The night was cool as water, with shimmering ripples reflecting off the red-lacquered pillars of the waterside pavilion.
The figure standing inside the pavilion had his back turned, hands clasped behind him, his dark robes blending seamlessly with the thick night.
"Lord Li, have you decided how to word the memorial to the capital?"
A deep voice carried from the pavilion, laced with the chill of the night breeze.
Li Huaian replied respectfully, "Naturally, I shall report the truth to His Majesty."
As the Army Supervisor—the emperor's eyes in the northwest—he was duty-bound to relay all frontline military developments to the capital without delay.
Xie Zheng turned around, his phoenix eyes sharp and piercing. "As the Army Supervisor stationed in Chongzhou, Lord Li, are you not also accountable for the rebels slipping out of the city under cover of night?"
Li Huaian remained in his bow, his wide sleeves swaying in the lakeside wind, maintaining the dignified composure of a noble scholar.
He nodded. "Indeed, this official failed in his supervisory duties. I shall truthfully report to His Majesty and request punishment."
The wind by the lake was strong, and the two men stood a zhang apart, their hair and robes fluttering in the night breeze.
Xie Zheng, half a head taller, looked down at the man before him, who remained in his deferential posture.
He remained silent for a long while.
With his stern demeanor concealed beneath that coldly refined face, no trace of emotion escaped him, leaving others unable to guess his thoughts.
Yet the pressure Li Huaian felt did not lessen in the slightest.
He couldn't help but discreetly study the young man standing a zhang away.
Ennobled as a marquis before the age of twenty—one could say he was heaven's favored son.
Before the Battle of Chongzhou, Xie Zheng had never known defeat, nor had he ever tempered his edge. Everyone knew he was the sharpest blade in Great Yin.
But now, he no longer flaunted his brilliance. Instead, he resembled a weathered cliffside rock, enduring wind and sun yet still standing unyielding.
Xie Zheng asked, "Lord Li, as a man of great learning, you must have heard of 'Fighting South of the City'?"
Though they were of the same generation, Li Huaian inexplicably felt the same tension he would before his grandfather.
Suppressing the turmoil in his heart, he met Xie Zheng's gaze calmly. "What does the Marquis wish to say?"
Xie Zheng replied, "I would like to gift Lord Li two lines from 'Fighting South of the City': 'Soldiers perish in the wilds, generals' efforts come to naught. Thus we know war is a tool of slaughter, used only when the sage has no choice.'"
His tone was icy, each word striking heavily upon Li Huaian's heart.
Though he had suspected as much, hearing it spoken aloud still made Li Huaian's pupils contract sharply.
He truly knew everything!
Guilt and the terror of his family bearing eternal infamy now that the truth was uncovered tore at him, drenching his back in cold sweat in an instant.
Xie Zheng stepped out of the pavilion, pausing slightly as he passed Li Huaian. "I hope Lord Li will reflect deeply upon this poem."
Even after Xie Zheng had walked far away, Li Huaian remained motionless where he stood.
From the moment his grandfather had conspired with the imperial grandson to overthrow Wei Yan, he had known many would die.
But compared to toppling the Wei Faction and purging the corrupt court, what did the deaths of a few soldiers in this remote northwestern frontier matter?
When had any great reform ever been bloodless?
Minor reforms prioritize the people, with law as secondary. Major reforms prioritize the law, with people as secondary.
To truly overthrow Wei Yan, a great upheaval was necessary to breathe new life into Great Yin's decayed bureaucracy.
If people were secondary, then sacrifices were inevitable.Yet after Xie Zheng uttered those words about "the sage using force only as a last resort," Li Huaian found himself unable to muster even the courage to argue that it was for the sake of upholding the empire.
From Chongzhou to Lucheng, he had followed the army's march, witnessing firsthand the brutality of war—mountains of corpses and rivers of blood.
To overthrow Wei Yan, they had personally orchestrated a living hell.
Covering his face with his hands, Li Huaian suddenly let out a sorrowful, bitter laugh.
He thought—they had been wrong.
Xie Zheng had just returned to his temporary residence when Xie Shiyi hurried in with a report: "Master, we've secretly arranged for Zhao Xun to examine Sui Yuanhuai's corpse. As you predicted, the dead man isn't Sui Yuanhuai but a body double raised by his side since childhood."
Lan Shi, who had once served the Crown Princess, was meticulous in her planning. After the fire in the Eastern Palace, she had prepared a body double for Sui Yuanhuai as a precaution.
Not only did the double resemble Sui Yuanhuai in stature, but to avoid detection by the prince's household, even his scars had been meticulously recreated—burn marks painstakingly branded onto his skin to match Sui Yuanhuai's own.
Sui Yuanhuai had endured excruciating pain to gradually replace his burned skin, preparing for the day he might reclaim the throne, while the double remained permanently scarred.
After all, those serving in Sui Yuanhuai's courtyard were all Lan Shi's people, and with Sui Yuanhuai's notorious reputation for cruelty, other servants in Changxin Prince Manor dared not approach his quarters.
He rarely appeared in public, and even when meeting the Princess of Changxin, he wore a mask.
Thus, for years, almost no one in the entire manor had seen Sui Yuanhuai's true face.
It seemed Lan Shi had prepared the double from the beginning for this very moment—to execute the golden cicada shedding its shell and escape Changxin Prince Manor.
Xie Zheng removed his dark outer robe and handed it to the personal guard at the door without a word.
Xie Shiyi cautiously added, "Zhao Xun also inspected the captured mother and son. He confirmed they aren't Sui Yuanhuai's concubine and only child either."
Seating himself behind the desk, Xie Zheng poured himself a cup of tea. "I know."
The woman by Sui Yuanhuai's side was Yu Qianqian. When the pair was captured, he had gone to see them immediately—they weren't Yu Qianqian and her child.
Previously unaware that Sui Yuanhuai's attack on Lucheng was a ruse, Xie Zheng now realized Sui Yuanhuai had long prepared for this escape.
Even the doubles for Yu Qianqian and her son had been arranged from the start.
Had Xie Zheng not arrived in time, Lucheng would have fallen. Though Tang Peiyi's reinforcements would eventually retake the city from the ragtag defenders, countless lives would have been lost in the interim.
Sui Yuanhuai would never restrain his forces—he wanted Lucheng to become a wasteland of suffering after its fall.
Only then could the censors wield each tragedy as a blade in their denunciations, pinning Wei Yan to these atrocities that would outrage both heaven and mankind.
Understanding this, Xie Zheng's expression grew even colder.
Misinterpreting his displeasure as frustration over Sui Yuanhuai's escape, Xie Shiyi said, "Xie Yi and the others are scouring the city inch by inch. They should find them soon."
But Xie Zheng ordered, "Recall them first."
Perplexed, Xie Shiyi asked, "Marquis, why?"Xie Zheng's dark eyes reflected the shadows of the two candle flames on the bronze stand: "Sui Yuanhuai has long been connected with the Li family. Since Zhao Xun hasn't returned yet, if he's cautious enough, he won't seek refuge with the Zhao Family after escaping. His only option is to seek shelter with the Li family first. If he doesn't show himself voluntarily, searching would be futile."
Upon hearing this, Xie Shiyi immediately realized the situation was more complicated than it seemed. He asked, "Marquis, does that mean we can only wait now?"
Xie Zheng countered with another question instead of answering: "Is the Princess of Changxin also dead?"
Xie Shiyi nodded: "She was found in the tent along with the decoy corpse of Sui Yuanhuai. Both died by suicide."
"Suicide"—naturally, to avoid being captured alive and interrogated.
The generals pursuing the deserters could confirm the corpse was Sui Yuanhuai not only because of the luxurious attire and burn marks but also because the Princess of Changxin lay dead beside him.
That Sui Yuanhuai had brought the Princess of Changxin with him even after fleeing Chongzhou showed he had planned for every contingency.
Xie Zheng said, "Pass this news to Sui Yuanqing."
Xie Shiyi, the youngest among Xie Zheng's personal guards and less composed than Xie Wu and the others, scratched his head and asked, "Marquis, Sui Yuanqing is now just a prisoner. Even with this grudge of matricide, what use is telling him if we can't find Sui Yuanhuai?"
Xie Zheng only replied, "Just do as I say."
His words to Li Huaian earlier tonight had been deliberate.
Li Huaian didn’t know how much Xie Zheng had uncovered, only that their plan had been exposed. He would surely try to contact Sui Yuanhuai to discuss countermeasures.
All they needed was to keep a close watch on Li Huaian and wait for him to reveal Sui Yuanhuai’s hiding place.
Just as Xie Shiyi was about to leave, he suddenly remembered another urgent matter and hesitated before speaking: "Marquis, about Miss Fan... I've also gathered the details..."
Moonlight filtered through the gauze window into the chamber, casting a silvery frost across the floor.
On the bed, the young woman's dark hair spilled across the pillow as she lay on her side, deep in slumber.
In the armchair by the window, a figure who had sat silently for an unknown length of time cast a slender shadow in the moonlight before the bed.
Xie Zheng held the bloodstained gauze Fan Changyu had discarded, quietly observing the slight figure beneath the thin quilt.
She had grown much thinner, her body covered in countless wounds large and small.
Curled on her side, she resembled a leopard ever-vigilant even in sleep.
Xie Shiyi’s words echoed in his ears: "When the rebel army pressed against the city walls, Miss Fan feared Lu City wouldn’t hold. She volunteered to challenge the rebel generals alone to buy time. It’s said she claimed to be Meng Changyu, descendant of General Meng Shuyuan of Changshan, willing to die to uphold her ancestor’s honor."
"The sixteen rebel fighters she faced wielded exceptionally ruthless techniques, unlike ordinary soldiers. Outnumbered, Miss Fan fought one against sixteen and nearly lost her life..."
Each word weighed heavily on Xie Zheng’s heart, making it hard to breathe.
A sharp, lingering pain spread through his chest, and his throat itched. Afraid of disturbing her, he covered his mouth and suppressed a cough.
The thought that she had truly gone out intending to die—that had he arrived a moment later, she would have been nothing but a cold corpse beneath the city walls—suddenly unleashed a fury and dread that roared through his very bones.
The bloodied gauze she had discarded during her dressing changes in the laundry basket now seemed unbearably glaring.When he first saw her during the day, her wounds had already been bandaged, showing no obvious signs of injury. It was only after hearing from Xie Shiyi that she had fought against more than ten Martial Assassins under Sui Yuanhuai's command that he realized what she had endured.
Those Martial Assassins by Sui Yuanhuai’s side were originally left to the Crown Princess by the late Chengde Crown Prince. After the Crown Princess perished in the flames of the Eastern Palace, the Shadow Guards pledged their allegiance to Sui Yuanhuai—each one a peerless master, with few surviving encounters against them.
Xie Zheng felt his teeth ache with a dull throb, as if insects were gnawing at his veins. The veins at his temples bulged, and even the pain from his reopened whip wounds on his back faded into insignificance.
The realization that she had nearly died was like the nightmares that had haunted him throughout his youth, now awakened and gripping him once more.
Nothing else mattered—as long as she was alive.
In the darkness, Xie Zheng pressed a hand to his throbbing temple, his pale face appearing cold yet indescribably striking under the moonlight. His dark eyes remained fixed on the sleeping Fan Changyu.
Perhaps sensing his overly oppressive gaze even in her dreams, the woman curled slightly in discomfort.
Xie Zheng gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering near her cheek—as if yearning to touch her yet restraining himself with great effort. In a whisper, he said, "In this world, no one has the right to take your life."
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