Chapter 7
Yu Qin’s gaze drifted from the brazen smile on Yan Yunhe’s face, landing on the flowers held to his bosom. He had yet to speak when Zhao Yi rushed over, his face trembling with fury. Zhao Yi pointed at Yan Yunhe and roared, “Yan Yunhe! You bastard!” But he was a scholar, after all; he couldn’t come up with anything harsher to say.
While gifting Yu Qin an armful of peach blossoms appeared a charming gesture, it was in fact quite a sinister one. Had the shot lacked precision, the man would have lost his life beneath the tree. No matter how skilled he was, Yan Yunhe had crossed the line.
Hearing Zhao Yi’s frantic, angry breaths, Yu Qin slowly closed the book in his hands. What a straightforward show of dominance1—he didn’t even bother to hide his intent.
Zhao Yi was still seething with rage, “How dare you harm a fellow student like this? I’m reporting you to Headmaster Zhou!”
Yan Yunhe didn’t even dismount. He fiddled with the arrow in his hand, smiling lazily. “I already said my hand slipped. Besides, Yu Qin hasn’t said a word yet. Why are you so worked up?” He might as well have called him a busybody.
Zhao Yi was red in the face, his trembling finger pointing at Yan Yunhe. He struggled to find words to respond.
Finally, Yu Qin rose to his feet and patted Zhao Yi’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’m not hurt. You needn’t worry.”
Zhao Yi shot Yan Yunhe a hateful glare, deeming this bastard unworthy of another word. Yu Qin brushed himself clean of the petals, picked up his book, and turned to leave with Zhao Yi. That bunch of peach blossoms Yan Yunhe had given him fell to the dirt to be mercilessly stepped on, ground into the mud.2
Yan Yunhe bit off half a peach blossom pastry. He was a master of mounted archery. Never mind shooting on horseback—he could have shot with his eyes closed and that arrow still wouldn’t have hit Yu Qin.
As for whether Yu Qin had been aware of this, Yan Yunhe had no wish to guess either.
In any case, Yu Qin was someone who held grudges. If he recorded them all in a ledger, Yan Yunhe’s name would probably take up two-thirds of it.
Seeing him lost in thought with the pastry still in his mouth, Song Wen asked, “My lord, are you tired? How about we return to the manor and call it a night?”
Yan Yunhe washed down the pastry with a gulp of tea and slammed the case file shut. “Let’s go. Your master will take you out to look for fun.”
Song Wen looked at him with a puzzled expression.
Half a shichen3 later, Song Wen gazed at the most bustling place in the capital, his jaw slowly falling open. How could he have expected that when Yan Yunhe said they would look for fun, he actually meant going to an entertainment house?
Watching Lord Yan hand out reward silver with practiced ease, Song Wen thought, He hasn’t even touched any of the ladies yet, and he’s already acting like the Wealth-Scattering Boy.4
Yan Yunhe kept scattering wealth until the madam emerged to welcome him. She personally escorted him to a room usually reserved for honored guests and summoned a line of girls for him to choose from. Those women, a dazzling array of color and bewitching beauty, left Song Wen so overwhelmed he didn’t dare look their way. His master, however, was perfectly fine, casually picking four of them to keep him company. Three clustered around Yan Yunhe: one peeled grapes, one poured wine, and another massaged his back and shoulders.
Song Wen just watched, dumbfounded. The remaining one, unable to squeeze in among the others, attended to him instead, pouring wine and presenting it to him with her own hands, coaxing him to drink.
Although Song Wen had started as a servant in the Marquis of Yong’an’s manor, he later became Yan Yunhe’s personal attendant. No matter how wild Yan Yunhe had been in his youth, the most he would do was drink with others at taverns. He’d never set foot in such places of sensual indulgence.
Song Wen hadn’t followed Yan Yunhe to the frontier, so naturally he knew nothing of his life over there. He only knew that ever since the young master returned, his temperament was not quite the same as it used to be.
Could this be a bad habit he picked up on the frontier? Should I tell Her Ladyship?
With his arms around the girls, Yan Yunhe engaged in idle chat. Once he had talked enough, he rose, placed a pouch full of silver on the table, and grabbed Song Wen by the collar. “Let’s go.”
“Huh?” Yan Yunhe suddenly saying they were leaving startled Song Wen, who was still torn over whether to betray his master and report him to Madam Yan.
“Can’t bear to leave?” Yan Yunhe teased. “Have fun, then.”
Song Wen scrambled to his feet, wiping a lipstick mark from his cheek with his sleeve. “No! Master, don’t leave me!”
Yan Yunhe strode out of Wanhua5 Pavilion, mounted his horse, and rode to a residence. Sure enough, it was deserted.
“Master, who are you looking for?” Song Wen asked curiously.
“Zhao Xiang’s mistress,” Yan Yunhe replied, walking freely through the empty residence. The occupants had fled in haste, leaving the rooms in disarray, their belongings scattered everywhere.
“Zhao Xiang’s mistress?”
“She’s a girl from Wanhua Pavilion,” Yan Yunhe explained.
Song Wen was shocked. “Zhao Xiang, the vice minister of works, actually took a courtesan as his concubine?!”
Yan Yunhe flicked him on the forehead. “He didn’t take her as a concubine. He was just keeping her here as his mistress.”
“How did master know Zhao Xiang’s mistress was from Wanhua Pavilion?” Song Wen asked, still curious.
Great Jin strictly forbade officials from patronizing courtesans. As vice minister of works, Zhao Xiang would have to be extremely careful if he wanted to engage in such activities. Hadn’t his master had been reviewing case files all night? No one from the Imperial Surveillance Bureau had come either. Where on earth did he get this information?
Yan Yunhe surveyed the area. “Before he disappeared, Zhao Xiang borrowed a large sum of silver from the money shop6 and frequented Baishi Pavilion. Baishi Pavilion is just across the street from Wanhua Pavilion. No matter how delicious the food is, there’s no need to eat there every day, alone each time. According to his wife’s testimony, the last time they saw each other, they quarreled over trivial household matters. These so-called trivial matters were most likely this mistress.” Yan Yunhe ran his hand along the windowsill, then held it up for close inspection.
Song Wen listened in confusion. “That’s it? You deduced he kept a mistress at Wanhua Pavilion?”
Yan Yunhe shook his head. “Not just that. Over the past few months, Zhao Xiang’s servant visited Zhaohua Pavilion at least ten times. The courtesans at Wanhua Pavilion love Zhaohua Pavilion’s rouge the most, so I came here to ask around.”
Song Wen finally understood, but he still didn’t get why Yan Yunhe knew so much about the rouge preferences of Wanhua Pavilion’s courtesans.
Could it be that Yan Yunhe had a favorite courtesan here too?!
Sensing Song Wen’s probing gaze, Yan Yunhe chuckled. “Get lost. What kind of person do you take your master for?”
“Then how do you know?” Song Wen rubbed his nose sheepishly.
How would Yan Yunhe dare to admit to the foolish things he’d done back in the day? He had merely bought rouge from Zhaohua Pavilion and given it to Yu Qin.
“We’re done here.” Yan Yunhe turned to leave the residence.
Song Wen hurried after him. “Aren’t we going to investigate?”
Yan Yunhe rubbed the dried blood on his fingertips. “Investigate what? The man’s already dead.”
A chill ran down Song Wen’s spine. Yan Yunhe clapped his hands. “If my prediction is correct, the Imperial Surveillance Bureau should find Zhao Xiang’s body tomorrow.”
“Once Zhao Xiang is found, can we return to the Divine Machine Battalion?!” Song Wen asked naively.
Yan Yunhe irritably replied, “If it were that simple, His Majesty wouldn’t have sent me to investigate. Before Zhao Xiang disappeared, the Directorate for Armaments7 under the Ministry of Works lost three hundred firearms. If we don’t track down those firearms before they fall into the black market, your master here will have to pack his bags and get his ass back to the frontier.”
Song Wen’s face fell. “The Embroidered Uniform Guard must be behind this too. What do they want firearms for?”
Yan Yunhe thought to himself, I’m afraid it’s more than just the missing firearms. If that were the case, there’d be no need for this many people to die.
A vice minister of works and a clerk from the Court of Judicial Review, both of whom held official posts, had been killed without the slightest scruple. Emperor Chengjing must have sensed deeper, murkier waters at play, which was why he had chosen him for this task.
Yan Yunhe had worked late into the night and still had to attend morning court the next day. He simply removed his outer robe, didn’t bother changing his inner garment, and threw on his official robes before heading to the palace to await the court session.
Outside the hall, darkness was absolute, with civil and military officials standing in separate rows.
Yan Yunhe had dark circles under his eyes. He stifled a yawn, keeping his expression unchanged. You Lian, who had been on friendly terms with him since their youth, was doing quite well, now serving as General of the Yulin Guard.8 Though the Yulin Guard currently held little prestige among the imperial guards, largely composed of sons of noble families holding concurrent posts, it had once been the foremost guard within the palace.
You Liang looked at him teasingly, “I thought you’d be moping at home after His Majesty punished you. But Yan-xiong’s vigor remains undiminished!”
Yan Yunhe pressed his aching brow. “What are you talking about?”
You Liang sniffed the air. “You’ve got the fragrance of women all over you. Couldn’t you at least bathe before attending court?”
Yan Yunhe fell silent; he’d forgotten that You Liang had a nose like a bloodhound.
For some reason, Yan Yunhe instinctively looked over at Yu Qin, who was standing ahead to the left. The python beast on the man’s robe seemed to come to life, glaring at Yan Yunhe so fiercely that he couldn’t help but frown. His voice even rose a bit as he said, “It’s not what you think.”
You Liang was not done teasing him. “Yes, yes, yes. Lord Yan is the epitome of virtue and chastity, a gentleman misjudged by our petty standards.”9
With that, You Liang followed Yan Yunhe’s gaze and looked forward. “Lord Yan, if there’s actually someone you fancy, you’d better marry her quickly and stop longing for those you can’t marry. Let it go—as soon as possible.”
Yan Yunhe was already tired as it is. His frown deepened at You Liang’s words.
Who were those he couldn’t marry?
Or rather, who did he even want to marry? How come he didn’t know?
Author’s note: Lord Yan: It wasn’t me, I didn’t do it. Don’t talk nonsense.
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