Chapter 6
That glaring smear of red was the lip rouge women used.
Reality was far more shocking than imagination. Even though Yan Yunhe had mentally prepared himself, seeing it with his own eyes disturbed him deeply. Yu Qin found him nothing but disrespectful. He swung his saber, nearly slicing off a piece of Yan Yunhe’s sleeve.
Heedless of his words, Yan Yunhe blurted out, “Lord Yu is truly blessed.”
Following his gaze, Yu Qin lowered his head slightly and saw the mark on his inner garment. Yan Yunhe glanced at the bowl of half-eaten noodles, now overturned on the floor. “Why didn't the empress dowager ask you to stay for a meal?”
Yu Qin raised a hand to adjust his collar, his pale, bloodless fingertips pressing the against the stain of rouge, making it even more conspicuous. “If you have nothing better to do, you might as well return to camp and continue drinking.” He sheathed his saber with a fluid motion, his voice cold.
At this point, they didn't even bother with the pretense of addressing each other with formal titles.
Forcing a smile, Yan Yunhe said, “What happened today will be repaid in due time.”
Likewise, Yu Qin’s smile didn't reach his eyes. “I’ll look forward to it.”
...
The following day, Yan Yunhe went straight to the Court of Judicial Review. Emperor Chengjing wouldn’t have ordered him to investigate a case concerning the vice minister of works, nor mobilized the Imperial Surveillance Bureau, without good reason. This case was certainly not simple.
Although the clerk who had transcribed the case files had already died, the files remained at the Court of Judicial Review. While he looked through the files, Yan Yunhe ordered the Imperial Surveillance Bureau to investigate all the places Zhao Xiang had visited before his disappearance, as well as every detail of his residence. He wanted a clear account of even the number of chamber pots.
Yan Yunhe was busy, but Yu Qin was not idle either. The censor who had impeached Yan Yunhe for drinking on duty was reported for abusing his authority and dismissed from his post, permanently banned from office. Meanwhile, the spy who had leaked the information to the Embroidered Uniform Guard had both his legs broken and was carried out of the Divine Machine Battalion's camp.
Those familiar with the inside story could tell this was Yan Yunhe striking back at the Embroidered Uniform Guard. However, some found his retaliation rather tame. Being denounced before the emperor had clearly dealt him a severe blow, yet this was his response? Had Yan Yunhe spent his time on the frontier not fighting battles and slaughtering enemies, but chanting sutras and praying to Buddha?
Yan Yunhe hadn’t become a monk, but if he had to keep poring over these case files at the Court of Judicial Review, he might just be driven to take the tonsure.
Song Wen adjusted the flame of the lamp, poured him tea, and sorted the files for him, all while grumbling, “It would be so much better if these files were delivered to the manor. How long will it take to review them one by one? The other commander must be grinning from ear to ear now that he no longer has to contend for power with master.”
The other commander of the Divine Machine Battalion was named Jiang Fang, and he belonged to a collateral branch of the empress dowager's clan. Cautious in his conduct, Jiang Fang was neither outstanding nor incompetent, and naturally no match for Yan Yunhe, who had earned his position through meritorious service.
Despite being an outsider who was dropped into his role, Yan Yunhe was able to quickly win over the soldiers due to his friendships with the veteran generals from the frontier, forged through trials of life and death. Moreover, he was the junior general personally mentored by Qi Shaolian, the renowned commander who regarded him as his successor. Never mind the Divine Machine Battalion; throughout the Three Great Battalions in the capital, anyone who had been to battle respected him.
Yan Yunhe switched to another file without looking up. “His Majesty ordering me to investigate this case might actually be a good thing.”
Song Wen didn’t understand. “You went through all that trouble to finally establish your prestige in the battalion, yet His Majesty removed you. How is that a good thing?”
“The censor charged me with drinking in the military camp. But who did I drink with?” Yan Yunhe grew sick and tired of all this reading and closed his eyes to rest, taking the opportunity to chat with Song Wen.
“General Li, General Zhou, and General Chen,” Song Wen replied, listing the names of prominent military officers from the Divine Machine Battalion.
Yan Yunhe opened his eyes. “And who informed the censor?”
Song Wen understood now, his eyes lighting up. “The Embroidered Uniform Guard!”
Just like the Embroidered Uniform Guard, Jiang Fang was one of the empress dowager's people. It made no difference whether this had been his doing or not.
Though military officers were rough men, they valued loyalty above all else and utterly despised those who snitched and stabbed others in the back. Most soldiers on campaign drank. Without strong liquor to warm their throats, how could they endure the freezing cold during those snowy nights and the lingering pain of old wounds?
This move by the Embroidered Uniform Guard seemed effective on the surface, but it actually did more harm than good. While Yan Yunhe alone had been punished, wouldn’t the several other officers harbor resentment?
Moreover, Yan Yunhe saw to it that word spread throughout the Divine Machine Battalion that he had been more than willing to face His Majesty’s anger to shoulder the blame for the incident. Though he couldn’t visit the camp for now, invitations from the officers kept pouring in, and their camaraderie with him had deepened considerably.
He had to hand it to Yu Qin. How had he managed to make it seem like he was teaching him a lesson, when in fact he was doing him a tremendous favor?
Internal unity often reaches its peak when facing external threats. Without Yan Yunhe lifting a finger, others would take care of the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s spies within the military camp for him.
Song Wen beamed with delight. “I expected nothing less from you, my lord!”
With that, he opened the food box sent from the manor and laid out the delicate pastries one by one. “Have some pastries before you resume your work. Her Ladyship had these made specially for you.”
Among them were peach blossom pastries, Yan Yunhe’s favorites. As he gazed at the petal-shaped treats, memories of the past inevitably resurfaced.
In the Donglin Academy of days past, after Yan Yunhe failed to negotiate a truce with Yu Qin, he grew defiant. Anyone who came looking for trouble with him was cornered by his men. For those scholars, who only knew how to bury themselves in books, it was their first time encountering such an incarnation of chaos.1 After numerous threats, their petty tricks dwindled significantly.
On that rare day of good weather, Donglin Academy held a mounted archery class.
Yan Yunhe finally had a chance to unleash his true nature. Riding a black steed with snow-white hooves,2 he nocked the arrows, drew his bow, and hit every target with perfect accuracy, having the time of his life. As the high-spirited, vigorous young man galloped his horse over obstacle after obstacle, the students in attendance erupted in cheers; his exceptional horsemanship and archery skills were truly pleasing to the eye.
Just as there were those who excelled at riding and archery, there were also those who did not. Beneath the shade of the trees, low tables and seats had been set up with books and tea, providing exhausted students a place to take a break from riding or simply study. Yan Yunhe focused his gaze in that direction; sure enough, there was Yu Qin, still in those scholar’s robes. He couldn’t help but suspect this person only had two sets of clothes. How come he’d never seen him wearing anything else?
Yan Yunhe narrowed his eyes as he watched Yu Qin, who was bent over a book. Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he drew his bow again. Just then, Zhao Yi, carrying fruit and pastries, was walking toward Yu Qin. With one glance, he noticed Yan Yunhe not far away with his bow drawn, and was seized with terror. The fruit scattered across the ground, the cry “Yu Qin!” got stuck in his throat—the arrow was already whistling through the air.
Amid the rustling wind, the arrow shattered the tranquility of spring. The peach tree shook, sending petals swirling through the sky. It was like a sudden downpour of blossoms. Fallen flowers blanketed the ground and covered Yu Qin from head to toe. There were petals on his book, his hair, the lapels of his robe, the cuffs of his sleeves—everywhere.
The culprit approached at a canter, halting before Yu Qin. He casually plucked out the arrow that was embedded in the peach tree and tilted his head, his eyes curving into crescents. He innocently said, “Sorry. My hand slipped.”
With that, he flicked the arrow to toss a cluster of peach blossoms into Yu Qin’s arms. “If I’ve offended you, will these flowers suffice as an apology?”
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