“My master, too, bears an irreconcilable hatred toward Wei Yan.”

Zhao Xun was born with eyes that seemed to smile, giving the illusion of amiability and ease of approach. Yet within those eyes, there was also a faint sense of distance. “Approaching the Marquis was not to borrow your influence. It is simply that my master believed—once the Marquis learns the truth of the Battle of Jinzhou sixteen years ago—you would also wish to personally slay Wei Yan. Concealing our identity before was not done with malice. My master merely wished to wait until the right time to reveal himself to the Marquis.”

Xie Zheng’s gaze was cold and sharp; a faint suspicion already surfaced in his mind, yet he still asked, “Who is your master?”

Zhao Xun replied, “The one who miraculously survived the great fire in the Eastern Palace sixteen years ago.”

The corner of Xie Zheng’s lips lifted into a cold curve. “The imperial grandson? If the imperial grandson still lives, should he not seek alliance with Grand Preceptor Li’s faction? Why wait until today to find a defeated hound like me of Pingyang?”

Zhao Xun looked troubled. “You have investigated the traces left from the Battle of Jinzhou sixteen years ago. You should know that the old traitor Wei Yan has always been thorough in cutting grass and rooting out its seeds, leaving no evidence behind. When the Crown Prince died and the Eastern Palace burned, the late emperor ordered the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review to jointly investigate, yet even they could not uncover the truth—let alone now, when time and circumstance have changed. Grand Preceptor Li may be the leader of the court’s pure faction, but he would not stake everything to oppose the Wei faction for my master’s sake. The Marquis is different. General Xie died on the battlefield, his body exposed on the city tower of Beijue for three days—Wei Yan shares blame for that vengeance. Does the Marquis not wish to repay that blood debt?”

Xie Zheng’s fingers curled; murderous intent seemed to seep from between his bones, making even the not-so-cramped private room hard to breathe in. “Speak. What truly happened sixteen years ago?”

Zhao Xun said, “My master has lain low for years, yet even he could not uncover a single clue about the Battle of Jinzhou. Back then, after the fire in the Eastern Palace, the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review concluded that a palace attendant on night duty had fallen asleep and accidentally overturned a candlestick. But according to the loyal servant who was by my master’s side, there had been assassins who broke into the Eastern Palace that night. The Crown Princess ordered the servant to take the young prince and flee, while she stayed behind with the prince’s playmate in the bedchamber. The body found later by the Court of Judicial Review belonged to that childhood playmate.”

“When His Highness Crown Prince Chengde died and the late emperor passed away, it was Wei Yan who held the emperor hostage to command the feudal lords for more than a decade. It is difficult not to suspect that the Battle of Jinzhou was his doing. General Xie’s death on the battlefield served only to help Wei Yan wash his hands clean of suspicion.”

Xie Zheng’s dark eyes lifted slightly, impatience pressing between his brows. “What I want is evidence, not conjecture.”

Zhao Xun’s lips curved faintly. “When Prince Changxin rebelled in Chongzhou, one of his strategists was my master’s man. It was he who proposed raising the banner of ‘cleansing the court’s side and eradicating the Wei faction.’ To stir the people’s hearts, he also spread rumors that the Jinzhou massacre back then had been orchestrated by Wei Yan. What followed, the Marquis must already know. You merely reopened the Jinzhou case files, and Wei Yan already sought to have you killed.”

Xie Zheng’s long eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp as a blade. A cold smile crossed his face. “So it seems that I, too, am merely a piece in your plan.”

Zhao Xun’s expression stiffened. “The Marquis overstates it. My master merely wishes to gain the Marquis as an ally.”

Seeing Xie Zheng’s displeasure, he quickly added, “That old thief Wei, after being struck by the explosion, has indeed revealed his flaws. His trained killers have crossed seventeen prefectures of the capital and slain over a dozen people. Some of them, my master has already identified—they were once men who served Wei Yan, later retired to live in obscurity.”

Xie Zheng asked, “Then that butcher surnamed Fan and his family—you’ve uncovered their identities as well, I suppose?”

Zhao Xun showed a look of shame. “That butcher surnamed Fan has hidden his identity so tightly that not a drop leaks through. My master sent people to investigate repeatedly, yet whether in the Fan family’s ancestral home or this very town, every secret inquiry turned up a man by that name. Even his escort records from when he traveled escorting goods over ten years ago exist in the government archives. It seems as though someone in the officialdom deliberately helped conceal his past.”

Images of Fan Changyu recounting her parents’ past flashed in Xie Zheng’s mind; for a moment he lost focus. A flake of snow fell onto the back of his hand, and the chill of its melting pulled his thoughts back in an instant.

He leaned back slightly, one arm resting on the huanghuali armrest of the grand master’s chair—his most relaxed posture, yet one that exuded the utmost oppression. “And you expect me to believe, on your word alone, that the person behind you is the imperial grandson who perished in the fire sixteen years ago? Ridiculous.”

Zhao Xun’s expression changed, and just as he was about to speak, he heard Xie Zheng say,

“The truth behind the Battle of Jinzhou sixteen years ago, I will investigate it myself. I care not whether your master is a true imperial grandson or a false one. If he does not wish for this alliance to end here, he had best come meet me in person.”

Zhao Xun’s face darkened, yet he could only bow and say, “I, Zhao, will convey the Marquis’s words.”

When Xie Zheng rose, his eyelids drooped slightly. His tone was indolent as he said, “Tell him also to think carefully—what are his terms for exchanging two hundred thousand shi of grain?”

Zhao Xun’s already-bowed figure bent three degrees lower. “Yes.”

As Xie Zheng left, he placed the jade ring—originally meant as a token of alliance—back onto the huanghuali table.

He had indulged this man surnamed Zhao in polite pretense for so long only to uncover whose faction he truly belonged to. The answer of imperial grandson was indeed beyond Xie Zheng’s expectations.

He was not worried about losing track of their movements. When he had sent Zhao to purchase grain, he had already arranged for his own people to secretly monitor the Zhao family’s hidden informants. From there, he would peel away the threads one by one. Even if the man behind Zhao refused to show himself, Xie Zheng would soon drag him into the light.

He truly did bear hatred toward Wei Yan, yet before the dust had even settled, there were already those bold enough to plot against him, hoping to make him their greatest weapon. They had, indeed, thought him far too kindhearted.

· ─ ·✶· ─ · 

When Xie Zheng left the bookshop and saw that Fan Changyu and her sister had not yet come looking for him, his brows furrowed slightly, and he turned toward the direction of Head Constable Wang’s residence.

He had not gone far when he ran into Fan Changyu and Changning. Changning’s mouth was stuffed with candy, her cheeks round and puffed as she skipped along. Fan Changyu held her small, chubby hand, her face bright and brimming with cheerful energy.

Seeing Xie Zheng, the smile on her face did not fade in the slightest. From a distance, she waved first, then, upon nearing him, said, “We’re not going back to town tonight.”

Looking at the smile on her face, the gloom and irritation in Xie Zheng’s heart lightened somewhat. “Why?” he asked.

Fan Changyu replied, “Shopkeeper Yu also opened a Yixiang Tower here in the county. A wealthy merchant’s son is getting married and has ordered the banquet there. They need a large batch of braised meat prepared by tomorrow, and Shopkeeper Yu was worried about not finishing in time, so he asked me to help with the preparations in the morning. It just so happens that there’s a lantern festival in the city this year—we can go and enjoy it tonight.”

Xie Zheng said, “Then shall we find an inn to stay at first?”

Fan Changyu shook her head. “Shopkeeper Yu already arranged a place for us. The kitchen assistants at Yixiang Tower have all their meals and lodging provided. Shopkeeper Yu even rents a nearby alley of houses for them to live in, free of charge.”

Xie Zheng arched a brow. “This shopkeeper is quite a remarkable person.”

Fan Changyu smiled. “He really is. Shopkeeper Yu treats everyone well—the workers all respect him. I heard from Chef Li that another restaurant manager in the county once grew jealous of Yixiang Tower’s business and tried to poach one of Shopkeeper Yu’s stewards—someone he personally promoted. That man offered double the pay, but the steward still refused to leave.”

Xie Zheng merely said, “Sometimes, sentiment works better than silver.”

Fan Changyu chattered enthusiastically about Yu Qianqian for quite a while. Seeing his indifferent reaction, she stopped herself. Then, noticing that his hands were empty, she asked, “Didn’t you go to buy paper and ink? Why did you come back empty-handed?”

A thought crossed her mind, and her expression turned a little complicated. “Don’t tell me you spent all your silver buying something for Ning-niang? You should’ve told me if you were short on money…”

Xie Zheng gave a faint, amused smile; the gloom from the bookshop had already lifted by more than half. “No.”

Under Fan Changyu’s doubtful gaze, he said, “The items in the county’s bookshop were too expensive. I’ll buy them when we return to town.”

Fan Changyu asked, “Then what were you doing there for so long?”

Xie Zheng answered, “I was reading. Lost track of time.”

Fan Changyu asked curiously, “You stayed in the bookshop for so long but didn’t buy anything—didn’t the shopkeeper give you a dirty look?”

Xie Zheng’s gaze swept toward her. “Who told you that?”

Fan Changyu had meant to say that back then, Song Yan was like that too. Because he only read in the bookshop without ever buying anything, the shopkeeper had shown him a sour face. He’d come home sulking for days afterward, and whenever the matter was brought up again, he would sneer that the bookshop keeper reeked of copper stench.

But then she remembered how sharp-tongued Yan Zheng said Song Yan could be—poisonous, even. The words reached her lips, yet she swallowed them back and muttered instead, “I just guessed.”

Xie Zheng gave her a few glances. The skin at the back of Fan Changyu’s neck tensed instinctively, afraid that he would spit out some heart-piercing remark the next second.

Fortunately, the entire walk passed without him mocking her.

By now, the sky had darkened, and since they had already decided to stay in the county for the night, Fan Changyu chose to take Xie Zheng and Changning to see the lanterns in the evening. Instead of returning to the lodging Shopkeeper Yu Qianqian had arranged, they went first to a restaurant for a late-night meal.

Those who dined out on New Year’s Day were generally families of decent means.

At the next table, a young couple had just finished their meal. When the waiter came to tally their bill, he smiled and said to the man, “This young master, that will be one tael and two qian in total.”

The man’s build looked frail and scholarly; his expression timid and uneasy, as though ill at ease with the world.

The woman sitting beside him said loudly, “He doesn’t have money on him—I’ll pay.”

Her voice was rather loud, drawing the attention of many diners inside the shop.

Someone muttered under their breath, “A grown man, eating outside and still letting a woman pay for him—what a disgrace!”

“Tsk tsk, maybe he’s just a kept pretty face!”

“I know that man—he’s the son-in-law of the An family, a live-in husband. A good-for-nothing parasite! Don’t know what that An woman ever saw in such a weakling!”

The man’s face flushed a furious red; he looked as if he wished he could crawl into a hole in the ground.

After the woman paid, he kept his head down and practically fled the restaurant.

Xie Zheng had already finished eating and merely watched the commotion with a cold, detached expression.

Across from him, Fan Changyu finished her third bowl of rice, the dishes on the table scrubbed clean as could be. Only then did she put down her chopsticks with satisfaction and call out, “Waiter, the bill!”

Fan Changyu ate heartily, and since it was New Year’s night, the dishes she ordered were plentiful. Still, she hadn’t ordered any wine, so the price couldn’t be too outrageous.

After tallying, the waiter said, “Eight qian of silver.”

Fan Changyu was about to take out her money when Xie Zheng, sitting across from her like a jade statue, said, “I’ll pay.”

The two of them were strikingly good-looking; in the small restaurant, they already drew plenty of attention. Now, as he spoke, even more heads turned discreetly their way.

Seeing that he intended to pay, Fan Changyu remembered the couple from earlier and paused her motion of reaching for her purse.

Xie Zheng slipped a hand into his robe to feel for his pouch—but his expression subtly changed.

Noticing it, Fan Changyu quickly cast him a questioning look.

A moment later, Xie Zheng withdrew his hand and looked at her. “You pay.”