THE RAIN WAS LIGHT, but the fine drizzle mingled with the dust on the wind and produced an uncomfortable stickiness. Cui Buqu's hair and clothes were damp, yet the gusting night wind only blew them halfway dry before he was soaked again. He'd rather have been thoroughly drenched by a torrential downpour—it would be better than the clammy feeling of damp hair and layers of clothing clinging together, heavy as iron, threatening to crush his spine and neck.
The ground was an amalgam of crushed stone and mud that made it uncomfortable to lie down. Though the pain in his shoulder had dulled from excruciating agony to a persistent ache, Cui Buqu still couldn't use one of his arms and had to rely solely on one elbow to try to lift himself. Every breath was greeted not by the fresh scent of rain mingling with damp earth or the sweet aroma of spilled wine from the tavern, but by the metallic tang of blood.
His burdened and broken body was weighed down by injuries yet to heal and freshly acquired wounds. He felt more than just pain coursing through his limbs. His old injuries had been aggravated and were screaming shrilly, as if invisible hands were dismantling him with dull knives.
But all his agonies paled in comparison to the sensation on his lips. Cui Buqu opened his eyes slightly and—momentarily—forgot to resist.
Why would Feng Xiao do such a thing at a time like this? They were seriously injured, and they weren't alone. Guan Shanhai was still out cold, but two pairs of eyes bored into them. Feng Xiao's two copies wore vacant expressions completely uncharacteristic of the man they were impersonating, frozen in place like twin pieces of wood.
When Cui Buqu caught sight of them from the corner of his eye, his injured bones ached even more.
But Feng Xiao paid them no heed, acting as if no one else was there. He pressed his lips harder against Cui Buqu's, displeased with his distraction. He wasn't content to stop after a taste. He insisted on banging down the door and sampling everything within the master's house before he would be satisfied.
Cui Buqu's uninjured hand found Feng Xiao's shoulder and shoved. He was clearly not playing coy, but unfortunately, the seriously injured Feng Xiao remained as motionless as a firmly planted boulder. He tightened his grip on Cui Buqu's chin, drawing a faint moan of discomfort from the man beneath him.
Maybe, thought Cui Buqu, he should pretend to be unconscious. It was his usual tactic, after all.
Feng Xiao appeared to have seen through his plan. He threatened in a voice so low only Cui Buqu could hear it, "If you pretend to pass out, I swear I'll strip you naked in front of them."
Cui Buqu said nothing. He had no doubt Feng-er was capable of doing as he said, but even so, he refused to lose.
As he hesitated, Feng Xiao brazenly claimed his mouth, only leisurely drawing back when Cui Buqu's breathing became disordered and his cheeks flushed. Even then, the effects of Feng Xiao's scorching breath lingered. His usually cold and ashy lips were now vibrant red and swollen from the kiss. The Zuoyue chief had been forced to tilt his head to meet Feng Xiao's assault, and the corners of his eyes had reddened, though whether from the rain or their heated breaths it was impossible to say—he was seemingly angry, yet not truly so. Feng Xiao was close enough to see his expression clearly, and his heart swelled with pride knowing that others might not notice such details, but he did. Even the frustration of fighting Xiao Lü to a draw and watching him leave so calmly had faded significantly.
Ming Yue's jaw dropped; he didn't even notice the rain falling. He wondered if his injuries were more severe than he'd realized, resulting in qi deviation-induced hallucinations. Hastily, Ming Yue averted his gaze from the two entwined figures. Fighting through the pain, he struggled to turn his head to look at Qin Miaoyu, intending to call her over to help him. But Qin Miaoyu was even more stupefied than he was: She stared wide-eyed, unable to tear her gaze away.
Suspicious, Ming Yue looked back to find that Feng Xiao and Cui Buqu had already broken apart. Feng-er coughed a few times, then turned his head and spat out a mouthful of black blood before grabbing Cui Buqu's arm to help him up from the ground.
They looked completely normal. So it really had been a hallucination. Ming Yue breathed a sigh of relief.
Qin Miaoyu leaned over and whispered, "So the Deputy Chief and Chief Cui are in that kind of relationship?"
"What kind of relationship?" Ming Yue asked in confusion. When he recalled what he'd just seen, all the hair on his body stood on end. His internal injuries throbbed anew.
"They're, you know—cut-sleeves." Qin Miaoyu's voice was very low. She was the least severely injured of them all. After the tavern, she hadn't participated in any of the subsequent battles. Now that she'd rested and recovered somewhat, she was the only one with the energy to follow up on these details.
Before Ming Yue could answer, Feng Xiao glanced over. His murderous aura still clung to him, and he'd yet to return to his playful, licentious self. Qin Miaoyu immediately fell silent. Not until he turned back around did she exhale and ask Ming Yue in a low voice, "Third Chief, will we still be fighting the Zuoyue Bureau for credit after this?"
Ming Yue's head spun, and his stomach churned as his internal injuries flared. He yearned to vomit up another mouthful of gore. Feng-er had always been brazen and dismissive of etiquette, but Ming Yue never thought he'd be this audacious.
You could have chosen anyone on earth, yet you had to fall for the chief of the Zuoyue Bureau.
Ming Yue had heard Cui Buqu was a prickly character, but this wasn't the source of his headache. It was the Zuoyue Bureau behind him, and the prospect of what the empress would think once she found out. Although the emperor and empress were themselves deeply in love, no emperor would be pleased to see his subordinates pairing off. It defeated the purpose of all the checks and balances he'd put in place.
This matter must remain a strict secret. Ming Yue, diligent and loyal as he was, had already begun contemplating their next step, his injury hurting more with every minute.
It was no ordinary internal injury. His last clash with Xiao Lü had exhausted all remnants of Ming Yue's qi, resulting in severe damage to his meridians and organs. Had Xiao Lü not been weakened from his battle with Feng Xiao, Ming Yue would surely have lost his life.
"Third Chief?" Qin Miaoyu had no idea what Ming Yue was thinking, only that he was staring vacantly ahead as if possessed by an evil spirit.
"No, I'm too tired. I need a nap before I deal with this," Ming Yue murmured. He closed his eyes and lay right back down in the muddy puddle, refusing to move.
Qin Miaoyu was bewildered. Should she help her superior up, or go back alone? She was tired too. If she helped Ming Yue walk the whole way back… But then again, if she returned without him, she would definitely face a reprimand.
She looked around and found a dry spot under the eaves to lie down, feeling perfectly at ease as she closed her eyes. She was also injured; she let herself lapse into unconsciousness.
Cui Buqu had gotten to his feet. Feng Xiao was supporting one of his arms, but in truth, he was the one bearing most of Feng Xiao's weight. If he didn't, Feng Xiao probably wouldn't make it back.
"Wasn't Deputy Chief Feng awfully majestic a moment ago?" Cui Buqu sneered, unsympathetic. "Why are you on death's door now?"
Feng Xiao sighed. "They say dying under peonies will make you an elegant ghost. But if I really die here, won't I waste all that fine sentiment about me being worth it?"
"If you die, I'll hang bright red lanterns at the Zuoyue Bureau for two weeks," Cui Buqu replied. "I'll set off firecrackers three times a day, and throw the most lavish celebration I can afford."
"Ququ, it's charming when a woman speaks insincerely, but when a man does, it's pretentious. You know I would never compare you to the mediocre masses, but is it really so difficult for you to admit even once that you don't want me to die?"
"Since you can run your mouth, you should be fine to walk."
Before Cui Buqu finished speaking, he let Feng Xiao go, completely merciless. Feng Xiao had used all his strength to speak and was caught off guard. He failed to catch himself and fell to the ground, splattering mud all over himself.
His internal organs burned like they were on fire. The moment his focus turned to his injuries, he couldn't utter so much as a word. Deputy Chief Feng, ever fastidious, a man who would change his clothes for even a tiny speck of dirt, had never been so wretched in his life.
As he slowly exhaled, he vaguely heard Cui Buqu's footsteps fading into the distance.
It seemed he really was angry.
But…this weather was freezing. Why hadn't Feng Xiao put on an extra layer before coming out? Just because he'd felt fine at the time? If he had, his teeth wouldn't be chattering now as the autumn winds and cold rain battered him.
Still, when he considered Xiao Lü likely wasn't faring any better, his heart was at peace. Even the disappointment of Cui Buqu abandoning him wasn't as pronounced.
The footsteps sounded again.
One step heavy, one step light, as if the person was injured on one side, making their movements unbalanced.
Feng Xiao's thoughts stuttered to a halt, and he forced his eyes open. Before he could get a clear look, a cloak stinking of blood fell over him. It was very thick, but half soaked. Feng Xiao frowned as a bamboo cane was stuffed into his right hand. Where in heaven's name had Cui Buqu found it?
"Whose cloak is this?" His voice was weak, but it didn't hide his distaste.
"The young leader of the Jinhuan Guild's," Cui Buqu said coolly. "You'd better support yourself a little. My shoulder's broken."
"I don't want a dead man's cloak." Feng Xiao's voice was still scornful, but now it held a hint of playful petulance.
Cui Buqu coughed a few times. As Feng Xiao struggled to sit up, Cui Buqu grabbed one of his arms and helped him. Pain shot through his own broken bones, but though he stiffened momentarily, he didn't make a sound.
Yet Feng Xiao seemed to notice. He drew a breath and steadied himself with the bamboo cane, relieving some of the weight on Cui Buqu. Even then, his voice dripped disdain. "Exchange cloaks with me. I'll wear yours."
Cui Buqu sneered. "Not a chance."
The two of them struggled on, supporting each other as they awkwardly made their way back. Their pace was slow, for they had to spare some of their strength to bicker. Neither was willing to concede.
"Cui Buqu, with your sharp tongue and plain looks, if you keep this up, you're sure to die alone."
"Your lordship needn't feel overly concerned."
"How about I show some mercy and offer myself up as a living sacrifice? At least then you won't bring calamity upon others."
"Is Leng Du's cloak warm?"
"It's passable. Why? Are you thinking about trading with me now that you're cold? Forget it."
"I heard he has a strange habit. Before every battle, he must sleep with a beautiful woman. Perhaps the cloak you're wearing now was laid under the lady. Who knows what evidence of their passion remains? There seems to be a reek coming from it."
"Keep talking—I'll vomit blood on you, and we can die together."
At last, silence.
The rain stopped, and the autumn wind rolled in. Though heavy clouds covered the sky and the moon was absent, a faint, refreshing breeze swirled past.
The clear skies that had been gone for so long would finally return.
***
Later, Cui Buqu sent the Zuoyue guard and Pei Jingzhe to fetch the others. A carriage comfortably transported Qin Miaoyu, Ming Yue, and Guan Shanhai back to the relay station.
Before Qin Miaoyu could celebrate her wise decision, however, a wave of heavy official duties poured in. She soon wished she could cry and fall into a coma from her wounds like Ming Yue had.
Xiao Lü's people had transported all the rice away, and not a single grain remained. Fortunately the flood had receded, and with the aid of Yang Yun's testimony, the several large households that had conspired with him were easily captured. Following Yang Yun's list, Cui Buqu rounded them all up and pressured them to hand over their stored grain for Pei Jingzhe to distribute to the citizens.
The large households immediately became evasive, unwilling to cough up what they'd swallowed. The Li family even boasted of their relationship with the Li clan of Longxi. It was common knowledge that the matriarch of Longxi's Li clan was Empress Dugu's older sister. Qin Miaoyu had only joined the Jiejian Bureau recently and found it difficult to navigate the intricate relationships between Central Plains families. She sought out Cui Buqu for advice.
When Qin Miaoyu arrived, Cui Buqu had been knocked unconscious by a bowl of hemp powder while the doctors set his bones. His thin lips were pressed tightly together and his brow was furrowed, as if the pain reached him even in his sleep.
Qiao Xian stood guard beside him. Qin Miaoyu cast her a quick glance. She'd heard Qiao Xian had knelt at Cui Buqu's door for most of the night after returning, and that Pei Jingzhe—that fool—had held an umbrella for her the entire time. Only when the sky began to pale with dawn did Cui Buqu summon her inside. Qin Miaoyu didn't know what they'd discussed, but Qiao Xian's relief afterward was palpable. Her face shone, radiant, as if she'd unshouldered years' worth of burdens. Pei Jingzhe, fool that he was, couldn't take his eyes off her.
Qin Miaoyu silently sighed at the incompetence of her Jiejian Bureau colleagues.
Noticing her gaze, Qiao Xian looked up, her eyes flashing with coldness and hostility. Qin Miaoyu was taken aback until she remembered she'd been busy all night while Feng Xiao and Ming Yue were both injured and recuperating. She hadn't removed her makeup, so she was still wearing Feng Xiao's face.
In that case, she thought wickedly, couldn't she use Deputy Chief Feng's identity to play a trick or two and let him take the blame once he woke?
Perhaps she was tired of living.
Cui Buqu opened his eyes in a daze. The pain made him slow to react; he stared at the curtain above his head in silence for a full quarter hour before slowly turning toward Qiao Xian and Qin Miaoyu.
"Lord Chief," Qiao Xian said softly, "the doctor visited earlier and left a prescription. The medicine has been prepared. Would you like a bowl?"
What did she mean, Would you like a bowl? She was talking about taking medicine like drinking soup. Qin Miaoyu considered for a moment. Then she playfully imitated Feng Xiao's voice and tone. "I have candy here."
As if by magic, she produced a small jar, opening the lid to release the sweet smell of malt sugar.
Cui Buqu took the jar and looked at her. "Qin Miaoyu, do you have nothing better to do?"
Qin Miaoyu choked. She'd thought her performance flawless, yet this man had seen right through her.
"The lord chief is wise." The clever Qin Miaoyu laughed awkwardly, no longer pretending. Before Feng Xiao had gone into seclusion to recover, he'd instructed her to follow Cui Buqu's commands. Cui Buqu had shown no mercy ordering her around, driving her like a dog and sending her all over the county.
"I've gathered up the refugees as you asked. It's just as your lordship predicted: They refuse to camp outside the city."
"They've been imprisoned for many days," said Cui Buqu coolly. "Of course they no longer trust the government. To them, leaving the city is no different than waiting for death. Only remaining offers a glimmer of hope."
His voice was hoarse and slow, but very steady. Qin Miaoyu patiently waited for him to finish, then nodded. "It's just as you say. I let them take temporary shelter in the county office. It's vacant after Huang Lüe's death, and I set some constables there to keep watch. For now, things are under control. The trouble is, there's no grain left. The wealthy households aren't willing to provide any; they claim it's the government's responsibility to aid the refugees, and that it goes against all reason to tell them to give their own food away. The Ding and Li families are most adamant, and they have relatives at court. This subordinate isn't sure what we ought to do. I must trouble your lordship for advice."