AFTER A COUPLE GOOD HOURS of coaxing, Zhu Shunzi had spilled everything to Xiahou Lian.
Zhu Shunzi had first come to the capital as the young heir of a rural landlord, intending to take the imperial exams. After four or five years of attempts, however, he wasn't even close to being listed among those who'd passed.
With nothing better to do, he spent his time in teahouses, listening to storytellers who claimed that anyone who joined the Eastern Depot could become a high-ranking official within two years. They said that people even cleared the way for Eastern Depot officials during grand processions. Determined, Zhu Shunzi signed up and became one of the Eastern Depot's despised eunuchs. As it turned out, he'd been misled. After a year and a half, there was no sign of a promotion; he languished in his lowly position, barely better than a street thug.
In his quest for success, Zhu Shunzi spent a fortune to get close to Wei De, hoping to impress him with the same petty cunning he'd used when stealing corn and catching loaches as a boy. Coincidentally, when Zhu Shunzi managed this, Yan Xiaobei was there as well. Yan Xiaobei was a clerk in the Eastern Depot's Hare Division, and his family ran an herb shop. Zhu Shunzi belonged to the depot's Ox Division, so while he and Yan Xiaobei had crossed paths before, they'd never spoken much. All Zhu Shunzi knew was that Yan Xiaobei was regarded as an exceptional swordsman, and that his practice matches on the training grounds always drew thunderous applause.
That day at the depot headquarters, Zhu Shunzi and Yan Xiaobei knelt before Wei De, begging for additional responsibilities. Wei De had lifted his eyelids, brushed tea foam from the lid of his cup, and said, "Do you know what Shen Jue looks like? Good. Go and bring me his head."
They didn't manage to bring back Shen Jue's head, and they'd nearly lost their own while trying. Even now, Zhu Shunzi shuddered at the memory of their assassination attempt. He kept brooding over the unpredictability of Shen Jue's swordplay. Not only was Zhu Shunzi no match for Shen Jue, even Yan Xiaobei hadn't lasted more than five moves against him. The two had fled in panic; fortunately, Shen Jue's servants weren't there, so he hadn't pursued his attackers.
Shen Jue was a genius at the blade—Xiahou Lian had known that since childhood. He didn't say anything more to Zhu Shunzi, and the two parted at Yunxian Tower.
Zhu Shunzi went home to pack his belongings, while Xiahou Lian took the opportunity to help A-Chu dispose of Yan Xiaobei's body. After that, he caught up with Zhu Shunzi at the city gate, and they rode swiftly along the official road to Jiading. They set off at dawn, passed three relay stations, and changed horses three times, reaching the Shili Village post station by nightfall.
It was just a rural post station, not very large, consisting of a main hall and back hall, five side rooms, and ten stables in the rear. In the pitch-black night, the only sources of light were the faintly glowing red lanterns hanging at the red gate. They'd traveled a dozen or so meters more before they could make out any other houses. Inside the station hall were a couple of glossy, black lacquered tables. Atop one sat a small oil lamp; tiny insects flew mindlessly into its flame, burning to ash. It looked like they were the only officials staying at the station. They ate, then each retired to a separate room; both were exhausted from riding all day, and Zhu Shunzi was already struggling to stay awake.
But Xiahou Lian couldn't sleep. He lit a lamp and repeatedly examined the letter Wei De had trusted them to deliver to the prince of Fu. For the sake of secrecy, the envelope bore no name and was sealed with wax. It was light as a feather in Xiahou Lian's hand; there was probably just a single sheet of paper inside.
Something felt off.
The prince of Fu, the eldest of the princes, was said to be overweight, with an impaired leg. His title had been conferred ages ago, but he'd long delayed his move to his designated fiefdom. Only after the criticism of the entire court became unbearable did he finally bid farewell to the emperor and empress and reluctantly depart for his domain. Meanwhile, the second prince, a mere ten-year-old, was still running barefoot around the palace. With the emperor on his deathbed, Wei De likely wanted to seize the chance to return the prince of Fu to the capital. That said, the notion that he'd send two puny, vulnerable ants on such an important mission was rather ridiculous. He surely would've dispatched a ranked official at least.
Pondering the situation beneath the lamplight, Xiahou Lian decided to split off the next day and head to Nanjing to find Shen Jue.
A fierce wind blew outside, pushing the window open. The relay station stood high on a hill, overlooking forested slopes where trees swayed and surged like waves in the gusts. Leaves skipped across the hillside, rustling loudly. The pale-yellow moon was half hidden behind heavy clouds and soon disappeared from sight. Xiahou Lian leaned his forehead against the window lattice and stared into the pitch-black night. It had been years since he last saw Shen Jue, and he knew their old bond had dissolved long ago. Although once inseparable, they were now sworn enemies. A storm of emotions churned inside Xiahou Lian as he wondered how he would face Shen Jue when he arrived in Jinling.
Forget it, he thought. Worrying about it won't help, anyway. With that, he went to bed.
In a drowsy haze, he heard a commotion downstairs—men's occasional shouts and the clanking of armor, as well as the sound of the wooden stairs outside creaking underfoot.
Then footsteps stopped just outside his door, and—with a loud bang—someone kicked it open. A whip cracked through the air with a sharp snap, slicing forcefully toward Xiahou Lian. He jolted in shock, trying to scramble from the bed, but he wasn't fast enough to dodge—the whip lashed his back, producing searing, stinging pain. He tumbled to the floor and tried to roll away, but the whip chased him relentlessly, audibly snapping; it seemed almost alive. Xiahou Lian grabbed a stool and used it to block the next strike; the whip hit the stool so hard it stripped off a layer of lacquer. Seizing his moment while the whip recoiled, Xiahou Lian swung the stool with all his strength against his attacker's temple. Then, not wasting a second, Xiahou Lian picked up another small stool and used it to pin the man against the wall.
The glint of blades flashed behind him. Xiahou Lian turned his head to see a group of Embroidered Uniform Guards draw their sabers and point their blades straight at him. The flying fish embroidered on their dark uniforms gleamed so vividly they were almost grotesque.
Xiahou Lian furrowed his brow. Had Yan Xiaobei's actions been exposed? Was the Embroidered Uniform Guard there to arrest him?
"Let go," growled the man with the whip, nodding toward the stool pinning him to the wall. He wiped his forehead and hissed sharply through his teeth, "How dare you hit your senior? You must not want to live."
Zhu Shunzi rushed in from outside, his robe still disheveled. "It's a misunderstanding! Just a misunderstanding! Oh, no—why are you fighting?" Zhu Shunzi pulled Xiahou Lian aside, took out a handkerchief, and pressed it against the injured man's forehead. "I understand that my brother here has offended Commander Gao with his actions, but I beg you, sir, please have mercy and let it slide this time! Look at my brother here—he didn't know any better!"
Commander Gao glared at Xiahou Lian with clear malice. "Who are you? Give me your name. I'd like to know who the hell has the nerve to hit their own superior."
"And who are you?" Xiahou Lian asked, raising an eyebrow. "My venerable self was sound asleep when you barged in, swinging your whip without any cause. What's your problem?" He scanned the room, which was crowded with members of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. "Bullying me just because you've got more people?"
Zhu Shunzi jabbed Xiahou Lian, frantically signaling him with his eyes.
Commander Gao held up his badge. "I am Gao Sheng, squad commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. The magistrate of the Southern Surveillance Bureau is my godfather, and Wei-gonggong is my god-grandfather. And just who the hell are you to spout such nonsense at me?"
"No, no!" Zhu Shunzi hurried to appease him, smiling nervously. "He's just a bit slow. He doesn't think things through—please don't take offense!"
In the current empire, civil and military officials alike scrambled to curry favor with Wei De. Those who couldn't worm their way into becoming his godsons settled for becoming his godsons' godsons, thus happily taking on the role of his god-grandsons. In just a few years, Wei De's "filial godsons" and "virtuous god-grandsons" had multiplied across the land, creating an unusual sight: three generations of such a family all beneath one roof.
He's just a lapdog, Xiahou Lian grumbled internally.
"We're with the Eastern Depot, and we're carrying out Wei-gonggong's orders," Xiahou Lian said, deliberately emphasizing "Wei-gonggong" for effect as he tossed Yan Xiaobei's badge onto the table.
Sure enough, Gao Sheng hesitated. He glanced at the Eastern Depot badge and clenched his jaw in frustration.
"You see, Commander Gao, we're all on the same side!" Zhu Shunzi said, wearing a fawning smile. "Why make things difficult for each other? Now that everything's out in the open, there's no problem—no problem at all!"
Gao Sheng shoved Zhu Shunzi aside and sneered coldly at Xiahou Lian. "You stole my room, but fine. Since you're working for my god-grandfather, I'll let it slide."
"Your room?" Xiahou Lian retorted with a smile. "Does it have your name written on it?"
"This is the only premium room in the Shili Village relay station. You think someone like you has the right to sleep here?" Gao Sheng stepped aside and continued. "Forget it. I won't argue about this anymore. My brothers and I have been traveling all day, and the station is small and fully occupied. It's a shame, but there's no room for you two. You'll have to find somewhere else to sleep—perhaps the forest will do!"
"Fine, fine!" Zhu Shunzi said, tugging on Xiahou Lian's sleeve. "It's just a matter of relocating ourselves, isn't it?"
For a long moment, Xiahou Lian stood where he was, silent and unmoving. The Embroidered Uniform Guard's members stood with their arms crossed, watching the two men with scornful expressions.
Gao Sheng walked past Xiahou Lian, deliberately bumping his shoulder as he sneered in a low voice, "You're just a pair of stray dogs—you two can hole up anywhere."
Xiahou Lian raised his eyes to look back at Gao Sheng, his dark gaze unsettling in its intensity.
Zhu Shunzi grabbed his hand. "Calm down, Old Yan!" he whispered. "Calm down! We can't cause trouble here!"
Xiahou Lian stood there silently for one more moment before turning to take his clothes and bag from the rosewood rack and his goose-quill saber from the wall. He pushed past the Embroidered Uniform Guard and walked out. Zhu Shunzi hurried to his own room to grab his bundle, then chased after him, calling out, "Slow down! Old Yan, slow down! Wait for me!"
They fetched their horses and left the relay station, trotting along the main road. Zhu Shunzi sighed. "Rank means everything—even a difference of one level is staggering. Besides, he was Wei-gonggong's god-grandson. Let's just shrug it off, all right?"
Xiahou Lian understood; that was why he'd swallowed his anger. The world was what it was. In these recent chaotic years, he'd been the lowest of vagrants, enduring endless scornful glances, and he'd borne them. After all, he was no longer the reckless assassin he once was; now, he avoided drawing blood whenever he could.
Tilting his head back to look up at the night sky, he said nothing.
"I once thought about finding myself a godfather or great-godfather too," said Zhu Shunzi.
Xiahou Lian glanced sideways at him. "Why didn't you?"
"Back when Shen Jue was still in power, I tried sucking up to him, but I guess his standards were too high. He kept his distance—in fact, he completely ignored me!" Zhu Shunzi punctuated his words with an exaggerated toss of his head. "But Wei-gonggong has a sharper eye for talent. I'm lucky Shen Jue didn't take me in—if he had, I'd probably be suffering alongside him today."
Stunned by the sheer shamelessness within the Eastern Depot, Xiahou Lian said nothing more. The pair rode slowly along, eyes peeled for another place to stay the night.
Suddenly, light flared behind them, a hubbub echoing faintly in the distance. Xiahou Lian turned his head to see flames bursting from the direction of the relay station, lighting half the sky. Zhu Shunzi froze in shock, but Xiahou Lian tensed, vigilant, and ordered, "Into the forest, quickly!"
They urged their horses into the woods. Xiahou Lian dismounted and climbed a tree, shielding his eyes as he peered toward the post station. In the flickering firelight, he saw black-clad assassins with white masks moving swiftly in the chaos. The flames cast a bloodred glow on the masks, making the assassins look like demons bathed in blood and fire. The post station's attendants fled, screaming, only to be caught and have their throats slit. The Embroidered Uniform Guard fought back, but they were no match for the assassins; they fell one by one into the flames, which consumed their garments and bodies.
Zhu Shunzi trembled in fear. "G-Garden assassins!" he stammered.
"No—they're not using the Garden's saber arts," Xiahou Lian said, frowning.
"How do you know?" Zhu Shunzi asked in surprise.
Xiahou Lian didn't answer. Instead, he pulled the envelope from his pocket and tore it open.
Zhu Shunzi panicked, trying to stop him. "Have you lost your mind?!"
Dodging Zhu Shunzi's hands, Xiahou Lian shook out the letter. Zhu Shunzi was dumbfounded—it was completely blank.
He snatched the letter and scrutinized it. "Did you grab the wrong one?"
Xiahou Lian just looked at him silently.
"This can't be! Why would it be blank? Wait… I know! It must be in invisible ink!" Zhu Shunzi declared confidently. "I've heard that you need to pour water on that to reveal the writing." After a moment of hesitation, he undid his belt and urinated on the paper. A minute later, the paper was soaked and falling apart—but still blank.
"What is going on?" Zhu Shunzi wailed.
"What else could it be? We were tricked!" Xiahou Lian said, pinching his nose shut. Judging by the reek of his urine, Zhu Shunzi must have some kind of infection. "That old bastard Wei De never intended us to escort the prince of Fu to the capital. We're just decoys, meant to draw attention while someone else secretly meets the prince."
"You mean those assassins were after us?"
Xiahou Lian nodded. "Luck was on our side. If the Embroidered Uniform Guard hadn't chased us away, we'd be dead right now."
Zhu Shunzi was shaken. Xiahou Lian slid down the tree he'd climbed and remounted his horse. "Quick—before the assassins figure things out. Let's go."
"Where?"
"To Jinling!" Xiahou Lian said, spurring his horse forward, his black clothes blending into the night.
They rode south. The scorching summer sun left them dizzy and exhausted, but still they pressed on. They didn't dare stay at any more post stations, so they slept in the woods each night, and were bitten half to death by mosquitoes. They rode throughout the day, bushes scratching at their ankles. The foliage was deep green, almost dripping with color, and the sky was a pale duck-egg blue; its thin clouds looked like embroidery on a blue robe.
Zhu Shunzi, miserable, sighed constantly. No wonder—his once-in-a-lifetime benefactor, Wei De, had essentially sacrificed him. Zhu Shunzi's dreams of promotions and wealth had evaporated, and now he was struggling just to survive.
Xiahou Lian, on the other hand, seemed unfazed, as if this misfortune hadn't affected him at all. Zhu Shunzi stole glances at him, sensing that "Old Yan" was different from before. The previous Yan Xiaobei had been quiet, but only because he didn't have much to say. Now, his silence had a cold edge, and when he smiled, it was tinged with deep, unspoken sorrow. Zhu Shunzi supposed that something must've happened in his family—maybe the death of his wife, or of one of his parents.
"Hey, Old Yan. How did you know those assassins weren't from the Garden?" Zhu Shunzi asked, making conversation.
"I saw real assassins a few times, back when I was wandering the jianghu," Xiahou Lian replied vaguely.
"Oh." Zhu Shunzi rode alongside him. "The Garden's been lying low for the past few years. The Garden Ghost Registry stopped after the Wuminggui. It's a shame; I was really getting into it. Did you ever meet the Wuminggui?"
Xiahou Lian shook his head.
Zhu Shunzi was about to ask more when the sound of hoofbeats reached them from afar. A group of riders emerged from a cloud of dust. Xiahou Lian and Zhu Shunzi reined in their horses and watched from a distance.
The riders were extremely formidable men, their black robes clinging tightly to their muscular frames. Each looked like a sheathed blade ready to be drawn, its sharp, unstoppable edge prepared to be unleashed.
Xiahou Lian frowned. "Eastern Depot agents?"
Zhu Shunzi's eyes lit up. Before Xiahou Lian could react, he spurred his horse down the hill, shouting, "Wait! Wait!"
These Eastern Depot agents on the official road could be the real escort team Wei De had sent to the prince of Fu. Even if they weren't, traveling alongside them would make the decoy team harder for the assassins to track down again.
For once, Zhu Shunzi's slow mind had worked quickly. He'd charged down the hill like an arrow without any explanation to Xiahou Lian, leaving his companion reaching out after him in vain. Xiahou Lian hesitated for a moment, then followed, unwilling to abandon the reckless fool.
The group of riders heard the shouting and stopped. Zhu Shunzi rode up and, clasping his hands excitedly, gushed, "Thank you for waiting for us, Your Excellencies. We are—"
Xiahou Lian caught up and interrupted. "We're members of the Embroidered Uniform Guard rushing to Jiading on official business. My humble self is Squad Commander Gao Sheng, and this is Deputy Zhu. Here is my badge." Xiahou Lian handed over a badge, which one of the agents examined and returned.
As Xiahou Lian tucked the badge back into his pocket, Zhu Shunzi stared in shock. When had his companion taken that from Gao Sheng? Still, he caught on quickly and added, "Right, right! Just yesterday, my colleague and I encountered bandits on the road and nearly lost our lives. How fortunate to run into fellow officers now! Might we travel together for a stretch? It will be safer for all of us."
The agents were silent, their expressions opaque as they scrutinized the two men. Zhu Shunzi continued to smile obliviously, but Xiahou Lian was on edge.
He really wanted to smack Zhu Shunzi's thick skull. These obviously weren't ordinary agents; they were nothing like the bumbling fool beside him. Their scabbards and clothes were stained with dried blood, evidence of dark deeds.
Were they Wei De's men? Or—
Suddenly, the agents parted, and a man rode out from the group. His face was chiseled like stone, every line hard and cold. He frowned, looking utterly indifferent.
"No. Turn back," the man said icily, leaving no room for argument.
Zhu Shunzi's face fell. He opened his mouth to plead, but Xiahou Lian stopped him with a look, signaling that it was time to leave. Zhu Shunzi hesitated, still hoping to convince the riders, when a cool, clear voice emerged from the group, low and flowing like a hidden spring.
"Don't be rude, Situ. If they're friends from the Embroidered Uniform Guard, we should help them."
Xiahou Lian turned, his gaze piercing the crowd to land on the figure at the back.
The man who'd spoken was turned away, but even in the same black robes the others wore, he carried himself with a loftiness that set him apart. It wasn't just strength or elegance—it was an indescribable arrogance. The man turned slightly, revealing the brushstroke-like upward curve of his eyes. His gaze was cold, betraying a subtle, detached apathy.
"We're also heading to Jiading," he said. "If you like, we can travel together for a while."