As daylight brightened, the fighting in the forest subsided, but the troops did not disperse.
“Checkpoints have been set up along the routes,” reported a scout from the front.
“Are they searching for mountain bandits?” Mu Mian Hong asked.
The messenger shook his head: “It seems they’re looking for Western Liang spies.”
With talk of both suppressing bandits and Western Liang spies, Mu Mian Hong said: “It seems this road won’t be easy to travel.”
It wasn’t that they couldn’t proceed, but it would waste too much time. Mu Mian Hong’s brows furrowed.
“Besides mountain bandits and Western Liang spies,” Xie Yanlai said, “we can assume other identities.”
Other identities? Mu Mian Hong looked at him.
Xie Yanlai gazed ahead. Although that person overlooked the chessboard, she had advanced step by step to where she was now, still managing to secure a chance of survival that couldn’t be easily broken.
…
…
Outside the Yi Zhan in Bei Caozhen, the continuously galloping troops stirred up layers of dust on the road. Even standing inside the relay station, people were coughing from the choking dust.
“Postmaster Xu, Postmaster Xu,” a postal runner came from behind carrying a teapot. “The tea you wanted is ready.”
Postmaster Xu didn’t bother to cover his mouth and nose, but quickly turned to protect the teapot: “Fool! Why bring it out in all this dust? This is my only pot of tea!”
The postal runner looked embarrassed, gazing at the troops rushing past outside: “Why are there so many soldiers? How many Western Liang spies could there be?”
The relay station was the most well-informed place. They had received urgent orders last night, which were then passed along the routes.
Postmaster Xu narrowed his small eyes with a meaningful look. Apart from the official news, as the station master, he had learned of another piece of information that hadn’t yet spread.
The Emperor’s maternal family, the Xie clan, had their residence in the capital surrounded, with troops stationed there and everyone confined. At the same time, General of Records Liang’s family was also surrounded – yes, the same Liang clan that had once been surrounded before and had just been restored.
Western Liang spies? Postmaster Xu took a sip of tea. Who knew if the Empress was really investigating Western Liang spies or just finding an excuse to eliminate the Xie clan?
That young girl, since their last meeting at the relay station just a few short years ago, was now on the verge of dominating the entire realm.
He wondered if she still remembered him. The thought suddenly popped into Xu’s mind, but he immediately brushed it away. Better that she didn’t remember him; those who crossed paths with this Lady Chu rarely met good ends.
As he was lost in thought, seven or eight people came galloping up. Instead of passing by the relay station, they stopped and entered.
Military messengers? Postmaster Xu thought as he looked over. This group wore dirty, disheveled military uniforms with scarves wrapped around their faces, exposing only their eyes. But there was nothing strange about that – soldiers wrapped their heads and faces in winter to avoid the cold and snow, and in summer to block the sun and dust.
The postal runner had already gone to greet them.
Military messengers also needed to verify their identities, but the postal runner spoke with them briefly before returning with a strange expression.
“Postmaster Xu,” he said, “they don’t have official documents or waist tokens.”
No official documents or waist tokens? Postmaster Xu’s small eyes immediately sharpened, and his plump body tensed. Currently, troop movements were all about catching spies – whether they were actually spies or someone else.
Troops wouldn’t move without reason.
And guards without official documents or waist tokens wouldn’t appear without cause.
He, Xu, hadn’t been a postmaster for over thirty years for nothing – this fat wasn’t grown for no reason—
“They gave this,” the postal runner continued, producing a seal. “They said they’re carrying secret orders.”
Postmaster Xu looked down, his gaze freezing. It was a seal carved with the character for “phoenix,” and what made it worse was that he had seen this token before. About two years ago, when new relay station order templates were sent down, along with various verbal and written commands, there was also a secret order.
“This phoenix seal pattern,” the military messenger who came to deliver the news had said solemnly, pointing to the design for him to memorize, “represents the Empress’s secret orders. Special personnel will use it.”
But he had never seen it used until now.
“Postmaster Xu, is this real?” the postal runner’s voice asked beside his ear. “What secret orders are these?”
Postmaster Xu tensed even more.
Troops wouldn’t move without reason.
And guards without official documents or waist tokens wouldn’t appear without cause.
He, Xu, hadn’t been a postmaster for over thirty years for nothing – this fat wasn’t grown for no reason—
When the celestial beings above fought, he couldn’t meddle, especially when it involved that girl.
Postmaster Xu took a deep breath and said: “What orders could they be! Of course they’re imperial orders!” He glared at the postal runner, stuffing the seal back to him. “Secret means not to be questioned, not to be spoken of! Just follow the rules and attend to them!”
The postal runner, sprayed with tea, quickly acknowledged and scurried back.
Postmaster Xu still kept his distance. As the postmaster, he wasn’t responsible for receiving guests in the first place, and at this moment, he was even less inclined to approach. He simply sipped his tea, watching this group of people from the corner of his eye.
Those people were saying something to the postal runner.
Though not close enough to hear, Postmaster Xu could guess: they wanted horses and provisions, no stopping, immediate departure. This was also normal for military messengers, and the postal runner was accustomed to it, calling other attendants to prepare what they needed.
As they were speaking, another group arrived. This time not military guards, but local officials and servants – a whole crowd of them.
“Postmaster Xu—” the leading official called out before even entering.
Postmaster Xu hastily put down his teapot and went to greet him: “Superintendent Qi, why have you come in person?”
Superintendent Qi, dressed in official robes and on horseback, had to maintain a proper appearance – he couldn’t use an umbrella or wrap his face. He was sunburned red, sweating profusely, and covered with a layer of dust, looking quite miserable.
In this peak of summer, Qi would normally never set foot outside his door.
“What else could it be, but these sudden orders to suppress bandits and investigate spies—” Superintendent Qi said irritably, his gaze sweeping around and noticing the people standing in the relay station. “Postmaster Xu, are there any unauthorized persons here?”
Postmaster Xu smiled and said: “Our place couldn’t accommodate unauthorized persons; these are all military messengers.”
Superintendent Qi snorted: “You used to receive plenty of unauthorized persons before, such as—”
Postmaster Xu hurriedly bowed to interrupt him: “Please don’t bring up those old matters, Lord Qi. After that one incident, how would I dare to entertain any more unauthorized persons?”
Recalling the events of that year, Superintendent Qi also felt somewhat emotional, and strangely excited – he had nearly caught the Empress with his own hands—
“Lord Qi, please come in and sit,” Postmaster Xu invited. “From here, you can watch the checkpoint and conduct strict inspections.”
Qi certainly didn’t want to remain outside. Following Xu’s suggestion, he dismounted and entered, instructing the others: “Question everyone thoroughly here.”
Postmaster Xu led Superintendent Qi inside. As he stepped into the main hall, he glanced back and saw in the courtyard those soldiers without identification who had gathered supplies, and a dozen or so fine horses brought over as reserves. They were preparing to mount, and one of them looked up, meeting Postmaster Xu’s gaze.
That gaze was as sharp as an arrow. Postmaster Xu’s heart trembled, and he quickly looked away, hearing the clamor of horse hooves and shouts as the group departed.
Only then did he look up again, seeing the dust rolling up on the main road.
That pair of eyes, with upturned corners, deep black like a profound pool or fine jade.
He had seen them before.
Those eyes, that girl, right here in his relay station—
Later, he had paid special attention to that military messenger but never saw him again. He remembered this messenger was called A-Jiu, and when he secretly inquired, he received a frightening piece of information.
That A-Jiu was a member of the Xie family, Xie Yanlai.
Later, this name became increasingly well-known.
Until his death.
“Postmaster Xu, what are you doing?” Superintendent Qi called from inside.
Postmaster Xu gave a start and came back to himself, quickly responding, “Coming, coming,” as he stepped forward. But he didn’t notice the threshold and stumbled over it.
Superintendent Qi laughed heartily inside: “Are you alright? Have you grown so old that you can’t walk steadily?”
Postmaster Xu laughed it off: “My lord, please don’t say that. This old man still wants to serve for a few more years.”
Indeed, he did want to serve for a few more years, so those past events and people – he couldn’t remember them clearly. He had forgotten.
He hadn’t seen anything. He knew nothing.
…
…
In the capital, no troops were rushing about. Except for more guards at the city gates and troops stationed at the Xie and Liang family residences, everything else was as usual.
Since the Emperor and Empress were not in the imperial city, court sessions had temporarily stopped, but officials still carried out their respective duties.
Officials passed along the imperial street, chatting casually.
“How long will the Empress’s summer retreat last?”
“Ten days or half a month should be enough, right?”
“In those days, the late Emperor’s summer retreats would last three months.”
“Not even enthroned yet, and already trying to emulate the late Emperor’s neglect of state affairs?”
“Who says state affairs are being neglected? Memorials are sent and returned with comments daily. Besides, is the Empress idle?”
At this point, an official nodded in the direction of a certain part of the city.
“The Xie and Liang families are both surrounded.”
“Messages have been sent to all regions to suppress bandits and investigate Western Liang spies.”
As they were talking, an official approached from ahead, his dragon-patterned robe gleaming in the sunlight, causing the officials to stop in their tracks and cease their conversation.
“Lord Zhu,” one official took the initiative to greet him. “When did you return?”
Zhu Yong, the Deputy Commander of the Gongwei Department, smiled and bowed to them: “I arrived last night.”
So it seemed the matters in Han County had been settled. The officials’ gazes swept over his hands – this former minor editor’s hands were now stained with another layer of blood.
Zhu Yong didn’t exchange pleasantries with them but passed by, heading toward the Gongwei Department adjacent to the palace gates.
“Now that he’s back, who knows who will be next to suffer misfortune?”
“Who else could it be? Lord Xie has been detained by the Empress at the hunting grounds.”
So, the Empress hadn’t gone for a summer retreat; she was planning to deal with the Xie clan. The officials quietly discussed this as they walked away.
Zhu Yong didn’t look back. Though he couldn’t hear clearly, he knew what these people were discussing. He had heard about the commotion in the capital while en route and had hastened his pace to enter the city, going directly to the hunting grounds to see the Empress, but he had been stopped outside and not allowed to enter.
The guards had relayed the Empress’s words, instructing him to oversee the Gongwei Department during this period and keep an eye on the Xie clan, Liang clan, and their associates.
Zhu Yong entered the Gongwei Department, looking at the familiar government office, familiar officials, and guards.
But— something didn’t seem quite right.
Had the Empress imprisoned Xie Yanfang?