The man untied the red ribbon from the hawk’s leg, glanced at it, and casually tossed it into the charcoal stove.
Inside the room, a woman in plain clothes sat on a three-sided couch, holding a teacup with lowered eyes.
The scent of tea lingered in the air. After a long while, the woman set down her untouched cup. “Shall we return?”
The man coughed a few times, watching the flickering charcoal fire buffeted by the wind. “Yes.”
…
Over the past few days, the snowfall had intensified, masking the gruesome battle by the riverbank.
Officials recovered 91 bodies, and nine out of ten houses near the river now stood empty.
This shocking incident reignited discussions about the recent major case on the river. Many speculated that the same group was responsible.
At the scene, authorities found a token—a pass belonging to the Crane-Controlling Bureau.
Officials immediately suppressed this information, but secrets have a way of spreading. With many witnesses present, someone leaked the news. After confirmation from local officials, scholars across Jiangnan jointly petitioned the Emperor to thoroughly investigate the Crane-Controlling Bureau.
The Bureau, ostensibly established to train personnel for the Imperial Guard and Palace Guard, had faced opposition from many officials during its inception. Now embroiled in this incident, some eagerly seized the opportunity to cause trouble.
In a courtyard in Yangzhou, a group of injured individuals sat on the porch, basking in the sunlight.
Mo Sigui and Sheng Changying, huddled by a fire basin with sleeves rolled up, discussed the city’s hottest topic.
“Those people are making such a fuss. What’s their aim? The Crane-Controlling Bureau isn’t newly established,” Mo Sigui said lazily, warming himself by the fire.
Under Mo Sigui’s care, Sheng Changying’s spirits had improved considerably. With his health returning, he felt even more idle. “Previously, the Imperial and Palace Guards recruited from the military. Many noble families could place their people there, easily securing positions for their sons. But now, the Crane-Controlling Bureau controls both guards. Those coveted positions are out of their reach. Now that they have something to latch onto, of course, they’re going all out.”
While the Imperial and Palace Guards offered little in terms of wealth, they were responsible for guarding key areas in the capital. High-ranking officials in these guards were close to the Emperor. Moreover, the founding Emperor had served in the Palace Guard before ascending to the throne, so these two guards had been highly regarded since the dynasty’s establishment. Naturally, many fought fiercely for such positions.
“They have too much time on their hands,” Mo Sigui commented lightly. He lowered his head to poke at the sweet potatoes by the charcoal basin with an iron fork. Finding one ready, he picked it up and offered it to Lou Mingyue. “Roasted sweet potato.”
Lou Mingyue, who had been resting with her eyes closed, coldly replied, “I don’t want it.”
“I’ll eat it,” An Jiu said. With her neck thickly bandaged, even turning her head was difficult, so she had to turn her entire body.
This was Lou Mingyue’s favorite childhood snack. They used to sneak into nearby fields to dig them up and roast them in hidden corners. When their parents found out, both were severely punished and had to bring gifts to apologize to the farmers.
Mo Sigui said, “Save your appetite. You’ll be full enough with that pot of medicine later.”
An Jiu paused. “I was just trying to save your face by giving you an out. If you don’t care about your image, forget I said anything.”
“Hah! Being shameless isn’t new for me!” Mo Sigui retorted, stuffing the hot sweet potato into Lou Mingyue’s hands.
Lou Mingyue held the sweet potato, her palm stinging from the heat. She didn’t eat it but also didn’t throw it away in front of everyone.
As the sun moved westward, the warmth faded quickly in the winter afternoon. Everyone collected their medicine from Mo Sigui and returned to their rooms.
An Jiu entered her room and sat down by the wall.
Just as she was dozing off, a black figure dropped from the rafters, tossing something her way.
An Jiu caught it, catching a whiff of its aroma.
“I didn’t say I wanted to eat,” An Jiu frowned, glaring at him displeasedly.
The scent of roasted sweet potato wafted to her nose. An Jiu’s nose twitched slightly as she unwrapped the cloth, took one out, and bit into it. Her frown deepened. “It’s not good.”
Chu Dingjiang took the sweet potato from her, peeled it, and held it to her mouth. “Try another bite.”
An Jiu took a bite from his hand, her eyes brightening slightly.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Mei Fourteen!”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Mei Fourteen!”
Mo Sigui wailed outside, “Chu Dingjiang if you’ve got the guts, don’t hide!”
An Jiu opened the door to see Mo Sigui with a bruised face.
Seeing Chu Dingjiang indeed in An Jiu’s room, he angrily said, “Mei Fourteen! Keep Chu Dingjiang on a leash! Don’t let him out to bite people!”
He then stormed back, sounds of rummaging coming from the opposite room.
“Did you hit him?” An Jiu asked.
Chu Dingjiang leaned against a pillar. “Obviously.”
An Jiu didn’t ask why. She closed the door and silently returned to her spot to munch on the sweet potato. As she ate, she suddenly broke into a smile.
Chu Dingjiang rarely saw her happy. He had imagined countless times how she might look when smiling, expecting her beautiful face to be alluring and stunning. Reality, however, often surprises. Her smile was somewhat silly, but the purity shining through her eyes was as innocent as a child’s. Watching this smile, he felt as if a stone had been dropped into the lake of his heart, rippling outward.
An Jiu had never shown a weak side, always either cold or fierce. Anyone who had witnessed her murderous aura and ruthlessness would be wary. Yet in this moment, Chu Dingjiang found her pitiful and felt a surge of protectiveness.
Unaware of his thoughts, An Jiu focused on devouring the sweet potatoes, quickly finishing all four in her pocket. Wiping her mouth, she concluded, “These smell great but taste ordinary.”
Chu Dingjiang laughed. “Just ordinary?”
“Better than dry rations,” An Jiu said. Her diet had once been simple and fixed, but after joining the Mei clan, she’d enjoyed daily delicacies. She could still survive on dry rations, but having tasted better food, she now understood the vast differences in flavors.
“The food in the Crane-Controlling Army is quite good. You won’t have to eat dry rations every day in the future,” Chu Dingjiang said.
This was undoubtedly good news for An Jiu.
With food concerns settled, she remembered the rumors outside and asked, “Will there be trouble because they found a Crane-Controlling Bureau token there?”
Before missions, they never carried anything identifiable, let alone a token. It was a setup. Chu Dingjiang understood she was asking if he would be implicated.
“A single token can’t do much to me, but…” Chu Dingjiang paused, then continued, “Their target isn’t me, it’s the Crane-Controlling Bureau. They’ll surely pin both recent incidents on the Bureau, aiming to weaken its authority. If I’m not mistaken, this is another ploy by the Liao state.”
An Jiu could guess some of this, but she didn’t understand, “Why would anyone believe such obvious framing?”
Chu Dingjiang smiled wryly, “There are always short-sighted fools who only care about their interests. Don’t they realize that when the nest falls, no eggs remain intact?”
Bang! Bang!
“Is Lord Chu there?” someone called from outside.
“Speak,” Chu Dingjiang replied.
“There’s a letter for you,” the person said.