THE RULES OF SHUPU were easily grasped. After watching Feng Xiao and Ming Yue's next game, Cui Buqu understood well enough. The game didn't rely only on strategy—luck was needed as well. Cui Buqu turned out to be fairly lucky and won the first match.
Ming Yue still had business to finish, so he excused himself after a round. Feng Xiao and Cui Buqu sat together in the garden, surrounded by the sweet scent of osmanthus. Sunlight trickled through the pale yellow petals. The autumn sun bathed them in its meager warmth, and the fragrance of flowers drifted on the breeze. But the heart of the tableau was the pair sitting beneath the tree: Where people were, the bustle and vigor of life followed.
The gameboard sat upon a stone table polished to a spotless gleam. Even the jade-green teacups at the side of the board rippled like a clear emerald spring.
Naturally, these items all belonged to Feng Xiao. Ming Yue knew his boss too well—he'd bought a new tea set and washed it thrice with boiling water. Otherwise, Feng Xiao would doubtless complain about some imagined speck of dust at the bottom of his cup until the end of time.
Cui Buqu held a bowl of millet porridge, sipping as he played. The warmth flowed from his throat to his stomach, revitalizing his body slowly but surely. He was a much more adaptable creature than Feng Xiao. If there was no other food to be had, someone could hand him a bowl of congee mixed with gravel. As long as he was hungry enough, he'd placidly lift the bowl and eat.
A little less than half a bowl later, he was beginning to feel full. His hand holding the bowl paused, and he looked at the board, frowning.
Feng Xiao arched a gleeful brow. "I won."
Cui Buqu remained impassive. "It's only the second round."
In that case, the final round would be the decisive one. These were men who spent their days flirting with danger, crossing mountains of blades and seas of flame. Countless rare treasures had passed through their hands, yet now, they were getting fired up over a tiny bet. Cui Buqu was determined to get his hands on those names, while Feng Xiao never lost any bet he wanted to win.
Tasks discharged, Ming Yue returned to watch the match. The moment he reached the courtyard entrance, he stopped in his tracks.
Not only had Feng Xiao lost his previous spiritedness, he now looked grave. He looked at Cui Buqu, then down at the game board. His expression shifted.
What happened?
Ming Yue looked at them in bafflement, wondering if he ought to step into the crossfire or stand aside and enjoy the show. He swiftly chose the latter. Ming Yue stared keenly at the board and watched as Cui Buqu's glass game piece crossed the finish line first.
Chief Cui won, Ming Yue thought to himself.
Feng Xiao had always been self-assured to the point of arrogance; he rarely suffered defeat. No wonder he seemed displeased.
"This isn't your first time playing shupu. You're far too comfortable with these little tricks." He snorted.
"Why do you say that?" Cui Buqu drawled, his fingers drumming against his porcelain bowl. His mood had lifted considerably.
Feng Xiao watched his fingers. If he'd known about this little tic earlier, perhaps he'd have had a better read on Cui Buqu's intentions during their previous debates. Well, it wasn't too late to start now.
"This is just a friendly game, yet you use such tricks? Don't you find it unbecoming, Daoist Master Cui?" Feng Xiao was somewhat incredulous.
"All's fair in love and war." The corners of Cui Buqu's eyes crinkled as he broke into a rare genuine smile. "Best two out of three, I believe you said. Since I won, I expect you'll keep your promise and hand me the names as soon as possible."
"One more game."
"I'm tired."
Of course Cui Buqu wouldn't give Feng Xiao the chance to turn things around. He rose languidly and walked back to his room to rest.
At last Ming Yue approached. He eyed Feng Xiao, who sat with one leg crossed smugly over the other, waving his fan. It was as if a peacock's vibrant tail was poised behind him, ready to unfurl at any moment. "You lost to him on purpose?" Ming Yue asked.
Feng Xiao yawned. "When you want something from someone, you first need to offer something in exchange. Understand?"
"I don't."
"That's why I'm number two and you're number three."
The corner of Ming Yue's mouth jumped. "Cui Buqu is a clever man. Don't you think he knows you meant to lose?"
"So what if he does?"
"If he knows and played along anyway, then he's unconcerned with your intentions and only cares about the list of names. Sir"—at this point, Ming Yue shot him a sympathetic glance—"I don't know what you want from Cui Buqu, but it's clear he doesn't care for your plans at all."
Feng Xiao's fan froze mid-wave, and he stared at Ming Yue. "Lao-San," he said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, "why do I feel you've suddenly gotten a bit smarter? You're not an impostor from the Thirteen Floors of Yunhai, are you?"
Ming Yue didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "It's called an objective observation," he replied. "Which I can make, because I have no horse in this race. You always look down on others; even the Prince of Jin is no exception. It's rare for you to show any vulnerability, even for the sake of your schemes."
"Speaking of the Prince of Jin," said Feng Xiao. "Since Yuxiu earned his trust, there's a chance others from the Thirteen Floors may be loitering around the prince and his family. The matter I asked you to look into—how did it go?"
At the change of subject, Ming Yue sobered. He shook his head. "The crown prince seems to be in the clear. But it's not easy for the Jiejian Bureau to intervene in palace affairs. The Zuoyue Bureau must also be doing their own investigations. The empress places significant trust in Cui Buqu; he may have already uncovered something. You seem to be spending more time together these days—you should ask him."
"I did. After the incident with Yuxiu, the empress ordered a thorough investigation of the palace. They turned up a few suspicious individuals, but nothing connected to the Thirteen Floors of Yunhai. If we take an optimistic view, Xiao Lü's reach doesn't extend as far as we feared. But if we look at it pessimistically, he has entrenched his pieces so deeply that locating them will take time. Either way, there's someone I need you to keep an eye on once we return to the capital."
"Who?"
Feng Xiao didn't keep him in suspense: "Princess Leping."
Understanding dawned on Ming Yue. "You suspect some rebels evaded capture after the thousand-lantern banquet—you think they're still lurking around her?"
"Whether they are or not," Feng Xiao said evenly, "we can't relax our surveillance of the princess's residence. Both inside and out."
***
The moon waxed and then waned. Qixi had long passed, and the Mid-Autumn Festival was drawing near.
Since the day Great Sui was founded, the emperor had chosen to disregard the old systems of the previous dynasty, prioritizing change over convenience. He implemented sweeping reforms: relocating the capital, enacting new laws, and reducing taxes to stimulate national recovery. Though everyone anticipated an eventual war between Sui and the Khaganate, the prices of everyday goods—firewood, rice, salt, and oil—weighed more heavily than any faraway threat on the minds of most. As the new dynasty and its policies took effect, the people found themselves with more wealth in their pockets. The common folk had more to spend on food and festivities, and the streets and alleys bustled with their preparations.
But among the officials and nobles, the prevailing topic was not the upcoming Mid-Autumn Festival, but Princess Lanling and County Duchess Yuwen.
Princess Lanling had always been meek and obedient to her parents. But rumors now swirled that when the empress had brought up the subject of marriage, she'd boldly requested to marry Feng Xiao, the deputy chief of the Jiejian Bureau. While it was no secret that Princess Lanling had taken a fancy to Feng Xiao, no one thought she'd dare to propose marrying him to the empress herself. Coincidentally, Feng-er had recently returned to the capital. Many were eagerly awaiting his response, hoping for a bit of scandalous entertainment.
As for Duchess Yuwen, the chatter about her was, unsurprisingly, of a similar nature. The duchess was of marrying age, but her situation was more complicated than that of Princess Lanling. Her mother, Princess Leping, was determined to find her daughter the perfect husband, yet she disdained all the suitors willing to marry Yuwen Eying, considering them beneath the girl. At the same time, the few men who met her stringent criteria had no interest in marrying her daughter.
As a result, Princess Leping visited the palace often, turning to her supremely capable mother for help. Empress Dugu was happy to see her daughter more frequently. She had many children, but it was her eldest daughter who received the lion's share of her love and attention.
It was to her mother's great sadness that, despite her lofty status, Princess Leping's life had been a difficult one. She'd lost her husband and had no sons; her only child was her daughter, Yuwen Eying. Princess Leping's parents would eventually pass away and leave her; once her daughter married, the only person she could rely on would be her brother, the future emperor.
Contemplating her daughter's circumstances, Empress Dugu's heart swelled with compassion. Princess Leping laid her head on her mother's lap, and Empress Dugu stroked the raven hair beneath her fingers, anguish washing over her at the strands of gray mingled within the black. Like any mother, she loved her children dearly. Even as she held the title of one of the Two Saints, even as she immersed herself in government affairs, she remained a mother—and in this case, one burdened by a guilty conscience.
"I've heard you've practically gone cross-eyed trying to pick a husband for Eying. There are so many eligible men out there—have none managed to catch your eye?" she said lightly. "Could it be you're like A-Wu, hoping for Feng Xiao as your son-in-law?"
Princess Leping shifted her head on her mother's lap. She was no longer a young woman, and the loveliness of her face couldn't conceal the lines at the corners of her eyes. Yet no matter her age, in front of her mother, she remained the sweet girl who'd forever revered her parents. This was something time would never change.
Princess Leping smiled. "Feng-erlang is a fine man. He's a peerless martial artist and a talented official—I don't blame A-Wu for being drawn to him. If I were ten years younger, perhaps I'd feel the same!"
The A-Wu they discussed was of course none other than Princess Lanling, Yang A-Wu, who'd fallen hopelessly in love with the deputy chief of the Jiejian Bureau.
The empress smiled back. "Unfilial daughter! How can you call yourself old in front of your mother? You're young yet, and the eldest princess of this dynasty. If you've found a good man, simply tell your father and me. Why suffer so?"
Princess Leping's expression darkened, but she remained silent.
"If you don't wish to remain a widow," Empress Dugu said evenly, "you ought to seek a talented consort who can stand openly by your side. Carry on like this, and sycophants will flock to you, hoping to use you as a stepping stone for their own rise. You'll face more incidents like the one at the thousand-lantern banquet."
Abruptly, the princess dropped to her knees. "Mother! That incident was my fault—I endangered both the crown prince and the Prince of Jin. If anything should happen to them, I couldn't atone even with a thousand deaths! I promise, it will never happen again!"
The empress sighed and reached down to help her up. "I don't blame you, and neither does your father. You are too hard on yourself. Yuwen Yun is long gone; you owe him nothing, and there's no need to remain a widow for him. Consider this: If your new husband belongs to one of the seven great families, his status will overshadow that of Eying's father. Over time, people will forget; they will no longer bring it up."
"Mother! Lately I keep thinking. If only I hadn't married Yuwen Yun, how wonderful everything could have been!" Princess Leping fell into her lap again and sobbed quietly.
Empress Dugu was harsh and imperious, while her eldest daughter was soft and meek. The two couldn't have made a greater contrast. Even so, the empress had an endless well of patience for the eldest princess. "Silly child, the past is behind us; there's no need to dwell on it. If you don't wish to remarry, I won't force you. But you've looked at so many talented men for Eying. Don't you have any favorites?"
Princess Leping shook her head. "Everyone is lacking. Eying… She's too naive, easily swayed by others. I just want her to be safe, happy, and carefree for the rest of her life."
Empress Dugu mulled this over. "In that case, her husband must be clever and powerful, someone who can protect her. Here's a thought—what about Cui Buqu?"
Princess Leping's head jerked up in shock.
Back to the light, Empress Dugu looked down at her, expression difficult to discern.