In the sixth and seventh months, the great houses of Jindu held their summer banquets.
When Xue Feiyan and Deng Qinyu arrived at the Prime Minister's garden, it was already bustling. Even in the shade, the summer air was thick, sweet with the scent of tea and hidden deceit. Scholars admired flowers; poets composed verses. In a distant pavilion, young ladies whispered behind silk fans, their gazes occasionally landing on a certain gentleman, a blush rising on their cheeks.
"Grandfather is waiting in the Qingwei Pavilion," Deng Qinyu said, leading him by the arm.
"Seventh Prince." The ladies in the pavilion curtsied.
"Please," he said with a nod. He turned to Deng Qinyu. "I'll go see your grandfather. I'll be back."
"Mm." She watched him go, the whispers buzzing in her ear.
"He is so good to Lady Deng."
"I know. I heard the Empress has asked for their marriage to be decreed."
"A perfect match."
The voices faded. He slowed his pace, his gaze on the flowers that lined the path.
I should have Ling Yan come out more often, he thought. She is in the prime of her life. A rare tenderness touched his eyes.
"This old minister greets the Seventh Prince." Deng Qinyao had come out to meet him.
"Lord Deng, please." Xue Feiyan returned the salute.
They entered the Qingwei Pavilion and sat. The pavilion was in a quiet corner, surrounded by bamboo. It had windows on all four sides, open to the breeze. It was cool, and impossible to eavesdrop on.
"Qinyu made this for you," the Prime Minister said with a smile.
Xue Feiyan lifted the delicate cup and inhaled. "Excellent tea."
"This old man has never cared for strong tea. The light flavor suits me."
Xue Feiyan just smiled. "What was it you wished to discuss?"
"Has the Prince heard the news of the victory at Sushen?"
"I have heard some talk." So it's about this.
"Oh?" Deng Qinyao stroked his beard. "And does the Prince have a strategy?"
Xue Feiyan took a sip of tea. "Zuo Xunxiao won a great victory. Though he didn't eliminate Murong Jin as planned, he still returns with the highest honors. Not a complete loss."
"But I heard it was Murong Jin who assassinated the Yanyun leader," Deng Qinyao said, his brow furrowed. "When they return, the Murong family's prestige will be even greater."
"Of no concern." Xue Feiyan's smile was serene. "Some things are not decided until the very end."
"The Prince has a plan?" The old man's eyes were sharp as a hawk's.
"A plan? Not quite. But since I helped her, she will have to pay a price. Not now—but soon." He toyed with his cup, a meaningful smile on his lips.
The silhouette of Jindu was just visible in the dawn light. After half a month, they were home. Murong Jin glanced at Zuo Xunxiao, riding beside her.
It was just like the last time. But then, she had been on her way to be named a lord. Now, a year later, everything had changed.
"We're here," Zuo Xunxiao said.
"Yes." A polite, impeccably distant smile was fixed on her face.
"I remember the last time we rode like this," he said, a nostalgic look in his eyes.
"Kind of you to remember, Commander," she smiled. "I must go give the order to make camp. Excuse me." With a kick of her heels, she was gone, leaving him alone.
Before the throne, they knelt. "Long live the Emperor."
"Rise," the Emperor said. "You have crushed the Yanyun. Your merit is great."
They bowed their heads.
"You have had a long journey. Go and rest. I will hold a ceremony to reward you."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
Murong Jin let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She left the hall, took the reins of her horse, and galloped toward the Fifth Prince's residence, not noticing the figure in the shadows, whose cold, mocking gaze followed her.
The residence was deserted. She reined in her horse, a flicker of doubt in her mind.
Little Dingzi and Ning Bi were waiting at the gate, their heads bowed.
"Where is Xue Liulan?" she asked, her eyes fixed on Little Dingzi.
"Your Highness, perhaps you should come inside," Ning Bi said in a low voice.
Murong Jin looked at her, at her red, swollen eyes, and her heart sank.
She sat in the main hall, still in her armor. They stood before her, silent.
"Speak."
"Your Highness, the master… was taken by the Tiger and Horse Army. He's in the heavenly prison," Little Dingzi said, his voice thick with tears. They both dropped to their knees. "He said that when you returned, you must find a way to see him."
"What did you say?" She shot to her feet. "Why?"
"They found evidence linking him to the assassinations," Ning Bi sobbed. "The Emperor was furious. He had him taken to the palace, and then… thrown into the heavenly prison to await trial."
For one wild second, she wanted to overturn the table, to scream. Then she forced herself to breathe, the general taking over. She sank back into her chair, her teeth digging into her lower lip. How?
"Who investigated?"
"The new Minister of Justice, Li Yan."
Li Yan? "The former Vice Minister of War?"
"Yes."
"I see. Get up. Little Dingzi, arrange for me to get into the prison. Ning Bi," she said, her gaze shifting to the weeping maid, "now is not the time for tears."
"I… I know." Ning Bi forced back her sobs. "Your orders, Your Highness?"
"Go to the Yichun Courtyard. Tell Die Man I want to see her, after noon."
"See Lady Die Man?"
"Brothels are the best places for information. I just want to ask her some questions. Go with He Chengjian, in disguise. Be careful."
"Yes."
Murong Jin sat alone, her finger tapping her forehead. Back for less than a day, and already this. Xue Feiyan, so this is how you repay your loss on the battlefield.
A low rustle brushed the courtyard wall—no footsteps, only air shifting.
"If you're tired, you should rest." A familiar voice. She looked up. Liu was standing before her.
"Liu?" A wave of relief washed over her. "I told you to go back to Wuchuan. What are you doing here?"
"How could the General rest easy, leaving you here alone?" he smiled. "He sent Yi and me back to help as soon as he heard of your victory."
In her father's eyes, the court was a thousand times more dangerous than any battlefield.
"Having you both here is a great comfort," she said.
"Don't worry. No one saw me."
"Good. This is not a place to talk. Follow me." She turned, and with a whisper of wind, he was gone.
She stopped in the back garden pavilion. "Come out."
He appeared behind her. "Is the residence not entirely trustworthy?"
"It's better to be careful. If I've learned one thing, it's that in Jindu, every man wears a mask." She sighed. "Tell me, what have you heard?"