guardian deities” following, it wasn’t exactly a private moment. So he just shook his head.
Yu Wang’s eyes flickered with a trace of disappointment and sorrow, though the smile on his face remained. He clasped his hands toward Su Yan and said, “I’ll be taking my leave first.”
He turned with a carefree air, his wide sleeves brushing the cold night wind as he strode away. The winter moon hung above the spire of the pavilion, stretching his shadow long against the ground.
Even after he had gone far, his deep, sonorous voice still drifted faintly on the northern wind:
“Tonight I know not where I shall rest,
Across a thousand miles of barren sands, not a wisp of smoke in sight…”
Su Yan listened blankly to the verse carried by the wind, lost in a daze.
A young palace attendant came running from behind and bowed. “Lord Su, His Highness requests that you return once more to Duanben Palace. He has something to say to you.”
Su Yan hesitated. “But the palace gates are about to be locked.”
“It will only be a few words, sir. It won’t take long,” the attendant assured.
Su Yan nodded and followed him back, saying to Shen Qi and Jinghong Zhui, “Why don’t you two wait here for me?”
The two exchanged a glance, both faces rather grim. They had already gone from ‘what if he doesn’t come back’ to ‘if he doesn’t, we’ll storm the palace’, and now their minds had leapt all the way to ‘tonight I know not where he shall rest’.
Su Yan paused, turned back with a small smile, and said only two words: “Don’t worry.”
That smile seemed to carry real reassurance. Shen Qi and Jinghong Zhui stayed behind, one folded his arms and leaned against the palace wall, while the other leapt lightly onto the roof ridge and sat with his knees drawn up.
Su Yan followed the attendant into the hall. Inside the study, Zhu Helin was standing before the desk where he once practiced calligraphy each day, seemingly deep in thought. Su Yan approached and called softly, “Little Lord.”
Zhu Helin turned and handed him a folded slip of paper. “I found this inside the last policy essay my Royal Father corrected for me.”
Su Yan took the note, unfolded it, and under the candlelight saw Emperor Jinglong’s familiar handwriting: The matter of Yu Wang’s departure concerns the stability of the realm. Know this: to let a tiger loose is easy; to capture it again is hard. My son is perceptive, he must weigh his own strength and act with judgment.
Su Yan hesitated, then asked, “Your Highness once promised Yu Wang that if he helped you return to the capital, you’d allow him to leave. What are your thoughts now?”
Zhu Helin’s heart was tangled. “Out of promise and sentiment, I wish to let Fourth Uncle go. But Royal Father’s reasoning is sound, ‘to release the tiger is easy, to seize it again is hard.’ Once he reaches his fief, if ambition rekindles, if he raises troops again or the army rallies to him, who can guarantee he won’t harbor rebellious intent? Perhaps not even he himself can be sure.”
He looked at Su Yan, uncertain. “Qinghe, can you help me decide?”
Su Yan replied, “You are the Crown Prince, it’s your decision to make. I can only offer counsel, nothing more.”
“Then give me your counsel,” Zhu Helin pressed.
Su Yan smiled faintly, placing a hand on his shoulder and pointing to a line on the note. “The Emperor’s intent lies here.”
“‘Weigh your own strength’?”
“Exactly. His Majesty is asking: do you have faith in yourself? If you fear you won’t be able to control Yu Wang in the future, then keep him here. But if you trust your ability to rule, if you believe that no matter how the tides of the world shift you can still steady the realm, then let him go.”
Zhu Helin pondered deeply for a long time.
Finally, he said, “If I don’t even have the courage and confidence to release Fourth Uncle, how could I ever face powerful foes like the Player?
“Qinghe, I promised you once, one day, I will be a ruler of a prosperous age. I believe in myself.”
Su Yan smiled and nodded. “And I believe in you.”
Zhu Helin gazed at him in the candlelight. Amidst his stirring resolve, another, more burning emotion welled up, so fierce it ached in his chest, heat rising through his whole body.
He couldn’t help stepping closer, taking Su Yan’s hand and pressing it against his own chest. “…Here.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s beating too fast. My heart’s in chaos, it hurts, sharp, stabbing pains.”
“How could that suddenly happen? Could it be tachycardia?” Su Yan frowned in concern and pressed his ear lightly to his chest. “Staying up late, exhaustion, overexcitement, any of those can do it. And for someone young with a strong metabolism, it’s—”
He stopped short. Zhu Helin had cupped a hand against his cheek, pressing him tighter against his chest, muttering breathlessly, “Qinghe, make it stop, otherwise I’ll do something… something beastly…”
His face was caught between the other’s palm and chest; breathless and alarmed, Su Yan still managed a strained laugh. “What beastly thing could you possibly do, draw indecent sketches? Read erotic novels? All right, enough, let go, you’re going to suffocate me.”
“I’m the one suffocating!” Zhu Helin released his face, but as soon as Su Yan straightened, he was driven back step after step until his spine hit the wall. Zhu Helin’s body pressed close, hips grinding in restless frustration, caught between restraint and explosion. “I really am going to die of this…”
Realizing the situation’s seriousness, Su Yan tried to push him off but couldn’t. Pinned and thinking fast, he asked between breaths, “At dinner, those red cakes in front of you, what were they?”
“Deer-blood cakes.”
Su Yan let out a helpless laugh. “That explains it. Winter nourishment is fine, but overdoing tonics overheats the body, too much fire energy, too much yang. Drink some cooling tea, take a warm bath, you’ll be fine.”
“No time. I feel awful,” Zhu Helin panted, bracing one hand on the wall while the other fumbled at Su Yan’s waist. “Help me, Qinghe…”
Su Yan sighed, grabbed his wandering hand. “—Look. What’s this?”
“A hand.”
“No, this is called Miss Five. Let her help you.”
He folded Zhu Helin’s hand back toward him, patted his chest, and said, “Congratulations, young man, you’ve grown up. But I’ve told you before: no breaking ties, no crossing lines. Be more careful with what you eat next time.”
Then he pushed Zhu Helin aside and slipped neatly out from under his arm.
Zhu Helin heard Su Yan’s footsteps fade outside the study door. His overwhelming urge and flustered state immediately dropped to half its intensity. He murmured in a tone of mild grievance: “Even a few more touches and there’d be a reaction… yet you can really endure it.”
“…Miss Five?” He looked down at his right hand and sighed. “Maybe tonight I should give you a temporary name… let’s call you Qinghe… no, Qingqing.”
Su Yan’s steps were steady, though his heart felt a little light and fluttery. When he stepped out into the night wind, goosebumps rose all over him. He touched his flushed neck and felt the lingering heat in his lower abdomen slowly subside, finally exhaling in relief.
Clearly, one can’t hold in these things too long, it provokes a strong physiological reaction. A single tease and the fire ignites… Su Yan chided himself, thinking he should follow instinct to release a bit, lest something serious happen.
Wiping his face, he hurried along the palace path toward Donghua Gate. He saw Shen Qi and Jinghong Zhui still waiting, though far apart and seemingly at odds, each occupying a side of the palace wall.
A mischievous thought crossed his mind, Left Miss Five, Right Miss Five?
Shivering, he almost wanted to turn back and take a detour.
Shen Qi and Jinghong Zhui called simultaneously:
“Qinghe!”
“My lord!”
Su Yan walked over slowly and said, “It’s fine now. Let’s go home.”
Jinghong Zhui, sensing his still-restless energy from the heartbeat and breath, brightened: “The carriage is just ahead. I’ll drive.”
He then turned to Shen Qi. “You’re going the wrong way. Your home is west of the city, why not leave from Xihua Gate?”
Shen Qi replied coldly, “My body and Qinghe’s are one. His home is my home. But you, as a mere guard, should stay in the inner courtyard if you don’t want a beating.”
Jinghong Zhui replied lightly, “Why not settle it with a fight?”
Shen Qi knew he couldn’t win a solo fight and began calculating the odds of a group attack with firearms.
Su Yan, too embarrassed to listen any longer, dropped a line: “You two fight it out at your leisure. I think the summit of the Forbidden City is perfect, especially with the full moon tonight,” then hurriedly slipped into the carriage.
Shen Qi and Jinghong Zhui squeezed in behind him.
***
On New Year’s Eve, Su Yan spent the first half of the night at a private palace banquet, and the latter half at home, cooking hotpot. He found overeating exhausting.
He decided to spend the first day of the new year at the Fenghe Estate. Lighting incense and brewing tea, he sat leisurely beside Zhu Jintang, reading books aloud.
It was said that providing familiar external stimuli, like voices, music, and touch, could help awaken someone in a coma.
Throughout the day, Su Yan diligently read three books, sang for half an hour, and even rubbed Zhu Jintang’s hands until nearly worn raw.
Chen Shiyu shook his head and asked him out of the room, saying moderation was key.
With nothing else to do, and the offices closed for the New Year, Su Yan wandered around, only to be caught again by Zhu Helin. Zhu Helin, nearly driven mad by a pile of memorials, needed Su Yan’s help to review them.
“Call Yang Ting and the others to help,” Su Yan joked half-seriously. “I’m not even a Gelao.”
“—Soon enough.” Zhu Helin, without lifting his eyes from the documents, said casually, “The cabinet only has two ministers now, too few. After the New Year, I plan to promote three more. Do you have any interest?”
Su Yan paused. “Promote me to the cabinet after the New Year? That’s too fast… I’m barely twenty… Has there ever been a minister this young?”
“Qin Kingdom even had a twelve-year-old chancellor. If the current dynasty has no precedent, we’ll start with me.”
Su Yan still thought the promotion was too sudden and worried the older ministers with long beards wouldn’t accept it.
Zhu Helin said, “You passed the two imperial examinations, served as a Hanlin scholar, worked in the Sijing Bureau and Dali Temple, were a touring censor, and now serve as a third-rank deputy minister of rites. By background, rank, experience, merit, and ability, what’s inappropriate? It’s just that others take thirty years to reach this point, but your talent allows you to do it in three.”
Su Yan laughed. “Talent? More like having a golden hand and clinging to a golden thigh.”
Zhu Helin looked up from the desk, his slightly round eyes sparkling like morning stars. “Your fingers lend me help, my thigh lends you support.”
Su Yan suddenly recalled the previous night’s “Miss Five” and suspected Zhu Helin was making a crude joke. He scoffed.
Zhu Helin laughed. “Today, I’ll issue the decree: you’re relieved from your post as Left Shilang of the Ministry of Rites in Nanjing, and reassigned as Left Shilang of the Ministry of Personnel. Same rank, a lateral transfer, appropriate enough, right?”
Even a lateral transfer from Nanjing to the capital is technically a three-rank promotion. Seeing his determination, Su Yan didn’t resist and asked, “Why Personnel?”
“Personnel wields real power. And you’re good at managing people, no matter how unruly, everyone obeys you.”
Su Yan felt there was more to his words and suspected a subtle implication, and wondered when Zhu Helin had adopted this tone. Was it ambition maturing him, or inherited from the Emperor?
Zhu Helin, thinking Su Yan still worried about court opinion, added: “Don’t forget, protecting me and bringing me safely to the capital is a feat that silences everyone. You don’t realize how much merit that is. No one else, even in thirty years, can compare.”
Su Yan brightened. “That’s not my achievement alone.”
Zhu Helin pursed his lips. “I know who you’re thinking of. Don’t worry, public matters are public, private matters are private. No one will be denied what they deserve.”
Su Yan smirked. “Then I’ll thank His Highness for Qilang on his behalf.”
“You’ll say thanks for him?” Zhu Helin glared. “By what authority? As a colleague? A brother?”
Su Yan gave him a look that said, we don’t need to spell out things everyone already knows.
Zhu Helin flew into a rage and threw a memorial at him. “You heartless thing! I was obviously the one who knew you first. Before, you said I was too young. Now I’m not young anymore, yet you still keep pushing me away, spouting nonsense about having ‘no romantic feelings between men and women,’ and even using Royal Father as an excuse. Back when you and Royal Father were carrying on together, weren’t you perfectly open about kissing me too?”
Su Yan reached out and caught the nearly falling-apart memorial he had hurled through the air. Seeing that it was a military report from the Northern Steppe, he hurriedly smoothed out the creases. “That wasn’t being open. That was indulgence. I’ve already apologized for it.”
“Who wants your apology? Couldn’t you just keep indulging me? I never even minded the thing between you and Royal Father, yet you’re the one acting all awkward because of it now. Hypocritical pedant!”
Su Yan sighed.
“Let me shamelessly say this: I’m your teacher, personally appointed by your Father.” He emphasized his words. “Respect your teacher and honor the Dao, young master.”
Zhu Helin raised his chin at him provocatively. “Right now I’m the ruler and you’re the subject. The ruler is the guiding principle of the subject. Just wait and see—one day—”
