The Court of Imperial Stud’s administrative office was dilapidated—not nearly as imposing as the rows of stables extending across the pasture.
Shen Xi had taken office on the second day of the third month. These past few days, he had roughly grasped the Court’s responsibilities.
This office, plainly speaking, simply raised horses. Not only did it raise the horses in its own stables, but it also managed the horse-rearing conditions at all the official stables throughout Great Sui. In times of peace and prosperity, it was an extremely leisurely office. But now with war breaking out across the realm, three days ago when General Luo set out on campaign, a thousand civilian horses had been requisitioned. Tomorrow, the Fourth Prince would return to Beiping. In addition to personally escorting grain supplies, he also needed to requisition five thousand warhorses purchased from the northwestern horse markets.
“The Ministry of War purchased a total of eight thousand horses this year—five thousand sent to the northern frontier for the Fourth Prince, and another three thousand sent to the Northern Great Camp in the capital.” Outside the stables, a Steward surnamed Lin held a document and explained to Shen Xi. “The Fourth Prince’s end is an urgent wartime matter, so the Ministry of War was quite straightforward. The allocated horse fodder and saddles were approved long ago. The difficulty lies with these three thousand warhorses being sent to the Northern Great Camp.
“Horses traveling all the way from the northwest to the capital can’t go hungry on the road. Water is commonly available, but horse fodder isn’t available everywhere, so transporting horses is truly a problem. The best method is to break the whole into parts—divide them into ten batches, dispatch them to official stables in various locations, have each stable provide horse fodder, then transport them back to the capital. But this is very time-consuming. The earliest they could arrive is September. Yet the Seventh Prince says he must see the horses by June at the latest, so everyone up and down the chain is at a loss.”
Shen Xi knew why Zhu Zhaowei must see the horses by June at the latest—his Fengyang Army would be stationed at the Northern Great Camp in June. These three thousand warhorses were said to be for wartime reserves, but in reality, they were first for his Fengyang Army. When the time came, with sufficient troops and cavalry, it would be difficult for him not to secure the throne.
Shen Xi said indifferently, “The Seventh Prince has abundant financial resources. Since he’s requisitioning horses, won’t he contribute to the horse fodder supply?”
Steward Lin said, “His Highness did say Fengyang could provide the horse fodder if there wasn’t enough, but then he added that Fengyang didn’t have the manpower to transport so much fodder.” He sighed and pointed to the date on the document. “Lord Shen, look—this is the requisition order the Ministry of War approved today. The three thousand warhorses must be dispatched by the twentieth day of the third month at the latest, but the fodder supply remains unresolved. You used to be a high official in the palace. Could you have someone inquire and see if Fengyang’s manpower problem can be resolved?”
Shen Xi laughed inwardly. How could Fengyang’s manpower problem possibly be resolved? Zhu Zhaowei had already planned to have the entire Fengyang Army come to the capital to seize the throne.
He glanced at the single withered yellow blade among the green grass on the ground, bent down, and pulled it out: “The Seventh Prince wants to see the horses by June. If he doesn’t see them, he’ll be more anxious than anyone. Since the Ministry of War has set a date and His Highness has promised that Fengyang will provide the fodder, it shows he has his own solution in mind. Why are you worried?”
Steward Lin said, “By rights, this subordinate shouldn’t worry, but the three thousand warhorses will depart in the latter part of the month. The allocated fodder is only enough for one month. The Fengyang Army has made no moves so far. If the warhorses go hungry for several days and become injured or ill, that’s a small matter. What’s most feared is that when real battle comes, they won’t be effective—delaying military affairs while wasting money and grain for nothing.”
As he spoke, he cupped his hands toward the heavens: “Right now the court hasn’t stabilized yet, and hidden dangers everywhere are erupting simultaneously. If the horses aren’t good, battles can’t be fought well. In the end, it’s the common people who suffer. Though this subordinate is merely a ninth-rank steward, I’m still eating imperial grain. If I fail in my duty regarding such small matters, wouldn’t I be ashamed before the people’s livelihood and ashamed before His Majesty?”
Hearing these words, Shen Xi looked at Steward Lin with some surprise. Only then did he examine the document handed to him carefully, seemingly casually asking, “You truly want me to help?” Then he smiled mischievously and said, “Aren’t you afraid this official will deceive you?”
Steward Lin froze for a moment, cupped his hands, and said, “I wouldn’t dare.” He added, “Though this subordinate occupies the lowest position, I know that with war breaking out this year, purchasing horses and transporting grain everywhere requires silver. The reason the Ministry of Revenue can manage is entirely because when Lord Shen served as Left Vice Minister, you prepared for rainy days. Your Lordship’s strategies are unparalleled. How could this subordinate not trust you?”
Shen Xi nodded slightly. The withered grass he had just pulled spun between his fingertips: “The horse transport route approved by the Ministry of War is ultimately issued by the Court of Imperial Stud. Though this official is the Vice Director, Director Liu has explicitly forbidden me from touching military horse correspondence. If you trust this official, bring me the route map tomorrow. After I’ve revised it, we’ll send it to the official stable stations along the way.”
Hearing these words, Steward Lin was shocked: “Your Lordship actually intends to modify the horse transport rou—”
Before he could finish speaking, footsteps were heard approaching. Steward Lin hastily closed his mouth, folded the document in his hand in half, and tucked it into his chest.
The newcomer was none other than Director Liu of the Court of Imperial Stud, the very one who forbade Shen Xi from touching military horse correspondence.
He said coldly, “Not performing your duties properly is one thing, but taking advantage of this official’s absence to gossip?” He looked toward Shen Xi. “Has Vice Director Shen finished brushing today’s hundred horses?”
Shen Xi placed the withered grass between his lips and smiled: “I’ve disappointed Your Lordship. There are still fifty left. This subordinate will brush them now.” With that, he steadied himself on the wooden rail, turned around, picked up the horse brush, and headed into the stables.
Director Liu watched from outside. After a moment, he said in measured tones, “Properly speaking, Lord Shen is the Vice Director and your legs aren’t well, so brushing horses shouldn’t be your work. But now with horses being requisitioned everywhere, everyone at the Court of the Imperial Stud is busy as spinning tops. You’re newly arrived and can’t help much, so you can only do miscellaneous tasks. I hope Vice Director Shen won’t take it to heart.”
Shen Xi dipped the horse brush in water. His brushing movements were already quite practiced, and he said carelessly, “Director Liu worries too much. In my heart, official duties aren’t divided by size or status. They’re all for the family, nation, and realm. For instance, this work of brushing horses—straightening the horse hair strand by strand—can also be considered doing my part for you, can’t it, Your Lordship?”
Hearing these words, Director Liu only felt uncomfortable. After half a moment, he realized Shen Xi seemed to be comparing the horse he was brushing to himself. Just as he was about to react, he suddenly saw a minor official stumbling and running from the office to the pasture, gasping for breath: “Your—Your Lordship, someone has come—”
The several offices under the Court of the Imperial Stud were very close to each other. Now with official business so busy, there was frequent coming and going between them. Director Liu was already irritated. Hearing these words, he assumed someone had come from a brother office: “If someone’s come, have them wait in the public hall.”
The minor official swallowed and didn’t know how to respond, because although the person who came hadn’t announced their identity, their third-rank peacock-embroidered official robes had already caused all the officials in the public hall to kneel trembling on the ground.
After a long while, the minor official finally caught his breath and said, “Your Lordship, this time an extraordinary high official has come, and there are over a dozen extraordinary soldiers following behind.”
Hearing his vague speech, Director Liu was especially impatient. As he turned his head, he said, “What high official could possibly come to a godforsaken corner like the Court of Imperial Stud? It couldn’t be Minister Huang. He’s a dignified fourth-rank official, and unless the sky falls—” Before he could finish, he saw Su Jin’s third-rank peacock-embroidered official robes. His face turned ashen as he knelt: “This subordinate, Court of Imperial Stud Director Liu Changqing, pays respects to Lord Su. Lord Su’s honored presence truly brings glory to this humble place. This subordinate failed to welcome you from afar—I truly deserve death, truly deserve death.”
Su Jin’s gaze swept past Shen Xi and looked toward Director Liu on the ground, who had spoken half a sentence before kneeling while trembling. She laughed once and said, “Here the wilds stretch in all directions, with heaven and earth as shelter. Yet Director Liu can still bring forth glory from humble places—clearly you have a stomach that can hold the sea and embrace all rivers.” She added, “This official has heard Director Liu has a habit—every day after noon, you must take a small rest for two shichen, and at night, another large rest for four shichen. I’ve long wanted to ask Director Liu: Is your prime minister’s stomach that can hold a boat cultivated through sleep?”
Su Jin had formerly served as a censor, investigating officials’ conduct and discipline. Though she had now left the Imperial Censorate, her former eyes and ears remained.
Director Liu kowtowed repeatedly: “Lord Su, have mercy! Lord Su, have mercy! This subordinate will never sleep again, never sleep again!”
Su Jin said indifferently, “Whether you sleep has nothing to do with this official, but today, the remaining fifty horses Vice Director Shen has yet to brush—”
“This subordinate will brush them,” Director Liu said decisively. “Tomorrow’s and those after—all will be brushed by this subordinate.”
As he spoke, he turned his head toward the stables. Seeing that Shen Xi still had that withered grass in his mouth and with his slovenly appearance hadn’t even paid respects to Vice Minister Su, he immediately scolded, “Why don’t you come out quickly and show respect to Lord Su?”
Shen Xi looked at Su Jin, smiled faintly, and struggled out of the stable while supporting himself on the wooden rail, saying, “Very well, then this subordinate will now pay respects to Lord Su—”
Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly froze, because he saw the person behind Su Jin wearing dark red fitted clothing, with features extremely similar to his own.
Shen Xi had been supporting himself on the column, but the moment he saw Shen Jun, his fingertips trembled on the wooden column. He slowly let go, seemingly casually removing the withered grass from his lips and tossing it away. All his strength then pressed onto his legs that had not yet fully healed. Though there was piercing pain, at least it couldn’t be seen as abnormal.
For a good long while, he just stood there without moving. He felt that although he couldn’t move forward, at least he couldn’t retreat either.
Thus he wouldn’t lose face.
Shen Jun also didn’t move. At first it was because of the timidity of approaching home. It wasn’t until Shen Xi appeared before her eyes that her footsteps truly became as if entangled by vines.
In Shen Jun’s heart, even if Shen Xi was incorrigible, even if he was annoying, even if she had quarreled with him since childhood, he had always been carefree, unrestrained—unstained by worldly dust, yet brilliantly outstanding.
She had never seen him in such a wretched state. His coarse cloth garments were splattered with mud, and a mere sixth-rank director dared to order him about.
After the family incident, Shen Xi hadn’t sent half a word to Beiping. When Shen Jun received the news, she was truly filled with rage. Not only did she give birth over a month early, but before even finishing her month of postpartum confinement, she endured the pain of entrusting her infant son to a wet nurse. She brought over a dozen officers and traveled day and night, fearing that if she was a step late, this only younger brother would also be gone.
Who knew that the Shen Xi she would see would look like this? She could hardly dare to imagine it. She remembered he loved cleanliness most.
Su Jin knew Shen Xi’s leg injury hadn’t healed. Seeing him standing there without support wasn’t a solution, so she dismissed everyone, retrieved three long benches from the stables, arranged them, and said, “Though today I was indeed forced here by villains, I also truly have urgent matters and came to see you.” She paused. “I’ve come on behalf of the Thirteenth Prince.”
Hearing these words, Shen Xi finally sat down on the bench in silence.
Su Jin observed his reaction. Seeing he hadn’t even glanced at Shen Jun once, she knew in her heart that Shen Jun must be trustworthy. She therefore bowed to her: “Fourth Princess.”
Shen Jun nodded slightly, removed the red-tasseled spear from her back, and handed it to a guard at her side, saying, “Stand guard here.” She also came to sit down, without looking at Shen Xi.
Only then did Su Jin speak: “Yesterday His Highness had Imperial Physician Jiang bring me word that he must leave tomorrow after nightfall. But the situation is critical, and fearing he would implicate us, he didn’t reveal his specific plan. All I can do is use the Ministry of Justice’s interrogation as a pretext to help him detain Wu Yusheng. But I’m still uneasy. Privately I want Imperial Physician Jiang to go to the Eastern Palace again, but I fear alerting the enemy.”
“Indeed improper,” Shen Xi said. “Since Thirteen has already planned everything thoroughly, any rash moves by you and me might disrupt him. Moreover, you’re about to formally report to the Ministry of Justice these next two days. Zhu Zhaowei’s informants are surely watching you very closely. It would be better to let this idler with nothing to do think of ways to support him.”
Shen Jun had been listening carefully, but suddenly the phrase “idler with nothing to do” entered her ears. After half a moment, she realized he was speaking of her and couldn’t help but respond: “Thirteen has been confined in the Eastern Palace for two months. You’ve been here feeding and raising horses without thinking of half a plan. You call me an idler with nothing to do, yet you’re so accomplished yourself? All your bellyful of books have been read into your intestines—can they grow you three heads and six arms? When we were small, I told you to practice martial arts with me, but you refused even if it killed you. Now that you’re suffering, you finally know you can’t even lift a horse brush. At least eating idle meals can be converted into strength. That Director Liu just now—if it were me, I’d have beaten him up!”
Shen Xi laughed coldly: “I originally thought your brain was just waterlogged, but who knew that by now it’s truly flooded beyond measure. After all these years, your method of solving troubles is still the same—if you can’t out-argue someone, you fight; if you can’t out-fight them, you call people to fight together? And which time didn’t you make things worse? Which time didn’t I have to clean up after you? At five you beat the young master of the Minister of Ceremonies. At seven you beat the second young master of the Grand Tutor’s household. At nine you were impressive—you punched the Third Prince right in the face. Your life’s tireless pursuit has been devoted to humiliation and disgrace. That you remain so obstinately unrepentant to this day can be considered living out your unique distinction—truly admirable.”
“When I was seven and beat the second young master of the Grand Tutor’s household, wasn’t it because my younger brother, who only has a glib tongue and causes trouble everywhere with his mouth, got beaten into a mud pit and couldn’t get up? Speaking of humiliation and disgrace, wasn’t the most humiliating incident for the Shen household when Young Master Shen was romantic and debonair, and at sixteen was blocked at the door by seven families who came to propose marriage? He was so frightened he shut himself in his room for a day and night. But unable to control his feet, the next day he actually changed into Second Sister’s clothes and went out with an umbrella, only to run right into the drunken Second Young Master of Minister Gong’s household. Young Master Gong cried for half a year afterward, wanting to marry the Fourth Miss of the Shen household. At the time, everyone in the Shen household was puzzled about who this Fourth Miss was. The maids and servants searched everywhere but couldn’t find her. Only when Young Master Gong mentioned the Fourth Miss also had a teardrop mole did they realize the miss wasn’t actually a miss, but Young Master Shen himself.”