Chapter 17
Those words stilled the room, shattering the illusion of peace that had settled over them for the past few days.
Their temperaments had never quite aligned at Donglin Academy, but at no point had they been this wary and suspicious of one another.
Yan Yunhe wouldn’t ask Yu Qin why he had chosen to serve the empress dowager, despite her shadow looming over the rebellion case years ago. The empress dowager thought she could deceive herself1 and everyone under heaven by saving Yu Qin’s life, but anyone with half a brain would know better than to believe she wasn’t involved.
Yu Qin was despised for this very reason. He knew perfectly well that this woman might be his enemy, yet he wagged his tail and begged for mercy2 before her to save his own skin, ultimately becoming a vicious hound at her feet.
This man who clung to life and feared death,3 who had no shred of integrity, was the grandson of Yu Chang’en. When the vassal princes besieged the capital, Yu Chang’en fought with his back to the river,4 determined to live or die with the nation. His heroic spirit, noble aspirations and unwavering loyalty were worthy of the heavens, making him an admirable figure throughout the empire.
Comparing the two made Yu Chang’en’s fate all the more tragic, and Yu Qin all the more detestable.
Yu Qin looked away and nodded. “Forgive me. I overstepped.”
With that, he calmly turned around, disappeared behind the screen, and went into the outer chamber.
Rather than satisfying him, hearing this apology only left Yan Yunhe feeling hollow and bitter, his recent good mood vanishing like smoke. Yu Qin’s nonchalant attitude made it seem as though he was the one overreacting. The man had merely asked a casual question, yet he took it to heart. He was presumptuous once again.5
He climbed out of the tub and roughly threw on his robes without even drying himself off.
The charcoal burning at the inn was of the highest quality. It left no trace of smoke and kept the room warm, yet it also stoked the fire in Yan Yunhe's heart.
His damp hair clung to his back, soaking through his thin undergarments, but he ignored it as he strode out of the inner chamber.
Having just returned from outside, Yu Qin shed his fur coat and gently brushed off the remaining snow covering it. The fur would deteriorate if it stayed damp for too long, but material this inferior hardly warranted such care.
Yu Qin’s hands were red from the winter chill, yet instead of warming them by the fire, he continued brushing off the snow. It was as if he cherished this coat, even though it was nothing compared to the pure white fox pelt granted by the imperial palace.
Yan Yunhe strode forward and snatched the coat from him, ready to hurl it to the floor. He was in such a terrible mood that he felt an urge to provoke Yu Qin, as if he could only find relief by making him as miserable as he was.
But when faced with Yu Qin’s calm, unwavering gaze, Yan Yunhe’s raised arm froze.
For some reason, he realized this would end up just like that time in the temple—when he impulsively knocked down that flatbread onto the dirt, only to eat it himself. That’s how unlucky he was.
Yu Qin glanced at the open lapels on the other man’s robe. Earlier, in the water, he had only noticed the scars. Now, in his agitated state, Yan Yunhe’s sculpted chest rose and fell rapidly, making the faint red marks on his honey-colored skin even more distinct.
Yu Qin closed the window, leaving a narrow slit open. Then, he coolly said, “Hang that up.”
Yan Yunhe, halfway through his tantrum, chose to back down and keep his dignity.6 He tossed the fur coat onto a nearby chair as a final act of defiance. Yu Qin furrowed his brow, probably finding him childish.
Only then did Yan Yunhe realize he was cold. The temperature in the room had plummeted the moment Yu Qin arrived—the window he had left open was the culprit.
“Why on earth did you open the window?” he grumbled.
Yu Qin picked up the coat and hung it up. “While investigating a case, the Embroidered Uniform Guard found a family of three who burned charcoal with all the doors and windows shut in winter. None of them survived.”
Yan Yunhe had little knowledge about such matters. In the Marquis of Yong’an’s manor, servants took care of everything. On the frontier, there was no charcoal to burn in winter; all they had was strong liquor and sheer willpower.
It wasn’t until he joined the military camp that he understood the deadly consequences of corruption within the army. Supplies from the Ministry of Revenue were siphoned off before they even reached the camp. The winter clothes meant for the soldiers were neither thick nor warm—assuming they were issued coats at all. During the coldest nights of winter, countless soldiers froze to death.
Most soldiers would write home, asking their families to send winter clothes. Back then, Yan Yunhe had just joined the lower ranks under a false identity. When he discovered this situation, he tried to report it to his superiors, only to be severely rebuked by his company commander. It may not seem so, but the company commander meant well. Every year, some greenhorn tried to expose this corruption, but hierarchy in the military was stricter than anywhere else—obedience to orders was paramount. Even if officers were truly embezzling funds, what right did a lowly soldier have to condemn them?
Yan Yunhe had no choice but to lie low. As he gradually distinguished himself in battle, he was noticed by General Qi, which provided an opportunity to finally report the issue.
General Qi was an excellent commander. He understood that if soldiers’ basic needs for food and clothing weren’t met, it would not only demoralize them but also severely diminish their combat effectiveness.
Thus, with General Qi’s decisive leadership and Yan Yunhe’s assistance, the conditions in the camp improved significantly from the year Yan Yunhe arrived at the border until he returned to the capital.
This contribution had likely cemented Emperor Chengjing's decision to assign him to the Divine Machine Battalion. Despite being stationed in the heart of the capital, even the Divine Machine Battalion suffered from inconsistent equipment quality. The young emperor was ambitious; as soon as he seized control of one of the Three Great Battalions, he tasked Yan Yunhe with reorganizing it, aiming to rapidly enhance the battalion’s capabilities.
But Yan Yunhe let him down. He gave the Embroidered Uniform Guard an opening to strike against him, forcing the reorganization to be put on hold.
After hanging up his coat, Yu Qin remarked, “On my way back to the inn, I saw a black bird circling overhead. Crows rarely travel alone, so I found it rather curious.”
Yan Yunhe’s heart skipped a beat. Yu Qin’s perception was frightening.
He must have opened the window to check for traces of the crow. Since he chose to bring it up now, it went without saying that he had already confirmed its presence.
Yu Qin was truly a formidable opponent, whose intelligence bordered on the supernatural.7 Now, the messages Yan Yunhe and his informant exchanged through the crows were at risk of being intercepted.
Thinking this, Yan Yunhe glanced at Yu Qin’s pale profile, his teeth itching again. “Ah, so you were worried we’d go to the grave together.8 And here I thought you opened the window to freeze me to death.”
As soon as he spoke, Yan Yunhe realized how petty he sounded.
Yu Qin sat at the table, pouring himself a cup of hot tea. “Perhaps Lord Yan wouldn’t freeze to death if he bothered to dress properly.”
Yan Yunhe leaned sideways, perching half his rear on the chair and propping himself against the edge of the table. His already loose lapels gaped even wider. “It seems Lord Yu is quite displeased with my state of undress. You won’t even look at me.”
He chuckled mockingly. “You remind me of a sheltered young lady—sharp-tongued, but too afraid to look at others.”
Yu Qin took a sip of tea. “Why would I be afraid to look at you?”
Yan Yunhe picked up a teacup, idly turning it in his hand. His fingertips traced the rim, gliding over the porcelain’s smooth, cold surface like a beauty’s pale, icy skin. “Then look at me, Lady Yu.”
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