Chapter Fifty-Eight: Yan Qing (2)

“By the way, did you find the person?”
“Yes, found him. He’s already been sent back,” Wei Zhuang replied calmly.
Yan Qing let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.” Wei Zhuang looked at him with some confusion, about to ask why he cared so much about the assassin, when Yan Qing spoke, “I met the heir yesterday.” Wei Zhuang was startled. Yan Qing continued, “He was the one following the little girl who came to see you.”
Wei Zhuang tilted his head, trying to recall, but the memory eluded him. “It was too dark last night, I didn’t notice him.”
Yan Qing smiled. “I almost didn’t recognize him either. I knew he was in the capital, but never expected he’d slip into the Ye residence.”
Wei Zhuang gave a soft laugh. “I’ve long heard the heir possesses the decisive temperament of the Sixth Prince. Seeing him now, he truly stands out.”
Yan Qing laughed quietly as well, leaning back into his chair. “The Sixth Prince sent me to the capital this time to win over the court officials. He even said the heir would fulfill my every need. Looks like I’ll be stirring up quite the storm here.”
Wei Zhuang looked down at the clear water in his cup, swirling it gently. “Seems you’ll turn the capital upside down once again.”
Yan Qing burst into hearty laughter. “You flatter me, sir. I have no other hobby but being a troublemaker. If I don’t throw the capital into chaos, I won’t rest easy.”
Wei Zhuang frowned in displeasure. “That metaphor is hardly refined.”
Yan Qing laughed again. “But earlier, you said you’re only interested in helping the prince gather funds and win over merchants, nothing else. Does that still hold?”
Wei Zhuang looked up at him. “Why wouldn’t it? You know my only interest is money; the rest is fleeting. I chose to help the Sixth Prince because it’s profitable. Otherwise, why would I wade into these murky waters?”
Yan Qing’s smile faded as he gazed at Wei Zhuang with utmost seriousness. “This time, I’m starting with Ye Yuan Dao. You mustn’t stand in my way.”
Wei Zhuang’s body stiffened. He lowered his gaze, fiddling with the white jade ring on his finger. His tone was calm. “I won’t interfere in what you do. But they have shown me kindness. If one day they come to seek my help, I will assist them with my own strength, without betraying you. As for the outcome, that’s up to fate.”
Yan Qing leaned to the other side, a hint of admiration at his lips. “Do you know what I value most about you, sir? It’s this—never letting emotion sway you. I even believe that if I plotted against your family, you’d still help them from an observer’s perspective, rather than try to stop me.”
Wei Zhuang rose and walked to the other side of the room. Through the thin paper window, he could faintly see a stream flowing from the mountain, wild peach blossoms blooming in profusion across the slopes—though not as unruly as those at Ten Mile Hill. Here, they seemed touched by Buddhist incense, serene and full of Zen, Wei Zhuang smiled softly, like a breeze through the mountain ravine. “You overpraise.”
When he left Shuanglin Temple, night had already fallen. The sky was dark and studded with stars; a new moon quietly climbed the willow branches. The streets were bustling, people coming and going, various stalls scattered along the roadside. Small groups paused before the vendors. The evening wind blew, his robe fluttering. The ache in his shoulder lingered; his left hand covered his right, and he thought of Ye Qianran, wondering what she was doing at that moment. This thought flashed through his mind, and Wei Zhuang shook his head with a wry smile, refusing to dwell on it, turning instead to watch the street stalls and passersby.

Meanwhile, the Ye residence welcomed two rare guests: Wu Ling and his father, Wu Duan.

In the reception hall, Ye Yuan Dao sat at the head, neither warm nor cold in his hospitality. Wu Duan kept smiling apologetically. “As soon as I heard, I sent people to find your daughter. Thankfully, she returned safe and sound. Otherwise, Ling’er’s guilt would be great. I hope, for the sake of our past friendship, you won’t pursue this further. Rest assured, when we return, I’ll teach him well. He won’t dare commit such folly again.”
Ye Yuan Dao smiled, but his words were tinged with coldness. “Luckily, nothing happened. Had anything truly occurred, who could bear that responsibility? Prime Minister Wu, you really should discipline your son more.”
Wu Duan kept smiling, but Wu Ling could no longer bear the humiliation. He abruptly stood to speak disrespectfully, only to be stopped by his father’s low voice. “Ling’er, what are you doing? Hurry and apologize to your Uncle Ye.”

Wu Ling looked at his father with reluctance. “Ling’er,” Wu Duan urged him again with his eyes.
Unwillingly, Wu Ling bowed his head. “It was a moment of madness on my part that offended your daughter. I hope Uncle Ye will give me a chance to mend my ways.”
Wu Duan’s face was plastered with smiles. “Ling’er has admired your daughter for a long time. His failed courtship led to his momentary folly. Young people are often impulsive. Thankfully, your daughter is unharmed. Please, Brother Yuan Dao, forgive him.” His words were so humble that Ye Yuan Dao’s anger eased a little. He knew how difficult it was for Wu Duan to apologize in person; pressing further would seem petty. His tone softened. “Since Wu Ling knows his mistake, I won’t pursue it. I hope he will behave himself.”
Wu Duan glanced at Wu Ling beside him, lifting his chin. Wu Ling snorted coldly but still spoke as his father wished. “I will remember your teaching, Uncle Ye, and reflect deeply.”
When he finished, Wu Ling signaled the servant standing nearby. The servant immediately stepped forward with a gift. Wu Duan smiled, “I know you love collecting luminous pearls. This one from the East Sea is unique in the world. I wish to present it to you, as a token of my sincerity.”
“This…” Ye Yuan Dao was surprised. Under the candlelight, the pearl gleamed brilliantly and was exceedingly pleasing. He knew he should refuse, yet the words wouldn’t come. In his life, he had no other passion but collecting luminous pearls. Sometimes, he would pay three or four times their value just to acquire one.
“Prime Minister Wu, this gift is too precious. I really can’t accept…”
“Brother Yuan Dao, you’re wrong. However valuable it is, it’s just a gift—a token of my goodwill. Please don’t decline, or you’ll insult me,” Wu Duan gave him no chance to refuse.
In truth, Ye Yuan Dao could no longer refuse.
The pearl’s allure was far deeper than people realized.
Ye Yuan Dao signaled his steward, whispered something in his ear. The steward left and returned holding a box. Ye Yuan Dao told him to open it—a ruyi scepter, translucent as blood in the flickering candlelight.
“This…” Wu Duan was puzzled by its meaning.
“A gift for a gift. I hope you won’t refuse, otherwise I would feel undeserving of yours.”
Wu Duan laughed heartily. “Since you insist, I will accept it gratefully.” He signaled the servant to take it, then stood to bid farewell. Ye Yuan Dao did not urge them to stay.
No sooner had Wu Ling got into the carriage than he voiced his dissatisfaction to his father. “Father, is it really necessary to humble yourself so much? He’s just a wealthy merchant. Is he worth such deference?”
“Impudent! Is this how you speak to your father?” Wu Duan’s smile vanished, replaced by a stern, icy expression.
“Father…” Wu Ling exclaimed in disbelief, for Wu Duan had never been so severe.
“How many times have I told you to keep a low profile, stay hidden, yet you never listen. Now, I’m left to clean up your mess. Ye Yuan Dao is nothing, yet I must be so humble.” His tone was chilling, utterly unlike before.
Wu Ling grumbled angrily, “I think Ye Yuan Dao is getting above himself. His daughter is perfectly fine, but my shoulder’s been injured, and he still tells me to behave.”
Mentioning the injury softened Wu Duan’s expression a little. “How is your wound? Is it serious?”
Wu Ling’s eyes flashed with malice. “It’s nothing, but this humiliation, this grudge, I will repay them double one day.”
Wu Duan patted his uninjured shoulder comfortingly. “The court is in turmoil now, nothing is certain. Once the matter of the princes is settled, I won’t stop you from doing whatever you wish.”

By mid-April, news arrived from the southwest: three hundred thousand troops had been utterly defeated.
Lan Tian, Zhuge Liuyun, and Zhu Chi retreated to Hubei’s Lingxian, Zhuxian, and Huzhou counties, forming a triangular defense, barricading themselves and awaiting imperial reinforcements.
The imperial court was in uproar, and the young emperor finally felt real pressure.
Yan Qing had been waiting for this moment.
The court’s defeat sent panic through the people; every official was calculating his own interests. The heir’s Cold Night Guard gathered intelligence in every corner of the capital. He already knew whom he could win over and whom he must avoid entirely. Now, with the Sixth Prince victorious, those who had been on the fence could be easily persuaded.
For those he needed but couldn’t win over, he would have to use both carrot and stick.
For more than a month, Wei Zhuang had been visiting the Ye residence frequently, sometimes staying for meals, making time to see Ye Qianran and speak with her. Ever since he saved her, Ye Yuan Dao valued him even more.
One day, when he first asked Ye Qianran for her thoughts on the defeat at the front, she was sitting by the pond feeding fish. The sky over the capital was blue as if washed by water. It was the season of blooming flowers and drifting willow catkins. The breeze rippled the lake, lifting her jet-black hair. She looked at the fish food in her hands and smiled softly. “Victory and defeat are the common lot of soldiers.” Her voice, drawn thin by the wind, sounded gentle to his ears.
Her serenity was unexpected; he asked, surprised, “Are you not worried about him at all?”
He, of course, referred to Liuyun.
Ye Qianran tilted her head, watching the fish compete for food in the lake. “Whether he wins or loses makes no difference to me. What I care about is him as a person. As long as he isn’t hurt or killed in the war, I have nothing to worry about.”
Wei Zhuang lowered his head and smiled. “I thought you’d be restless, unable to eat or sleep, anxious all day. Seems my concern was unnecessary.”
Ye Qianran set the dish on the carved railing, dusted her hands, stood up, and, facing Wei Zhuang—who was a head taller—smiled gently, her gaze passing through him to the distant horizon. “When I first heard the news, I was exactly as you described—unable to eat or sleep, living in constant fear, terrified he’d be hurt or something would happen to him. Those thoughts grew like weeds in my mind, driving me mad.” She shifted, “But one night, I woke suddenly and realized: he’s a general, destined to deal with war all his life. If I keep worrying, I’ll wither before he even returns. I should trust him to look after himself, not torment myself with pointless fears.”
After she finished, she looked up to gauge his reaction, and found him staring at her, his gaze so complex she couldn’t decipher it. He asked quietly, “You love him so much you’ve tied your own future to his?”
Ye Qianran tilted her head, puzzled by his question. “Didn’t you always know how much I liked him?”
Wei Zhuang lowered his head, as if recalling something, and smiled. “I knew you liked him, but I thought… who could have guessed… I believed I understood you, but it seems I do not.” The smile was tinged with faint disappointment and self-mockery. Ye Qianran refused to wonder why, for that was something she neither needed nor wanted to understand.
The drifting clouds above were soft and tranquil. She looked down at the intricate patterns embroidered on Wei Zhuang’s dark blue robe. Wei Zhuang silently watched her lowered face, sunlight glimmering on the rippling lake behind, willows swaying in the wind, the air moist and warm. Yet he felt a chill pour down from above.
From then on, Ye Qianran did not see him for a long time.