Chapter 1
Great Jin, eighth year of Chengjing. Heavy snow blanketed the capital.
That night, a black horse galloped down the long, deserted street.
Song Wen stood beneath the eaves of the Marquis of Yong’an’s manor, carrying a lantern in one hand and a letter in his bosom, waiting anxiously. When he heard the sound of hoofbeats, he held the lantern in the direction of the approaching figure.
The man's black cloak was covered in snow. He raised a hand to lower his hood, revealing his face. His rare golden eyes met Song Wen's gaze. Upon closer inspection, however, it became clear that the golden hue was merely an illusion caused by the man’s pale irises reflecting the light of the lantern.
The man rode up to him at full gallop, his body radiating intense heat. The snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes melted into glistening droplets.
“My lord!” Song Wen called out, descending the steps in a few quick strides.
Yan Yunhe swiftly dismounted and tossed his riding crop to Song Wen before taking the letter from him. He tore it open and, after a quick look, his expression darkened.
Song Wen, ever perceptive, asked, “Did something happen at the camp?”
“Supervising Secretary Zhang Zheng has been imprisoned.” With that, Yan Yunhe hurried into the manor.
Song Wen had heard of Zhang Zheng. His service in the censorate had earned him his reputation as a righteous and uncompromising official, known for his fierce hatred for evil1 and corruption. He did not fear the powerful, and as such, he had stood up for the common people many times and impeached numerous officials within the court.
If it were an ordinary prison, Yan Yunhe wouldn’t look so grim. Song Wen asked, “Could he be in the Imperial Prison?”
The Imperial Prison, under the jurisdiction of the Embroidered Uniform Guard,2 was notorious in the capital. It was the nightmare of upright civil officials, known as a place of no return.
Yan Yunhe summoned an attendant to help him change out of his damp official robes. “Zhang Zheng submitted a memorial impeaching Grand Secretary Yuan yesterday, and tonight he was taken to prison.”
It wasn’t unusual for the Embroidered Uniform Guard to make arrests, but the timing of Zhang Zheng's arrest was rather suspicious.
The emperor had ascended the throne at the age of ten and had ruled for only eight years, yet the court remained firmly controlled by the empress dowager and Grand Secretary Yuan’s faction. The Embroidered Uniform Guard should have been under the Son of Heaven's control, but it was the empress dowager who directly appointed its commander. Thus, five years ago, the emperor personally established the Imperial Surveillance Bureau,3 granting them authority over palace security and intelligence gathering. This institution, initially a whim of the young emperor, had grown to rival the Embroidered Uniform Guard in power.
The empress dowager stood on equal footing with Grand Secretary Yuan. Their unexpected alliance was not a good sign.
“Should we inform His Majesty?” Song Wen asked.
Having accompanied the emperor all day, Yan Yunhe was so hungry he could hear his stomach rumbling. “The Imperial Surveillance Bureau should have already reported this to His Majesty. Bring me some snacks first. I need to visit the Zhou residence later.”
Song Wen went outside to instruct the servants. When he returned, he found his master had already changed into a black robe, his hair crown removed by an attendant, allowing his thick, curly black hair to cascade down, framing his cheeks.
Yan Yunhe bore dense eyebrows, a straight, high-bridged nose, and long, thick lashes. His eyes, with their faint golden glint, could only be described as exceptionally beautiful. Unfortunately, after several years stationed at the frontier, his skin had darkened slightly from the harsh trials of the battlefield.
For some reason, fair skin and delicate features were all the rage in the capital. This had been a major disadvantage for his master, who had once been renowned as one of the most handsome men in the city before his time in the frontier.
The thought of the person who had caused this shift in the capital’s aesthetic standards made Song Wen’s face stiffen, and he couldn’t help grinding his teeth.
Yan Yunhe took a sip of ginger tea to dispel the chill that had settled in his bones. Noticing Song Wen’s expression, he asked, “Who’s upset you?”
“The commander in chief must be so pleased tonight that he won’t be able to sleep,” Song Wen sneered. “He’s earned a great merit in front of the grand secretary.”
Yan Yunhe frowned. “Be careful with your words.”
The Embroidered Uniform Guard’s reach was ubiquitous; even Yan Yunhe couldn’t guarantee their spies weren't lurking in his own residence.
After finishing his tea, Yan Yunhe changed into casual robes. Instead of riding his horse, he took a carriage to the Zhou residence.
Before they even reached the gate, Song Wen lifted the curtain and entered, his face pale with terror. He stammered as he said, “M-My lord, it’s... the Embroidered Uniform Guard!”
An ordinary officer of the Embroidered Uniform Guard wouldn’t have frightened Song Wen like this. As a retainer of the Marquis of Yong’an’s household, Song Wen had grown up alongside Yan Yunhe, so he was experienced in these matters. For him to be this terrified, the Embroidered Uniform Guard officer at the gate of the Zhou residence gate must hold a very high rank.
Yan Yunhe lifted the curtain and peered out. The first thing he saw was a porcelain-white, delicate hand, not holding a sword but an umbrella. Beneath the umbrella stood a figure clad in snow-white fox fur, pure and unblemished, a sacred relic bestowed by the emperor.
Such furs, typically reserved for the imperial harem, were now draped over a military officer’s shoulders. Everyone knew who had bestowed it upon him, and while they sneered in private, no one in the court dared voice their disapproval.
After all, who would dare gossip about the empress dowager’s personal affairs? Were they tired of living? Did they long for a trip to the Imperial Prison?
At the voices from the carriage, the umbrella shifted slightly, revealing the man’s profile.
Song Wen had seen the commander several times at the Donglin Academy4 years ago. Perhaps his memory had faded, but seeing him again, he still marveled at how a person could possess such extraordinary features.
Even the snow, piling like silver and jade, paled in comparison to his radiant beauty. Both he and the snow were breathtaking sights, yet admiring the man far surpassed appreciating the scenery.
How unjust heaven was, granting such a stunning appearance to a man with such a dark heart.
When the man’s gaze lifted in their direction, Song Wen nearly drowned in those eyes, his very soul seemed to be drawn away. Fortunately, his master gave him a firm pat on the back, snapping it back into his body.
Yan Yunhe dismounted from the carriage and approached the man holding the umbrella, scanning him from head to toe. His gaze lingered briefly on the man’s face before noting that he wasn’t wearing official robes beneath the fox fur. This confirmed that the man’s purpose here wasn’t to make an arrest, but rather to pay a visit.
“Lord Yu, how do you still have a mind to stand here admiring the snow at a time like this?” Yan Yunhe asked with a soft smile.
Shouldn't he be questioning Zhang Zheng under torture in the Imperial Prison?
The man’s presence here at this late hour suggested he had been turned away from the Zhou residence.
Yan Yunhe knew that if Yu Qin had arrived here in his capacity as commander in chief, Zhou Chonghua wouldn’t have dared to act this way, even if he had a hundred times the courage.
But Yu Qin had come in another capacity—as Zhou Chonghua’s former student.
As the saying goes, a teacher for a day, a father for a lifetime.5 Even the commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, whom all officials revered and feared, could only stand in the snow and wait.
Song Wen, who had rushed over to hold an umbrella over Yan Yunhe, nearly choked when he heard his master’s provocative words.
But Yan Yunhe was not done. Leaning close to Yu Qin’s ear, he whispered softly, “Why isn't Lord Yu staying at the palace on such a lovely night? Could it be that the empress dowager no longer has eyes for you?”
After speaking, Yan Yunhe gazed at the man’s icy profile, as if this provocation wasn’t enough. Unafraid of courting death, he added, “If I were the empress dowager and truly favored you so much, I would keep you in a cage, to admire you and play with you all day. Why let you out to bring disaster upon the court?”
His voice was extremely low, so soft that only the three present could hear.
Yu Qin slowly lifted his lashes, finally meeting Yan Yunhe’s gaze directly.
The air hung heavy, thick with murderous intent.
Song Wen’s hair stood on end as he remembered that aside from serving as the commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, Yu Qin also presided over punishments in the Imperial Prison. No mouth remained sealed before him, no confession remained uncoerced, and no accusation remained unmade.
Had his master gone mad? This was no different than poking a venomous snake!
Moreover, speaking about the empress dowager with such disrespect was no different than asking for punishment.
“What? You want to hit me?” Yan Yunhe asked, his voice innocent, but his lips curved into a provocative smirk, as if daring Yu Qin to strike.
Yet no matter how much Yan Yunhe taunted him, Yu Qin remained unmoved.
At that moment, the gate of the Zhou residence slowly creaked open. A servant stepped forward, acting as if Lord Yu weren’t standing nearby. He bowed his head, relayed his master’s instructions, and respectfully ushered Yan Yunhe inside.
After the three men entered, the gate slowly closed behind them.
Song Wen leaned close to Yan Yunhe’s ear and whispered, “Why did you have to provoke him again?”
Yan Yunhe's smile was enigmatic. “He wouldn’t dare do anything. If he did, believe me, tomorrow the memorials impeaching him would fill an entire table.”
“It’s easier to dodge a spear in the open than an arrow in the dark, sir,”6 Song Wen warned, his voice heavy with concern.
Yan Yunhe’s smile faded. “His Majesty praised Zhang Zheng just a few days ago. He will not be pleased about his imprisonment.”
Song Wen finally understood: If the emperor was unhappy, how could the Embroidered Uniform Guard possibly bask in glory?
Even if his master had inflicted physical harm on Yu Qin instead of merely insulting him, the empress dowager would have made a show of indignation, only to ultimately let him off with a slap on the wrist. Moreover, Yan Yunhe had the Marquis of Yong'an's manor backing him, earned military merit on the frontier, and was deeply favored by the emperor. Who would dare move against him?
Zhou Chonghua was nearing fifty, with graying hair at the temples and well-proportioned features. He possessed a refined, scholarly demeanor, still bearing faint traces of the elegance of his youth. He was currently in his study, waiting for Yan Yunhe.
Zhou Chonghua and Zhang Zheng were bosom friends and confidants. Before submitting his memorial, Zhang Zheng had visited him to entrust his elderly mother and wife to his care. At the time, Zhou Chonghua had suspected Zhang Zheng might be in trouble, but he hadn't expected it to happen so soon.
Yan Yunhe entered the study and saw Zhou Chonghua standing in the center of the room. He lifted the hem of his robe to bow in greeting. This was his first formal audience with his teacher since returning to the capital after the conflict on the frontier stabilized.
Zhou Chonghua stepped forward to stop him. He scrutinized his face before nodding with delight. “You’ve grown taller and stronger.”
Back at Donglin Academy, Yan Yunhe’s essays weren’t necessarily the best.
What he truly loved was mounted archery and swordsmanship, and he broke the rules at every turn. He would always lead a group of idle young nobles to cause mischief and stir up trouble around the academy, infuriating the teachers time and time again until they complained to Zhou Chonghua, the headmaster.
Zhou Chonghua always maintained that while Yan Yunhe’s behavior was unconventional, his nature wasn't inherently bad. With proper guidance, he would surely achieve great things in the future. Nine years later, Yan Yunhe had indeed proven this true. Yet Yu Qin, once his most promising disciple, had become a member of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, now a loathed figure among the upright scholars.
Clearly thinking of the disciple he had just turned away at the gate, Zhou Chonghua sighed softly, “If Duke Yu were still alive to see what his descendant has become…”
He covered his face and let out a sigh, overwhelmed by sorrow and regret.
Indeed, who could have imagined Yu Qin would turn out this way?
The frontier was often hit by harsh sandstorms, but at night, countless stars filled the sky, and silence reigned over the land.
Yan Yunhe stood on the watchtower overlooking the city, his back to the bright moon, gazing toward the capital. He too had once thought of Yu Qin.
Reality is far crueler than imagination.
Times have changed, and old friends are no longer recognizable.
Author’s note:
Yu Qin (Gong) x Yan Yunhe (Shou)
You can support the author by purchasing the original novel on Changpei! Go here to consult the purchase guide.
Comments
Post a Comment