“I have no right to take action, nor do I wish to. Otherwise, how would I be any different from you?” Su Yan slowly released his grip and flung the short sword deep into the woods.
Yun Xi laid on a large stone, gazing at the cloud-shrouded moon in the dim night sky. “I’ve only known you for two days. Though I approached you with ulterior motives and malice, there were fleeting moments when I considered abandoning my plan to take your life… But the blood of Ye Donglou splattered onto my hands, searing hot like a brand, constantly reminding me day and night that a man sunk deep into the mire, both body and soul drenched in blood, has no right to seek redemption. Not even a fleeting thought of it.”
“One wrong move, and the entire game is lost,” Su Yan murmured regretfully as he stood up, clutching his bleeding wound, and walked toward Chongzhi Hall.
He didn’t look back at Yun Xi, nor did he want to dwell on the fate of the once-proud Tanhua who had now fallen into the mud. Ultimately, his end would be bleak, just as the poem foretold: ‘A lone crane’s cry cuts through the cold, the reflection of a thousand rivers lit by a chilling moon.’
Dragging his injured leg, worsened by the night’s ordeal, Su Yan limped out of the forest. In the distance, he spotted two or three patrolling guards carrying lanterns as they entered the rear garden through the yuedong gate.
“Who’s there?” one of the guards shouted, gripping the hilt of his saber as they approached briskly.
Su Yan smiled bitterly. “I am Su Qinghe, Shidu to the Crown Prince and a Xianma at the Bureau of Classics.”
“Ah, it’s Lord Su.” The leading guard looked at him, startled by his mud- and blood-covered appearance. “Why is my lord wandering the rear garden so late at night and in such a state?”
“The injuries look worse than they are,” Su Yan replied. “Kind sirs, may I borrow a lantern to find my way back to the hall?”
The guards exchanged glances, and the leader said, “That won’t do, my lord. Let us escort you back.”
Before Su Yan could refuse, the other two guards stepped forward, each taking an arm and firmly supporting him.
Caught between them and unable to move, Su Yan realized something was amiss. He suspected these were assassins sent by Feng Que. As panic set in, he opened his mouth to shout for help.
But the two guards, experienced in such tasks, anticipated his attempt and quickly covered his mouth and nose. They dragged him toward a secluded grotto behind an artificial hill.
Su Yan, knowing his life was on the line, struggled desperately, kicking over a decorative flower pot on a low lantern post.
The pot shattered loudly against the stone path, the sharp sound echoing far in the still night. Fan Tongxuan drew his blade and ordered, “Finish him here. No point in dragging this out. Keep him quiet.”
As the blade swung toward his chest, Su Yan closed his eyes in despair, convinced his life was over. He wondered if there was another life waiting for him after this, whether it would be in the same era, and whether he’d meet the same people again.
Images of the Crown Prince, the Emperor, the Commander, Wu Ming, and Yu Wang flashed through his mind. A sudden surge of reluctance and sorrow filled him. He couldn’t help but wonder: if he died a violent death, would these people grieve for him? He didn’t wish for others to feel sorrow, yet the thought of dying with no one to mourn him felt unbearably tragic—a failure in life so absolute it might be better not to have lived at all.
Caught between life and death, his mind spun with fleeting, wild thoughts. Suddenly, the whistling sound of rushing wind cut through the air, followed by a pained cry.
Su Yan opened his eyes to see the guard poised to kill him now lying face down on the ground, a jagged tree branch lodged in his back.
The branch, as thick as a child’s arm, was clearly snapped off in haste. Its sharp, uneven end had pierced clean through the man’s body. This impromptu weapon, nearly three feet long and slightly curved, had been thrown with such force that it was like a spear. The sheer strength required was astonishing.
Standing at the yuedong gate was a cloaked figure in a dark cape, hood drawn low. His silhouette seemed vaguely familiar to Su Yan.
The remaining two guards, enraged by their leader’s death, abandoned Su Yan and charged at the cloaked figure, drawing their blades.
The cloaked man, however, didn’t flinch. He met the first guard head-on with a punch so powerful it shattered the man’s face, sending his blade flying—a perfect demonstration of “strength without finesse, supreme skill in simplicity.”
The other guard engaged the cloaked man in a fierce exchange of blows, but he too was outmatched and could only resort to desperate tactics to hold on.
Meanwhile, the first guard, his face a bloody mess, saw the situation turning against them. Remembering his orders, he gritted his teeth and lunged at Su Yan.
In this moment of peril, Su Yan’s mind cleared. He recalled a move Wu Ming had taught him—the “Hidden within the leaves mandarin duck kick.” With precision, he executed the move, intercepting the guard’s attack and finishing with a powerful kick aimed squarely at the man’s groin.
The guard let out an inhuman scream, clutching his lower abdomen as he doubled over, trembling uncontrollably like a shrimp tossed into boiling water.
The sight was enough to make Su Yan wince in sympathy, though inwardly, he felt relieved that his relentless practice against the old tree trunk at home had paid off. The bark had been worn smooth under his daily kicks, and now, in its first real application, the move had proven surprisingly effective.
The cloaked man, seeing Su Yan free, sighed in relief. He disarmed the remaining guard and swiftly ended the fight, striking him down with the fallen saber. As the defeated guard collapsed, he clawed at the cloaked man’s hood, pulling it off.
“Your Highness, Yu Wang?” Su Yan exclaimed, stunned.
At this moment, he was covered in mud and blood, his clothes torn, and even his hairpin was askew. A few loose strands of black hair clung to his sweat-drenched cheeks, making him look both pitiful and disheveled. The elegance and charm he once carried had completely vanished.
Yu Wang took in the sight but felt no revulsion—only heartache. He hurried forward and asked, “Where are you injured? Let’s stop the bleeding first.”
“My left arm and right leg.”
Yu Wang tore strips of cloth from his own clean garments, rolled up the other’s sleeve, and bound the wound tightly to staunch the bleeding. As for the wound on the outer thigh, since Su Yan refused to remove his pants, he had no choice but to tie the bandage over the fabric.
“It’s just a flesh wound. Applying some golden wound salve will suffice,” Su Yan said gratefully. “Thank you, Your Highness, for saving me. May I ask—was Your Highness here by chance tonight, or was this planned in advance?”
Yu Wang replied, “I was already planning to visit the small southern courtyard tonight. On my way, I happened to encounter an Embroidered Uniform Guard commander, who pretended to have a spooked horse and slipped this paper ball to me. Seeing that the situation was urgent, I spurred my horse and rushed over, arriving just in time.”
He pulled out a crumpled paper ball from his robe and handed it to Su Yan.
“An Embroidered Uniform Guard commander? Could it have been Shen Qi?” Su Yan, using the lantern on the ground, opened the paper to take a look. It was a secret memorial addressed directly to the Emperor. It revealed that Feng Que had temporarily reassigned him to the Northern Surveillance Bureau and had sent Commander Fan Tongxuan to assassinate the Crown Prince’s Shidu. Su Yan was in grave danger and, given the circumstances, could no longer serve as a guard. The memorial urgently requested the Emperor to assign someone else to immediately head to the small southern courtyard.
Su Yan drew in a faint breath.
Though the secret memorial was brief, its implications were immense.
First, Shen Qi, a mere commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, was somehow able to send a direct message to the emperor. When had such a connection been established?
After considering the possibilities, Su Yan could only arrive at one conclusion: Shen Qi had never truly been loyal to Feng Que, despite working under him for a decade. He had likely been gathering leverage against him in secret. After the murder of Ye Donglou, Shen Qi must have resolved to betray Feng Que, taking the risky step of secretly meeting the emperor to submit evidence of Feng Que’s crimes and risking his life to accuse his superior.
The emperor had not acted against Feng Que at the time, for if he had, Shen Qi would already be dead. Perhaps the emperor had long been wary of Feng Que but refrained from taking action. Shen Qi’s revelations might have provided the exact opportunity the emperor needed to make his move.
Second, Su Yan now realized that his own placement in the small southern courtyard was not as perilous as it had seemed. While both the crown prince and Yu Wang had criticized the emperor for endangering Su Yan, it turned out that the emperor had taken measures to ensure his safety. He had arranged for Shen Qi to infiltrate the courtyard, disguised as a guard, to secretly protect Su Yan. Shen Qi’s occasional appearances in Su Yan’s quarters now made perfect sense.
The emperor’s far-reaching strategy was admirable, but what truly moved Su Yan was Shen Qi’s resolve.
Being a double agent was no simple task! Shen Qi had to navigate the treacherous waters of serving Feng Que, subtly sabotaging him and rescuing others, while maintaining the pretense of loyalty to avoid suspicion. At the same time, he had to ensure that his communications with the emperor remained entirely covert. Walking such a fine line was akin to traversing a tightrope over an abyss—one misstep, and he would be utterly destroyed.
Tonight, Shen Qi’s decision to hand the secret memorial to Yu Wang was likely born of sheer desperation.
If Yu Wang had entertained even a shred of ulterior motives, Shen Qi’s fate would have been sealed. The commander had gambled his very life, placing his faith in the Wangye’s genuine concern for Su Yan, hoping he would arrive in time to save him.
And Yu Wang had not failed him. By arriving promptly, he had managed to pull Su Yan back from the brink of death at the hands of Fan Tongxuan.
Amidst all the hidden dangers, flashing blades, and surging undercurrents, Su Yan had only begun to grasp the full picture at this moment… Holding his breath as he recalled the chain of events, cold sweat soaked through his heavy robes.
Clutching the secret memorial tightly, he felt as though he were holding Shen Qi’s burning, resolute heart. Sitting dazed on a roadside rock, his thoughts were tangled in a chaotic web.
Yu Wang saw Su Yan’s dazed expression and assumed he was too weak to stand. Quickly removing his cloak, he wrapped it around Su Yan and lifted him into his arms. “Your injuries are serious. I’ll take you back to your room at once and summon the imperial physician for treatment.”
Su Yan felt like he was missing something crucial. Grabbing Yu Wang’s arm, he called out, “Wait… let me think a little more!”
Yu Wang frowned slightly. “I am here. What else could you be worrying about? Focus on healing, and I’ll handle everything else.”
“I’m worried…” Su Yan finally pieced his thoughts together and said urgently, “There’s still Yun Xi in the rear garden! If Feng Que sent more than just those three assassins, and others discover the bodies and search the area, he’ll end up walking straight into danger. He’s the real murderer of Ye Donglou. If he dies before facing justice, unclear and unexplained, no amount of explanations from me will silence the doubters.”
Yu Wang was taken aback. “He’s the real culprit? He and Donglou were classmates and always seemed close. Donglou often spoke highly of him in my presence, praising his noble character, disdain for vulgarity, and true scholarly integrity. Why would he want to kill Donglou?”
Being held in Yu Wange’s arms made Su Yan feel deeply uncomfortable. He struggled free and steadied himself on the ground, unable to suppress the anger rising in his chest. “Isn’t it all because of your own misdeeds, Wangye? If you hadn’t dragged Ye Donglou into this mess, none of this would have happened!”
Yu Wang assumed Su Yan was jealous, and, secretly pleased, hurriedly explained, “That was before I met you. If you’re willing to accept me, I promise never to look at anyone else again. My heart will belong solely to you.”
Su Yan didn’t believe a word of it. With a cold laugh, he replied, “Wangye, your favor is deeply appreciated, but I truly don’t walk that path. Even if I did, I’d seek a worthy companion to share my life with—I could never accept fleeting, meaningless affection.”
“This Wangye’s heart is true to you, Su Qinghe. How could you—”
Su Yan looked up at the sky, pointing to the fleeting full moon peeking through the clouds, and mocked, “Does Your Highness intend to swear an oath to me under the moon as well? Proclaim something like, ‘Until the end of time, my love will never fade’? Ye Langzhong’s blood is barely cold, and I’ve no intention of following in his tragic footsteps.”
Yu Wang was left both embarrassed and angry, feeling as though he had hoisted a rock only to drop it on his own foot. He could not resist defending himself, though his voice faltered. “I am not truly frivolous or lustful—” He stopped abruptly, his expression darkening as his lips pressed into a thin line, refusing to speak further.
Su Yan smirked. “The sages said, ‘Food and sex are human nature.’ Clearly, lust is part of human nature, especially for men. I understand that, as a Wangye of high rank and power, it’s normal for you to have a harem full of favored consorts. But I ask only that your favor does not fall upon me. Wangye, do you even know why Yun Xi killed Ye Donglou?”
The night wind carried a chill. Feeling cold and weak from blood loss, Su Yan tightened the cloak around himself, grabbed a lantern, and began walking unsteadily back toward the forest. Along the way, he recounted the case’s intricacies and Yun Xi’s motives for murder in detail.
Yu Wang followed closely behind, his expression growing increasingly pale. His face shifted from white to green to purple, the full spectrum of humiliation and regret.
Su Yan’s words cut like invisible whips, striking him mercilessly. Were it not for the darkness concealing his face, he might have turned and fled, unwilling to endure this verbal lashing any longer.
They searched the area but found no trace of Yun Xi. Stopping by the large stone where Yun Xi had lain earlier, Su Yan sighed in disappointment. “It seems he’s already gone. The net of heaven is wide and dense—he won’t get far.”
Yu Wang gradually regained his composure, his emotions settling. He spoke with a tone of remorse, “I did not kill Bo Ren, but Bo Ren died because of me… This is entirely my fault. My reckless actions, thinking mutual consent meant no harm, have wounded others far more deeply than I ever imagined.
“I treated affection as a mere pastime, assuming I could take it or leave it at will. I foolishly believed that everyone could handle parting without pain. But I never truly considered the feelings of others. As a Wangye of the realm, my power and status allow me to dictate relationships as I please. Who would dare resist if I wish to start or end an affair? It’s nothing but coercion disguised as fairness.”
Su Yan, hearing Yu Wang’s heartfelt acknowledgment of his mistakes, began to see him in a new light. Yu Wang’s sincerity, coupled with his willingness to reflect on his actions, softened Su Yan’s harsh judgment.
Remembering Yu Wang’s rescue tonight, Su Yan decided not to maintain his stern demeanor. He spoke kindly, “It is said that recognizing and correcting one’s mistakes is the greatest virtue. If Wangye can truly reflect and change, you’ll be a model for us all. As for the harsh words I’ve spoken tonight, they stem from your own assertion that we’re friends. And as friends, we’re bound to correct each other’s faults. How could I remain silent in the face of your errors?”
Yu Wang rarely heard Su Yan speak to him so candidly. While touched, he also felt a pang of bitterness. “Friends? Do you think this Wangye lacks for friends?”
Su Yan felt humiliated, his teeth clenched in frustration. “It seems I overestimated myself. I’m unworthy of being your friend!”
Realizing Su Yan had misunderstood, Yu Wang hurriedly stepped forward, wrapping him in his arms with a sigh of helplessness. “You know my true feelings. Calling you a ‘friend’ is merely an excuse, a stalling tactic. I genuinely love you. What must I do to make you believe me?”
The conversation had gone in circles yet again. Su Yan, thoroughly exasperated by Yu Wang’s obstinacy, was furious that even now, all he seemed to want was to seduce him. His hands trembled as he threw out, “Stay away from me! I don’t even want to see you right now,” pushing Yu Wang aside and storming off in a huff.
