Lin Yan couldn’t return home that night. The high-ranking court officials rushed to the palace despite the night curfew. The Emperor and his ministers discussed the Prince of Zhao’s treason case under the imperial court, both to report the situation and deliberate countermeasures.
The Northern Capital occupied a strategic military position, bordering several protectorates to the north and the Three Commands of Hebei to the east. The Prince of Zhao had long resided in the Northern Capital with military authority, and now that his collusion with the Hu people was known, if he raised an army, warfare might engulf half of the northern territory.
However, the situation wasn’t entirely dire.
The Prince of Zhao was elderly and had suffered from asthma in recent years. Of his four sons, his eldest legitimate son had died in a horse-riding accident; his second son was imprisoned for “defiance”; his third son was weak and incompetent, uninvolved in military affairs; and his fourth son, born to his favorite concubine—the currently missing Li Rui—was most beloved.
The various divisions of Hedong were ultimately imperial troops, and their relationship with the Prince of Zhao wasn’t absolute. Near the Northern Capital were also the imperial Yanmen and Guannei armies. If they could capture Li Rui, disturb the Prince of Zhao’s state of mind, drive a wedge between him and his commanded divisions, and stabilize the Three Commands of Hebei, victory wouldn’t be difficult with the main army joining forces with the Yanmen and Guannei armies in a three-sided encirclement.
The ministers discussed victory strategies with a sense of unity. In other situations, there might have been peace advocates at court, but this was a case of treason and regicide—even those most opposed to internal warfare wouldn’t dare utter the word “peace.” Everyone focused on how to suppress the Prince of Zhao—Li Rui had been quite perceptive on this point, as the annual gifts he sent to the capital’s noble officials proved useless.
The discussion lasted half the night. With strategies decided and the framework for troop movements and personnel arrangements in place, the finer details would wait until tomorrow—the elderly ministers couldn’t endure such late hours. When the court discussion ended after the midnight hour, barely two hours remained before the morning court session. The Emperor, considerate of his elderly ministers, offered them rest in the side palace, but they ultimately joined Lin Yan and other young officials at the administrative quarters in the imperial city.
Walking along the palace corridor, Lin Yan stayed beside Minister Li, occasionally supporting him on the steps. Li Yue gripped his hand firmly, and they exchanged a glance, understanding each other without words.
The next day brought another shock to the court.
But these matters had little to do with Shen Shao Guang, a tavern proprietress whose establishment had been the scene of a criminal incident. Beyond cooperating with official investigations, she had only to deal with the aftermath of her establishment.
Looking at the damaged tables and screens, shattered pottery everywhere, and the injured waiter with his hurt arm, Shen Shao Guang could only smile bitterly and console herself that at least neither her staff nor the innocent customers had suffered serious injuries, especially the scholars who had examinations in a few days.
Shen Shao Guang felt this incident was truly a blow to her tavern. The carefully planned “Millennium” celebratory feast had failed before it began—not to mention the ill fortune and psychological shadow it cast. Who would want to participate next year?
Shao Jie disagreed: “This is a meritorious deed of saving the Emperor! You should have told me yesterday. Had I known, I would have stayed here.” He appeared quite passionate about it.
Given the previous hostage situation, Lin Yan had initially forbidden Shen Shao Guang from appearing at the East Market tavern yesterday, but she felt that as the owner who had been involved throughout, her absence might arouse suspicion. Still, she had left early as planned. Before leaving, hoping to save whoever she could, she had called for Shao Jie, saying only that she had important matters to discuss.
Afterward, when Shao Jie learned the truth, he could only express regret.
As it turned out, Shao Jie wasn’t alone in this sentiment.
When Shen’s tavern opened its doors, with the owner, manager, waiters, cooks, and other servants cleaning inside and out, and the capital prefecture’s officers present, customers from yesterday came to inquire. News of the Prince of Zhao had spread throughout the city. Those who had been present were initially confused, then frightened, but as things settled and the imperial guards conducted their search amid citywide discussion, many scholars became excited.
They stood in the damaged tavern, at the scene of yesterday’s events, analyzing the Prince of Zhao’s wolfish ambitions and next moves, discussing the military distribution near the Northern Capital, debating who might lead if the court launched a campaign, and considering specific strategic tactics. They were filled with scholarly passion for putting the world first, establishing security for the common people, and relieving their sovereign’s worries.
At passionate moments, someone would call for brush and ink, wanting to write a proclamation for the campaign on the spot.
Others called for wine, with the intention of “joining the army with a toast” after breaking their cups.
The young lady of Shen’s tavern was quite clever, providing brush and ink when asked, wine when requested, and crucially, speaking well: “It’s precisely because of gentlemen like yourselves, who forget their families to worry about the nation and keep the realm in their hearts, that common folk like us can live in peace.”
National concerns were the ultimate passion of Confucian scholars, and Shen Shao Guang’s words struck exactly the right chord. The atmosphere grew more impassioned, with several scholars composing poems. They all agreed to gather here again next year at this time, regardless of whether they passed the examinations.
“We may never become senior officials, but as scholars, we dare not forget even for a moment our ‘loyal hearts serving the sovereign, worrying for the nation as our home,'” one scholar declared.
Thus, they discussed changing the Celebratory Feast to the Loyal Hearts Feast.
Shen Shao Guang clapped her hands, “What an excellent change!”
When Shao Jie returned from the Market Commissioner’s office and saw this scene, he too joined in the passionate discourse. In private, he teased Shen Shao Guang, “What did I tell you? You’re just a young lady, you don’t understand us men.”
Shen Shao Guang: “…”
They didn’t know at the time that in the subsequent palace examination following the ministry examination, the Emperor would use this timely topic of suppressing the North for the policy essay. With today’s events as a foundation, many scholars gathered here would perform exceptionally well. Though the “Loyal Hearts Feast” had changed its name, it gained deeper meaning and historical significance, and as Shen Shao Guang had hoped, it was passed down year after year, becoming an essential gathering for scholars before the examinations.
While Shao Jie mocked Shen Shao Guang, Lin Yan praised her heavily.
The imperial guards’ search of the Prince of Zhao’s residence continued through the night and half the next day. Though they caught several suspicious individuals, questioning revealed none was Li Rui. They could only pursue him based on his description.
A citywide manhunt required cooperation from the ward chiefs and military inspectors, which fell under the Capital Prefecture’s jurisdiction.
Given Li Rui’s importance, Qin Xiang personally coordinated with the Capital Prefecture on this matter.
Looking at Li Rui’s wanted poster, Lin Yan frowned slightly. The image showed a handsome youth with beautiful phoenix eyes, noting he was twenty-four years old, seven chi tall, with a jujube-sized birthmark behind his ear. At this time, many wanted posters like this, or even worse. Such images could be used for screening, but finding someone quickly in a vast crowd would be extremely difficult.
Lin Yan suddenly remembered Shen Shao Guang’s remarkably accurate drawings. “Young Lady Shen has seen Li Rui. She’s always attentive and might remember other details. Moreover, she’s skilled at drawing. Perhaps the General could have someone ask her.”
Hearing him speak so intimately without reserve, Qin Xiang raised an eyebrow.
Lin Yan smiled: “Young Lady Shen is my fiancée.”
“In that case, I should go personally,” Qin Xiang said with a smile, showing respect to Lin Yan.
“I’ll accompany the General,” Lin Yan replied.
Despite his anxiety, Qin Xiang smiled—ah, young men…
Having just bid farewell to the patriotic scholars, they now welcomed the Commander of the Imperial Guards and the Assistant Capital Governor. Shen Shao Guang bowed to them, stealing glances at Lin Yan, whose eyes were slightly red, stubble showing—looking like an overworked creature, yet his youth and good looks gave him a somewhat disheveled charm—or rather, sexiness.
Lin Yan just gazed at her tenderly.
“Ahem—” Qin Xiang cleared his throat.
Shen Shao Guang smiled at Qin Xiang. During her long service as a palace maid, she had only seen this powerful figure in the Imperial Guards twice, but since leaving the palace, she had seen him more often. There were many impressive rumors about General Qin, but now he seemed quite approachable.
Qin Xiang explained his purpose, “Assistant Governor Lin says the young lady is detail-oriented and skilled at drawing. Could we trouble you to help draw an image of Li Rui?”
Shen Shao Guang was somewhat surprised that Li Rui had escaped pursuit—he hadn’t seemed particularly shrewd or cautious, though, on second thought, he had benefited from his status, as Master Qiao would ensure his safety regardless.
“I dare not refuse the General’s command. Please wait a moment,” Shen Shao Guang said formally.
Shen Shao Guang had studied portrait sketching, though her skill wasn’t particularly high—in modern times, she might earn barely fifty yuan a day doing street portraits at ten yuan each. However, for a wanted poster at this time, it was more than adequate—even impressive.
Qin Xiang was amazed: “How did the young lady draw it so accurately?” With such an image, combined with the sharp eyes of searchers, Li Rui could be recognized even in disguise. The drawing was exceptionally good!
Unable to explain it was from her previous life, Shen Shao Guang laughed nervously, “Perhaps because I’m—detail-oriented?”
Lin Yan gave her a reproachful look—being mischievous again! Yet he couldn’t help but curl his lips in a smile.
Qin Xiang hadn’t intended to probe, merely expressing amazement and praise. Hearing her echo Lin Yan’s words about being detail-oriented, and seeing their meaningful glances, Qin Xiang inwardly clicked his tongue—these young men and women nowadays…
After the pleasantries, Qin Xiang asked Shen Shao Guang if she remembered anything else.
Shen Shao Guang said: “I’ve heard a term called ‘comfort zone’—people tend to stay in places where they feel comfortable and safe. I’ve encountered Fourth Young Master Li twice. In my view, he displays his intelligence openly and shows some pride, likely from being raised with indulgence. Such people, when facing danger, are especially homesick. Even if he has multiple false identities allowing him to blend into the crowd, he’ll probably choose to hide somewhere connected to the Prince of Zhao’s residence—vacation homes, shops, or even servants’ houses.”
Thinking of Li Rui’s alluring phoenix eyes, Shen Shao Guang felt he might have another psychological comfort zone. “Fourth Young Master Li seems somewhat—romantic in nature,” having been in this era for so long, Shen Shao Guang, as a young woman, still felt awkward discussing such matters, “Perhaps the General and Assistant Governor could have people investigate pleasure houses and such. He might feel safe in such places.”
Qin Xiang was increasingly amazed and laughed in praise: “The young lady seems quite the criminal investigation expert. If you were a man, I would certainly recommend you to the Court of Judicial Review or the Ministry of Justice. We could use such talent in the Imperial Guards.” He shook his head somewhat regretfully.
Shen Shao Guang expressed her thanks, and Lin Yan smiled, though subtle, Qin Xiang could see some pride in it.
Qin Xiang felt somewhat sympathetic toward him—you’re so pleased now, but if you have any different thoughts in the future, such a wife might be difficult to hide things from… Then again, Qin Xiang remembered that beautiful ambush. These two were well-matched. Qin Xiang suddenly recalled Court Gentleman Han, who had been mocked by His Majesty a few days ago, chased from his home by his wife wielding a wooden staff. He wondered what it would look like if Young Lady Shen chased Assistant Governor Lin with a wooden staff.
Someone came to report, interrupting Qin Xiang’s “imagination.” He smiled at Lin Yan and Shen Shao Guang, “I have matters to attend to, so I won’t disturb you further.”
Lin Yan and Shen Shao Guang saw him out, with Shen Shao Guang saying: “In these two days, I will draw several more portraits to send over.”
“Then we’ll trouble the young lady,” Qin Xiang bid them farewell again and left with his men on horseback.
Lin Yan also had a pile of work to attend to and couldn’t stay long.
He smiled at Shen Shao Guang, who squinted back at him with a smile. For some people, just looking at them makes the heart happy, though of course, doing other things would make it even happier.
Lin Yan said gently: “I’m leaving, take care of yourself. Don’t find it troublesome to have people accompany you when going out. You can’t guess the hearts of some villains—be wary of their desperate actions.” When planning this matter, Lin Yan assigned several skilled attendants like Zhou Kui to Shen Shao Guang.
Shen Shao Guang nodded obediently, then stepped closer, squinting and laughing softly: “My lord—say something sweet?”
Lin Yan thought of the fox that had escaped during the hunt—when it saw small birds and animals fall into its trap, it probably looked just like this.
Yet Lin Yan was willing to be that small bird or animal. He pondered for a moment, lightly licked his lips, and said softly: “My Zhi—is the finest young lady under heaven.”
This time, Shen Shao Guang smiled like a fox who had just enjoyed a chicken feast.