Xie Zheng did not answer her directly. After writing the last line of commentary on the book’s title page, he set down his brush and said, “In these books, I’ve annotated all the obscure and difficult passages. You should be able to understand them on your own now.”

Hearing that, Fan Changyu immediately understood.

He had promised to teach her to read, but now it seemed he could no longer fulfill that promise—so he had made all the annotations and left them for her.

For a moment, her heart felt hollow, a strange emptiness she could not quite name.

But they were neither kin nor family. Their false marriage had always been a matter of mutual benefit; neither owed the other anything. Besides, he had helped her quite a lot during this time.

Fan Changyu suppressed the faint oddness in her heart and said, “There’s nothing I want. I already have all I need. The butcher shop business is thriving, the braised meat has made a name for itself, and with a steady source of income, come spring I can even raise pigs in the pen out in the countryside…”

As she spoke of her future plans, she suddenly remembered that he was leaving soon—so the matter of raising pigs would likely have nothing to do with him. She couldn’t help but lift her eyes to him and found that he seemed to be listening to her intently, his expression calm and gentle. At once, an indescribable sadness rose within her.

She thought perhaps it was because he had been by her side during her most difficult days, that hearing he was leaving now made her feel somewhat unaccustomed to it.

She said, “The silver you left with me—tomorrow I’ll go to the money exchange and have it converted into silver notes for you. That way, it’ll be easier to carry on the road.”

Xie Zheng’s fine brows furrowed slightly. “What’s given to you is given to you.”

Fan Changyu replied, “When you’re out on the road, there’ll be plenty of places where you’ll need to spend silver. Besides, you still have to rebuild your escort bureau. If you don’t carry money with you, what do you plan to live on—air? And besides, one shouldn’t take rewards without earning them. Holding on to such a large sum of your money makes me uneasy.”

Forty taels of silver was not a small amount. It was one thing for him to leave it with her temporarily, but now that he was leaving and still wanted to keep it here, Fan Changyu truly couldn’t accept it with peace of mind.

Including the six taels they had split from selling braised meat at Yixiang Tower the previous day, he had left a total of forty-six taels with her. Fan Changyu planned to add four more taels of her own to make it an even fifty, exchange it all for silver notes to give him, and also prepare some coppers for carriage fare and meals on the road.

That way, she wouldn’t owe him anything.

Xie Zheng’s lips pressed tighter as he looked at her. “Wasn’t it sugar money?”

Fan Changyu met his gaze, her eyes clear and unclouded. “When you come back someday, if you still want sweets, I’ll buy them for you again.”

She smiled slightly, half teasing but also with a note of quiet sincerity. “Otherwise, if you meet some girl out there and want her to buy you sugar, what will you do if you’ve no money?”

Xie Zheng’s lips pressed even tighter. Whatever softness had lingered on him vanished completely.

Fan Changyu, as if oblivious, stifled a yawn. “It’s late. You should rest early.”

Even after Fan Changyu returned to her room, Xie Zheng remained seated at the table. After a long while, he finally closed his eyes.

Aside from her, there would never be anyone else to buy him sugar again.

He was not sure if he would survive this journey. Some words, he could not bring himself to say.

He Jingyuan’s investigation into the two hundred thousand shi of grain had led to Zhao Xun. Zhao Xun had handed the grain to Xie Zheng’s former subordinates. Although He Jingyuan had not found concrete proof, following the faint traces, he could already guess much of it.

Wei Xuan had acted in such a reckless, outrageous manner. With He Jingyuan’s abilities and within Jizhou Prefecture, restraining Wei Xuan would not have been difficult.

But he did not. He merely wished to use the common people to force Xie Zheng to appear with those two hundred thousand shi of grain.

The suffering of the common people and the public shame mattered little, apparently, compared to his life in the eyes of the Wei faction.

After all, back when the Wei faction wanted to get rid of him, they had their planted spy report false military intelligence; the eight thousand soldiers who followed him onto the battlefield became abandoned pawns on the Chongzhou battlefield…

That mountain of corpses and sea of blood formed a great grievance that had not been avenged. As long as the Wei family — father and son — had not seen his corpse, how could they sleep soundly?

He could not give her a promise that he would return. She looked carefree, but she was a person of strong principles; she would not allow any unclear entanglement with him, which was why she insisted on refusing to accept his silver.

If they owed each other nothing, then they would not harbor lingering attachments.

He thought: fine, let there be no mutual indebtedness — after all, she was only a butcher’s daughter, what worth was she?

He rose and paced toward his room. Passing under the eaves, a flake of snow fell onto his brow; the chill from the melting ice seeped to the bone, and the last trace of pride in his heart was eroded by that cold.

His hand pressed lightly to the wooden door as he pushed, but he could not open it; he lowered his head and shut his eyes heavily, hiding this moment of embarrassment.

How could she not be good?

She was good everywhere.

· ─ ·✶· ─ · 

The courtyard was deep; snow had covered the bamboo branches.

Zhao Xun trod through the fallen snow and hurried across the courtyard into the warm pavilion. The room was brightly lit with candlelight. Behind the crescent-shaped carved moon gate stood a pair of gilded suan ni Boshan incense burners; pale smoke slowly rose through the openwork lids.

Further in, before a soft couch, a half-length golden gauze curtain hung down, obscuring the appearance of the man on the couch. From the embroidered hem that fell beneath the couch, the brocade was woven with gold and exceedingly sumptuous.

Zhao Xun dared not stare. He bowed his head in respect and said, “Master, as you ordered, the matter of Wei Xuan forcibly requisitioning grain has been widely publicized in the capital. All the officials are denouncing the Wei faction, and Grand Tutor Li is openly attacking Wei Yan in the court.”

The man behind the gauze curtain smiled faintly — whether in derision or genuine amusement, Zhao Xun could not tell. “Well done.”

He asked again, “How did things stand on the Marquis Wu’an side?”

Recalling his last meeting with Xie Zheng, a thin sweat broke on Zhao Xun’s temple. He forced himself and reported, “Marquis Wu’an informed his subordinates to notify He Jingyuan about Wei Xuan’s cross-border grain requisition, presumably intending to have He Jingyuan stop Wei Xuan from taking the grain.”

The man behind the gauze chuckled lowly. Zhao Xun could not tell if it was mockery or genuine laughter: “That Wei Yan, that treacherous rebel — who would have thought he raised a nephew who pities the people’s hardships?”

He took a small sip and set down his teacup. His fingers were long and gaunt, the knuckles excessively pale, the hand thin like a few dry bones. “It’s no wonder Wei Yan fears him so much. By buying grain, he probed and discovered more than ten contact points of your hand in Tai and Ji prefectures; when delivering the goods he deliberately left clues for He Jingyuan — a proper gift returned to Marquis Wu’an. After all… if Jizhou Prefecture hadn’t continued to make a scandal over grain requisition, the stage we set up in the capital would have no actors.”

Zhao Xun grew worried. “If Marquis Wu’an discovers that we left a tail for He Jingyuan…”

The man behind the gauze was unconcerned. “What’s there to fear? It wasn’t we who held a knife to Wei Xuan’s throat forcing him to requisition grain. If this makes the Wei faction repeatedly lose the people’s hearts, and lets Wei Yan’s two old blades play on the same stage, why not relish it? Besides, this is also a favor to Marquis Wu’an — the heavier the people’s hatred for the Wei faction, the more popular he’ll be when he later steps forward to reclaim the northwest, won’t he?”

Zhao Xun praised, “The master is wise.”

Then he hesitated and chose his words carefully: “Marquis Wu’an wishes to meet with the master in person. What do you think?”

He dared not repeat, even one line, the arrogant words Xie Zheng had spoken that day to the man before him.

The man behind the gauze pondered for a moment and said, “Not yet. Let him and Wei Yan fight like clam and heron, best if both are left wounded.”

Zhao Xun heard from that that the man intended only to use Xie Zheng; he hesitated, “After all, Marquis Wu’an is the orphaned scion of General Xie…”

The man’s eyes turned abruptly cold.

“A wolf pup raised by Wei Yan’s own hand could never be some pure and virtuous thing. Leaving military power in another’s hands will never be as secure as keeping it in one’s own.”

Though the air was bitterly cold, cold sweat broke across Zhao Xun’s back in waves. He bowed low. “Your subordinate understands.”

· ─ ·✶· ─ · 

That same night, the lights burned long in the He residence as well.

Dozens of soldiers under Wei Xuan’s command surrounded the gates; no one in the household was permitted to leave.

Even the side gates and courtyard walls were patrolled back and forth by guards.

In the darkness, a sudden storm of arrows hissed toward the soldiers at the front gate. The troops at the entrance were thrown into chaos, scrambling for cover behind whatever they could find.

“Enemy attack!”

“Quick, report to the general!”

“Kill——!”

From the shadows, a troop of Jizhou soldiers armed with blades and halberds surged forward, striking the Wei faction soldiers before they could recover. In moments, they had the upper hand.

Leading the Jizhou troops was Zheng Wenchang. He raised his broadsword high. “Follow me in and rescue the lord!”

As a trusted general under He Jingyuan, Zheng Wenchang was well acquainted with the layout of the He estate. Soon, he led his men straight to the study.

He Jingyuan sat behind his desk, a bamboo scroll unfurled before him, reading by candlelight. When he saw Zheng Wenchang and his men burst in with weapons drawn, his expression changed slightly.

“Why have you come?”

Zheng Wenchang dropped to one knee, clasping his fists. “Your subordinate has brought men to help you escape this siege. Wei Xuan’s actions are intolerable! My lord, you should write a letter to the Chancellor in the capital — let’s see how long Wei Xuan can continue his arrogance!”

Hearing his intent, He Jingyuan furrowed his brows and sighed deeply. “Foolishness!”

Zheng Wenchang looked puzzled. “My lord, what do you mean by that?”

He Jingyuan did not explain. After pacing the study for a while, he finally said, “Take your men and leave at once.”

Zheng Wenchang was stunned. “And you, my lord?”

He Jingyuan said, “Wei Xuan dares not harm me. I have my reasons for acting as I do. Return and await further orders.”

The generals exchanged uneasy glances but, out of loyalty and respect, bowed their fists. “Your subordinate obeys.”

As they were about to leave, He Jingyuan hesitated a moment, then added, “If you see Wei Xuan’s soldiers oppressing innocent civilians during the grain requisition, intervene if you can — but do not cause bloodshed.”

The generals nodded, though puzzled, and withdrew.

Only Zheng Wenchang, last to leave, turned back at the door, still confused.

“My lord, why do you fear that Wei Xuan?”

He Jingyuan stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the plaque above his desk inscribed with the words ‘Virtue Shines Through Clarity.’ He sighed.

“It’s not fear. Do not ask further. Do as I’ve said.”

Zheng Wenchang could only bow and depart, carrying his unanswered doubts.

He Jingyuan remained where he was, staring long at the plaque.

His own sins did not matter — what truly mattered was whether the people of Great Yin would, in the future, be forced to struggle for survival amid the flames of war.

When the Son of Heaven grows angry, corpses lie by the millions.

In the power struggles of those who rule, it is always the common folk who suffer the most.

The two hundred thousand shi of grain that had been bought by that merchant named Zhao — if it truly lay in that man’s hands, this ordeal would show whether he took after Wei Yan’s ruthless, goal-obsessed nature, or whether he still remembered compassion for the people of the world.

If it was the latter, then regarding the Battle of Jinzhou sixteen years ago—what he knew of it, when that person returned, perhaps it would finally be time to tell him.

If it was the former, then he would take that secret with him into the coffin.

If there was only hatred left, with not a trace of compassion for the people of the world, then after learning the truth, all that would come of it would be more war, and the suffering of the common folk would only deepen.