Su Yan approached slowly. “What is it?”
Shen Qi replied, “Nothing. Just wanted to call your name.”
Su Yan felt the atmosphere in the room turn inexplicably strange. Even the flickering candlelight seemed laced with ambiguity, making him uncomfortable. “If there’s nothing, then I’ll take my leave.”
“In a hurry, are you? Do you have a lovely wife or concubines waiting at home to warm your bed?” Shen Qi smirked mischievously. “Or perhaps those two clueless servants of yours—they’ll starve if you don’t go back?”
“Not at all. I told them I’d return by the first watch, and I don’t want to cause unnecessary worry.”
“And yet, you kept me waiting here for two whole days without any regard for whether I might be worried. So, in your heart, does this ‘brother bound by life and death’ rank even lower than your servants?”
Su Yan sighed, sitting down at the bedside to coax him. “Qilang, don’t say such hurtful things. I’ve already apologized.”
Shen Qi pretended to lift his head with effort. “I can’t move much now and have to strain to look up at you. It’s exhausting and painful. Why don’t you lie down and talk with me for a while?”
“…I’ve been out all day, covered in dust and sweat. It’s not appropriate to lie on the bed.”
“Then take a bath first. The hot water is ready, along with fresh clothes tailored to your size in the colors you like.”
“…”
Shen Qi, seeing Su Yan’s sullen silence, teased, “What? Afraid I’ll take advantage of you? I’m injured, after all.”
Su Yan thought to himself: You’re a repeat offender—I’d be a fool to trust you. Still, he glanced at Shen Qi’s bandaged wounds. If he really tries anything, he might end up ascending to heaven from sheer pain.
Shen Qi sighed dramatically. “I’ve been bedridden, unable to take a step, and I can’t let the servants see my pitiful state. I’ve barely spoken a word all day. If you don’t chat with me now, I might as well go mute. Besides, I want to hear how the investigation at the Northern Surveillance Bureau is going. What’s become of Feng Que? If you’re rooting out his cronies, I could help.”
Hearing this, Su Yan softened a little. He did need Shen Qi’s input to sort out the mess in the Embroidered Uniform Guard. Alright, I’ll talk for a while. If he dares try anything, I’ll throw a hard pillow at his back.
After enjoying a warm, relaxing bath, Su Yan dried his hair and changed into a set of casual moon-white inner robes and trousers. The fabric, made from fine silk, felt so light and thin that it was almost like wearing nothing. Every step he took, he couldn’t help but glance down to confirm he was actually dressed.
Shen Qi laid on his side, watching as Su Yan entered the inner room. Even before he fully approached, the subtle warmth and faint fragrance of his freshly bathed body seemed to fill the air. This scent was like a spark igniting a flame, rekindling the long-suppressed desires within Shen Qi, spreading heat down to his abdomen.
Just seeing Su Yan’s silhouette made Shen Qi’s body respond involuntarily. Yet, with his lower half pressed against the bed, there was no room for his arousal, leaving him uncomfortably strained. Trying to adjust his position only tugged at his wound, causing his face to pale.
Misunderstanding his movement, Su Yan said quickly, “Qilang, don’t trouble yourself. There’s plenty of room for me to lie down.”
Shen Qi cursed inwardly: Who’s making room for you? If not for this d*mn injury, you’d already be carrying my child!
Su Yan carefully maneuvered around him, climbed onto the bed, and laid down on the half closer to the wall.
The ba bu bed is named as such because of its broad surface, spacious enough to walk eight steps side by side, with room for another person to lie down without feeling cramped.
The moment Su Yan’s back hit the soft mattress, his entire body relaxed as if he were a fried egg cracked into a pan, the yolk luxuriously melting in its final resting place. His exhausted bones let out faint creaks of satisfaction, and he sighed deeply as if moaning, completely at ease.
Meanwhile, Commander Shen, unable to turn over, wished he could carve a hole in the bedboard to relieve his “loyal companion,” which had nowhere else to rest. Forced to endure, he could only take deep breaths, regulate his inner energy, and attempt to calm his throbbing pulse.
After sprawling out, Su Yan felt the tide of sleep washing over him. Fighting it, he barely managed to muster the energy to ask, “What is it you wanted to talk about?”
Talk about? Shen Qi wanted to retort. There’s nothing I want to talk about! You may be a gentleman who uses words instead of fists, but I, at this moment, am tempted to be a scoundrel. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Let’s discuss your first day in office—what have you accomplished?”
Su Yan briefly recounted the day’s hustle and bustle in just a few sentences.
“Not bad. The records in the Department of Affairs may seem like a pile of tedious paperwork, but they’re often overlooked keys to unraveling corruption. No matter how meticulous Feng Que was, there are bound to be traces in years of documentation. As for the personnel files of officials ranked Commander and above, if I recall correctly, there are 168 in total.”
Su Yan, already half-asleep, vaguely recalled there being over a hundred.
“I recognize almost all of them,” Commander Shen continued, pausing dramatically for effect, “and I could recount the behavior and reputation of at least half from the past decade.”
Silence.
Curious, Commander Shen propped himself up, only to find Su Yan had turned slightly toward the wall, already fast asleep. His hairpin had somehow come loose, still in his hand, and his damp, silken hair fanned out on the pillow, framing his fair, radiant face. He looked as serene and pure as the legendary lotus blooming amid the black flames of karma described in Buddhist texts.
For the blood-stained Commander Shen, it was a moment of almost divine reverence. He found himself silently praying to unseen gods, willing to give up anything if it meant this youth would always remain by his side.
Slowly, he raised a hand and brushed Su Yan’s cheek. In a hoarse, barely audible whisper, he murmured, “Wife.”
***
Su Yan woke to sunlight streaming through the room. Staring at the unfamiliar canopy above him, he idly thought the new curtains were a dreary raven-black… before jolting upright as the realization hit—this wasn’t his bed or his house.
He glanced to the side. Commander Shen was still asleep, holding his hand.
As his muddled thoughts cleared, Su Yan remembered how he had shamelessly—no, carelessly—fallen asleep mid-conversation last night.
And what a sleep it was—deep, dreamless, utterly restful.
Su Yan stared blankly at Shen Qi’s sleeping face for a while and, as if possessed, thought: This guy is quite handsome—good looks, great physique, clever mind, and capable methods. He’s just a bit ruthless. If he were categorized by modern alignments, he’d probably fall under Neutral Evil.
Yet when it came to Su Yan himself, Shen Qi had been nothing but loyal. If it weren’t for the successful production of penicillin, Shen Qi’s grave would already be sprouting grass. How to describe this bond? Words like deep loyalty felt too light; even willing to take a knife for him seemed insufficient. Perhaps only phrases like braving fire and water, risking life and death could do it justice.
In his past life, aside from his parents, Su Yan couldn’t think of anyone who would sacrifice for him to this extent. Classmates and friends wouldn’t. Childhood buddies and besties wouldn’t. Even his ex-girlfriend, who once made him fetch grilled lamb in the rain, certainly wouldn’t. Speaking of which, what did she even look like? What was her name again? He genuinely couldn’t recall anymore.
Thinking about it this way, Shen Qi didn’t have much to criticize… except for being male.
A bird flew past the window, chirping loudly, snapping Su Yan out of his thoughts. What am I even doing? This isn’t some matchmaking session. Why am I analyzing him point by point like this?!
Startled by his own train of thought, Su Yan shuddered, quickly pulled his hand away, and stealthily moved to the edge of the bed.
Just as he was about to put on his official boots, a voice came from behind. Shen Qi asked, “Did you sleep well last night?”
Su Yan forced a laugh. “Well enough. What about you, brother?”
After a brief pause, Shen Qi’s voice sounded again, carrying a faintly gloomy tone. “Not well. Lying prone for too long, my circulation is poor. Especially that spot, it’s swollen and aching without relief. Why not help me massage it, brother?”
It took Su Yan three seconds to realize what Shen Qi meant. His face grew slightly warm, and he spat, “Keep dreaming!”
Shen Qi feigned surprise. “How do you know what I dreamed about last night? Could it be that we brothers share a telepathic bond?”
Su Yan raised his fist as if to punch Shen Qi’s injured back. Shen Qi didn’t dodge, only curling his lips into a wicked, carefree grin.
“Enough nonsense! The sun is already high in the sky. Luckily, my superior excused me from morning roll call recently. Otherwise, I’d be reprimanded for being late on just my second day in office.” Su Yan hurriedly got up and began putting on his official robes.
The “reprimand” he mentioned was in the sense of being scolded, but in this era, it often meant being physically punished. Shen Qi’s face instantly turned cold. “What? Your newly promoted superior at the Dali Temple is so harsh that he’d dare to lay hands on you? Does he want to become the next Feng Que?”
Su Yan quickly explained, “Misunderstanding, misunderstanding! Lord Guan isn’t particularly warm toward me, but he’s not cold either—just strictly business.”
Only then did Shen Qi’s expression soften. He said, “Guan Pan is reasonable enough. In his eight years as the Left Shaoqing, he hasn’t caused any major trouble. With your temperament, you won’t suffer under his leadership. But beware of Wen Zhengyin, the new appointee. That man is all smiles and daggers—very duplicitous.”
Su Yan, impressed by Shen Qi’s knowledge of court affairs, couldn’t help but admire the skillset of the Embroidered Uniform Guard secret service. This reminded him of something Shen Qi had mentioned before bed last night.
“Last night, you said there are a total of 168 officers in the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and you know almost all of them? And you’re familiar with the conduct and reputations of more than half?”
Shen Qi’s eyes glinted with pride. “What did you think I’ve been doing all these years in the Embroidered Uniform Guard? Just interrogations? Espionage, surveillance, investigations—every one of these requires extensive knowledge. My familiarity with the Northern Surveillance Bureau is unmatched. If I claim to be second, who would dare claim first?”
Su Yan finally understood: this Commander Shen wasn’t just a local tyrant of the Northern Surveillance Bureau of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, but someone who had also harbored unspoken ambitions for years, collecting intelligence on his colleagues to prepare for future contingencies. No wonder he was so confident. The small fraction of people Shen wasn’t as familiar with likely belonged to the ceremonial guards and the Southern Surveillance Bureau.
… What an astonishing level of professional sensitivity and expertise! He was practically born to be a secret agent. In the Republican era, he could run the Military Intelligence Bureau; in modern times, he’d be perfect for the CIA or MI6.
A true professional! Su Yan turned his head, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Commander Shen.
Commander Shen, even more pleased, whistled teasingly at him.
Rolling his eyes, Su Yan sat before the mirror to deal with his troublesome long hair. He was still clumsy with styling a topknot—either leaning too far left or right, nothing seemed to work. Seeing this, Shen Qi tugged on a long cord hanging off the bed.
A silver bell chimed lightly outside the room, and maids promptly entered in single file. They carried fragrant water, face towels, a washbasin, a toothbrush, and a rinsing cup to assist their master in his morning routine.
Su Yan felt awkward. Two men sharing a bed for the night—wouldn’t they get the wrong idea? But he quickly realized that the maids didn’t show any reaction. Their movements were practiced and light, with one of them deftly styling his hair into a proper topknot and placing his black gauze cap on his head without pulling a single strand.
This was daily life in a wealthy household of the past: less advanced technology, more manpower. With so many employees, they even boosted societal employment. Maybe it was time for him, a fourth-rank official, to consider hiring more staff to improve his quality of life. After all, he wasn’t aspiring to live like Hai Rui. If anything, he was aiming to emulate Zhang Juzheng.
After washing up, Su Yan was eager to avoid being cornered by Shen Qi again for breakfast and hurried to the outer room for a simple meal before taking his leave.
Shen Qi didn’t stop him but remarked, “Cleansing the Embroidered Uniform Guard won’t be easy. If you run into difficulties, feel free to come to me. Once I’m up and about, I’ll join you at the Northern Surveillance Bureau to assist.”
Su Yan reassured him, “Don’t worry, I can handle it. You just focus on recovering at home and strategizing like a true military advisor.”
Shen Qi chuckled. “Me, a strategist? I’ve barely read the Four Books and Five Classics.”
Su Yan quipped, “And yet, with all your cunning, you could pass as a righteous hero!”
Shen Qi stifled his laughter, wincing from the pain in his wound. Realizing he had dawdled too long, Su Yan hurriedly excused himself. By now, it was nearly noon.
As Su Yan stepped onto the footrest of his carriage at Shen Manor’s gates, an unexpected visitor stopped him.
An elderly man, his white beard long and flowing, accompanied by a young servant, called out, “Please wait, sir. May I ask, are you Lord Su of the Left Shaoqing of the Dali Temple?”
Noticing the elder’s sharp, bright eyes and dignified aura, Su Yan retracted his step and greeted him respectfully, “I am. What can I do for you, elder?”
“Oh, no, no.” The old man quickly returned the bow. “You are an official, while I am a commoner. It is not right for a man of status to bow to a mere civilian.”
Su Yan replied humbly, “His Majesty promotes filial piety and respect for elders, hosting banquets for the aged annually. I am still a young man; showing respect to a senior is only right.”
The old man stroked his beard and smiled. “Lately, I’ve heard much praise for Lord Su—his wisdom, courage, and strong sense of justice, despite his youth. Now that I see you in person, the rumors ring true!”
Su Yan blushed at the compliment and quickly redirected the conversation, asking what had brought him here.
The elder introduced himself, “I am Chen Shiyu, a surgeon. Recently, I have been treating Lord Commander Shen for his injuries.”
The name sparked a vague familiarity in Su Yan’s mind. It seemed tied to some renowned medical figure, though he couldn’t quite place it. Pondering over the word “surgeon”—a term that sounded rather modern—his thoughts clicked. He exclaimed, “Are you the esteemed Teacher Yingxu, author of The Fundamental Principles of Surgery?”
This was a true luminary!
Chen Shiyu, a renowned surgeon who had delved deeply into the field since childhood, authored a masterpiece hailed as the pinnacle of surgical knowledge before the Ming Dynasty.
Surprised and gratified that Su Yan recognized him, the elder explained his purpose.
