Character Index
Liu Boyue: Xianchun's childhood friend and strategist.
Zhou Xianchun: The Seventh Prince.
Zhou Kuang: The Third Prince.
Zhou Yunqi: The Fifth Prince.
Zhou Mingda: The Sixth Princess, her mother was from the Uyghur clan. She is allied with Kayla, having sent a nephew as a hostage.
Zhou Zhen: The Fourth Prince, he died of illness after being disowned. Though it was believed to be due to the Emperor's anger towards him, Zhou Zhen's demise was largely due to political reasons (the suppression of his maternal clan) rather than personal reasons.
Feng Yi: A good-natured and simple-minded merchant. He was sent by Kayla to sell communication devices in the provinces, with the deliberate intention of his failure, in order to permeate into the provinces and gain a support base there. Due to Kayla's untimely arrest, the opportunity fell to Kuang instead, and Feng Yi (and Shu Ling) were left in custody until Kayla found an opportunity to bring them back on the occasion of her wedding, a reason that Kuang could not reasonably refuse.
Shu Yunsong: Yunqi's maternal uncle, the second oldest brother of his mother. A military man through and through, his frustrations at his family's unjust treatment cloud his judgement of the political situation at court.
Shegui Khagan: Khagan of the Western Turkic Khaganate.
Li Que: A Senior Investigator, Kayla's subordinate and supporter. Bears Kayla no enmity for becoming his superior despite being significantly younger and less experienced.
Chuluo Khagan: Khagan of the Eastern Turkic Khaganate, Kayla's father-in-law.
Yao Gongzhuo: Minister of War, Kuang's supporter.
Wei Guang: Imperial Edict Bearer and Minister of the Office of Censure.
Hu Qing/Liang Hongfei: Lord of the Liang clan, a Vice-Censor.
Ke Yongqian: Hu Qing's retainer, formerly Kayla's retainer.
Xie Rengui: A young man based off the historical general Xue Rengui, with whom he shares only a similar backstory of being inspired to take action by the wisdom of his wife.
Lin Jie: An Attendant Censor with a bad arm. Friends with fellow Attendant Censor Zhang Wuxie.
Sun Zhong'e: One of Kayla's retainers, a middle-aged woman who can handle any role.
Zhou Hong: The First Prince, son of the deposed Empress Gongsun. He was deposed due to political reasons (suppression of the overly-powerful maternal relatives.) He would've been the heir otherwise, being both the eldest and the son of the Empress.
Zhou Yong: The Second Prince, shares circumstances with his elder brother. Would've been second-in-line for the throne after his brother.
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Liu Boyue waited in tense anticipation as Xianchun studiously read the reports on his desk. The prince was so still that he felt as though he were in the same room as a statue, save for that no statue had eyes like that. Finally, Xianchun let the scroll drop to the desk with a plop, and turned the intense gaze he had reserved for the inked characters to Liu Boyue.
Somewhere along the line, Liu Boyue’s respect had come to eclipse his love for his childhood friend. It was no longer possible for him to view Xianchun’s actions with the same levity as before–that had stemmed from security in the prince’s affections. Liu Boyue waited with bated breath for Xianchun to speak.
“Theater troupes,” Xianchun said thoughtfully. “A clever idea. I’m not going to rush headlong into a public opinion war with Kuang, certainly not when his funds vastly outweigh mine.”
“Indeed, my prince. But disillusioned young literati are a force of their own,” Liu Boyue pointed out. “They’d gladly spread support for you without payment, and the energetic vehemence of the young, coupled with their fearlessness, is certain to be effective.”
“It does buy us time and support,” Xianchun admitted. “But it’s not sustainable. Don’t forget, Wenyuan is now the master of the Imperial Investigation Bureau. He can easily monitor the spread of our influence. And if he can monitor it, he can contain it.”
Xianchun’s frown deepened. “But more so than that, he can feed information to Third Brother. The Imperial Investigation Bureau has access to more information than anyone else, and now Wenyuan’s been handed its keys. If Kuang gains access by extension, which he certainly will if he hasn’t already, we’ll slowly be crushed into oblivion.”
“Not to mention that the Third Prince also has his own men within the Bureau while we don’t,” Liu Boyue murmured.
Xianchun scowled at the reminder.
“But knowing Zhao Wenyuan, he wouldn’t share just anything with the Third Prince, would he?” Liu Boyue prompted.
“You mean to make use of that?”
“Precisely, my prince. If we can manufacture distrust between them, the alliance will grow shaky and feeble. If we meet the Third Prince head-on while he secretly has the neutral faction behind him, we’ll be at a disadvantage. The acquittal of the Fifth Prince is a good example of that. Rather than strike at a hard surface, we should seek to sow discord between them,” Liu Boyue said, thinking of the announcement made that morning.
Xianchun smiled sardonically. “With how much Third Brother dotes on Fifth Brother, Wenyuan must look like a savior sent from the heavens right now. Can we find an opening?”
“If we cannot find one, we can certainly make one. Wenyuan has a penchant for conspiracy, I’m sure there’s at least a few loose ends that he hasn’t tied up yet. It’s much easier to drive two people apart when the incident is true,” Liu Boyue said.
Xianchun nodded. “Come up with a few possibilities for me.”
Liu Boyue bowed his head and immediately began scrounging through the reports. The prince, on the other hand, fell deep into thought.
Wenyuan, a penchant for conspiracy? The thought of it was so natural that it was easy to forget there was ever a time when such a notion would have been met with uproarious laughter.
After so many months, Xianchun thought he finally understood what made Wenyuan tick. Xianchun had been disdainful of his spineless cousin for years and years–in the tumult of the Inner Palace, where parents, siblings, and friends were as mercurial as water, even his most faithful friends couldn’t always remain by his side. If anything, Wenyuan’s presence as an object of scorn had probably been the most constant relationship in Xianchun’s life. It made the sudden transformation a jarring experience, but Xianchun had welcomed it. In the changes he saw in Wenyuan, Xianchun saw the possibilities of his own future rather than the murky fog that had always hung over him. Xianchun had wondered at the miracle, and in fact ended up tying quite a bit of his own hopes to it, but the real answer was much more simplistic.
He’s no longer bound by sentiment and duty, that’s all. After all his various theories, the answer had turned out to be the simplest one possible. Wenyuan had simply shed the ties of family like he shed a robe. It wasn’t a bitter break filled with resentment, in which he turned away from his relations in scorn and despair–Wenyuan still leveraged familial ties whenever it suited him. He simply wasn’t restrained by them anymore.
It should’ve been obvious to me from the start, Xianchun mulled. But I guess it takes one to know one. Xianchun had never thought he would be able to cross that line with so little struggle. He’d expected to face some great moral dilemma and agony over becoming enemies with his family members, in the ceaseless attacks between brothers and manipulations between father and son, but it had all come rather naturally. Perhaps the years of loneliness and disappointment had been worth something after all, if they saved him from the tiresome torments of sentiment.
Wenyuan is certainly not tied to Kuang by ties of affection, but he did save Yunqi, Xianchun thought to himself. Unless Wenyuan committed a betrayal, gratitude alone would prevent any singular incident from invoking Kuang’s anger. Then we can only sow doubt into every opening we can find and wait patiently.
It was hardly a noble thing to do, and counted among the many tactics that could never see light. But Wenyuan could hardly blame Xianchun for conspiring when the man was guilty of the same.
A flash of realization zinged through his mind, and Xianchun froze. Liu Boyue glanced up at him in concern.
It’s much easier to drive two people apart when the incident is true–
“My prince?”
Xianchun stared at Liu Boyue for a long moment. “Are you certain the Bureau doesn’t know of your existence?”
Liu Boyue blinked in surprise at the unexpected question. “Yes, my prince. They shouldn’t have reason to take any notice of me.”
Xianchun pondered it for a moment before shaking his head. “Never mind.”
Don’t be ridiculous, there’s no way Wenyuan knew that Liu Boyue was behind that merchant, what was his name again? Even the Bureau doesn’t know–the man would have to be a seer to know the truth.
Xianchun turned back to his work and tried to concentrate. But the seeds of doubt had already taken root in his heart.
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Kayla entered Yunqi’s personal quarters, bowing as the Fifth Prince came into sight.
“Zhao Wenyuan greets the Fifth Prince,” Kayla said. She straightened and saw Kuang, who had only just stepped into her line of sight, immediately bowing again.
“Zhao Wenyuan greets the Third and Fifth Princes.”
“Please forego the formalities, Wenyuan. I’m very glad to see you!” Yunqi said warmly.
Kayla returned his smile. “It’s wonderful to see you in better health, my prince.”
“Thank you, but I can take no credit for it. It’s all thanks to the healers,” Yunqi replied.
Kuang cut in with a smile. “We’re all very happy to see you recover, Yunqi. But I believe our dear cousin didn’t just come here for well-wishes, he has some good news for us, does he not?”
Kayla bowed her head slightly. “Indeed, Your Highnesses. I come to you as the Director of the Imperial Investigation Bureau, to officially notify you that all charges against the Fifth Prince, his household, and Shu Yunsong have been dropped. All parties have been cleared of any and all wrongdoing associated with this case, and the investigation is, as of half an hour ago, permanently closed.”
Yunqi sagged with relief, a genuine look of joy slowly blossoming over his face.
“Thank the heavens! Wenyuan, I am truly in your debt!”
“I was merely doing my job,” Kayla said humbly.
Yunqi rose from his seat and closed the distance between them, clasping Kayla’s hands in his own.
“Wenyuan, you have gifted me coal amidst the blizzard, and done me and mine a favor that is heavy beyond comparison! I will never forget this!”
His eyes are positively sparkling.
“I’m glad to be of help,” Kayla replied.
“Wonderful, isn’t it?” Kuang said lightly. His voice grew more serious as he placed a hand on Kayla’s shoulder. “But Wenyuan, not only my brother, you have done me a great service as well. I will remember this dearly.”
Kayla nodded, a little taken aback by the mixture of confidence and ambition in Kuang’s eyes.
“I only hope to make life a little easier for Fifth Cousin,” she said. “I know that you’re feeling better now, but please continue to take care of your health. This is a sensitive period, the two of you should be careful. Are you employing poison testers?”
She emphasized the latter part meaningfully, hoping to impart as much as she could about the Emperor’s shifting attitude without giving any false hope.
“You’ve done more for my health than you can imagine! I thank you for your kind concern,” Yunqi replied. “Worry not, we both take great pains to ensure the safety of the food served to ourselves and our family members. It’s not infallible, of course, but few attempts can escape notice.”
“But it only takes one successful attempt,” Kuang said. His eyes glimmered briefly with something akin to satisfaction. “Wenyuan’s reminder is well-noted. Both of our households could benefit from better protective measures.”
“Of course,” Yunqi readily agreed. Realizing that they were still standing, he quickly ushered everyone into seats.
Maybe I should warn Xianchun as well, and Princess Mingda too, Kayla thought absently. She doubted Xianchun would appreciate it, but Mingda probably would.
“I heard about the change in healers,” Kayla said. “We’ll keep an eye on those Imperial Healers at the Bureau, but they’re outside of our jurisdiction unless we can prove any wrongdoing, and we can’t do that without definite proof of harm.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Yunqi hastily said. “Please don’t drag your men into such trouble for my sake, I’m alright now.”
“Then…” Kayla stopped, not knowing how to phrase it delicately.
“The Imperial Healers acted professionally,” Yunqi replied. “They just misdiagnosed me. I’m fine now.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Misdiagnosed? I bet that’s what happened with the Wise Consort too. No wonder she hasn’t recovered her health despite having access to the best medical care in the country.
“I’ll be blunt here, do you suppose Grandmother will take offense?” Kayla asked. “There’s a limit on how much I can monitor the Inner Palace, but the Bureau can take other measures against retaliation.”
“I don’t know,” Yunqi said at the same time Kuang replied “Yes.”
The two looked at each other, and Yunqi shrugged, deferring to Kuang’s judgment.
“Grandmother doesn’t care for any of us,” Kuang explained. “You were probably the only one she actually loved as a grandchild.”
Kayla smiled thinly at the use of the past tense.
“When First and Second Brother begged her for protection, she agreed and lulled them into a sense of false security, and then abandoned them without hesitation,” Kuang said. “Not to mention poor Zhen. Of course, she was acting purely out of political considerations, and Father was too, but even without extenuating circumstances, we’re all disposable to her.”
Kayla felt a chill go down her spine. She understood Kuang’s words all too well–the sinking dread of realizing that you were just a piece on the board, and one about to be sacrificed at that.
Then Kuang’s underestimating the Empress Dowager, Kayla thought dimly. The first time she risked my life as bait, I was still in her favor. She’s more pitiless than Kuang thinks, but by god is that woman a good politician.
“Then I’ll keep an extra eye on any changes in suppliers and personnel, not just here, but in any place that either of you or your households might come into contact with,” Kayla said. “And of course, on the safety of your in-laws.”
Kuang inclined his head slightly. “Thank you, Wenyuan.”
Kayla nodded in response. She chatted with them a short while longer before taking her leave, with the excuse of letting Yunqi rest. The real reason was the subtle warmth on the talisman tucked in her inner robes, signifying an urgent report from the Bureau.
“To the Bureau,” she ordered as she got on the carriage. She waited until they were a short distance away from Yunqi’s household before drawing the curtains and opening her communication device. Kayla’s eyes narrowed as she took in the messages.
The Bureau had several levels of urgency that intel was divided into. The highest level intel were priorities for national security, and necessitated immediate reports to the high-ranking members of the Bureau, and to the Imperial Palace. Any communication and physical infrastructure, or government personnel, could be appropriated to gain such intel or ensure its delivery. Others necessitated immediate reports, but without the same stipulation for appropriating infrastructure; still others didn’t necessitate immediate reports to the Imperial Palace, and so they declined in urgency until reaching intel that only needed to be reported within the month.
But two events that necessitated immediate reports had come in–the first one necessitated a report to the palace, the second one did not.
Shegui Khagan has launched an offensive into the Eastern Turkic Khaganate. No declarations of war have been made.
Kayla stared at the report for a long moment. Is this why Ashina asked me to call her father tonight? Trepidation crawled up her spine. Kayla shuddered and turned to the second report.
The vegetable supplier of Sir Zhou Hong and Sir Zhou Yong has died of a stroke and is to be replaced by his nephew.
Kayla turned her attention back to the matter of Shegui Khagan, moving for her communication device.
“Director,” Li Que’s voice answered almost immediately.
“I’ve received the news. What is the situation on Shegui Khagan? Is the Emperor aware?”
“His Majesty has been notified, perhaps you should go straight to the palace,” Li Que offered.
“Good idea, hold on.” Kayla opened the window and called out to the horseman.
“Go to the palace instead, make it look natural,” Kayla ordered. The horseman nodded in response. She drew the window shut again.
“So Shegui Khagan?”
“Was ambushed as soon as he crossed the border last night. Chuluo Khagan had evidently anticipated this,” Li Que said. “However, Shegui Khagan seemed to have anticipated the ambush to some extent and was not taken by surprise. He withdrew immediately with few casualties.”
“Where was this?”
“Around Olgii, they clashed just Northeast of the Altai Mountains,” Li Que helpfully supplied.
“How reliable is the information? First-hand or second-hand?”
“Second-hand, but one of our agents has headed over to confirm the news,” Li Que said. “We’ll hear from them once they’ve done so.”
“Who else knows?”
“Only the core staff of the Bureau and the Emperor. But Minister Lin will probably receive a report soon.”
“Keep an eye on him. The second he learns of it, pack him off to me.”
“Understood.”
A wise man ought not to stand beside a collapsing wall. Kuang will know once Wei Guang knows anyways, and the Emperor will surely call Wei Guang over for advice. It’s better for Kuang if no openings exist for Yao Gongzhuo to report this, or someone will definitely grab onto it. Even if Yao Gongzhuo doesn’t say anything, any open window of time between his learning the news and his reporting to the palace will be viewed suspiciously. Best if I remove that for him altogether.
Kayla’s thoughts flitted to Ashina. “I suppose that with the marriage alliance, they’ll ask for military aid?”
“Not necessarily. No formal declarations of war have been made just yet. They may still come to an understanding.”
Damn it, did this happen in the original timeline?
Kayla realized that she had no idea.
“What do you think, Senior Investigator?”
“Even if there is conflict, the Emperor will likely send a delegation to act as peacemakers first,” Li Que said. “But since Chuluo Khagan is the ruler of an allied country, we protect our own interests by making sure the Western Regions are secure. If it comes to it, we’ll probably end up sending forces.”
“I see. I’m almost at the palace now, tell the men to keep a close eye on the spies of both Khagans–if we’re to make any moves, we’ll net all of them in first,” Kayla ordered.
“Understood. And should I communicate this information to anyone? The news hasn’t been publicized yet, but if there’s anyone that should know,” Li Que prompted.
Kayla mulled it over for a bit. She knew that Li Que really meant Wei Guang. “I’ll ask His Majesty first.”
“Of course.”
She ended the call and immediately sent two messages, one to Hu Qing, one to Ke Yongqian. Hu Qing’s clearance wasn’t high enough to loop him in–ironically, he would’ve been included if he were still Kayla’s retainer. Instead of sending a message that could incriminate Hu Qing, Kayla picked out every other character and arranged it into a semi-coherent message before sending it to Hu Qing, and did the same with the rest to Ke Yongqian.
I would just call him, but he can’t receive a call privately in the office without someone taking note, and I won’t be able to see him until tonight at the earliest. A message from his household would raise less attention. But will he even get it if I send it like this?
Kayla shook her head in frustration and sent off two more vague messages just in case.
Your lord, she sent to Ke Yongqian. Kayla nodded, satisfied. He would get it.
Kayla mulled over what the least-incriminating message would be for Hu Qing to be caught with.
Use your brain more, she sent to him.
The carriage pulled to a stop at the palace, and Kayla put the device away.
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Ke Yongqian frowned at the message from Wenyuan.
This message makes no sense.
His mind flashed to the incident where Wenyuan had babbled in nonsense for a few moments after falling ill, but that were the case, the other retainers would’ve noticed. Ke Yongqian would be receiving updates from one of his former coworkers, not the Duke himself. He was only confused for a moment before resolutely deciding to make it Hu Qing’s problem instead.
If it was sent to me, that means it can’t be sent to the lord by communication device. Ke Yongqian quickly jotted the message on the paper, including the “Your lord” part just to be safe. He hastily sealed it with wax and also a talisman for the same reason.
“Xie Rengui!” Ke Yongqian called. A young man came running into the room.
“Yes sir?”
“Take this to the Lord. Be discreet about giving it to him, just say you have a message from his household–if anyone insists on specifics, say it’s from his brother,” Ke Yongqian ordered. “Don’t let him open it unless it’s in private, do you understand? And don’t even think about reading it, or I’ll break every last damn bone in your body.”
Xie Rengui nodded, his face as earnest and affable as ever. “Understood, I’ll definitely see it done!”
Ke Yongqian waved the man off, and Xie Rengui left as quickly as he had come.
“Don’t run too fast!” Ke Yongqian shouted after him. “You’ll make people suspicious!”
Xie Rengui slowed into a jog as he rounded the corner. Ke Yongqian let out a sharp sigh, hoping he hadn’t made the wrong choice.
Xie Rengui was a strange man–the provincial farmboy had abruptly abandoned his filial duty of relocating his ancestors’ graves after seeing Wenyuan’s delegation pass through the village, apparently at the prompting of his young wife. The young man had an open face that seemed to trust in anyone, and people trusted in him easily in turn. That had been how Xie Rengui had ended up chatting with Feng Yi, the unlucky and gullible merchant under Wenyuan’s patronage.
Almost immediately after, Xie Rengui had come to Ke Yongqian.
“Sir Feng was supposed to get his wares destroyed, wasn’t he? He didn't mess up,” Xie Rengui had asked almost the second they were alone.
“What?” Ke Yongqian could still remember how taken aback he had been. “What the hell are you saying?!”
“I didn’t say anything to him. Sir Feng seems happier to have a magnanimous Duke to look up to, after all.”
“What the hell do you want?”
“An opportunity,” Xie Rengui had replied. “If it so pleases you.”
He’s risking his life for an audition? Is he brave or stupid?
“You’re a bold one, aren’t you? Do you realize what kind of situation you’re in right now?”
The farmboy hadn’t been fazed. “A dangerous one, I suppose?”
Ke Yongqian had seriously considered getting rid of him, but after interrogating Xie Rengui as to how he’d pieced the truth together, Ke Yongqian realized that the man was too talented to kill. It helped that Xie Rengui looked and often acted like an overgrown boy, eliciting fond exasperation rather than suspicion from anyone who saw him.
Sending Xie Rengui, Ke Yongqian sent to Hu Qing.
All well? The reply came almost too quickly. Ke Yongqian knew without a doubt that Hu Qing was worried for Wenyuan again.
Yes. Item delivery.
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Hu Qing glanced at the message before turning back to the healer, who was apologetically bowing to Lin Jie.
“I’m very sorry,” the healer repeated, sounding genuinely regretful.
“Please don’t be. Rather, I’m very grateful to you,” Lin Jie replied.
“If I had been there at the time of your birth, this could’ve been fixed. But as things stand now, it’s far too late,” the old man said mournfully, stroking his white beard.
“Then it must be fate,” Lin Jie said. “Thank you so much, good sir.”
“It can’t be helped,” Hu Qing jumped in. “Your payment, sir.”
“I can’t accept this, I didn’t do anything,” the healer protested.
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s terribly unfortunate that Attendant Censor Lin’s arm can’t be fixed, but that doesn’t deny you your rightful compensation–please, don’t place me in a position of dishonor,” Hu Qing pleaded.
“Well goodness, I certainly–”
“I insist,” Hu Qing said firmly, pressing the money into the old gentleman’s hand. He was growing increasingly certain that this man had grown famous but destitute for a reason.
“Thank you,” the healer said sheepishly.
Another back-and-forth of thank yous went down between the healer and Lin Jie before the two of them walked the healer out of the building.
“Really though, sorry about your arm. At least it’s unlikely to get worse,” Hu Qing said apologetically.
“Not at all, sir. Thanks to you, I even got a prescription for the tremors. Thank you for going to so much trouble for me,” Lin Jie said, bowing to Hu Qing.
“Don’t be ridiculous, all I did was drop some coin and drag some poor old man into a breakroom,” Hu Qing said in mock indignation. It successfully elicited a wry smile from his stoic colleague.
“Then I thank you for that,” Lin Jie replied. Hu Qing waved him off. He glanced up as a familiar face rounded the corner.
Isn’t that the boy Ke Yongqian poached from Sun Zhong’e? Xie Rengui was in fact older than Hu Qing, as his file indicated, but he looked so boyish that Hu Qing was disinclined to believe it.
“My lord,” Xie Rengui greeted him, before bowing slightly at Lin Jie. “Attendant Censor.”
“Ah, you brought me my things?” Hu Qing asked casually.
“Yes, my lord. Shall I…” Xie Rengui glanced discreetly at the building.
“Come on, let’s go in,” Hu Qing said. A flash of instinct made him glance over at Lin Jie. “You too.”
Xie Rengui didn’t say anything, but managed to communicate that it was a bad idea without so much as twitching a muscle. Hu Qing ignored him. The three of them returned to the empty breakroom–it was usually occupied by at least one or other person at a time, but everyone was avoiding the place at the moment, knowing that two of their superiors were in there.
Hu Qing stood against the farther wall, Lin Jie silently standing a respectful distance away, with Xie Rengui standing at just an angle to block Lin Jie from seeing anything on the document. Hu Qing broke the seal and stared at the message, mentally matching its garbled nonsense to the concerning message from Wenyuan.
Use your brain more? The ridiculous rebuke was making sense now. Hu Qing easily recognized the simple code Wenyuan had chosen. It was used commonly enough among members of the underworld, as despite its simplicity, it was near impossible to know what the full message was so long as even one of the message-bearers evaded capture.
The fact that the messages were short made things much easier. Hu Qing nodded at Xie Rengui.
“Light the stove,” he ordered. Xie Rengui quickly did so and opened the window for good measure. Hu Qing carefully burned the letter, making sure that any remaining scraps were thoroughly destroyed. Xie Rengui went about retrieving incense to mask the scent and wiping away any ashes on the floor.
Hu Qing met the eyes of Lin Jie–the man was as unmoved as a pool of still water despite witnessing the whole process. He made his decision, compelled by a deep-rooted instinct and the simple understanding that Lin Jie couldn’t betray Wenyuan or Hu Qing without utterly destroying himself and his family.
“Attendant Censor, what I am about to say to you must not be repeated to a third person,” Hu Qing said, staring into the man’s eyes. “Go home, Xie Rengui.”
The young man complied. Hu Qing waited until he was out of earshot before closing the windows and leaning in.
“Are you faithful to your patrons, Lin Jie?” Hu Qing asked.
“If I was not, you certainly wouldn’t have helped me to this extent,” Lin Jie replied. Hu Qing scrutinized the man’s face and found it completely open. His face pulled into a smile.
“The vegetable supplier for the First and Second Prince has died of a stroke,” Hu Qing said softly. “Now, what do you make of that?”
Lin Jie’s words immediately affirmed Hu Qing’s instincts. “I say conspiracy.”
Hu Qing’s smile widened. “I do too. Keep an eye out for that while you go through the reports, will you?”
“As you wish.”
“Again, secrecy,” Hu Qing warned him. Lin Jie nodded.
“Please be assured, I will guard this secret with my life.”
“Good.” Hu Qing stepped back, his voice returning to normal. “Why don’t you wind down a bit before going back to work? Drink some tea or whatnot.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Hu Qing nodded and left Lin Jie alone in the breakroom.
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Cultural Notes
离间计/Strategy of [sowing] discord: An Ancient Chinese phrase referring to strategies and gambits aimed at sowing discord between your enemies.
见不得光/Can't see the light: A Chinese phrase referring to underhanded things that you want to keep covered up. Usually holds very negative connotations.
雪中送炭/Giving coal in the snow: An Ancient Chinese proverb meaning to give help to someone when they need it most.
乌列盖/Olgii: A city in the Bayan-Olgii province of Mongolia. Chinese historical records of what places outside the border were called often differed greatly, so I'm going with modern-day place names, or as historical a name as I can reliably find.
阿尔泰山脉/Altai Mountains: A mountain range that spans from Central to East Asia, at where the modern-day borders of China, Russia, Mongolia, and Kazakhstan converge. The Eastern and Western Turkic Khaganates were approximately divided between the East and West of the Altai Mountain range, with borders moving back and forth over time.
君子不立危墙之下/A wise man does not stand beneath a collapsing wall: An Ancient Chinese proverb meaning that a wise man foresees and mitigates risks.
西域/Western Regions: An Ancient Chinese geographic concept that refers to anything west of the Jade Gate/玉门关, located in modern-day Gansu province. This included Central Asia, but sometimes expanded as far as Persia, Eastern Europe, and North Africa. It also included parts of India that could be reached from routes that went West from the Jade Gate.
陷我于不义/Place in in a position of disloyalty/dishonor: A Chinese saying that means to compromise someone's loyalty/integrity/honor. Hu Qing's purposefully being over-dramatic in this context.
静如止水/Calm as still water: A Chinese proverb.