Chapter 169: Plotting (III)

Xiang Zhijie rubbed the thumb ring that Le Wuya had given him, thinking: his mentor resides in Tongzhou, just a stone's throw from Tonglu. No matter what County Princess Tonglu does, she is still a member of the imperial clan. If his mentor were to avoid meeting her, it would be improper.

Moreover, as early as Nanting, even when separated by a thousand miles, they had long been in contact, trading with each other to build a thriving flower business. It wasn't like they were meeting for the first time today.

What was that flower called?

...Endless Thought.

Ha! What a fitting name—"Endless Thought"!

Since he knew him, who wouldn't think of him?

On the surface, his mentor was showy and unrestrained, but in truth, he valued loyalty and righteousness.

Over the years, he had turned himself into a lone vine.

In the end, he had done his utmost to protect those he cherished.

As for those who had once "colluded" with Le Wuya, led by Jin Donglai, they were hauled out along with him—some stripped of office, some beheaded. Not a single one came to a good end.

Though the Emperor had wanted to bring the entire Le family down with him, Le Wuya had already set up his own household and drawn a line against the Le family, like a clear line drawn in the sand. The Emperor was like a tiger trying to bite the sky—no way to get a grip—and had to give up.

Furthermore, the Le family had decent relations at court, and having not held military command for years, no political enemies were piling on.

Besides, if one insisted on pinning the label of "failure to educate" on him, Le Wuya was still the Emperor's own son-in-law.

To insist on executing all nine generations of his clan, the Emperor couldn't bring himself to do it.

Perhaps the Emperor himself never expected that the secret agent he had planted beside Le Wuya by granting him a marriage to both monitor and win him over would, years later, become a protective charm Le Wuya had set for his family.

For this alone, Xiang Zhijie was grateful to Qi Hongzhuang.

Yet it was also she who had stayed by his mentor's side, witnessing his entire rise to glory and fall from grace.

A ten-mile red bridal procession welcomed her into the mansion; three zhang of white mourning cloth wrapped her in funeral garb.

All of this belonged to Qi Hongzhuang...

Damn it. Absolutely damnable.

Xiang Zhijie was always highly organized, but whenever it came to matters concerning Le Wuya, stray thoughts would suddenly surface and trip him up.

As he walked, he suddenly stopped and gave a self-deprecating little smile.

Mu Jiazhi vaguely felt that the man beside him was completely different in temperament from the "Seventh Prince" at the banquet who had laughed and talked with biting wit.

Seeing him suddenly laugh out loud as he walked, Mu Jiazhi felt even more uneasy.

He silently lowered his head.

Perhaps great men were just this unpredictable.

...

Le Wuya was temporarily unaware of what was happening outside the yamen.

With the big matters settled, he personally walked Qi Hongzhuang out of the mansion gates.

Qi Hongzhuang didn't decline.

As she was about to board her carriage, she thought of something and turned back to say, "When the time comes, can I board the ship and come along?"

Le Wuya was taken aback, not understanding why she had blurted out such a random question: "If you're not afraid of danger, then come aboard."

Qi Hongzhuang quietly regarded him.

Le Wuya was sharp; with a flick of his eyes, he understood her true intent:

The waterways of the south were a crisscross of canals, and sailors had many taboos—one of which was that women weren't allowed aboard, for fear of spoiling luck and ruining the feng shui.

"Come aboard," Le Wuya said without hesitation. "For the first few trips, dress as a man to make things easier on the way. Once the routes are familiar and business is rolling, as long as you pay enough, they'd even obey a dog tied to a post."

That said, the necessary warnings could not be omitted: "Life at sea is hard—food and clothes are never as convenient as on land. You'll need to grow some fruits and veggies and tend them carefully, lest you earn no money and end up with a body full of aches and pains. Besides, even if I send garrison soldiers to serve as boatmen, I can't fully vouch for their characters. These men are in their prime; once aboard and seeing new horizons, their hearts might run wild, and they may well pick up vices like gambling, drinking, whoring, and overeating. Whether to board the ship or not, County Princess, you must weigh it carefully."

"Thank you for the reminder, Prefect Wenren," Qi Hongzhuang said calmly. "From what I know, in the maritime trade, sailors often line their own pockets—either stealing cargo, or swapping goods under the table, passing off shoddy wares as quality. If I accompany the ship, perhaps there will be fewer losses."

Le Wuya: "This has been going on since ancient times—why stop it? A cook who doesn't steal means the grain won't be harvested; one who isn't deaf and blind can't be a patriarch."

Qi Hongzhuang pondered for a moment and gave a slight nod.

These rustic sayings might be crude, but they held a simple, plain wisdom.

She said, "I'll think it over."

However, prompted by Qi Hongzhuang's mention, Le Wuya also realized that these garrison soldiers on the ship indeed needed someone to keep them in check.

The sky is high for birds to fly, the sea is wide for fish to leap—once these men were out at sea and their hearts scattered, it would be all the harder to rein them back in.

Earlier, Le Wuya had been pondering how to mount a cannon on the merchant ship without it being too conspicuous.

If these men merely smuggled and sold the ship's fabrics and goods, that was one thing. But if they got crooked ideas about the weapons and stole his bows, arrows, and cannonballs to sell, that would truly be a disaster.

Either way, he needed someone trustworthy to hold the line.

Le Wuya's mind raced.

Qi Hongzhuang saw his lively, animated expression, and the cunning glint in his eyes was quite reminiscent of someone from the past.

But that vibrant, upward spirit radiating from within was something that person had never possessed.

She felt a stir of emotion and softly called to him, "Prefect Wenren."

Le Wuya looked up: "Hmm?"

"There's too much to thank you for, so I won't say more—let's see what the future brings." Qi Hongzhuang reached out, took his right hand in hers, and gave it a sisterly squeeze. "Eat well, drink well, and live a hundred years without worry."

This plain-spoken wish had nothing to do with business, only warmth, and it caught Le Wuya off guard.

Then, lowering his head, he gave an embarrassed grin: "Got it."

Watching Qi Hongzhuang's carriage recede into the distance, Le Wuya turned around, grabbed the nearest yamen runner, and ordered, "Find Zhong Piaoping for me and tell him to wait for me in the study."

The runner looked bewildered: "Who?"

Le Wuya shot him a glare and amended the order: "Find me the 'Running Chicken'!"

He added, "Don't think I don't know what you lot call him behind his back!"

Zhong Piaoping held no actual post, and his demeanor was as gloomy as a dark cloud. He spent his days with little to do, drifting listlessly through the yamen like a stray cloud with his head lowered.

Except for showing a hint of a smile in front of Yuan Zijin, he barely exchanged words with anyone else, which earned him the nickname "Scuttling Ground-Chicken."

The yamen runner gave an awkward grin and scurried off as if his feet never touched the ground.

Inspired by Qi Hongzhuang, Le Wuya's mind was teeming with wild new ideas that clamored for attention, one notion after another springing up in rapid succession.

He clasped his hands behind his back, paced a couple of circles on the spot, then strode back into the yamen.

But before he had taken two steps, someone gently caught his hand.

Le Wuya started and turned to look.

All the wild ideas in his head ebbed away like a tide in an instant, and his eyes and heart lit up together: "...Oh."

Xiang Zhijie grasped his right hand, his gaze settling on Le Wuya's lips, which were naturally rosy, needing no rouge.

Only with good care and a lively spirit could one have such vibrant vitality.

His gaze, seemingly pure, lingered and pressed on Le Wuya's lips, then Xiang Zhijie looked into his eyes and gave his hand a gentle, firm squeeze: "Good to see you well."

"It's not a festival or anything—why are you here?" Le Wuya led him into the yamen. "What errand are you on?"

Xiang Zhijie answered cleverly: "I meant to ask Father for a task."

That half-sentence sure piqued Le Wuya's curiosity: "'Meant to'? So you didn't manage to get one? Then what excuse did you give to come?"

Xiang Zhijie: "'I missed you.'"

Le Wuya froze, tilting his head slightly: "Huh?"

Xiang Zhijie: "That's exactly what I told Father."

Le Wuya: "...Huh??"

Xiang Zhijie: "I said that Prefect Wenren is a talent that my seventh brother and I worked hard to uncover, and with Tongzhou Prefecture now in such a perilous state, I was truly worried, so I wished to come and see for myself."

"Without bringing Little Seven?"

"Yes, that's what Father asked me." Xiang Zhijie held his hand openly, speaking in a gentle, murmuring tone, "I said I had to come and fight him for you."

...

In front of Le Wuya, Xiang Zhijie spoke as if it were nothing, but when he had said those words before the Fifth Prince and his father, the atmosphere went dead silent.

The Fifth Prince in front had gone rigid, every hair on his neck standing on end, sweating bullets for his blunt younger brother.

Sure enough, after a long moment of deliberation, Xiang Zheng asked with a smile: "Is Little Six trying to make friends with an outside official?"

That's a capital offense!

The Fifth Prince, Xiang Zhiyun, who stood nearby, felt like he'd been struck by lightning; his back was soaked in an instant.

He wanted to pull Xiang Zhijie aside and tell him to stop, but he dared not make it too obvious, so as not to bring more trouble on his sixth brother.

Xiang Zhijie knelt down with sincere respect, his tone steady: "Your son has no such intention."

Yet he offered only that single defense, then lay prostrate on the ground and said nothing.

As Xiang Zhiyun's cold sweat poured down, the emperor on the throne pulled back his probing gaze and sighed softly: "It was just a joke—why kneel? You've just recovered from illness; don't catch a cold. Go on. Go to Tongzhou to clear your head, and when you come back, I have a task for you."

He added: "...That man is talented. I still have big plans for him. Don't scare him away."

Xiang Zhijie rose to his feet, his gaze clear and steady: "Yes."

A completely baffled Xiang Zhiyun accompanied him out of the great hall, and only when they reached a secluded spot did he dare to rebuke him: "Sixth brother, you were way too bold!"

"Sorry, Fifth Brother, for worrying you."

"Alas... You know exactly what Father is sensitive about, yet you keep charging right into it!"

Xiang Zhijie smiled faintly: "Father has too many taboos. Which one do you mean, Fifth Brother?"

"You—!"

Xiang Zhiyun had always thought of his sixth brother as sensible, polite, and mild-mannered; he never guessed that under that calm surface hid a streak of madness that made your scalp crawl: "Making friends with outside officials—what a serious crime! If Father really wanted to punish you, those four words alone would be enough!"

"You worry too much, Fifth Brother. He didn't pass the imperial exams—no pedigree, no family, no faction. Even if you befriended him, one tree can't make a forest; he'd never amount to anything." Xiang Zhijie said, "What I broke was another one of Father's taboos."

Xiang Zhiyun: "...What?"

Xiang Zhijie flushed slightly and broke into a radiant smile: "He suspects I like men."

Xiang Zhiyun: "...." That's even worse, isn't it?!

"Have you forgotten about Zuo Ruyi?" Upset, Xiang Zhiyun had to bring up old wounds, hoping to get his foolish sixth brother back on the right track, "His fate..."

He stopped mid-sentence.

Yes.

Wenren Yue—how could you compare him to Zuo Ruyi?

Zuo Ruyi was just a servant; killing him was no big deal.

Wenren Mingke is a registered official. Getting rid of him at will would chill every scholar's heart.

The emperor sending him to that dangerous place, Tongzhou, was already a huge hardship.

Yet he'd carved out a bloody path, using Wei Yixian's blood to nourish his roots, and firmly stood his ground.

For an official this outstanding, as long as the emperor didn't want to be called a tyrant, he had to treat him well.

That's exactly why the emperor so generously funded Tongzhou.

Besides, from the looks of it, his sixth brother was clearly lovesick over someone who didn't love him back.

He let out a big sigh: "Sixth brother, acting like this... how can you ever please Father?"

Xiang Zhijie looked at his well-meaning fifth brother.

Ever since the Crown Prince died, the position of heir has been empty for a long time.

But everyone at court and beyond knew that the emperor currently favored the Fifth Prince, Xiang Zhiyun.

Though in raising him, he'd created a timid bird that could be molded at will, not daring to have any opinions of its own, the emperor was quite pleased.

Xiang Zhijie knew very well that he intended to seize the position of heir from his fifth brother right in front of him.

Even after enduring years of torment at the Emperor's hands, Fifth Brother may still be unwilling to relinquish the throne.

That gilded throne might well be his only hope and aspiration.

Thus, Zhi Jie gently patted Fifth Brother's shoulder in reassurance.

"I don't need his favor," he said. "I can simply follow my own heart and do what I enjoy."

Xiang Zhiyun knew that his sixth brother, though gifted and refined, had been raised by his noble foster mother and favored Taoist studies, spending his days burning incense and praying, without a good marriage to boost his position, and now with rumors of homosexuality, he was drifting further and further from that grand seat of power.

He sighed, silently patting his sixth brother's shoulder in return, feeling regret that such a gem was left unpolished, yet his taut nerves eased slightly.

...

Zhi Jie mentioned none of these intricate maneuvers and disputes to Le Wuya.

Lowering his voice, he said warmly, "Teacher worries about my illness. So I've brought myself here to show you."