Chapter 266: An Old Acquaintance (1)

Chapter 266: An Old Acquaintance (1)

Le Wuya pondered for a long while.

After a moment, he pinched Zhi Jie's cheek, not too hard, just a light twist. "No one gets left behind."

In his last life, he had managed to protect everyone. Why couldn't he strive for perfection in this one?

Zhi Jie said softly, "Colorful clouds scatter easily, glass shatters readily; in the end, a little more than enough is better than perfection."

Though he was bold beyond measure—even daring to pull a former powerful minister into his arms—he had still prepared for the worst.

He and Fifth Brother were neither the eldest nor the legitimate heir, and their birth order placed them close together.

Until the very end, no one knew who would emerge victorious.

It was hard to say whether the two brothers, walking to the final step, would not face another Xuanwu Gate-style coup, ending in bloodshed and a fight to the death.

Zhi Jie had to plan both Le Wuya's advancement and his retreat.

"'A little more than enough'? Who wants that?" Le Wuya grabbed the man, slowly and deliberately straightening his collar, his tone brimming with unbridled arrogance and pride. "Have you forgotten? I'm a crow of the Helian family—anything good, I snatch back to my nest. I want it all."

Zhi Jie obediently let him fuss over him.

His hesitation melted away like mist.

The light was dim, with only a swaying wind lantern casting their overlapping shadows.

Zhi Jie's eyes wandered down.

Le Wuya had tied his trouser cuffs tight for climbing, but after scaling the wall, the bindings had loosened.

Zhi Jie nudged the loosened cuff with his toe, once, then again.

Le Wuya didn't notice his subtle move, his hand on Zhi Jie's collar, gazing at him in the bamboo shadows and moonlight. "Zhi Jie, when I came back this time, you were the first to recognize me, and the first to see me."

"You have to keep watching me."

"...Don't let me turn around one day and find you gone, got it?"

Zhi Jie's heart raced. It felt like a feather brushing his chest, a faint itch and ache that made him want to press a hand to his heart to calm the pounding.

He said softly, "I'll remember what you taught me."

After giving him that reassurance, Le Wuya continued, "The Emperor still distrusts this face of mine. He hasn't punished me yet only because he can't catch me slipping. Punishing you is his way of venting and testing, to drive a wedge between us."

Zhi Jie nodded. "I know."

"You know?" Le Wuya frowned. "If you knew, why didn't you write to me?"

Zhi Jie said, "I had to put on a show for Father Emperor."

Le Wuya narrowed his eyes slightly, scrutinizing him. "...And outside the show? Not a single word for me then?"

Zhi Jie reached into his robes, being truthful. "I did write, but I was still figuring out how to get it to you."

Le Wuya leaned in, curious. "Let me see—what did you say?"

But Zhi Jie only faked him out. As Le Wuya leaned in, he pulled him into his arms, letting him hear his heartbeat.

Le Wuya didn't struggle, lying still against his chest, hearing his heartbeat quicken and his breath grow short.

After a long moment, Zhi Jie asked carefully, "Teacher, are you satisfied with what I wrote?"

Le Wuya straightened up and said with a serious face, "I got the gist. Tsk, I don't know how your master taught you—writing nothing but shapeless, formless nonsense. Sent back. Rewrite it."

Zhi Jie said, "I accept the lesson. Next time I'll polish my writing and do better."

Le Wuya let out a long breath, using it to release the burning heat in his chest. "I'm heading off. There's the morning audience tomorrow; I need to get some sleep."

Zhi Jie stepped back and bowed with his hands clasped. "Teacher, rest well."

Le Wuya was about to leave when he heard a sharp whistle overhead.

A muffled grunt sounded from the other side of the wall.

Jiang He, silent, grabbed two thick bamboo stalks, stepped on the nodes, and in three strides was over the wall and gone into the night.

Le Wuya and Zhi Jie looked at each other.

Le Wuya waved a hand in denial first. "He wasn't following me."

If he'd been followed by spies the whole way without noticing, he might as well just die.

Of course, the man wouldn't have been following Little Phoenix either.

Little Phoenix was a soldier—if he'd been tailed without knowing it, he might as well dig his own grave.

Le Wuya looked up at the wall, realization dawning.

The wall here was low, with no broken tiles or caltrops on top—perfect for spying.

So someone had been spying on the Sixth Prince's residence and got caught by Jiang He, who happened to be lurking nearby.

Zhi Jie frowned. "With things so unstable outside, are you still leaving tonight, Teacher?"

Le Wuya glanced at the wall. "Wait for Jiang He."

Zhi Jie tugged his sleeve. "The dew is heavy this late, Teacher. You'll catch a chill."

Le Wuya stood his ground. "No matter. With things uncertain, I'd better not move around. Once this place becomes a prince's residence, I'll come tour your home then."

Then he looked up at the wall, as if muttering to himself, "Jiang He didn't hurt anyone just now, did he?"

Zhi Jie thought for a moment. "Doesn't seem like it."

That muffled grunt didn't sound like a solid hit.

Jiang He might be slow, but his skills were anything but ordinary.

Anyone who could dodge his surprise attack was no ordinary talent.

"Ah." Le Wuya nodded. "I think I know who it is. ...Good thing Jiang He went after him."

"Why?"

Le Wuya said, "Just an old acquaintance."

...

Under the clear moonlight, Jiang He finally caught up with the man ahead.

Or perhaps, the man had never intended to truly flee.

The man in black turned around.

In the moonlight, Qiu Sinian's face appeared even paler.

His face cold and set, he tossed the iron pellet he'd been gripping to the ground.

Qiu Sinian was here on imperial orders to spy on the estates of the Fifth and Sixth Princes.

Prince Hui's mansion was, of course, brimming with joy, preparing a lavish banquet under the pretext of celebrating the birthday of the Secondary Consort's father, Lord Pu—who also happened to be the Fifth Prince's father-in-law.

Late into the night, Prince Hui's mansion remained a riot of noise and light, lanterns blazing.

Servants, faces bright with cheer, hung red lanterns emblazoned with the character for "longevity," one by one, using long lantern hooks.

The Sixth Prince's residence, by contrast, was far more subdued.

But that was only in comparison.

Compared to any other day, the Sixth Prince's residence hadn't changed a bit—still neat and solemn inside and out, servants going about their duties, some sweeping, some standing guard, none of them slacking off despite their master's change in post, projecting an air of unruffled calm, unmoved by fortune or disgrace.

Qiu Sinian wanted a closer look, so he circled around to the weak point he'd scouted out earlier. But the moment he poked his head out, a pellet came flying straight at him.

In the nick of time, he jerked his head aside and snatched it out of the air, his palm stinging from the impact.

Realizing he was in trouble, he turned and bolted.

By all logic, after driving off this uninvited guest, the man should have gone back to guard the Sixth Prince and had the whole household light up and brace for assassins.

But his pursuer was stubborn to a fault, dead set on running him down.

After being chased for a li, Qiu Sinian had already figured out who this pigheaded pursuer was.

He found an empty house, barged in, pulled a small booklet and an ink brush from his robes, and only then stopped to look back—

What he saw made Qiu Sinian's blood run cold:

The moment Jiang He saw Qiu Sinian reach into his robes, he'd already drawn his firearm halfway out!

But when he saw it was just paper and brush, Jiang He lowered the muzzle a fraction and asked, "Who are you?"

Qiu Sinian obviously couldn't reveal who he was, so he quickly scribbled two characters: "Misunderstanding."

Then he flashed the prison token.

Any guard with half a brain would've recognized the token as a sign of imperial orders, muttered "misunderstanding," and backed off.

Unfortunately, Jiang He didn't have half a brain.

What's more, he had no love for the name "prison."

He remembered that his young general had died within those very walls.

Besides, Jiang He had no idea if this guy had come with Lord Wenren, or if he'd overheard his private talk with the Sixth Prince.

His young general had taught him: if someone overheard secrets, killing them was acceptable to be absolutely safe.

"What misunderstanding?" Jiang He said, face blank, eyes darting around as he scouted for a good place to bury the body. "You broke into the prince's estate at night with bad intentions—what misunderstanding could there possibly be?"

His intentions were so obvious that Qiu Sinian could read his mind at a glance: "..."

He had no choice but to write it out more plainly: "We each serve our own masters, each doing our duty."

Jiang He didn't like him, but he had to agree—which only made him more determined to bury him right here: "Right. Each doing their duty, so don't blame me."

With that, he stowed his firearm.

That thing was too loud.

He drew the twin swords from his belt.

Qiu Sinian, who'd come unarmed and light for easy movement: "..."

Even so, with Qiu Sinian's skills, going toe-to-toe with Jiang He wouldn't leave him helpless.

He just didn't want to fight Jiang He.

He wrote: "I won't fight you."

Jiang He: "No. I'm going to fight you."

Qiu Sinian had to spell it out: "Stop. Someone asked me to protect you."

Jiang He: "Who?"

Qiu Sinian didn't want to write the name, unsure if Jiang He's loyalty had wavered, so he wrote vaguely: "An old friend."

Jiang He: "Who?"

Hearing that, feelings that had lain dormant in Qiu Sinian's heart for years suddenly surged up.

Before his lord had sent him to the prison, he'd entrusted Qiu Sinian with looking after two people.

Qin Xingyue was far off at the frontier, out of reach, but he'd still done his best, asking Pei Mingqi to get him a job as a military clerk in Nanting.

The moment Jiang He arrived in the capital, Qiu Sinian pulled strings to keep him there, got him into the Imperial Guard, kept an eye on him, and slipped him extra bonuses and gifts so the man with no family would never be short on cash.

Whenever a good assignment came up, Qiu Sinian always schemed to get him sent on it.

For instance, last time, when Jiang He accompanied the Sixth and Seventh Princes on their imperial tour, that was Qiu Sinian's doing behind the scenes.

So even though Jiang He didn't recognize him, Qiu Sinian still felt a fair bit of affection for him.

Moved by these feelings, he scribbled quickly: "...The one who protects me. The one who cherishes you. The kindest person in the world. My benefactor."

Jiang He tilted his head, curious: "...Who?"

Qiu Sinian: "..."

His hand was cramping from all that writing—how could this guy still not get it?

Why the hell did his lord dote on such a blockhead?