After leaving the yamen, Wei Fu found his coachman already waiting outside. He lifted the hem of his robe and stepped into the carriage, only to freeze the moment he raised one corner of the curtain.
A hand wrapped in a leather bracer reached out from inside the carriage. It was long-fingered and cleanly shaped, with well-defined knuckles, beautiful without lacking strength, and even had the leisure to crook its fingers at him in a beckoning gesture.
But no matter how beautiful that hand was, it had no business appearing inside a carriage that was supposed to be empty.
Seeing him pause, the coachman turned his head in confusion. Yet from the corner of his eye, he saw only a flash of crimson before a muffled thump came from inside the carriage.
“What just flew in there? Young Master! Young Master, are you all right?”
Wei Fu: “……I’m fine. Let’s go.”
Bracing one hand against the carriage wall, Wei Fu loomed over the young man in black in a decidedly undignified posture. His sleeves swayed down and brushed across the other man’s nose and cheek. The man beneath him remained perfectly composed, looking up at him as though he had not been the one to suddenly drag Wei Fu inside just moments ago, and casually swept Wei Fu’s overly long sleeve aside.
The dim, swaying, slightly cramped carriage.
The faintly luminous pale hair.
And his eyes.
Even in his dreams, Wei Fu could never have imagined such an absurd scene. He racked his brains for a long while and still could not come up with an appropriate greeting. He could hardly say, “Good morning. Are you out being a thief again today?” The clear and orderly mind he had used to deal with He Qingshang earlier seemed to have suddenly turned into a melon. Afraid of alerting the coachman, he lowered his voice to a breathy whisper.
“What are you doing here?”
Even with Wei Fu looming over him and pinning him into the corner in such an imposing posture—especially since Wei Fu was taller than most—the other man showed no sign of wariness. With his face tilted upward, the loose strands of hair fell aside, revealing handsome brows and eyes that rarely saw daylight. His expression remained perfectly calm as he asked, almost teasingly, “Are you going to stay like this?”
That faintly arrogant ease made one’s teeth itch just looking at it. Irritation suddenly rose in Wei Fu’s chest. He leaned lower and pressed closer, staring directly into the man’s eyes as he said in a low voice, “Your Highness had better answer my question first.”
“Do you even need to ask? Isn’t the answer obvious?” Yugong Zhaoye replied with complete confidence. “I’m following you.”
Wei Fu: “……”
“Why are you following me?” His voice rose involuntarily before he immediately lowered it again in alarm. “The Longsha delegation is entering the palace tonight for an audience. Your Highness still has time to follow me around?”
The carriage was cramped, and Wei Fu was tall. His back began to ache after only a short while bent over like this. Even if my back gives out today, I absolutely cannot lose momentum.
He was just about to refuse sternly when Yugong Zhaoye suddenly hooked a foot behind his leg.
Caught completely off guard, Wei Fu lost his balance and pitched forward, about to crash squarely onto Yugong Zhaoye. In a panic, he reached out for something to brace himself against. Yugong Zhaoye caught his flailing hand out of thin air, pulled and redirected him, then pushed his shoulder with his right hand, smoothly dispersing the force of his fall. Wei Fu spun half a turn where he stood before dropping solidly onto the seat with a thump.
Wei Fu: “……”
Yugong Zhaoye calmly glanced at him, his eyes practically saying, Stop making a fuss, then casually explained what he had been up to. “I went by Han Shao’s residence earlier. Several members of the Egret Guard are secretly protecting him, so it looks like there’s nothing to worry about there. Since I was already out, I thought I might as well come see whether you were safe too.”
Wei Fu opened his mouth, wanting to say, I may be safe, but Xiling seems to be in danger.
The Minister-Regent appointed to go to Longsha was Supervising Secretary Han Shao, while Wei Fu was the deputy envoy. That roster was supposed to be announced at the banquet that very night, yet Yugong Zhaoye had just recited it as though it were common knowledge. This proved that Longsha’s informants had already infiltrated the Imperial City itself. Yugong Zhaoye could come and go right under the noses of the Egret Guard whenever he pleased, while Wei Fu himself had been followed the entire way without noticing a thing… In Yugong Zhaoye’s eyes, Fengdu’s defenses were probably no sturdier than paper.
Wei Fu drew a deep breath and steadied himself, warning himself not to act rashly. Yugong Zhaoye seemed to see straight through his thoughts and considerately explained, “Don’t worry. I didn’t sneak into your emperor’s study. One of your chancellors simply drank too much and let it slip.”
“……Much obliged for Your Highness’s concern, and thank you for the reminder.” Wei Fu’s temples throbbed violently, and he felt as though his three souls and seven spirits were about to be flattened out. “Since when have you been following me?”
“Since yesterday, when you went out to Tongshi Apothecary.” Yugong Zhaoye found him rather interesting. He was clearly holding back so much anger that he looked ready to pounce and bite, yet the moment he heard something conciliatory, he still instinctively said thank you. “I didn’t expect Young Master Wei to be so accomplished at investigating cases as well. You had that Deputy Prefect dancing exactly to your tune. As long as he follows the line of reasoning you laid out, there’ll be no shortage of fish taking the bait.”
So Yugong Zhaoye had been secretly watching him for two days.
Wei Fu sighed. “I told you that even if Your Highness refused to tell me the truth, I would still find a way to uncover the facts of the case.”
“And I didn’t interfere with you, did I?” Yugong Zhaoye replied calmly. “If anything, I was the one who was surprised.”
It had merely been a case that happened to appear before him. Yet because there was the slightest hint of suspicion, this refined civil official had personally gone to the scene, questioned witnesses, and, after grasping the general outline, even taken the initiative to visit the prefectural yamen and help the investigating official sort through the logic.
If every minister in Xiling were this capable, the day Mu Heng unified all beneath Heaven truly would not be far off.
“Why did you suspect Xu Shifu was a follower of the Ten Aspects Sect? As far as I know, the Ten Aspects Sect isn’t particularly conspicuous in Xiling. Most people wouldn’t think in that direction, yet you seem unusually concerned about it.”
“A malignant tumor like that deserves to be eradicated by anyone who finds it. There’s nothing more to say.” Wei Fu countered, “Besides, wasn’t the reason I started thinking along those lines because Your Highness appeared in someone else’s rear courtyard for no apparent reason?”
Yugong Zhaoye met his gaze.
After several silent breaths, he suddenly smiled with an almost contemplative amusement. He probably did not smile often. His eyes remained cold, with only the corners of his lips perfunctorily curving upward, giving him a faintly wicked air that suggested no good intentions.
“I only said you were ‘concerned.’ I never said you ‘hated’ it. Besides, I’m merely an idle prince. I’ve only just arrived in your country. It’s perfectly normal for me to wander around and have a look. So how can Young Master Wei be so certain there’s something fishy about that apothecary?”
Wei Fu: “…”
For the third time, he was rendered speechless.
At last, he understood. Yugong Zhaoye had come today specifically to dig all the way to the bottom of the matter. So long as Wei Fu refused to confess, this man would keep tormenting him until he finally heard an answer he found satisfactory.
“I know you’re an assassin of Bihua, and I know Bihua is still operating in secret.”
Wei Fu reluctantly conceded with a faint sigh and spread his hands. “But Your Highness, if you hadn’t insisted on getting to the bottom of things, I could have simply pretended I knew nothing.”
“Fortunately, I asked.”
The short dagger slid against his throat like a cold, silent serpent.
“After all, you know far too much, Young Master Wei.”
Yugong Zhaoye moved far too quickly. Wei Fu had neither time to evade nor any actual ability to do so. He merely furrowed his brows and studied him suspiciously.
“Let’s put our cards on the table.” Yugong Zhaoye spoke with impeccable courtesy, as though they were merely discussing terms. “When did you find out? And where have we met before?”
“Are you going to kill me?” Wei Fu lowered his eyes toward the hand holding the dagger.
“That depends on your answer.” Yugong Zhaoye lightly tapped the side of his neck with the flat of the blade. “Given the situation right now, I don’t particularly want to cause too much trouble in Fengdu. But once you arrive in Longsha, doing whatever I want will be much easier.”
“Oh,” Wei Fu said. “Then go ahead and guess.”
Yugong Zhaoye: “?”
As the saying went, the soft feared the hard, the hard feared the fierce, and the fierce feared those who did not care whether they lived or died.
It was not as though Yugong Zhaoye had never encountered an uncooperative opponent before, but someone like Wei Fu, who simply decided the pot was already broken and might as well smash it completely, was genuinely rare. During the brief instant Yugong Zhaoye was caught off guard, Wei Fu suddenly seized his wrist and frowned.
“Why does the carriage smell like blood? Are you injured?”
Did he have a dog’s nose or something?
Yugong Zhaoye sniffed the air. All he could smell was the fragrant, slightly bitter scent of gentian incense, and only because he and Wei Fu were sitting so close that it drifted from the other man’s body.
“Why can’t I smell it?”
“You can’t smell it because you’ve already been marinated in it.” Wei Fu behaved as though there were no dagger resting against his neck at all. He pulled Yugong Zhaoye closer and inspected him front and back before finally wiping a hand over his upper left arm and coming away with a smear of fresh blood.
“It seeped through?” Yugong Zhaoye looked at Wei Fu’s open palm, then turned his head to examine his own black sleeve. His attitude was as calm as though he were casually marking a document “Reviewed.” “It’s fine. It’ll dry in a while.”
Wei Fu had restrained himself again and again, but this time he was genuinely angry. He almost wanted to slap Yugong Zhaoye straight across the face and even forgot to keep his voice down.
“Wait for it to dry on its own? Why don’t you wait for the King of Hell to come up and bandage it for you personally?”
“It’s a minor wound.” Yugong Zhaoye remained unconcerned. “Aren’t you going to wipe your hand? It’ll be harder to clean once the blood dries.”
“If you have that much leisure, Your Highness, you’d be better off worrying about yourself.” Wei Fu snapped back coldly. “You know your arm is injured and you’re still yanking people around. Do you think that arm of yours is too sturdy and needs ruining?”
Yugong Zhaoye’s temperament could only be described as much closer to donkeys, dogs, and certain varieties of rock than to an ordinary human being. Even gentle concern might not earn his appreciation, much less sarcasm with thorns hidden in every word.
Yet for once, he unexpectedly did not argue back.
He silently watched Wei Fu grab his left arm, swiftly remove the leather bracer, and shove layer after layer of sleeve upward. Only when Wei Fu was about to expose the wound did Yugong Zhaoye finally come back to himself and press down on his hand in disbelief.
“What are you doing?”
Wei Fu did not answer. He did not even raise his eyes. Without the slightest courtesy, he brushed Yugong Zhaoye’s hand aside and pulled back the sleeve, revealing white bandages completely soaked through with blood.
He drew an almost imperceptible breath.
“This is what you call a minor wound?”
Perhaps stunned by Wei Fu’s sudden forcefulness, Yugong Zhaoye gave a dry, “Ah.”
Clearly, that answer did not satisfy Young Master Wei.
With a loud bang, Wei Fu yanked open one of the carriage’s small drawers, pulled out two spare white silk handkerchiefs, then rummaged noisily through a collection of bottles and jars until he produced a thick-walled white porcelain bottle with a red seal.
“What’s that?” Yugong Zhaoye asked.
Wei Fu spat out the answer coldly.
“Wound medicine.”
A pampered young master from an illustrious family like Wei Fu had probably never even witnessed the slaughtering of a chicken or fish, much less seen a bloody wound like this. Yugong Zhaoye had no idea where he found either the courage or the kindness. His brows were furrowed tightly enough to crush a mosquito between them, yet he stubbornly insisted on removing the blood-soaked old bandage, exposing the gruesome dark-red wound beneath.
The cut was approximately three cun long and quite deep. The flesh around it was slightly red and swollen. A thin scab had originally formed over it, but thanks to a certain someone having no sense of restraint and insisting on reckless movements, the wound had split open again through the middle, and blood was spilling out as though it cost nothing.
Elio’s Notes: A cun is a traditional Chinese unit of length; three cun here is roughly 10 cm (about 4 inches).
Wei Fu pressed a clean handkerchief against the wound to stop the bleeding. Even with the greatest care, it should still have hurt considerably, yet Yugong Zhaoye did not so much as twitch a brow. Instead, he continued asking curiously, “Do you normally carry wound medicine with you?”
“For emergencies. See? It came in handy.” Wei Fu handed him the bottle and gestured for him to pull out the stopper. “If you’re out in the wilderness somewhere and happen to get hurt and bleed without any wound medicine, then all you can do is…”
He abruptly bit off the rest of the sentence, as though regretting the words the moment they left his mouth.
“All you can do is what?” Yugong Zhaoye asked.
Wei Fu lifted his eyes and quietly cast him a sidelong look.
For some reason, there seemed to be an indescribable trace of resentment in that gaze, almost as though it were saying, Just you wait. It made Yugong Zhaoye inexplicably uncomfortable, as though without realizing it he had somehow played the part of a heartless, faithless scoundrel.
Wei Fu mercilessly dumped a generous mound of wound medicine onto the cut and said irritably, “Then all you can do is grab a handful of dirt from the ground and sprinkle it on.”
Yugong Zhaoye: “……”
What exactly is he angry about?
It was expensive, high-quality medicine. Within the span of a few blinks, the bleeding had stopped. Wei Fu wrapped the wound again with clean white silk, lowered Yugong Zhaoye’s sleeve, then casually took the leather bracer and fastened it back into place.
“Who injured you? The wound is so fresh, it can only have happened within the past couple of days… Did you fight someone in Fengdu?”
Yugong Zhaoye had already given up resisting and simply extended his arm for Wei Fu to manipulate as he pleased.
Wei Fu’s head was slightly lowered. Yugong Zhaoye watched his clean, intent profile, and something suddenly stirred in his heart. It was as though a pool of deep water that had lain utterly still for years had finally been brushed by a spring breeze again, awakening a long-lost tremor of familiarity.
When he did not answer, Wei Fu lifted his head and glanced at him. “Was it the person who met Xu Shifu at Tongshi Apothecary that night?”
Yugong Zhaoye’s gaze drifted toward the roof of the carriage.
Wei Fu tightened the final clasp of the bracer, smoothed the creases from his sleeve, and restored him to his original neat appearance before quietly letting out a long breath.
For some reason, Yugong Zhaoye found himself relaxing along with him.
Then, without warning, Wei Fu asked:
“The silk merchant Song Man in Xianglian City—the assassination, and the fires at his residence and country estate… those were Bihua’s work too, weren’t they?”
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