MOTOC - Chapter 92 - “All things considered, I made a small profit.”
Cool and smooth—like silk, like thin mist—but the moment he touched it, it made the tips of Fang Linyuan’s fingers go numb, stripped of all sensation.
When he retreated further, it was purely by instinct, driven by the body’s survival impulse.
His hand jerked back abruptly.
But in his rush to escape, Fang Linyuan failed to notice that his fingers were still hooked onto Zhao Chu’s collar.
So when his hand yanked back, it also tugged on the fabric—pulling it clean off Zhao Chu’s shoulder.
The robe slipped from his grip and quickly fell away.
Sinful!
At the sight of Zhao Chu’s collar suddenly loosened, Fang Linyuan’s first reaction was to reach up in a panic—cover his eyes.
It was clearly a full-blooded man standing before him, and yet he dared not look. As though one glance might reveal some bewitching, fatal beauty that would drown him.
But the robe sliding off lasted barely a second.
And in that same instant, Fang Linyuan saw—on Zhao Chu’s bare chest, there was no alluring sight to speak of.
That half of his chest was wrapped up tight. From his chest to his opposite shoulder, layer upon layer of white silk gauze.
It was the still-healing wound from when he had shielded Fang Linyuan from an arrow.
*
Fang Linyuan was so overcome with guilt he nearly spun in place.
What was he doing!
The man had risked his life for him—used his own body to block an arrow.
And what had he done in return? He’d accused the man of dressing improperly, blamed him for having too beautiful a shoulder, blamed him for…
Fang Linyuan’s fingers twitched slightly, as though they could still feel that smooth, silken touch.
He recoiled instantly, like he’d been shocked.
He was truly despicable!
Fang Linyuan was tormented by remorse, his every emotion written plainly across his face.
And that expression, in Zhao Chu’s eyes, looked quite pitiable.
Staring at that still-bandaged wound—which was, in truth, mostly healed—his gaze was full of panic, guilt, and tenderness, like a fawn that had accidentally stumbled into someone.
Who could blame a little fawn for bumping into them? One would only feel grateful that such a pure and beautiful creature had chosen them among all others.
Zhao Chu wanted to lift the gauze and show him it was nothing—that he was fine.
But he knew that would only frighten him more.
So he said nothing. He simply pulled his collar closed again, covering both the exposed skin and the gauze at his chest.
How could the world produce someone so fierce, yet so fragile? Clearly burning with intensity, impossible to look away from—and yet the moment you touched him, he flushed and trembled, a poor startled creature that made your heart go soft like water.
Fang Linyuan had no idea of the soft and tangled thoughts running through Zhao Chu’s mind.
His head was a mess—one moment flashing to the image of Zhao Chu in blood-soaked white robes, the next to the cool, sleek touch of Zhao Chu’s skin. The conflicting sensations twisted and pulled at him, like fire and water entwined, almost engulfing him.
Just then, a soft piece of silk fluttered into his vision.
Fang Linyuan turned his head—and saw Zhao Chu, now clothed, leaning slightly toward him. With a serene expression, he reached out and gently patted Fang Linyuan’s head.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Just a small injury—it’s nearly healed. The robe’s too thin, that’s all, needed a bit of cover.”
Fang Linyuan blinked.
He hadn’t even said anything. How had Zhao Chu known exactly what he was thinking?
And then, belatedly, he registered the feeling on his head.
…He touched his head again!
Fang Linyuan flushed with inexplicable embarrassment.
Technically, he was older than Zhao Chu—why was he always the one being treated like a child?
It was too intimate!
He couldn’t quite explain the strange air between them, but he was keenly aware: Zhao Chu’s unintentional touches… for him…
Fang Linyuan pressed his lips together, and carefully leaned his head away.
“Got it,” he said quietly.
It might not have been a proper thought, but the moment he met Zhao Chu’s eyes, Fang Linyuan couldn’t help thinking:
It’s too much.
Too enticing. Far too enticing.
*
His Majesty had accepted Sang Zhixin’s proposal and allowed him to pilot the Tax Revision Law in the capital. Simultaneously, among the forty-nine provinces of Daxuan, Jiangnan was chosen as the trial region, with court officials appointed to oversee its implementation.
With the decree issued, the court stirred once again.
For the officials of the court, the Tax Revision Law was both a purge and a reshuffling. No one wanted to be the meat on someone else’s chopping block during such a critical time.
The Third Prince’s faction was especially aggressive. With their greatest rival, Sang Zhixin, seemingly falling from grace, they saw it as the perfect opportunity to profit from the chaos. This was a golden chance to build merit, cleanse the provinces, and eliminate enemies—how could they not seize it?
Yet, despite all their lobbying, the Third Prince’s men managed to insert barely a handful of officials into the inspection teams sent south.
Instead, it was Yuan Honglang—always quiet and unassuming—and Heng Feizhang, who had earned high merit from the recent Yanzhou case, both famously rigid and old-fashioned, who were handpicked by the emperor to serve as the Tax Inspectors to Jiangnan.
The Third Prince’s camp was discouraged—but not defeated. They kept scheming and managed to plant a few more people in the southern delegation by other means.
After all, Jiangnan was such a vast region—how much could those two Inspectors really manage? At a time like this, it was worth seizing even the tiniest bit more power. They had to guard not only against the rise of a new faction, but also against the revival of Sang Zhixin’s old party.
But the former members of Sang’s faction weren’t idle either.
Now that their patron had abruptly fallen from grace and the tide had turned against them, they couldn’t just sit around and wait for doom. Those whose crimes weren’t serious enough for dismissal or imprisonment were all highly active—some sought refuge with the Third Prince, some went knocking on Yuan Honglang’s door, and others looked for ways to secure their own futures by wedging themselves into the southern inspection delegation.
For a time, the entire court became a chaotic stage—one side finishing their act just as the other stepped up. It was livelier than a bustling teahouse drama or street-side opera.
Fang Linyuan also got busy.
Winter had already arrived, and there was now less than a month before His Majesty’s Longevity Festival. Held before the year’s end, it was the traditional time when envoys from all nations would come to the capital to offer tribute and congratulations. Word had already arrived that the envoys from Persia and Java were on their way.
Security and ceremonial arrangements for the tribute ceremonies had always been jointly managed by the Imperial Guards Command and the Court of State Ceremonial. This year, the Sixteenth Imperial Garrison had received repeated commendations from the Emperor and was granted special permission to participate in the ceremonial guards. As its commander, Fang Linyuan had to co-lead the arrangements with the officials from the Imperial Guards.
Fang Linyuan had never expected the task to be so complicated.
With both the foreign envoys’ visit and the Emperor’s fiftieth birthday banquet coinciding, the court treated it as a grand double celebration—naturally requiring coordination among multiple government departments.
The Imperial Guards Command, which managed the ceremonial guards and the imperial palanquins; the Court of State Ceremonial, which handled diplomatic affairs; and the Ministry of Rites, which oversaw rituals and sacrifices—all had to coordinate together. The process was complex and tedious, and social obligations were unavoidable. For days, Fang Linyuan was so overwhelmed he barely had time to return home.
Fortunately, after several days, the Sixteenth Garrison’s role in the festivities finally became clear.
Thanks to the Imperial Guards Command officials’ deep experience in ceremonial matters, and Fang Linyuan’s past collaboration with the Court of State Ceremonial, they managed to work efficiently together.
Soon, the responsibilities between Imperial Guards Command and the Sixteenth Garrison were clearly divided. Fang Linyuan was left to oversee only the ceremonial drills of his own unit while waiting for the foreign envoys to arrive.
The Assistant Minister of the Imperial Guards Command assigned a few ceremonial guards to him, gave him the necessary instructions, then smiled and patted him on the shoulder.
“Thank heavens for the Sixteenth Garrison,” he said. “Without your help, we at the Imperial Guards Command wouldn’t have known what to do.”
“My lord, what do you mean?” Fang Linyuan asked, puzzled.
The Assistant Minister blinked in surprise. “The General doesn’t know?”
Fang Linyuan shook his head, still confused.
The Assistant Minister lowered his voice and said quietly: “This year, the court has been anything but stable. And now, it’s His Majesty’s fiftieth birthday—envoys from every nation are entering the capital. So His Majesty wishes to hold an especially grand Longevity Banquet this year.”
Unstable times... and he wanted to throw a banquet?
Fang Linyuan had only just returned from missions in Chongzhou and Yanzhou, where he saw firsthand famine-stricken commoners going hungry, and corrupt officials colluding with merchants to bleed the people dry. Hearing this now felt utterly absurd.
Even if this year’s harvests had been decent, it would still take several years of recovery to truly restore the livelihoods of the people after years of hardship.
How could they justify such extravagance now?
He felt deeply unsettled, though his face showed no sign of it. The Assistant Minister continued: “The Ministry of Rites has doubled the number of ceremonial guards across the board, but our Imperial Guards Command simply doesn’t have that many men. So I personally petitioned His Majesty for reinforcements.”
Fang Linyuan blinked.
He suddenly recalled how, upon returning to the capital a few days ago, some of the lads from the Sixteenth Garrison had excitedly told him the Emperor had praised their outstanding service. That was why they were being honored with the rare privilege of standing guard before foreign dignitaries and high-ranking officials.
So this... was the real reason? Just a cleverly packaged secondment?
As Fang Linyuan fell silent, the Assistant Minister chuckled and added: “Still, who would have thought His Majesty would call upon the Sixteenth Garrison? You already shine brightly in the capital. It’s only thanks to His Majesty’s favor that we’re lucky enough to work alongside you, General.”
Faced with his ingratiating smile, Fang Linyuan didn’t reject the gesture and smiled back.
“You flatter me, my lord,” he replied.
“This is the Emperor’s grace toward my garrison brothers. As for ceremonial matters—I don’t understand a bit of it. If not for your guidance, I’d probably still be in a total mess.”
The two chatted pleasantly for a while longer before Fang Linyuan walked the Assistant Minister to the gate. Watching his carriage disappear into the distance, Fang Linyuan let out a long breath and rubbed his face.
His smile had frozen. He was exhausted.
Just a bit of small talk, yet it was more draining than a battlefield campaign.
Fortunately, now that their responsibilities with the Imperial Guards Command were settled, there weren’t many more social obligations left.
It was nearly noon. The Sixteenth Garrison’s troops and horses were already assembled at the training grounds, ready for drills. Fang Linyuan planned to drill them all afternoon, then dismiss them early. That way, he could make it back to Huaiyu Pavilion for a proper meal.
But fate had other plans.
Just as the sun dipped toward the horizon and men and horses alike were weary, Fang Linyuan was about to announce dismissal when a sentry reported that a senior official from the Ministry of Rites had arrived in person to conduct an inspection.
The Ministry of Rites?
Every year, His Majesty’s Longevity Banquet was overseen by the Ministry of Rites; naturally, the ceremonial guards responsible for foreign envoys’ receptions also fell under their jurisdiction.
But why come at this moment?
Fang Linyuan frowned and looked up at the sun setting behind the mountains. After ordering the tired soldiers and horses to line up and wait on the drill ground, he personally led a group to the gate to receive the visitor.
He did not expect it to be the Minister of the Ministry of Rites himself—Dou Huairen, Lord Dou, who was also Zhao Chu’s direct maternal uncle.
Lord Dou appeared arrogant, hands clasped behind his back, swaggering out of his embroidered sedan chair. Several officials surrounded him, but he lifted his chin and ignored everyone, slowly walking past the line of saluting guards until he stopped in front of Fang Linyuan.
He was completely unlike the embarrassed, silent, frostbitten-eggplant demeanor he had shown beside the lady before.
“Your servant salutes Lord Dou,” Fang Linyuan bowed.
Dou Huairen looked him up and down coolly, then after a moment spoke slowly: “General Fang, you are too polite.”
Saying this, he strode past Fang Linyuan, deliberately avoiding him, and headed toward the Garrison Command.
“The envoy from Persia will arrive soon. I heard from the Imperial Guards Command that they are responsible for the ceremonial guard of His Majesty’s Longevity Banquet, while the Sixteenth Garrison is responsible for foreign envoys. So I came to see how well the Sixteenth Garrison’s ceremonies are practiced.”
He spoke as he walked.
With such an air of superiority, if he wasn’t here to pick a fight, Fang Linyuan might as well have taken his surname.
Hearing this, Fang Linyuan straightened up, his demeanor neither servile nor arrogant. He quickly stepped forward to walk alongside him and said, “Reporting to Lord Dou, the Sixteenth Garrison only began drills today. There are still five to eight days left. It will certainly not be a problem by then.”
Dou Huairen glanced at him.
“I’m giving you advice for the good of the Sixteenth Garrison,” he said.
“Yes, your servant thanks Lord Dou,” Fang Linyuan replied after a slight pause.
As expected, Dou Huairen had come to show off his power.
Fang Linyuan followed beside him, listening as he found faults here and there, then ordered the Sixteenth Garrison to drill again before inspecting and complaining once more, before finally slowly leaving the drill ground.
“General Fang,” he said on his way out, “technically speaking, I am your wife’s maternal uncle. Isn’t it proper to call me an elder?”
Fang Linyuan long ago treated such words as wind blowing past his ears.
“Yes, my lord is naturally my elder. I have taken your earlier instructions and admonishments to heart,” he said perfunctorily.
Only then was Dou Huairen satisfied. Stopping by his sedan, he instructed Fang Linyuan to be more considerate to the lady, then contentedly boarded the carriage and left.
Watching Dou Huairen’s sedan disappear, Fang Linyuan stretched broadly.
A soldier from the Sixteenth Garrison beside him frowned in displeasure: “General, that lord from Ministry of Rites clearly came to cause you trouble.”
Fang Linyuan smiled and looked at him: “You noticed that too?”
“How could I not? All that pretense, just like those distant relatives of mine who freeload on harvest day,” the soldier indignantly said.
Fang Linyuan laughed and patted his shoulder, saying, “Alright, he’s gone anyway. Go tell the brothers: hard work today. Tomorrow we’ll start training an hour later. Once the foreign envoys leave the capital, I’ll give everyone an extra month’s pay, my treat for drinks.”
The soldier was both happy and indignant: “We don’t mind at all! It’s just that you are so wronged, General!”
“Yes, indeed, how could you not feel wronged?” Fang Linyuan laughed and gave him a friendly punch.
“Now hurry and bring my horse! If I’m late any longer, my lady’s dinner in the courtyard will be over. How else can I ask her for compensation?”
*
Fang Linyuan had long suspected that Dou Huairen’s baseless show of power was most likely because of Zhao Chu.
He rushed to Huaiyu Pavilion and demanded compensation from Zhao Chu.
“Tell Lord Wang to add a plate of peach pastries, a plate of crab roe tofu, and if there’s still lamb, I want it roasted!”
As soon as he sat at the table, he recited a string of dishes to Juan Su, the usually reserved and quiet attendant, who couldn’t help but smile and promptly agreed.
After Juan Su left to instruct the kitchen, Fang Linyuan exhaled deeply and said to Zhao Chu, “Today truly exhausted me!”
But when he turned his head, he saw that the beautiful fox spirit had a dark expression, his elegant brows tightly furrowed, eyes full of deep annoyance, as if he were a fox demon ready to eat someone alive.
“I didn’t know Dou Huairen would come today,” he said. “That old man hasn’t been put in his place for a few days and has become even more prone to making trouble.”
Fang Linyuan, after being pestered by Dou Huairen all afternoon, was startled and quickly reached out to soothe Zhao Chu.
“It’s nothing much,” he said. “He only toured the Garrison Command briefly. Didn’t take much time. See? I even caught dinner in time.”
Zhao Chu, who had specially pushed back the dinner by an hour, said nothing at first. After a moment, he said, “Don’t worry. He won’t dare come to bother you again.”
This made Fang Linyuan curious.
Seeing that no one else was around, he asked Zhao Chu what was going on.
It turned out to be about the recent matter of His Majesty dispatching officials to inspect Jiangnan. Ever since the secret affair with the concubine was exposed, Dou Huairen’s household had been in turmoil.
Now that a large group of officials was to be sent out of the capital, he came to Zhao Chu and insisted that Zhao Chu hand over the position of inspecting commissioner to him, so he could take his concubine and young son to Jiangnan to enjoy a carefree time.
This was an important part of the trap Zhao Chu had set up—how could he allow him to stir things up?
“So that’s how it is?” Fang Linyuan found it strange just hearing it. “So this Lord Dou came all the way to the Garrison Command to make a scene? …Such behavior—how childish.”
Zhao Chu curled the corner of his lips coldly.
Wasn’t it childish? Chancellor Dou and Lady Dou had protected him for decades, and in the end, even Dou Qingyi in the cold palace had to continue guarding their useless son.
If it weren’t for keeping him alive for some purpose…
Zhao Chu’s brows darkened slightly, and his hand resting on the table slowly twisted.
Just then, a hand covered his wrist.
Zhao Chu turned his head slightly, seeing it was Fang Linyuan beside him.
His hand, pressing on Zhao Chu’s wrist through the clothing, was steady. His bright, sparkling black eyes looked at him with full calm and reassurance, like fine, gentle rain falling onto flames.
“Having relatives like that is a troublesome thing,” Fang Linyuan said quietly. “I’ll ignore him, and you don’t need to be angry about him either.”
…Fang Linyuan had noticed?
Zhao Chu had always known that when he got angry, his expression was grim and terrifying. He thought he hid it well and carefully, never letting Fang Linyuan detect it.
He was a little stunned, looked at Fang Linyuan for a moment, then spoke slowly but honestly, “But he is causing trouble for you.”
“You said yourself he won’t bother me again, right?” Fang Linyuan said, his hand on Zhao Chu’s wrist gently moving.
It was a soothing motion, slowly stroking, one pass after another, like petting the fur of some small animal.
This gesture was somewhat childish, but to Zhao Chu, it seemed extremely effective.
It was as if his fur had been smoothed out; the full rage inside him gradually dissipated.
“Hm.” After a moment, he said slowly, “I sent people after him. By now, he must be too busy dealing with his own troubles to bother you again.”
Zhao Chu felt his words were dry and blunt—too clumsy in their straightforwardness.
But he saw Fang Linyuan smile.
His eyes curved into crescent moons, faint light twinkling within, like sparkling jade tiles of the Moon Palace.
“That’s good enough,” Fang Linyuan said.
“Besides, I even traded him for you with a dish of crab roe tofu. So in the end, I made a little profit.”
--
Author’s note:
The fire in Zhao Chu’s eyes turned into a little heart: “Hubby is so cute, sob sob!”
Translator : DarNan
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