From New Year’s Eve onward, the court officials had three days of shared rest. On the third day of the new year, they were to enter the palace as usual to attend the morning court session.

This was the first time the court officials would formally pay respects to Zhao Chu since he had taken control of the Imperial City.

Fang Linyuan also had to report for duty at the Sixteenth Garrison Command.

Since women in Daxuan did not have attire specifically for attending court, Zhao Chu changed into the zhiyi robes worn during ancestral sacrifices and worship ceremonies. When the heavy phoenix crown was placed in his hair, Fang Linyuan happened to finish fastening his leather belt, stepping out from the bedchamber with the scabbard of his saber in hand.

“Looks heavy,” Fang Linyuan remarked, seeing Zhao Chu’s head full of gold and jade ornaments swaying slightly.

Zhao Chu turned his head to look at him.

He was strikingly beautiful—otherwise, no amount of gold, jade, or splendid embroidery could have failed to overwhelm the wearer. Yet at a glance, one’s gaze was still captured entirely by his pair of brilliant, vivid eyes.

Zhao Chu rose slowly to his feet, reached out to take Fang Linyuan’s saber, and bent his head to fasten it at his waist.

“You get used to it after wearing it often enough,” Zhao Chu said. “Are you leaving the palace now?”

Fang Linyuan nodded, stretching his arms in a lazy yawn. “The palace is a bit far from the garrison command, so I’ll leave earlier—best not to be late for roll call.”

Zhao Chu responded with an “Mm,” then after a moment’s thought said, “The garrison command is mostly just city patrol work. Now that the unrest has settled, do you have anything else you’d like to do?”

His tone was mild, but his words laid out all the official posts in the empire before Fang Linyuan as if offering him vegetables to pick from.

Fang Linyuan laughed. “I haven’t thought about it yet. With the four borders at peace right now, it seems there’s not much use for my skills.”

At that, another thought occurred to him. “I heard yesterday that Lin Zizhuo is about to be escorted back to the capital,” he noted.

Zhao Chu did not hide it and nodded in reply. “He should arrive within the next couple of days, and will be sent straight to the Eastern Depot.”

“What do you plan to do with him?” Fang Linyuan asked.

Zhao Chu looked at him, pondering for a moment, then reached up to brush a hand lightly along his cheek. “If you don’t want to kill him, you can keep him,” Zhao Chu said softly. “But he did betray you.”

That, Fang Linyuan was naturally aware of. After a pause, he still said, “When the time comes, let me see him first.”

Zhao Chu nodded. “I’ll tell Shi Shen,” he said. “Coincidentally, Yumen Pass has sent someone back to the capital with news of victory—it should be one of your old subordinates. If you want to see him, have Wu Xinghai send word for you.”

Hearing this, Fang Linyuan’s eyes lit up and he nodded repeatedly.

Seeing the brightness in his eyes, Zhao Chu couldn’t help but laugh.

While adjusting the silk waistband on Fang Linyuan’s belt, Zhao Chu spoke in a voice that seemed casual, yet held a hint of something else. “I only fear that what keeps you tied here in the capital… is me again.”

Fang Linyuan paused slightly before realizing what Zhao Chu meant. “Well, there’s no war at the borders right now. The Tujue went to all that trouble to trick open the gates of Yumen Pass, only to be beaten back before the capital’s reinforcements even reached Longxi,” he said lightly.

He could clearly see Zhao Chu’s expression still slightly for a moment.

After a short silence, Zhao Chu finished tidying his sash and asked in a calm tone, “And if real fighting broke out?”

Ah—so he was afraid of him leaving again.

It was rare for Fang Linyuan to catch one of Zhao Chu’s little worries, and finding it novel, he couldn’t resist leaning closer and teasing, “Then I would…”

He drew it out for a long while without finishing, until Zhao Chu finally couldn’t help himself and glanced up at him.

Fang Linyuan’s smile lifted his brows and eyes. “…Then I would arrive within three days, crush them in battle until they were utterly routed, and be back here in another three days,” he said with a grin.

“As a general, it’s only right to value speed and the element of surprise—so that even if they know I’m not stationed at the frontier, they wouldn’t dare invade lightly.”

His chin lifted slightly as he spoke, full of youthful vigor.

What he didn’t notice was that, hearing this, Zhao Chu quietly let out a breath so faint it was almost imperceptible—the kind that only came after holding one’s breath in tension.

Fang Linyuan thought it was just a little joke, but before he could finish the thought, Zhao Chu suddenly leaned in and, without warning, bit lightly at his lips.

“Ow!” Fang Linyuan exclaimed.

“You’ve smudged your lip rouge onto my mouth again!” As he spoke, Fang Linyuan hurried over to the bronze mirror to wipe the corner of his mouth.

In the reflection, he saw Zhao Chu’s lips curve slightly at last.

“What’s there to fear?” Zhao Chu murmured, gazing at him through the mirror. “They wouldn’t dare laugh at you.”

Fang Linyuan’s hand froze mid-motion, and he lifted his eyes to meet Zhao Chu’s in the mirror, where the flicker of foxfire seemed to dance.

With that look, it was as if the moment Fang Linyuan turned around, Zhao Chu would kiss him until the sky spun and the earth shook.

…No way!

Fang Linyuan instantly clamped a hand over his mouth, nimbly darting away from Zhao Chu before he could get close.

“I’m heading out first!” he called out. “Any later and I’ll be late!”

Zhao Chu did not stop him, only watched as he hurriedly fled. When he passed through the palace hall doors, he tripped slightly over the threshold, which was much higher than that of the Marquis’s residence.

The palace maids at the door were so startled they nearly fell to their knees in fright, but Fang Linyuan only laughed, waved them off, then turned back and winked triumphantly at Zhao Chu through the layers of resplendent golden windows.

Lively and bright, like the sunlight streaming into the hall doors. That radiant sun had, just like that, so easily fallen within his threshold.

Zhao Chu lowered his gaze.

But how could the smile at the corners of his brows and eyes be so easily concealed?

*

By the time Fang Linyuan arrived at the Imperial Guard Command for roll call, Li Cheng’an had already assembled the guards on duty for the day.

“So early today?” Fang Linyuan asked in mild surprise as he saw the guard detachment marching out in good order to change posts.

Unexpectedly, Li Cheng’an seemed even more astonished to see him.

“General?!” Li Cheng’an strode forward in two steps, looking Fang Linyuan over from head to toe several times. “You’re here, General?”

Fang Linyuan frowned slightly, puzzled. “Seen a ghost?”

Li Cheng’an lowered his voice and leaned closer. “No… it’s just—the Fifth Princess, isn’t she presiding over court now?” he whispered in a tone as though revealing a world-shaking secret.

Like facing a great enemy, as if the news were earth-shattering.

“Yes.” Fang Linyuan was helpless. “You’re only hearing about that now?”

“It’s just, it’s just…” Li Cheng’an scratched his head in embarrassment, grinning foolishly at Fang Linyuan.

“What?”

“We’re all worried about you,” he said. “If Her Highness the Fifth really becomes…”

He didn’t dare to utter the word, only gestured toward the palace. “Then you, General, wouldn’t that mean you’d be shut away in the inner palace as the Empress?”

He grinned impishly, and Fang Linyuan almost kicked him. “What nonsense.”

“Yes, yes! A man of your peerless talent could never be shut up in the inner quarters!” Li Cheng’an kept laughing.

Half joking, half serious, Fang Linyuan made a couple of mock strikes toward him, sparring as they walked out of the guard command.

“But then, who’s going to manage all the matters in the harem?” Li Cheng’an asked curiously.

“Every trade has its specialists. Just recruit some female officials to handle household affairs.”

“…Female officials!” Li Cheng’an exclaimed. “So all the rumors outside are true?”

Fang Linyuan tilted his head. “What rumors?”

“That Her Highness the Fifth is going to rule in court as a woman,” Li Cheng’an said. “They’re all saying she’s set on changing the very order of things, and this spring’s imperial examinations might even admit female scholars.”

This, Fang Linyuan had not heard before. But on second thought, he understood.

Zhao Chu, being in the capital, knew even the children’s rhymes sung in the streets. This news was probably deliberately released by him as well.

For some reason, hearing this gave Fang Linyuan a private sense of pride, as though sharing in the honor. The corners of his lips lifted, but the joy felt strangely personal, something he didn’t wish to be seen.

Fortunately, Li Cheng’an noticed nothing.

“But even if women are allowed to take the exams, without having studied the Four Books and Five Classics, how could they pass?” Li Cheng’an mused.

“As long as they can sit for the exam, if not this year, then in the next or the year after, someone will go and study,” Fang Linyuan replied. “Besides, why ask so much? You’re not taking the exams yourself.”

“That’s true.” Li Cheng’an nodded earnestly. “It’s just as well I’ve landed myself an official post. My father used to force me to take the exams every year, as if failing to gain some official rank would bring shame to our ancestors.”

He curled his lip. “But I don’t like studying.”

Fang Linyuan was puzzled. “If you don’t like studying but still want rank, why not take the martial exam?”

“How’s that the same?” Li Cheng’an blurted out.

“How is it not?”

“Those who take the civil exam study to govern the state and aid the people; passing it means becoming an official,” Li Cheng’an explained. “What’s a martial exam graduate? It’s all about fighting skills. Most who take it are wandering martial artists. If you want to make military achievements, you might as well join the army directly.”

Fang Linyuan paused in thought. That was indeed the case. In the military, commanders either rose from battlefield merit or inherited the post from their fathers, as he had.

In chaotic times, one could gain rank through battle. But in a peaceful age, with no wars to fight, standing out in the army was much more difficult.

Thinking of this, a new idea came to him.

Civil officials could be trained and tested—why not military commanders as well?

If capable generals could be cultivated even in peacetime, then when war came they could respond with ease, without scrambling or relying on chance.

And now, in this time of peace, might be the perfect opportunity.

“General? General?” Seeing Fang Linyuan lost in thought, Li Cheng’an hopped anxiously beside him.

Then Fang Linyuan turned and asked, “If taking the martial exam could give you the chance to become a general, would you do it?”

Li Cheng’an froze, then beamed with delight. “General, you’re going to teach me, aren’t you? I knew it!”

“…Huh?” Fang Linyuan was baffled. “Knew what?”

“That following you, I’d eventually learn your real skills!” Li Cheng’an laughed. “When the day comes that I too am ennobled and rewarded in the capital, what glory that will be! My father might even have to bow to me!”

He chuckled smugly.

The corner of Fang Linyuan’s mouth twitched. He glanced at Li Cheng’an a couple of times but said no more.

How had he not noticed before… this fellow was truly an example of filial piety, touching the heavens and the earth.

*

At dusk that day, Shi Shen came in person to the guard command to invite Fang Linyuan.

He had Liuhuo with him.

After such a long and arduous journey, the horse had grown lean; being fiercely loyal to its master, it had hardly tolerated another’s hand.

The moment Fang Linyuan saw it from afar, his heart ached.

“My thanks, Eunuch Shi, for even going out of your way to return my horse,” Fang Linyuan said, taking the reins. Liuhuo’s soft tail swished back and forth.

The horse pawed the ground and nuzzled his head against Fang Linyuan.

Shi Shen bowed slightly and said with a smile, “Your Lordship flatters me. His Highness instructed today that once the prisoner was brought back, you should come take a look.”

Fang Linyuan nodded. He stroked Liuhuo’s mane for a long while, reluctant to ride it out again so soon.

Shi Shen was quick to understand. He immediately had another horse brought, and asked whether Liuhuo should be sent to the Marquis’s residence or directly into the palace.

“Either is fine.” Fang Linyuan patted the horse’s head and handed the reins to the Eastern Depot guards.

He and Shi Shen rode together toward the Eastern Depot, soon stopping before the gates of its prison.

“He’s being held here?” Fang Linyuan asked.

Shi Shen stepped aside to let him go in first and said, “He’s being held here. But please rest assured, My Lord—he’s locked in a cell above ground and has not yet been subjected to torture.”

Fang Linyuan nodded and followed him deep into the cell block.

The ground-floor cells each had a small window for ventilation. Faint daylight streamed in through the bars.

It was here that Fang Linyuan saw Lin Zizhuo.

He looked little different from when Fang Linyuan had last seen him outside the city—still thin and haggard, with eyes clouded over, devoid of light.

“…Linyuan.”

When he saw Fang Linyuan stop outside the cell, Lin Zizhuo was silent for a moment, but still called his name.

Fang Linyuan looked at him and gave a slight nod.

Lin Zizhuo, who had never been fond of smiling, looked at him and showed a faint, bitter smile.

“I really have no face to see you,” he said. “But… on the way back, I heard news from the capital.”

He paused, and the next words seemed almost too hard to get out. “…I am still happy for you.”

But Fang Linyuan shook his head. “There’s nothing to be happy about,” he said. “For one who serves as a general, to be met with suspicion and wariness from the Son of Heaven is no blessing.”

Lin Zizhuo’s gaze faltered. “…I know,” he said. “I—”

“I’m not talking about you,” Fang Linyuan interrupted. “These past days, you’ve warned me openly and in secret—I know. The imperial command cannot be disobeyed—I know that too.”

He paused, his voice dropping lower, yet still steady. “I have never blamed you.”

Lin Zizhuo stared at him blankly.

After a moment, a faint mist welled up in his eyes, his throat tightening, yet he still said, “You should blame me.”

“If our positions were reversed, I might not have acted with as much loyalty as you,” Fang Linyuan replied. “Between loyalty and righteousness, I wouldn’t know which to choose either.”

Lin Zizhuo just looked at him, and after a moment, tears fell in heavy drops.

“During the time I worked alongside you, I…” He choked up. “I knew you were an extraordinarily good man. I… I told His Majesty so, many times… But His Majesty wouldn’t believe it, and I could not be disloyal…”

A tightness rose in Fang Linyuan’s nose.

Lin Zizhuo hadn’t lied once—he knew it. Back when he was imprisoned in the palace, Emperor Hongyou had said the same thing.

But what could be done?

He and Lin Zizhuo were the same—they lived on the emperor’s pay, did the emperor’s work. If the ruler chose to suspect someone, to punish someone, neither of them could change it.

Fang Linyuan pressed his lips together and gave Lin Zizhuo a heavy nod. “I know.”

Lin Zizhuo covered his face and lowered his head, weeping quietly.

Fang Linyuan took a deep breath, turned, and strode quickly out of the prison. If he stayed inside any longer, he feared he would start crying as well.

Shi Shen silently followed, stopping with him outside the prison doors.

“If My Lord wishes, with just one word, His Highness can keep him in the Embroidered Guard,” Shi Shen said.

But Fang Linyuan shook his head.

Now, everyone in court and the streets knew what Lin Zizhuo had done for Emperor Hongyou.

To take a general’s place on the battlefield was already an inglorious scandal—let alone when Emperor Hongyou had now fallen from power. In the eyes of the world, Lin Zizhuo was no loyal minister, but a lackey.

To force him to stay would be to force him to endure the condemnation of all.

When Shi Shen saw him shake his head, he tactfully said no more.

Fang Linyuan stood outside the prison gate for a long time before finally asking, “Did Zhao Chu tell you how he plans to deal with him?”

Shi Shen paused slightly.

Fang Linyuan turned to look at him.

“His Highness gave me a sum of silver and several deeds to farmland, and in addition, a letter of appointment,” Shi Shen said slowly.

Fang Linyuan: “…What?”

“His Highness said that however he is to be dealt with is entirely up to Your Lordship.”

…That, Zhao Chu had not mentioned to him this morning.

But recalling the way Zhao Chu had looked at him when he casually agreed earlier that day, Fang Linyuan understood in an instant—at that moment, Zhao Chu had already made up his mind.

It was just that, among these options for handling the matter… none seemed to be a punishment.

“He didn’t say how he intended to punish him?” After a brief pause, Fang Linyuan still couldn’t help but ask.

But Shi Shen shook his head. “If it’s to be punishment, that too is entirely up to My Lord’s wishes.”

Fang Linyuan understood. What was there left for him not to understand?

Zhao Chu loathed betrayal, and he was not someone who repaid enmity with kindness.

By doing this, he was simply telling him: as long as he accepted it, then even the most intolerable betrayal could be treated as if it had never happened.

So long as Fang Linyuan nodded.

At that moment, Fang Linyuan turned his head to look at Shi Shen. “Then, I’ll trouble you, Eunuch Shi,” he said.

“My Lord, please speak.”

“These three paths—give them to Lin Zizhuo to choose from. Whether it be to hide his name and live in obscurity, to lay down his armor and return to the fields, or to remain in court—let him choose for himself.”

Shi Shen hadn’t expected him to say that, and for a moment was a little surprised. “And My Lord… what about you?”

Fang Linyuan replied, “I’ll be leaving first.”

Indeed, he ought to leave first.

Another man’s fate—no matter how close a friend—once he had chosen to forgive, the road ahead should be left for that person to decide for himself.

He had no need to interfere in another’s life, but Zhao Chu was different.

Zhao Chu had changed far too much for his sake. Their future belonged entirely to each other.

All of a sudden, he found himself unable to wait any longer. He wanted to return at once—

To see Zhao Chu.

 

--

Author’s note:

Shi Shen: A master who gives orders +1, but how did the freedom level suddenly shoot up to +99…

 

 

Translator : DarNan