In the royal residence at Yuling, Murong Jin sat quietly, watching Xue Liulan paint. He moved with a serene focus, one hand behind his back, the dark silk of his hair swaying with each stroke. She had seen him play the fool in court and brawl in the streets. But in this stillness, he was far more dangerous.
Suddenly, she rose and went to the window. Just as she pushed it open, a pigeon landed on her hand. She took the tube from its leg, released the bird, and closed the window.
Xue Liulan's hand paused. "A message from Xing?"
She whipped her head around, her eyebrows shot up.
He looked back down at his work. "The Third Young Master of the Huaying Yang family. A good cover."
"You knew about Xing?" She walked to his desk, staring. "I've truly underestimated you."
"Have you?" He stopped painting, added a few more strokes, then set down his brush. "Or perhaps you simply never took the time to understand me."
She thought for a moment, then smiled. "True enough."
She unrolled the note. As she read, her gaze lifted, fixing on him once again.
"You borrowed a hundred thousand taels from the Sixth Prince to send to the Seventh for disaster relief? So that's why you went to see him."
"With the ten thousand from the Yangs, it should be enough for him to settle things and return to the capital," he said. He picked up his own painting. "What do you think?"
She moved to his side. The scroll depicted a landscape of peach blossoms, and among them, a woman in a pink dress leaning over a stream. It was only a back, but the detail was exquisite.
"'A flowing cup in a lonely valley.' It has a certain transcendent quality," she said.
"The painting, or the person?" he asked, his arm circling her waist. He rested his cheek against her hair.
She turned to look at him. "The painting, of course."
"I think it's the person." He leaned his head, his eyes overflowing with a playful tenderness. "The Yang family was one of my pieces. I knew from the beginning that Xing had been adopted into their household."
"The Huaying Yang family?" She was stunned. They were merchants who had famously avoided politics.
"The very same," he said with a proud smile, leading her to a small couch.
"But I heard they never dealt with officials."
"They do business with the palace. Their fear of politics is both their shield and their fatal flaw."
"How so?"
"The items they send as tribute—if anything were to go wrong, wouldn't a few lives be forfeit?" he asked, stretching out with a grin.
She thought for a moment, then it hit her. "So you set a trap, then saved them. That gave you leverage."
"As fate would have it, a batch of their rouge was faulty, and it ended up in my mother's hands." At the mention of the Empress Murong, his tone faded. "So she took a token from the family, to be kept as a source of power."
"The Empress Murong?" A wave of admiration washed over her. The legendary woman, to have had such foresight…
"It was a contingency for my eldest brother. I never thought it would be needed." He sighed.
"Are you planning to use their business to raise funds for an army?" she asked, her voice low.
The smile on his face faded. "A bloodless victory is always best," he said quietly. "But if not, it's better to be prepared."
"And you still used them to help Xue Feiyan? Aren't you afraid he'll uncover your network?"
"It was done in our sixth brother's name. The suspicion won't fall on me." He sat up. "Do you really think your husband is the kind of bastard who would let the people suffer for his own gain?"
The light danced in her eyes. "I don't know. I still remember Sushen."
"Holding a grudge?" He pulled her into his arms, his warm breath tickling her ear.
She pushed at him, laughing. "Who's holding a grudge?"
"I know you still think Guo Ren shouldn't have been sent," he said, letting her go and resting her head on his shoulder.
"You have your plans. I never tried to understand you before. I can't say I do now, but I trust your judgment." She rested her hand on his arm.
"Now that is the duty of a wife," he said, caressing her cheek. "Guo Ren's pride will lead him to a battlefield he cannot control."
"Why?" She sat up. "Are you some kind of immortal?"
"You grew up on the frontier. When you size up an enemy, what do you look for?"
"How he treats his men. His past. Those things influence strategy."
"Exactly. Guo Ren is known for being arrogant and headstrong. He is doomed."
"And you're not afraid the Yanyun will break through?" Her hand tightened.
He patted her hand. "Siyou has already informed Gongzi Moran of Zhao to be ready. If Sushen is in trouble, Zhao will send reinforcements."
"You mean Gongzi Lin Moran of Zhao?" She thought for a moment. "I've heard my father mention him. A prodigy." She smiled. "Xue Liulan, so your recommendation of Guo Ren was not made with good intentions."
"Oh?"
"You couldn't touch him in Jindu. But now, he'll die on the battlefield. Guo Shangzhong loses a key piece, and you are absolved of blame." She gave a mock salute. "Such a scheme. I'm impressed."
"Don't start," he said, taking her hand. "So what do you think now? Your husband isn't completely useless?"
She pretended to think. "It's hard to say."
"Hm?"
"When Guo Ren dies, there will be another fight at court over his replacement."
"And the only candidates will be Zuo Xunxiao, or someone from your family." He already knew what she was thinking. "Getting bored of Yuling?"
"If Zuo Xunxiao goes, it will only strengthen Xue Feiyan," she said, her expression serious.
"We'll deal with that when the time comes. Perhaps they'll send troops from Wuchuan." He squeezed her hand. He wouldn't let her face a battlefield again.
She knew what he was thinking, and a warm smile spread across her face.
"By the way," she said, "did you intentionally have the Yangs send Xing to Yan Town?"
"What do you mean?"
"If you truly wanted to hide it, the Yangs are careful enough to have done so." She held up the note.
His gaze flickered to the light on the window, then back to her. "Do you remember," he said in a low voice, "when I asked if you would take me into your heart if I were honest with you?"
"Yes," she nodded. She had said no then. When had that changed?
"I want you to take me into your heart," he said, a self-mocking smile on his face.
She looked at their joined hands. "I already have," she said softly. "It's just that neither of us knew it."
Outside, the chill wind carried the faint, distant echo of drums.