The wind rushed sharply past their ears. Su Jin followed closely behind Zhu Nanxian as they headed toward the side chamber, listening as he spoke with utmost urgency: “I’ve calculated the days—within ten days, I must leave.”
He pushed open the door to the side chamber and looked around, then took paper and brush from the desk: “This journey will be fraught with danger. You and Qingyue should remain in the capital, act as if you know nothing of this matter, and prioritize your own safety above all.”
Seeing that he intended to write a letter, Su Jin fetched water to grind ink for him: “Is Your Highness planning to leave the capital for Nanchang?”
Zhu Nanxian dipped his brush in ink and nodded: “Yes. After the winter hunt, Father Emperor left me a secret edict.”
As he spoke, he raised his brush while explaining the contents of the secret edict to Su Jin, continuing: “Although I hold command authority over the Twelve Guards, among these twelve, those guarding the imperial mausoleum—the Loyalty and Filial Piety Guard—and those managing ceremonial processions—the Banner Guard—are all comprised of civilian households with military registration. Their combat effectiveness is sorely lacking, not to mention that the Feathered Forest Guard and the Brocade Guard are not under my command. Of the sixty thousand personal troops, only about thirty thousand are actually usable. Zhu Zhaowei’s Fengyang Army will arrive in June. If I don’t return to Nanchang Prefecture to mobilize troops, remaining in the capital, you and I will only be sitting ducks waiting for death.”
Su Jin said: “Then how will you leave the Eastern Palace? Who will provide support after you leave, who will protect you? Does Your Highness have arrangements? If not, Ayu can make preparations for Your Highness.”
“No need,” Zhu Nanxian said. “You’ve been promoted to Vice Minister of Justice and have already become a thorn in Zhu Zhaowei’s side. You absolutely must not rush about on my behalf anymore, otherwise once he seizes upon any pretext, he certainly won’t spare you lightly.”
The letter was concise and to the point, finished in moments. Zhu Nanxian hesitated slightly, re-dipped his brush in ink, and drew a totem at the signature, then said: “But I do have two matters to entrust to you. If you have a way, have Shen Qingyue come to the Eastern Palace once. I have matters to discuss with him. Naturally, if it’s dangerous, definitely don’t force it.”
Having finished drawing the totem, he set down the brush and pushed the letter toward Su Jin: “Also this letter—have someone deliver it to the Northwest Regional Military Commission as quickly as possible, personally placing it in the hands of Regional Commander Mao Zuofeng. Instruct him to lead thirty thousand Northwestern troops to garrison at Xinyang Prefecture under the pretext that bandits have infiltrated Great Sui, cutting off the Fengyang Army’s retreat.”
Su Jin nodded: “But how will Commander Mao confirm that this letter was truly written by Your Highness? Is it solely based on Your Highness’s handwriting, or—” As she spoke to this point, her gaze suddenly swept across the letter and landed on the totem at the end, causing her to freeze momentarily.
It was actually a turtle with wings.
Zhu Nanxian raised his fist to cover his nose, coughing somewhat awkwardly: “Several years ago when commanding troops in the Northwest, once when we reached the snowy plains, Mao and I were terribly hungry. We snuck out of camp in the middle of the night, chiseled a hole in the frozen river, originally planning to fish, but unexpectedly hooked a turtle.
“At that time we were truly desperate with hunger, so we secretly roasted and ate this turtle without sharing it with the soldiers. We never mentioned this to anyone, and afterward we even drew a pair of bird wings on the turtle shell—it was just… a way of thanking it for filling our bellies and wishing it an early ascent to paradise.”
Su Jin listened to Zhu Nanxian’s account in stunned silence. After a moment, she couldn’t help but smile faintly, lips pressed together. She lowered her eyes, and seeing that the ink on the letter had dried, carefully folded it: “Your Highness can rest assured, Ayu will definitely have the most trustworthy person deliver this letter to the Northwest.”
The smile at the corners of her lips didn’t fade, blooming like an orchid against her pale cheek. Zhu Nanxian watched Su Jin across the desk, thinking of the journey to Nanchang—the perilous and vast road ahead—his heart rising and falling momentarily. He couldn’t help but say: “That Medical Director Jiang who came to the Eastern Palace to treat my injuries is one of Zuo Qian’s men. I’ve already had him relay word to Zuo Qian—if anything happens to me, the Golden Militant Guard will naturally escort you and Shen Qingyue to Shu. But Zhu Zhaowei is sinister and cunning. Unless the news is certain, you must never leave the capital alone. Within the palace precincts you still have the Golden Militant Guard’s protection, but once you leave, Zhu Zhaowei will—”
Before he could finish speaking, urgent footsteps suddenly sounded from outside. Shortly after, someone called out “Lord Wu”—it turned out the Feathered Forest Guard had heard news of Zhu Nanxian coming to Minghua Palace and had tracked him here.
Su Jin’s heart tightened. She said to Zhu Nanxian: “Your Highness has been alone with me for quite some time. The Feathered Forest Guard will suspect something fishy. When you return to the Eastern Palace, they’ll definitely find an excuse to search Your Highness. Your Highness carries the secret edict—do you have a countermeasure?”
Zhu Nanxian said: “I’ve already instructed Medical Director Jiang to come provide support.”
“Good, then Your Highness should first go rest on the bamboo couch. Ayu will exonerate Your Highness.”
As Su Jin spoke, she turned to open the door. Her left hand had just grasped the door bolt when she heard “Ayu.” Zhu Nanxian took two steps in one stride forward, covering her hand with one of his to hold the bolt firm, while his other hand gripped her arm and drew her toward him.
He bent his face down, his lips touching softness.
The orchid beneath his lips trembled lightly.
Her breath was fresh yet suddenly chaotic. Her whole person swayed but she didn’t push him away. Instead, hesitating, she uncertainly moved to meet him.
Zhu Nanxian’s hand thus slid down along her arm, brushing past her wrist, as if to give her infinite resolve and courage, grasping her hand firmly in his palm.
Sunlight poured through the thin window paper into the room. Beyond the door, the Feathered Forest Guard’s footsteps rushed closer, yet the spring sun was serene, descending silently over their heads, yet rippling enough to stir up chaos and tumult in their hearts.
Actually it was but a momentary affair, yet when Zhu Nanxian released Su Jin, he could still hear the clashing of weapons and settling of dust within his five viscera.
For a time neither spoke. Zhu Nanxian looked at Su Jin, seeing her cheeks slightly flushed, her breathing not yet steady. He couldn’t help but raise his hand, brushing a strand of hair that had slipped down her cheek behind her ear, saying softly: “Wait for my return.”
Having spoken, he said no more, pushed open the bolt and opened the door, looking at the Feathered Forest Guard outside the side chamber who were about to knock: “Are you looking for this prince?”
Wu Yusheng didn’t reply. Commander Fu, who had gone to the Imperial Medical Academy to request a medical director, answered instead: “Lord Wu, seeing that the Thirteenth Prince was not in the Eastern Palace, was concerned for His Highness’s safety, which is why he sought him at Minghua Palace.” He added, “This subordinate has already brought Director Jiang here.”
Medical Director Jiang then bowed to Zhu Nanxian, saying: “This subject heard that Your Highness seems to have suffered from palpitations, and guesses it should be caused by old injuries. Your Highness should rest well now. After this subject examines your pulse and you take medicine, it won’t be too late to return to the Eastern Palace.”
Zhu Nanxian nodded: “I trouble the Medical Director.” Speaking thus, he stepped slightly aside, allowing him into the room.
Su Jin stood at the doorway, her form blocking half the light and shadow. Only after seeing the secret edict slip from Zhu Nanxian’s sleeve and fall without anyone’s knowledge into the hidden compartment of Medical Director Jiang’s medicine box did she bow to Zhu Nanxian: “This subject still has official duties. Since Director Jiang is here, this subject will take his leave.”
Medical Director Jiang hurriedly rose and bowed to Su Jin: “Lord Su, take care.”
Su Jin left the side hall, circling around from Minghua Terrace. After confirming she had left the Feathered Forest Guard’s field of vision, her footsteps suddenly quickened.
She knew that these moments alone with Zhu Nanxian would certainly arouse suspicion, and she was indeed carrying the secret letter he wanted sent to the Northwest. Right now, only by returning to the Imperial Censorate as quickly as possible could she escape danger.
From Minghua Terrace to Fengtian Hall stretched a deep, long corridor. Before noon, the corridor was utterly deserted.
Su Jin had just reached the archway when unexpectedly a familiar voice called from behind: “Lord Su.”
It was actually Wu Yusheng who had pursued her with four Feathered Forest Guards.
He cupped his hands to Su Jin: “Lord Su, please don’t blame me. After the Ningjiao case, both the Twelfth Prince and the Seventh Prince, in order to protect the Thirteenth Prince’s safety, specifically instructed that anyone who has had contact with the Thirteenth Prince, whether high officials or imperial clan members, must be thoroughly searched. Lord Su was alone in Minghua Palace for quite some time just now. Wu must follow protocol. Lord Su, please understand.”
Having spoken, without waiting for Su Jin’s response, his gaze swept over and he gave a look. The four Feathered Forest Guards immediately stepped forward—two held long spears blocking Su Jin’s path, two grabbed her arms, restraining her left and right.
Su Jin carried far too many secrets. Not to mention Zhu Nanxian’s secret letter—her identity as a woman alone was enough to leave her with no burial place.
Su Jin’s thoughts raced, but no matter how many strategies she had, she couldn’t stop the Feathered Forest Guard from using force.
She sighed deeply in her heart. Between choices, just as she was about to expose her female identity to conceal Zhu Nanxian’s secret letter, someone behind her suddenly called: “Wu Yusheng.”
Su Jin remembered this calm and steady tone.
She turned to look back, only to see Zhu Yushen walking from the other end of the corridor. He wasn’t wearing martial attire today—a black python robe made his knife-sharp handsome features appear imposing and authoritative.
Drawing near, he said coolly: “Have you grown bold? You dare casually search the person of a third-rank vice minister?”
Zhu Yushen had guarded the northern frontier for ten years with brilliant military achievements. His prestige among military officers was unmatched. Wu Yusheng dared not use the excuses he’d fed Su Jin to deceive him, immediately begging forgiveness: “Fourth Prince, forgive me. This subordinate is merely acting on the Twelfth Prince’s orders. If Fourth Prince finds this improper, then this subordinate will stop immediately.”
Zhu Yushen made a sound of acknowledgment: “You may go.”
After Wu Yusheng withdrew with the Feathered Forest Guard, only then did Su Jin perform the proper courtesies to Zhu Yushen, saying: “Today is Qingming. Did Fourth Prince not go to the imperial mausoleum?”
Zhu Yushen said: “I have military affairs to attend to, so I didn’t go.”
The hand without the iron wrist guard had a scar at the end, extending viciously from within his sleeve. Hearing him mention “military affairs,” Su Jin said: “This subject heard that the grain supplies originally planned for transport to Beiping were mistakenly redirected to Guangxi for disaster relief. Fortunately Huguang still has surplus grain supplies for reinforcement, which will soon be transported to the capital.”
Zhu Yushen said: “Yes. But every region has bandit uprisings. We must economize where possible. While grain supplies and troops cannot be reduced, we can cut costs in manpower and material resources. Therefore this prince must remain in the capital a few more days. Once the grain arrives, I’ll personally escort it.”
Su Jin bowed: “Fourth Prince works hard.” She added, “Fortunately the northern military situation isn’t yet critical. Fourth Prince is the supreme commander—these extra days can be considered rest and recuperation.”
Zhu Yushen looked at Su Jin. After a moment he asked: “This prince heard that Qingyue will assume his post at the Court of Imperial Stud on the second. Has his health recovered?”
“It’s much improved,” Su Jin said. “Only his legs haven’t fully healed. I’m afraid it won’t be until early summer that he can leave his wooden staff behind.”
Zhu Yushen nodded: “That’s good. If there are any inconveniences, you can come find this prince.”
The day after Qingming passed, the edict for Su Jin’s promotion to Vice Minister of Justice came down. The handover matters at the Imperial Censorate still required half a month to arrange, but everyone who saw Su Jin already addressed her as “Vice Minister.”
The Crown Prince had died, uprisings erupted everywhere—the twenty-fifth year of Jingyuan had been inauspicious since the new year. Now after the monthly selections, the generals dispatched to various regions had been decided, and everything seemed to be getting back on track. The anxious court finally welcomed a few rare days of stability.
When people find brief peace amid chaos, they always try every means to make this peace last a little longer, a little more enduringly.
The first day of the third month was the eightieth birthday of the old matriarch of the Zhao residence. Zhao Yan had begun distributing invitations since early in the first month. He was a famous filial son—the old matriarch was his grandmother. In previous years her birthday would also be celebrated with invitations extended, but the court’s high officials were busy with official duties, and it fell on the first of the month, so usually gifts arrived but people did not. But this year was different. Perhaps the capital had gone too long without joyous occasions—from the morning hour onward, people came to the Zhao residence to partake of the flowing banquet.
Su Jin and Zhao Yan were colleagues at the Imperial Censorate. She had received an invitation during the New Year period, but later with various matters piling up, she had completely forgotten about it. Only recently remembering, she discovered she had lucked into perfect timing—Shen Xi was to assume his post on the second day of the third month. The first day, the old matriarch’s birthday, was precisely the day Shen Xi would leave the Zhao residence’s separate manor.
Early that morning, Su Jin had Seventh Uncle arrange congratulatory gifts, then instructed Tan Zhaolin to go to the back gate of the Zhao residence’s separate manor right after noon to collect Shen Xi. She gave a thousand instructions and ten thousand exhortations not to be even a moment late. If they delayed until evening, with people coming and going at the Zhao residence, if someone discovered that Shen Xi had been staying at the Zhao residence receiving day and night care from Second Miss Zhao, how could Miss Zhao conduct herself in the future?
Tan Zhaolin was quite agreeable, saying breezily: “Lord Su, what do you have to worry about when I handle things?”