“Meng Xiangyang, to think I have always relied on you and entrusted military authority into your hands — and this is how you repay me.” The Marshal glared fiercely at Meng Xiangyang, his eyes flooded with red. “This is your repayment?”

“Marshal, please calm your anger. My loyalty to the Marshal is unwavering — how could I possibly do something so treasonous? I only received word that you intended to deal with Shi Qian, and for a moment my judgment faltered.”

“So — you surrounded my Marshal’s compound first to coerce me into pardoning Shi Qian? And if I refused, you were going to raze this whole place?”

“Marshal has misunderstood. I did not order anyone to surround the Marshal’s compound, nor did I harbor any improper intentions.” By now there was nothing Meng Xiangyang did not understand — he had clearly been played by someone. In this situation, his only way to protect himself was to abandon Shi Qian. His mind moving swiftly, he said at once, “It is not for others to interfere in how the Marshal disciplines his son who has erred. I acted foolishly for a moment, and I will have men withdraw immediately. I dare not cause any further disturbance.”

The Marshal stood over him, looking down coldly. Thinking of how Meng Xiangyang usually strutted before him with such arrogance, it was rare to see him so cowed and anxious — and the Marshal could not help but feel a secret satisfaction.

The Marshal naturally had no wish to alienate Meng Xiangyang. Now that he knew his mistake, why not give him a chance to correct it?

“Get up.” The Marshal gave a cold grunt. “Take your men back to the Meng Mansion and remain inside to reflect on your conduct. I do not wish to see your face for the time being.”

“Yes.” When Meng Xiangyang rose from the ground, his legs had gone numb and he nearly stumbled. In all his years of smooth sailing, he had never endured such humiliation — but given the circumstances, he could only swallow the bitterness.

Meng Xiangyang quickly withdrew with his soldiers, while the Shi Old Madam had likewise returned to the south courtyard. It was said she had suffered a fright and would not be able to see anyone for the time being.

The intervention of the Old Madam and Meng Xiangyang had only hardened the Marshal’s resolve to deal with Shi Qian. Originally he had intended to leave Shi Qian in place for a few days to allow for some arrangements — but now he issued a final decree: Shi Qian was to be taken to Mocheng the very next day. Without the Marshal’s explicit order, he was never to set foot in Shun Cheng again.

Upon hearing this, Madam Shi immediately crumpled to the ground and lost consciousness.

As for the Meng family — this was only the beginning. For the Marshal’s killing intent had been kindled, and it could no longer be extinguished.

The following morning, Shi Ting heard that Shi Qian had been dispatched to the Northern Wastes.

He still had to maintain the pretense of being ill and did not leave his bed — instead, he sat up and reviewed documents.

When Yan Qing walked in, a shaft of sunlight fell precisely upon his handsome features. His long, dense lashes seemed dusted with gold, the shadow of his straight nose rising like a small mountain. Because he was feigning illness, his lips had been made pale, but he showed no sign of sickness — if anything, he carried an added quality of cool reserve.

She drew the documents from his hand. “Time to eat.”

Shi Ting pulled her down to sit beside him. “Shi Qian has gone?”

“I heard they sent him off before dawn. The Marshal dispatched four men to escort him to Mocheng.”

Shi Ting was lost in thought.

Yan Qing, reading his thoughts, asked with a smile, “You think Shi Qian won’t make it to Mocheng? Or that the Meng family will send someone to rescue him?”

“Both.” Shi Ting toyed with her soft, small hand. “The Meng family will naturally send someone to intercept Shi Qian and convey him to a safe place. Then they will claim he was cut down by bandits along the road. And the rescued Shi Qian — even if he can no longer seize power — will at least be guaranteed a comfortable life for his remaining years. After all, garrisoning the frontier at Mocheng is a matter of life and death.”

“Yes — Madam Shi and Meng Xiangyang are not going to stand by and watch Shi Qian go to Mocheng to die.”

“Madam Shi will not — but someone else will.” A coldness crept into Shi Ting’s eyes. “Shi Qian nearly cost Shi Guang his life this time. Shi Guang will surely bear a grudge. Once Meng Xiangyang has rescued Shi Qian, Shi Guang will very likely send men to kill him anyway — conveniently confirming the story that he was slain by bandits.”

“Between blood brothers, it comes down to this.” Yan Qing was overcome with feeling.

If Shi Ting had not forced the hidden hand out into the open and devised this chain of connected schemes, Shi Qian would likely have escaped this calamity again.

“Yes — blood brothers.” There was a thin coolness in Shi Ting’s gaze, a touch of mockery, and beneath it all a depth that could not be fathomed.

From the day they were born into the Marshal’s household, this cycle of mutual slaughter had been their fate. If he had not been ruthless, the one who was dead now would have been him.

As Shi Ting was thinking this, his hand was suddenly gripped firmly. He looked up to find Yan Qing’s steady, clear gaze fixed on him — like a lotus gradually opening its beautiful petals. “Whatever you do, I support you.”

Even if hands were stained with blood. Even if the world turned against you. This unknown road full of thorns — she would walk it with him without a second thought.

She had once wanted to be a forensic scientist who sought justice for those who died wrongly. But in this era of war and slaughter, the notion of keeping one’s hands clean was clearly nothing but a fantasy. To help him take that seat, who knew how many people would die, how many families would be torn apart — but this was the price to be paid for success. She had no regrets from the moment she chose.

Shi Ting was deeply moved. He could not help pulling her tightly into his embrace.

“Whether I win or lose in the end, with your words, I will have no regrets.”

She smiled softly against his chest. “I believe in you.”

At that moment, a voice announced from outside, “The Marshal has arrived.”

Yan Qing quickly drew back from Shi Ting and straightened her clothing, then quietly withdrew to one side.

After the Marshal entered, he nodded briefly toward her.

Yan Qing returned the greeting with a bow and stepped out.

“Are your injuries any better?” The Marshal took a seat in the chair beside the bed and asked with visible concern.

“Much better.” Shi Ting said gratefully, “Thank you for the Marshal’s kind concern.”

“You are my son, and you went out on my behalf. Of course I will be concerned.” The Marshal paused, then let out a gentle sigh. “The Meng family grows more and more brazen.”

The Marshal’s desire to uproot the Meng family had another reason behind it: as long as the Meng family remained, Shi Guang and Shi Qian had a powerful backer. Compared to Shi Ting, who had no maternal family connections whatsoever, that imbalance clearly made it impossible to maintain the mutual check he needed.

“The Marshal need not be troubled. The Old Master of the Meng family in his day was a loyal subordinate of the Marshal’s own father — he fought to build this domain. And now Minister Meng contributes both money and effort in service to the Marshal. The Meng family has served the Shi family for generations. Even without merit to speak of, there is hardship enough. Even if they are a little presumptuous and overbearing — as long as they do not do anything too outrageous, that should not be too unacceptable.”

After saying these words, Shi Ting carefully observed the Marshal’s expression. The depths of the Marshal’s eyes flashed with an icy chill — like a spring that had lain frozen for a thousand years, utterly without warmth. Even as Shi Ting spoke of the loyalty the older generation of the Meng family had shown, the Marshal remained unmoved. Evidently, his resolve to pull out this thorn of the Meng family was as firm as a boulder.

The Marshal urged Shi Ting to rest and recover, then rose to his feet and departed.

“Did the Marshal only come to offer his condolences?” Yan Qing walked in with a smile, carrying a tray in her hands. On the tray sat two bowls of five-grain congee, two rice balls, and a few dishes of cool, refreshing small side dishes.

“Why did you take the work away from Murong and the others?” Shi Ting laughed and threw back the covers to get out of bed.

“While you two were talking, I went to the kitchen and made these.” Yan Qing pointed to the two rice balls. “I used cooked glutinous rice and regular rice to wrap fried crullers, dried pork floss, and pickled vegetables. Try one.”

This was the breakfast she had eaten often back in City S. That morning she had suddenly found herself wanting some, and since the kitchen happened to have fried crullers, she had made a few on a whim.

Shi Ting found that Yan Qing always seemed to conjure things he had never eaten or even heard of — and that they were invariably delicious.

He took a bite of the rice ball and offered his praise without reserve. “Delicious.”

Yan Qing watched with satisfaction as he finished a rice ball in just a few bites, and reminded him warmly, “Slow down — no one is competing with you.”

After the meal, Shi Ting finally said, “I just tested the waters a moment ago — the Marshal’s resolve to eliminate the Meng family is beyond all doubt.”

“He will make his move next, won’t he?”

“Meng Xiangyang has lost Liu Qingnian as his right-hand man without even knowing it. By now the Marshal should be turning his sights toward the other members of the Meng family.”

“What do we do then?”

“Wait.” Shi Ting wore a meaningful expression and slowly raised his teacup for a sip.

Yan Qing waited — and waited — but no unexpected news arrived. Instead, she found herself receiving an unannounced visit from Ling’ai.

Ling’ai brought several varieties of pastries from Di Guo, arriving with great cheer to seek out Yan Qing.

“I heard you were back, and I wanted to come find you at the first opportunity — but a guest arrived at home, and Father asked me to accompany them, so I couldn’t get away for a while.” Ling’ai was anxious for Yan Qing not to misunderstand and hurried to explain.

“Who is this important guest?” Yan Qing asked with a smile.

Ling’ai smiled sweetly, her beautiful eyes curving upward.

“Someone from Di Guo or Xin Guo?”

“From Di Guo — he lived next door to us when we were small children, and we often played together. But after I followed Father to Xin Guo, several years passed without my seeing him.” Ling’ai spoke of this person with great happiness. “His name is Nagase. He is four years older than me. He came to Xin Guo this time to handle business on behalf of my father.”

“A marriage proposal?”

“No, no, no.” Ling’ai gave her a vexed little tap. “Don’t talk nonsense. I call him ‘Nagase-gege’ — I’ve always treated him as an older brother, from childhood until now.”

Yan Qing took a sip of tea, her gaze growing distant. “You may think of it that way — but he doesn’t necessarily. Perhaps he came specifically for…”

Ling’ai widened her eyes, waiting for the rest.

“…your father’s sake.” Yan Qing let her voice soften.

Ling’ai knew she was teasing her deliberately, and moved toward her to tickle her. “You — Yan Qing — how dare you tease me. Just see how I deal with you.”

The two of them began frolicking and laughing in the pavilion.

“Young Mistress.” A voice reached them, and Yan Qing finally stopped, exchanging a glance with Ling’ai. Both of them were barely suppressing their laughter.

Murong watched her own Young Mistress laugh so openly and happily and could not help but feel quietly moved. The Young Mistress was always composed and serene by nature — beyond Miss Qiao Yiran, she had almost no friends. Now, seeing her and Ling’ai together like this, so cheerful, Murong naturally felt delighted.

“Young Mistress, the Young Master has sent a message through Jin Shan — he asks you to come to Qingyuan Manor.”

“Has something happened?”

“It seems there has been a murder.”

* * *