Chapter 2: Chapter 2

## Chapter Two

In the autumn of the fourth year of Fangli, frontier dispatches brought news of victory one after another. General Yuhong, who had been on campaign at the border for four years, sent a letter to the imperial presence, along with a memorial.

Fang Zhihe looked at the memorial presented by Qi Guan and smiled for no reason, then slipped the letter under the memorial and into his sleeve.

No one in the hall spoke or dared to look up. They kept their heads down, muttering to themselves—this General Yuhong had been on campaign for years, sending only two letters to the capital, each one made the emperor furious. Yet every time he received a letter, the joy on his face was unmistakable.

Perhaps he never intended to hide it.

Qi Guan lowered his gaze to his own shoes and heard the emperor clear his throat and say: "My lords... you must have already heard the news of General Lu's triumphant return from the frontier."

The officials in the hall all bowed in acknowledgment.

At the founding of the Great Fang Dynasty, the emperor had been willing to cede several border territories in exchange for peace. Only Lu Wuyou, then Chancellor of the Grand Secretariat, argued vehemently. In the dead of night, he stole the emperor's military tally and attempted to lead troops out of the city. Fortunately, the emperor reacted quickly, leading the Imperial Guard himself to capture Lu Wuyou. Yet later, for reasons unknown, he was appointed First-Rank General Yuhong and ordered to drive out the Tatars from the frontier.

Now, returning home in glory, it was not only the emperor who rejoiced, but the entire court as well.

Naturally, they were happy.

Since the year before last, when a letter from General Lu reached the capital and made the emperor so angry he fell deathly ill, everyone in the realm knew—there was no one who did not know—that General Lu was the emperor's beloved.

With the beloved returning, who would not be pleased?

All men in this world are but common mortals; even the Son of Heaven cannot escape this truth.

As winter approached, the night wind carried a biting chill. Fang Zhihe, wearing a white cotton-padded jacket, sat before his desk. The brazier beside him burned fiercely. Carefully, he took out the letter from daytime and gazed at the elegant characters on the red-bordered paper. Besides joy, there was an indescribable, dull ache in his heart.

—To Fang Zhihe.

Four characters.

Fang Zhihe gently unfolded the letter, revealing pale yellow paper. The content was brief, folded once, and only faint traces of ink were visible.

The candlelight flickered dimly, and the autumn wind swept in through the window.

Fang Zhihe furrowed his brows slightly, his temper rising. He crumpled the letter, blew out the candle, shed his jacket, and climbed into bed.

Moonlight seeped through the window, falling upon the desk, upon the crumpled ball of paper.

Fang Zhihe tossed and turned. After a while, he got up, carefully flattened the crumpled paper. The moonlight gently bathed several lines of sharp running script—

*Fang Zhihe, you coward and petty man. Five years ago, I said these barbarian petty states were nothing to fear! Now, the results speak for themselves.*

*Another matter: Xiaoyuan is five now. When I return to the capital, I'll bring him home. From now on, you are not to have any contact with him. After all, you're not even half the man Changlin is. And Lu Yuan's upbringing is none of your business.*

*Written by Lu Wuyou*

Fang Zhihe stared at the words on the paper, finding them absurd but not knowing what to say. He stood there, hands hanging at his sides, for a long time. Then he pressed the letter flat, folded it, and tucked it back into the envelope.

That bastard Lu Yuntai—in five years, he'd only written him three letters. The first one was about selecting a tutor for Lu Yuan; the tutor for Lu Yuan should be chosen the same way as Fang Zhiyuan's tutor was, and he must not be allowed to teach him. The second one asked if there was any news of Fang Zhiyuan's wanderings; if not, don't bother sending letters to the frontier—they only annoyed him.

Fang Zhiyuan, every letter mentioned Fang Zhiyuan, Fang Zhanglin. Lu Yuntai, oh Lu Yuntai, when will you ever look at me, Fang Huaishu?