“Little Master, isn’t this… not quite proper?” Fu Bao hesitantly muttered.
The crown prince, dressed in casual clothes, shook the large burlap sack in his hands, his expression sinister. “Proper or not, it’s up to me to decide!”
He waved his hand, and seven or eight young eunuchs from the Eastern Palace crowded around. The crown prince instructed two of them to hold open the sack’s mouth and explained, “Like this—hold it open on both sides, sneak up quietly from behind, then, when the time’s right, pull it over his head in one swift motion. Drag him down, throw him over your shoulder, and run. Got it?”
“Got it!” the boys chorused.
The crown prince nodded in satisfaction, snapping the sack’s edge. “If I don’t give him a proper lesson, he’ll really think I’m a pushover.”
“But, Little Master…” Fu Bao started to protest again, only to be silenced by a sharp glare from the crown prince. He reluctantly closed his mouth.
The group crouched in a corner of the alley near Su Yan’s house in Huanghua Lane, their eyes fixed on the gates of the Su residence.
It was the 13th of June. Four or five days had passed since the latest instance of Su Yan standing him up, yet the crown prince’s frustration had not abated. He was determined to teach Su Yan a deep and unforgettable lesson, so that he would never again dare to underestimate him.
Fu Bao’s suggestions of making Su Yan stand as punishment or docking his salary had been flatly rejected by the crown prince. He had brainstormed a few ideas of his own but dismissed them as lacking flair. Then, he recalled a tale he had once overheard in the streets—a notorious gang would sneak up on their victims, drug them from behind, and shove them into burlap sacks to carry them away. By the time the victims regained consciousness, they would be far from home, sold into servitude or worse, with no recourse.
The crown prince clapped his hands in delight at the thought. “Perfect! I’ll bag him, lock him in a dark room, and scare him senseless. I’ll even disguise my voice and interrogate him—ask him where his loyalties to the Eastern Palace lie. Oh, and demand to know who he’d save first if both the emperor and I fell into a river…”
The more Zhu Helin thought about it, the more excited he became. Just then, the gates of the Su residence creaked open, and Su Yan emerged, dressed in a robe of moss-green patterned with primrose-yellow accents.
A servant brought over a horse. Su Yan gave a few instructions, then mounted the horse and rode off alone.
The crown prince froze. It wasn’t a day off, so wasn’t Su Yan supposed to be taking a carriage to the Dali Temple for his morning duties?
One of the eunuchs beside him whispered, “Little Master, what do we do? Should we still use the sack?”
Snapping back to reality, the crown prince barked, “Prepare the horses! Follow him!”
***
The night before, on the 12th of June, Su Yan had received a handwritten letter from Yu Wang. The letter stated that the emperor had entrusted him with the task of establishing a new academy and that he was currently scouting locations in the capital for the proposed “Heavenly Works Academy.” Hearing that the shallow slopes of the western city outskirts seemed suitable, he invited Su Yan to join him the next day for an on-site inspection.
Su Yan’s relationship with Yu Wang had grown somewhat complicated.
Before the Dragon Boat Festival, Su Yan had been thoroughly repulsed by Yu Wang’s lascivious behavior. He despised Yu Wang for using his position to exert coercive pressure and, though bound by decorum, avoided him as much as possible, seething inwardly.
After the Small Southern Courtyard incident, however, Su Yan found himself indebted to Yu Wang for saving his life. Yu Wang’s sincere apology and display of competence—both in scholarship and martial skill—left a better impression on Su Yan. Gradually, he even began to hope, with a sense of reluctant frustration, that Yu Wang might reform himself and live a life worthy of his talents.
Now that the Yu Wang had indeed begun to focus on legitimate pursuits, Su Yan felt obliged to assist him, both out of gratitude and in compliance with the emperor’s orders. Yet, one hurdle remained insurmountable: Yu Wang’s inappropriate feelings for him had not abated.
My heart is as clear as the bright moon, yet the moon reflects only in murky ditches. I wish to be friends, but you only desire my… Su Yan cut the thought short, mentally cursing. A string of profanity stampeded through his mind like a herd of wild llamas galloping across a desolate steppe, shaking his very brain.
When Yu Wang’s messenger arrived, Su Yan politely replied, “I’m scheduled to report for duty at the Dali Temple tomorrow and cannot take leave. Please convey my apologies to His Highness.”
The messenger was quick to counter, “His Highness has already taken care of that. He’s informed your superior at the Dali Temple, who has no objections. Since this is a direct imperial mandate requiring your assistance, your absence from work has been approved. Your superior even mentioned that if Wangye’s tasks require extensive time, you may forego reporting for several days.”
Su Yan was rendered speechless by his boss, Lord Guan Pan. Most superiors guarded their subordinates jealously, demanding daily reports and micromanaging every detail. Yet Guan Pan had no objections to Su Yan being repeatedly reassigned, leaving him to wonder whether the man was simply too compliant or deeply uninterested in Su Yan altogether.
With no excuses left, Su Yan reluctantly agreed. “Very well. I’ll meet His Highness at the western slopes tomorrow at the hour of Chen.”
The messenger added, “Wangye has arranged for a carriage to pick you up.”
“There’s no need. I have my own carriage,” Su Yan declined, wary that Yu Wang might join him en route. He resolved to avoid any confined spaces where they might be alone, minimizing opportunities for impropriety.
Su Yan had planned to ask Wu Ming to drive him and act as a bodyguard, just in case Yu Wang overstepped his bounds. But the next morning, Wu Ming was nowhere to be found, leaving behind only a letter.
Su Yan opened it to find two lines written in a hasty hand: ‘Though a thousand men stand in my way, I will press on… Your great kindness, I will repay in my next life.’
Between the two lines was a sentence that had been heavily blacked out with ink.
The hurried strokes conveyed a sense of finality, and the tone of the letter filled Su Yan with a foreboding chill. Holding the paper up to the light, he tried in vain to discern the words beneath the ink. He could only imagine how Wu Ming, after pouring his heart into the letter, had hesitated at the last moment and blotted out one line in uncertainty.
But more pressing than the mystery of the redacted words was the question of Wu Ming’s whereabouts.
Su Yan knew the man was consumed by vengeance, determined to kill Fengan Marquis at any cost. The phrase “though a thousand men” suggested that Wu Ming was prepared for the worst—and aware of the consequences.
“Is this a suicide mission?” Su Yan murmured, clutching the letter with a deep sigh. He could feel the unyielding resolve emanating from the page and couldn’t help but worry that Wu Ming’s stubbornness and recklessness might lead to his demise.
It’s not worth it! Su Yan inwardly cursed. That decrepit scoundrel isn’t worth trading your life for—not by a long shot! Stupid! Too stupid!
He cursed while regretting: If he had known it would come to this, he should have used gratitude as leverage and forced Wu Ming to swear an oath not to act until Wei Jun was toppled. Although Wu Ming was a killer, he had a sense of chivalry—someone like that would keep their word, even if it meant harboring resentment. That would still be better than dying for revenge.
But after much consideration, it was too late. Unless he could find Wu Ming before he acted, Su Yan was out of options. For now, he summoned Su Xiaobei and instructed him to scout around Fengan Marquis’s residence at dawn the next day to see if anything unusual was happening.
At daybreak the following day, Su Xiaobei set off. Meanwhile, Xiaojing prepared Su Yan’s clothes and horse, seeing him off at the gate.
Su Yan instructed Xiao Jing, “If Wu Ming returns, you must find a way to keep him at the residence, no matter what. Tell him it’s my order. If he doesn’t listen, tell him I will sever all ties with him from now on—no friendship, no relationship.”
Then he mounted his horse and rode swiftly toward the western outskirts of the city.
***
To the west of the outer city, near the capital’s suburbs, stood a modest mountain called Lingguang Mountain. The dense forest at its foot gave way to gentle slopes, divided in two by a clear stream.
The streamside slope was lush with green grass dotted with wildflowers, known as “Shallow Grass Slope” for the phrase: “Shallow grass barely hides the horse’s hoof.”
Yu Wang dismounted and strolled alongside Su Yan, enjoying the spring outing. The soft grass beneath their feet, the babbling water nearby, and the refreshing summer morning breeze created an intoxicating sense of tranquility.
Su Yan climbed onto a towering boulder and gazed around. “The three mountains encircle like an embrace, and the water loops around like a belt. This is a good spot, indeed ideal for building an academy.”
Yu Wang replied, “There’s only one issue—the area around this slope is too small. If we limit the foundation to just this area, the schoolyard and buildings will feel cramped. Expanding to the east and west would require cutting down the forest and filling in the stream. I’d hate to lose this bit of wilderness and would rather preserve it.”
Su Yan nodded in agreement. “Wangye has refined tastes—you’re not one to destroy beauty for the sake of practicality.”
Yu Wang gave him a playful glance. “Not only would I never destroy beauty, but I also deeply cherish it. What does Qinghe think?”
Su Yan, wary of Yu Wang’s flirtatious tone, feigned ignorance and deflected. “I think that since Wangye isn’t anything*, we should see if there’s space to the north or south.”
* literally translated = east and west; so pun comment; more referring to him not wanting to expand east and west
Yu Wang paused, surprised.
Su Yan laughed. “Oh, pardon me. That was a slip of the tongue. I didn’t mean ‘Your Highness isn’t anything’ but rather, since Your Highness won’t alter the east or west, let’s consider the north and south.”
Even after the clarification, Yu Wang still felt he had been insulted.
With his sharp tongue, Su Yan was clearly no pushover. Yu Wang found himself wondering—how much fire would this sharp-tongued man show in bed? Would he curse and shout, or moan and sigh? Smiling faintly, he entertained a few vivid thoughts but casually said, “The southern pebble shore could be filled, but it would still be insufficient. To the north is Lingguang Temple. If it could be demolished, there would be plenty of room.”
“Demolish a temple?” Su Yan was startled. “Isn’t Lingguang Temple rather famous? Doesn’t its abbot, Dharma Master Ji Yao, frequently visit the palace?”
Yu Wang, a warrior hardened by rivers of blood, never believed in gods or spirits—only in the strength of armies. He replied, “The capital’s population is vast. A century ago, they had to expand the outer city to accommodate the people. Now, even the outer city is crowded, while Daoist and Buddhist temples are everywhere. Monks and priests don’t produce anything but occupy prime farmland, which has caused considerable resentment among the people. What’s one Lingguang Temple? It’d be better if all monks returned to secular life and contributed to the nation.”
Su Yan couldn’t help but laugh at the contrast between the Empress Dowager’s devoutness and her son’s staunch atheism.
Yu Wang called out to him, “Seen enough? Come down. Let’s visit Lingguang Temple.”
Climbing up was easy, but getting down proved trickier. Su Yan looked around for a safer route. Yu Wang spread his arms toward him and said, “Jump down; I’ll catch you.”
Su Yan shook his head and cautiously shifted downward.
Yu Wang mischievously flicked a small stone at Su Yan’s boot, hitting his ankle bone. Su Yan yelped in pain and lost his balance, falling straight into Yu Wang’s arms.
Yu Wang held him tightly, refusing to let go. Seizing the opportunity, he nuzzled Su Yan’s neck and playfully licked and kissed the skin around his throat, leaving Su Yan weak-kneed.
Having experienced Yu Wang’s audacious advances before, Su Yan braced himself against the onslaught of his pheromonal charm, fearing he might succumb like prey to a predator. He shoved at Yu Wang’s chest and kicked his shin, shouting, “Let go! If you don’t, I swear I’ll bash your head in with a brick! D*mn it, B*stard Zhu Xu, I’m warning you—if you keep this up, not only will we cease being friends, but I’ll curse you every time I see you—even in court, in front of the emperor!”
Unfazed, Yu Wang pressed his cheek to Su Yan’s, nuzzling affectionately. “Insulting the Empress Dowager again? Careful, or you’ll face death by lingchi.”
Su Yan fumed. “Fine! Let’s go to the Empress Dowager and see if she approves of her son molesting scholars and forcing himself on officials!”
“You exaggerate,” Yu Wang teased. “I only show affection to you. I’ve never touched another scholar or official. And besides, mutual affection hardly counts as coercion—consensual passion, perhaps.”
“Passion my ass! You shameless b*stard!” Su Yan was seething, on the verge of collapse.
Seeing he had pushed Su Yan far enough, Yu Wang released him, switching to a gentler approach. Taking his wrist firmly, he said, “I was only teasing you. Don’t take it to heart. Let’s go visit Lingguang Temple.”
Still fuming, Su Yan tried to pull his hand free, but Yu Wang’s grip was unrelenting. Resigned, he let himself be led down the slope.
Yu Wang deliberately chose the roughest path, ensuring Su Yan stumbled frequently. Each time, he would catch him, using it as an excuse to grope or pinch him. Feigning concern, he’d say, “Careful now. These wild paths are tricky. How about I carry you?”
Su Yan, unable to fight back or stop the harassment, felt utterly helpless, tormented by Yu Wang’s shameless antics.
This man is practically a calamity sent by the heavens to test me! Can a celestial Guanyin please descend and point at his nose, shouting, “Wretched beast, reveal your true form!”? Su Yan was so infuriated that he let out a sarcastic laugh, sneering, “Zhu Xu Jing.”
Yu Wang paused mid-step, turned to face him, and looked at him with an expression as inscrutable as a flickering firefly in the deep night or the unfathomable thoughts of a ruler.
“Do you think I have such a good temper and soft heart that I don’t hold grudges? That no matter how much you mess with me—even if I’m enraged to the point of spitting blood—you could simply grant me a favor later, and I’d erase all past offenses?”
Yu Wang said nothing, continuing to watch him intently.
Su Yan’s laughter turned cold. “If my past tolerance gave you that impression, it’s only because you haven’t crossed my bottom line, and I still harbor some goodwill toward you. But push me further, and when that goodwill is spent, even a mere scholar’s wrath will spill blood three feet high. Though I am a weak scholar and couldn’t harm you even with all my strength, I have plenty of ways to drag us both down. Would you like to see for yourself?”
Yu Wang let out a long sigh, released his grip, and said sincerely, “No, I wouldn’t.”
Su Yan: “…”
Su Yan: “Then why are you still provoking me?!”
“This isn’t provocation; it’s sincerity.”
Su Yan rubbed his forehead in frustration. “I don’t want your sincerity! Take it all back and give it to someone else!”
Yu Wang’s face darkened, and he asked in a low voice, “If you don’t want my sincerity, whose do you want?”
“No one’s! I just want to be a carefree bachelor. Is that too much to ask?!”
Yu Wang let out a mocking snort. “More like you don’t want to be a bachelor but to be taken by one. That’s what would truly make you happy.”
“What did you just say?!” Su Yan glared at him, his brows raised. “Say that again clearly—don’t speak in riddles!”
Yu Wang glowered at him for a moment, then suddenly gave a faint smile and said, “Nothing. It was my fault earlier; I apologize. I’ll learn from my royal brother’s restraint and discipline and keep my passions in check from now on.”
Su Yan, knowing that his apologies were empty as air and that his behavior would remain unchanged, didn’t bother to argue. However, he couldn’t help but sense something peculiar and layered in Yu Wang’s words. Too tired to spar further, he turned on his heel and walked off with a huff.
Yu Wang followed a short distance behind, his expression returning to normal as though their earlier spat had never occurred.
The two of them walked one behind the other, ascending the dozens of stone steps amid the bustling stream of worshippers entering Lingguang Temple.
