Send Han Ziqing to negotiate with Chu Feiyan?

Had Jun Beiyue lost his mind? The moment Chu Feiyan saw Han Ziqing, wouldn’t she fly into a rage? How could that possibly go well?

The moment Jun Beiyue reached the doorway, Jun Beiyao hurried after him despite the pain in his leg. “Fourth Brother, you’re really sending her?”

Ziqing pretended not to hear a thing. Jun Beiyue, however, stopped in his tracks.

“Fourth Brother, this negotiation is of critical importance. Yes, Western Chu came to us seeking peace, but we hardly hold the overwhelming advantage here!” Jun Beiyao said earnestly.

Jun Beiyue’s brow drew tight as he turned. “‘Her’ — who?” he said coldly.

Jun Beiyao blinked, momentarily failing to grasp what Jun Beiyue meant, and pressed on anxiously, “Fourth Brother, Father has been deeply concerned about this matter. Perhaps we ought to—”

Before he could finish, Jun Beiyue cut him off coldly. “Who is this ‘her’ you speak of?”

Only then did Jun Beiyao understand, blurting out, “Sister-in-law, of course!”

“Old Seven, of all the brothers, you’re supposed to be the one who knows proper etiquette best,” Jun Beiyue said coldly. Only at this point did Jun Beiyao belatedly grasp exactly what Jun Beiyue was taking issue with — his failure to show proper respect toward Han Ziqing.

At a time like this, this man was actually spending his time and energy scolding him over something like this?

Fury surged in Jun Beiyao at once. He shot a cold, narrow-eyed glare toward Han Ziqing, who stood waiting off to the side, bitterly thinking to himself that once they returned to the capital, he’d make this shameless pair pay dearly, even if it cost him everything.

He endured it — enduring was, after all, his greatest skill — and bowed respectfully. “Fourth Brother’s correction is well taken. I spoke out of line.”

Then he bowed to Ziqing as well. “Your humble brother spoke carelessly in his haste. Please forgive me, Sister-in-law.”

Ziqing’s face remained expressionless, though inwardly she was baffled — was Jun Beiyue really making such a fuss over something so trivial?

Just as she wondered this, Jun Beiyue had already walked over and taken her hand. “Let’s go.”

“Fourth Brother, perhaps you should reconsider—”

Jun Beiyao’s voice trailed off behind them as Jun Beiyue, holding Ziqing’s hand, strode out without so much as a backward glance.

Ziqing lowered her head, silently letting him lead her along.

Holding hands and gripping tightly were two entirely different things. Jun Beiyue had gripped her hand plenty of times before, but always because she’d been struggling against him.

Holding hands, though — that had happened perhaps only once or twice, few enough to count on one hand. In these quiet moments, Ziqing couldn’t help but think back to that chance encounter at the Han Prime Minister’s estate, when he’d called her name and led her away by the hand, just like this.

Her small hand, entirely enclosed in his larger one, gave her a strange sense of safety, as though she’d been folded into his protection from that moment on.

She’d always believed she needed no such sense of safety. And yet, by her own nature, she should have pulled her hand free long ago — and still, she hadn’t moved.

“Calling me ‘her’ isn’t disrespectful, really,” Ziqing said flatly.

“Do you have some grudge against him?” Jun Beiyue asked instead.

Ziqing was startled. “No.”

Had he noticed something? At this point, she no longer expected much from the Court of Judicial Review. She’d thought it through carefully — if it became public knowledge that Jun Beiyao was the one who’d ruined her purity, what would the consequences be?

Whatever Jun Beiyue’s reaction, whatever Emperor Tianhui’s reaction, she would still be the one who suffered most in the end.

Unless Jun Beiyao was willing to burn everything to the ground, he’d surely be wary of the fact that he’d been castrated, and wouldn’t dare reveal this easily.

So this matter, between the two of them, could only be settled privately, each relying on their own means.

“I get the sense you… don’t like him very much,” Jun Beiyue said flatly. Perhaps even he himself hadn’t fully realized it, but he noticed every gesture this woman made, every flicker of expression.

Only then did Ziqing relax, an inexplicable warmth spreading through her chest. “A hypocrite. I don’t like him.”

“If you don’t like him, see less of him from now on,” Jun Beiyue said flatly, glancing briefly at their joined hands before saying nothing further, walking on in silence.

The two of them walked at an unhurried pace down the empty streets of Second River City, as though yesterday’s fierce quarrel atop the city gate had never happened at all.

At last, as the government hall came into view in the distance, Jun Beiyue spoke flatly. “I can only accompany you as far as the door. You go in alone. By the customs of Longyuan, peace negotiations must be conducted one-on-one. No matter how fierce the war of words gets, no violence is permitted. The outcome must be drawn up as formal terms, sealed by the other party. Understood?”

“Mm,” Ziqing answered softly, asking no further questions, and the two of them fell back into silence.

In that silence, Ziqing gritted her teeth, her small hand trying to pull free ever so slightly. Jun Beiyue turned his head slightly to look, and seeing her lowered gaze, tightened his grip further before turning his eyes forward again.

Ziqing cautiously glanced up sideways, saw Jun Beiyue’s eyes fixed straight ahead, expressionless, then quickly lowered her head again, testing her hand once more — Jun Beiyue’s grip only tightened further in response.

Ziqing paused for a long moment before trying a third time, not even sure herself what was wrong with her — she felt strangely hesitant, when normally she’d have wrenched her hand free without a second thought.

To her surprise, this third time, Jun Beiyue didn’t tighten his grip at all — instead, he let go at once.

Her heart skipped, unmistakably. Her hand hung empty for a moment before she quickly drew it back.

“Go on in yourself. I’ll wait for you at the door,” Jun Beiyue said flatly.

“Mm.” Ziqing answered without thinking, on reflex, already stepping forward.

The moment she walked off, Jun Beiyue’s gaze turned cold. This woman really wasn’t going to yield an inch, wasn’t going to ask him anything at all?

Ziqing paused at the threshold, her fine brows drawing together slightly. Wasn’t he going to give her any instructions at all? This was his task, after all — surely he owed her some help.

She hesitated a moment, then suddenly turned back. “Prince Yao, is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

She figured — given how hard he’d come down on Jun Beiyao just now on her behalf — she wouldn’t hold this against him too much after all.

Jun Beiyue was clearly pleased, though his face remained stern, and he beckoned her over.

Ziqing walked over obediently, and he spoke, low. “You should understand the current situation well enough by now. Regardless of how the negotiation unfolds, the objectives must be clear. First: the three western cities, along with First and Second River City, all belong to Da Zhou. Second: Western Chu is to station no troops within three days’ march of Third River City, and is to compensate Da Zhou with twenty thousand fine warhorses.”

Ziqing was faintly startled — the terms weren’t many, but they were harsh indeed.

Never mind the second point — the first, taken alone, was tantamount to demanding Western Chu cede territory and admit defeat outright. How could Western Chu ever agree to that?

“Prince Yao, do you think Western Chu will accept this?” Ziqing asked flatly.

“That’s not a question for me — it’s a question for you. How you make Chu Feiyan agree,” Jun Beiyue said seriously.

Only then did Ziqing truly feel the weight of the pressure, her eyes lowering, saying nothing for a long moment.

Seeing this, Jun Beiyue gave a faint smile. “Even I can’t guess what conditions they’ll propose, so you’ll have to judge it yourself. Just remember one thing — what Western Chu has always ultimately wanted.”

“To annex Eastern Qin!” Ziqing’s head snapped up. She understood!

Jun Beiyue nodded. “Go on, then. Watch out for Chu Feiyan’s temper.” As he spoke, his large hand gave her shoulder a light pat.

Ziqing froze slightly, turning to stare at him instinctively — and stared for quite a while. Jun Beiyue’s hand grew stiff under her gaze. What was this woman looking at?

Awkwardly, he withdrew his hand, waving her off. “Go on, go on. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“When this mission’s done, I want…” Ziqing said, avoiding his gaze, “…hard cash.” With that, she strode toward the government hall.

Jun Beiyue said nothing, only clearing his throat repeatedly, and only once Ziqing’s figure had vanished through the door did he stop, brow furrowed, lost in thought about something. Then, suddenly, he gave a helpless laugh, shook his head, and settled himself down on the stone steps by the door, sweeping his robe aside.