Chapter 11
Before the blue-robed young master could react, the innkeeper swiftly accepted the silver and summoned a waiter to escort the two distinguished guests to their rooms.
The waiter promptly arrived and enthusiastically led Yan Yunhe up the stairs, asking, “Would you prefer to dine in your room or in the main hall, sir?”
Yan Yunhe glanced back at Yu Qin. “Are you coming?”
Yu Qin slowly approached him, his expression unreadable. “I’ll repay you once we return to the capital.”
Yan Yunhe couldn’t be bothered with discussing payment. Given the dilapidated state of the Yu residence and the handful of elderly servants remaining, Yu Qin’s financial situation was painfully obvious.
Where does all his money go? He’s practically broke.
Could it be that all he got from serving the empress dowager was that fur coat?
Yan Yunhe scrutinized Yu Qin’s winter attire. He could tell each garment was made from ordinary materials. It was practical, but lacking in aesthetic appeal.
“The waiter asked where we’d like to dine.” Yan Yunhe had initially planned to eat in the main hall, which would be brimming with rumors and gossip. Merchants from Yunzhou might be present as well, offering the perfect chance to gather information.
But recalling the attention Yu Qin had drawn earlier, Yan Yunhe told the waiter, “Bring dinner to our rooms.”
Yu Qin remained silent. Since Yan Yunhe never considered his opinion when making decisions, there was no point in speaking up.
Once he settled in his room, Yan Yunhe had dinner and bathed. After changing into fresh clothes, he headed to the inn's main hall, where several burly men were still drinking and chatting. His years in the army had turned Yan Yunhe into an expert at talking about everything under the sun, especially when wine was involved. There was almost nothing he couldn’t coax out of people under its effects.
The men took a liking to him. One of them, a fellow surnamed Chen, worked for an escort agency,1 making a living by transporting goods for merchants.
When Yan Yunhe mentioned his plan to travel to Yunzhou, Chen-dage2 clicked his tongue in surprise. “Why on earth would a young man like you go to a place like that?”
“My younger sister got married in Yunzhou,” Yan Yunhe replied, his voice tinged with worry. “Not long ago, our family suddenly lost all contact with her, and I’m concerned. I want to check on her.”
Chen-dage was a kind-hearted man. Hearing that Yan Yunhe was looking for his sister, he immediately replied, “Then you should hurry. Yunzhou is in complete chaos. Even us in the escorting business rarely take jobs over there anymore.”
Realizing his comment wasn’t reassuring at all, he quickly added, “But your sister should be fine. Rumor has it that even though those bandits are outlaws, they still have a sense of honor and don’t harm innocent people. Besides, I've heard the imperial court is about to send troops to wipe them out.”
Yan Yunhe poured him another cup of wine. “Is that so? Is the information reliable?”
Less than two days had passed since Emperor Chengjing assigned him this mission, yet even people from the jianghu already knew about it. How did the news leak and spread so quickly?
Chen-dage patted his chest. “Why wouldn’t it be? I’m in this line of work, after all. I’ve even heard they’re sending a big shot—a young general surnamed Yan. And…” He lowered his voice to a whisper, as if afraid of someone overhearing. “The God of Death.”
Yan Yunhe lowered his voice as well. “Who?”
The flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows around the hall as it gradually emptied. Their corner became the only source of light.
The atmosphere turned eerie. Everyone fell silent, listening to Chen-dage’s subdued tone.
“They say that the God of Death has a hideous face and hates being looked at. If anyone dares to even glance at him, the Embroidered Uniform Guard will storm into their residence that very night to gouge their eyes out. Young or old, anyone who falls into his hands meets the same fate.” Chen-dage raised his hand in a swift slashing gesture. “Legend has it that the God of Death spends most of his time in the Imperial Prison, feasting on meat as he watches people get tortured.”
Someone couldn’t help but exclaim, “That’s so cruel! How can he eat while watching all that?”
Chen-dage’s voice turned sinister. “Do you know what kind of meat he eats?”
Barely holding back his laughter, Yan Yunhe chimed in, “Human flesh, perhaps?”
Chen-dage stared at him in astonishment. “How did you know?! He really does eat human flesh. He likes it straight off the body—the fresher and warmer the better.”
Those around him gasped in unison. Just then, a voice called out from nearby: “Waiter, bring me a plate of meat.”
Startled by the sudden interruption, everyone turned to see Yu Qin seated at a square table beside them. His slightly damp hair hung loosely over his shoulders, and the candlelight cast a striking glow across his profile, making it hard to look at him directly.
Meeting their gazes, he rinsed his chopsticks in the tea, his tone calm as he added, “If there's human flesh, that’d be even better.”
Silence fell over the hall. Even the waiter gripped the white towel slung over his shoulder, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
Yan Yunhe’s laughter suddenly rang out. “Waiter, he’s just joking. Just bring him a bowl of beef noodles.”
Chen-dage chuckled dryly. “Xiao Xiongdi3 your friend can joke with such a straight face. I was actually scared for a second.”
The hall erupted in laughter, and the tension dissipated. The subject of Yunzhou was dropped entirely, and Chen-dage focused on getting Yan Yunhe to drink more. Yu Qin didn’t join them. Once he finished his noodles, he went upstairs.
After they had their fair share of wine, Yan Yunhe escorted Chen-dage back to his room before staggering back to his own. The inn’s layout was identical on each floor, with the rooms upstairs arranged in a single row. Yan Yunhe only remembered that his room was in the middle. He reached a door and gently pushed it open; he hadn’t locked it before leaving.
Squinting, Yan Yunhe walked to the table, poured himself a cup of tea and downed it in one gulp. Then, he stripped off his clothes as he shuffled toward the bed. His sash, outer robe, jade pendant, money pouch, and even his inner garments. He liked to sleep naked.
The room was lavishly decorated, with thick, warm curtains hanging around the bed. He pulled aside the heavy drapes and knelt on the bed, ready to crawl in.
Alcohol dulled his senses, but it had no effect on his innate sharp instincts.
He seized the intruder’s wrist, ready to strike back, but the intruder countered, and he missed his chance. He was slammed onto the bed and landed on something hard, sending a dull ache across his back. Yan Yunhe grabbed the object in one swift motion and pressed it against the intruder’s throat in an attempt to throw them off the bed.
At that moment, he froze.
He recognized the shape of a scabbard. It was made for a short, light blade, bathed in gold and inlaid with silver—a common weapon of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
Who else could it belong to if not the only Embroidered Uniform Guard in this inn? Or rather, the God of Death who fed on human flesh.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Yan Yunhe clearly saw that the person pinning him down was indeed Yu Qin.
Yan Yunhe forced a dry laugh, his lips twitching. “If I said I was drunk and stumbled into the wrong room, would you believe me?”
With a sharp shing, Yu Qin drew his blade, pressing the tip against Yan Yunhe’s throat.
Forced to tilt his chin upward by the sharp edge, the usually invincible Lord Yan had no choice but to talk his way out of this. “Lord Yu, don’t be rash. We still have to work together. If you kill me, how will you explain it to His Majesty?”
Yu Qin said nothing. His hair cascaded over his shoulders, brushing against Yan Yunhe’s cheeks. There was no heavy incense in the room, yet those strands carried an indescribably pleasant scent that made Yan Yunhe slightly ticklish and warm.
Yan Yunhe dared not move, feeling the blade slowly slide from his jawline to his cheek. It felt strangely familiar, almost playful—like something he would do.
He quickly realized he had used a similar trick to tease Yu Qin with his musket, and was just given a taste of his own medicine.
“Lord Yu…” Yan Yunhe’s voice cracked. He felt like a fish on a chopping block,4 and their position was far too awkward. Any movement would be immediately detected by the man above him.
Yu Qin tapped his cheek with the blade. “Lord Yan, do you think a single bowl of beef noodles wasn’t enough?”
Yan Yunhe swallowed hard, forcing out, “Lord Yu, that was just a joke.”
The blade shifted slightly, drawing a thin trickle of blood from Yan Yunhe’s earlobe.
“I can't help but wonder what human flesh tastes like,” Yu Qin murmured slowly. “Would Lord Yan be willing to let me... have some?”
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