On the bluestone road, one person walked ahead while another chased behind.

“Xie Chengyu, do you know something?”

“Don’t want to know.”

“Don’t want to know? You have to know anyway.”

He Yun ran forward a few steps and pressed down on Xie Zhifei’s shoulder. “This young master has decided on you.”

“Please, don’t.”

Xie Zhifei lifted off his claw. “I’m not interested in you.”

He Yun pressed down again, using great force, forcing Xie Zhifei to turn around.

“Decided you’ll be my brother. Of all the people under heaven who can be He Yun’s brother, there aren’t many.”

“So what?”

“You’re very fortunate.”

Xie Zhifei was amused by his shamelessness. “Yes, how fortunate I am. Can you let go now?”

“Can’t!”

He Yun became even more shameless. “Today, wherever you go, I go. I’m sticking to you.”

Scram!

This Third Master won’t let you stick!

“He Wenyu, can you do something proper?”

Xie Zhifei’s expression grew serious, his tone stern.

“Hurry back and tell your father everything that just happened in detail. In case the Censorate really has a memorial about him tomorrow, you and your father can think of an explanation tonight.”

He Yun knew these words were absolutely right, but he was absolutely unwilling in his heart.

He couldn’t bear to part.

The way this person had just protected him—it had struck right to his heart, and even now his heart was still pounding!

“Then where are you going later? I’ll come find you after.”

Xie Zhifei was eager to get to Haohanlou and had no time to waste words with him.

“Find what? Tonight I’m on patrol.”

“I’ll accompany you!”

Xie Zhifei’s head throbbed. He blurted out: “Ancestor, spare me!”

Ancestor?

He called me ancestor?

He Yun’s soul flew out, soaring to the ninth heaven. After a long while, his dazed eyeballs finally rotated once.

His soul returned.

Looking up, he was stunned: “Where is he? Where’s my Chengyu?”

“Master, Third Master left long ago. Let’s go back too!”

Right, should go back.

Go back and first complain to Father that his precious son was bullied!

Zhao Yixian, this young master is noting down today’s account first.

The road is long—we’ll see how things go from here.

…

Haohanlou, as the name implied, was a place for brave men to eat and drink. The military officers of the capital all liked to come here.

As soon as Xie Zhifei entered, he saw Zhang Kui waiting inside the door.

“Lord Xie, please!”

The private room was on the third floor. Bu Liu wore ordinary clothes and was already drinking tea.

On the table were eight dishes and two jars of wine.

Xie Zhifei walked over with a smile. “Seems General Bu feels sorry for me.”

Bu Liu put down his teacup: “Why do you say that?”

“I can only handle one jar.”

Bu Liu pointed to the floor, where six jars were neatly arranged.

Xie Zhifei lifted his robe and sat down: “Seems General Bu wants me to drink myself to death here.”

Bu Liu glanced at Zhang Kui.

Zhang Kui retreated to the outer room and gently closed the door.

Bu Liu put down his teacup. “Cut the crap and just say—drink or not!”

“Before drinking, first…”

“You people from noble families just love to jabber. You’re not straightforward at all when doing things…”

Not what?

Bu Liu couldn’t continue.

A strip of blue cloth appeared before his eyes.

Bu Liu’s pupils contracted.

When he threw that little beast to the Northern Office, the little beast was wearing a blue robe.

This trip to the capital, besides getting thoroughly drunk with Third Master Xie, another purpose was to inquire about that little beast’s situation.

He had originally planned to bring it up after three rounds of wine, but unexpectedly Xie Zhifei directly threw out a strip of cloth.

“The person is still alive. Three meals a day, two interrogations. Haven’t dug anything out yet, so the Embroidered Uniform Guard is still investigating deeper.”

Xie Zhifei dipped his finger in some tea and wrote the character “six” on the table.

“Someone wants to implicate this person.”

Six meant him—Bu Liu.

Xu Nian’an was his adopted son. Even though he submitted a memorial of self-reproach the next day, he was still being watched by certain people.

Bu Liu secretly thought this was bad.

This was exactly what he worried about.

Xie Zhifei grabbed a jar of wine, poured out two bowls, took one himself, and drained it with his head thrown back.

“After drinking, General Bu should consider what I’m about to say as drunken words. Drunken words can be heard or ignored.”

Bu Liu looked at him doubtfully.

“I wonder if General Bu has heard of the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s eighteen tortures?”

Xie Zhifei: “I’ve witnessed them. Each one makes life worse than death. Even bones of iron are useless.

The reason he hasn’t suffered inside is entirely because those eighty strokes laid the foundation. The Northern Office people fear killing him, so they’re holding back. But there will come a day when they can’t hold back anymore.”

“Continue!”

“By rights, coming from a military background, he should be a brave man. Plus with my people secretly helping, he could endure it.”

Xie Zhifei changed his tone: “The fear is that he’s not a brave man.”

Bu Liu’s heart leapt up at once.

“Once a person becomes greedy for life and afraid of death, who knows—to save his life, sometimes he might say things against his conscience.”

Xie Zhifei leaned forward slightly, looking directly into Bu Liu’s eyes.

“Especially when induced by someone with ulterior motives, or promised certain benefits.”

Bu Liu looked at his own reflection in Xie Zhifei’s pupils. After a moment of silence, he tucked the blue cloth into his sleeve and picked up his bowl.

“Brother Xie, how about a drink?”

“Good!”

The bowls clinked together. Both men tilted their necks back, the strong liquor flowing down their throats, their bellies burning like fire.

After three bowls in a row, Xie Zhifei felt his head spinning. He quickly waved his hand:

“Can’t drink this fiercely. Need to eat something to cushion it, otherwise this one jar will knock me flat.”

“You eat. I’ll tell you a story—how about it?”

“I love hearing stories most.”

“In the third year of Yonghe, His Majesty sent General Zheng Yu to lead troops to pacify Great Qi…”

Military men telling stories—just four words: crisp and concise.

The story was simple.

In the third year of Yonghe, Bu Liu was a common soldier in the Zheng family army with only three years of service.

He had a sworn brother named Xu An.

When attacking Great Qi’s imperial palace, they encountered a wave of archers.

When a long arrow shot toward Bu Liu, it was Xu An who threw himself over and took that arrow.

Before dying, Xu An entrusted his wife, children, and elderly parents to Bu Liu.

Xu Nian’an was Xu An’s only son.

Bu Liu not only recognized Xu Nian’an as his adopted son, but also took the entire Xu family into his own household to support them.

Xu An’s parents passed away within a few years.

Xu An’s wife didn’t remarry and raised her son alone.

“Widowed mothers often spoil their children. That little beast was pampered by his mother until he was completely ruined. Every time I wanted to discipline him, his mother would bring up his real father.”

Bu Liu’s face showed indescribable pain.

“My hand holding the whip could never bring it down, no matter what.”

Xie Zhifei recalled Xu Nian’an’s disrespectful words toward Bu Liu at the Yusheng Pavilion and frowned: “Has the General married and had children?”

“One wife, two sons.”

“Who manages the household?”

“My first wife manages inside.”

“What’s the relationship like between your first wife and Xu Nian’an’s mother?”

Speaking of this, Bu Liu was simply exhausted and miserable. He downed two bowls of wine in one breath before opening his mouth:

“Originally, my sworn brother’s parents wanted to match Nian’an’s mother with me. I didn’t agree.”

“Why didn’t you agree?”

“There was someone I liked in my heart.”