Chapter 16

Yan Nanjing glanced at the helplessness etched on his face. “My lord, you jest. You have countless ways at your disposal.”

Qi Yun raised an intrigued brow. “I am all ears, milady. Pray, do elaborate.”

“We are all here. Even if I were to depict you as cruel and harsh in my letters, my brother would hesitate to act rashly against you, unwilling to stir up trouble unless absolutely necessary. Besides, as long as we can meet in person, everything can be spoken openly.”

“Moreover...” She drew out the tone slightly, prompting Qi Yun’s curiosity. “Please, milady?”

“My brother would not want this matter made public.” A warm light shimmered in her eyes, which, combined with her strikingly delicate beauty, made her all the more captivating.

“Though you have never spoken of it, it is evident you come from an extraordinary lineage. My brother, though accomplished, is watched by many seeking to find fault and bring him down. Should this affair become known, there is no guarantee someone might accuse him of treason.”

“I am simple-minded, but if I can think of this, my brother surely does as well. And of course, you, my lord, even more so.”

She finished with a smile, meeting his gaze. “So, rest assured, my lord. You need not worry.”

Qi Yun listened and said, “Milady, you are wise.” The glint in his eyes deepened, richer than before. “I have long heard of the Great Chen Immortal and have witnessed the skills of Secretary Yang. Though I was defeated by him, defeat and victory are but common in warfare. I admire his talent. Now, having seen your wit, I only regret not having come sooner to pay my respects.”

Yan Nanjing raised an eyebrow, her smile inscrutable.

“May I ask your age, my lord?”

“Eighteen.”

She looked surprised, scrutinizing him intently, as if beholding something rare. Her gaze was so piercing it felt tangible, almost as if trying to see through the layers of his clothing.

Qi Yun could feel the weight of her gaze brushing over him. He cleared his throat gently, a subtle reminder, and adjusted his collar.

“You don’t look it,” she blinked, her eyes still unabashed. “You have a more mature bearing.”

A compliment veiled as an observation that he looked younger than his years. Qi Yun’s smile stiffened slightly. Just as he was about to reply, she spread her hands and murmured softly, “My father passed seven years ago. Back then, you were but eleven.”

She glanced at Qi Yun with a wink. “An eleven-year-old boy. Surely your parents wouldn’t have allowed you to come here at that age?”

Qi Yun’s smile faltered. He bowed his head and coughed twice to mask his embarrassment.

“Moreover, even if you had come, my father would not have received you.”

Qi Yun sensed the loneliness behind her words. “In the last two or three years before his passing, my father had already closed his doors to all, regardless of status.”

“I’ve heard that in his later years, Chen Immortal completely withdrew from the world.”

“Do you know the reason why?”

Qi Yun frowned, about to speak, just as their eyes met.

“No, I only know his retreat was sudden,” Yan Nanjing replied, gazing into his eyes. “You once said you admired him greatly, but it seems that was an exaggeration. Polite words are fine, but no need to take them too seriously.”

She then handed him a letter on yellow hemp paper. “Please deliver this to Lord Cui. It’s too cold and chaotic outside; I won’t send anyone myself.”

Qi Yun took the letter and returned to their temporary residence. Upon entering, he saw Cui Ti shoveling soil, removing earth stained with blood—if left uncovered, the warmth would attract snakes and insects.

Zheng Xuanfu stood nearby, arms crossed, indifferent to the biting cold. He seemed to enjoy watching Cui Ti’s grudging toil, occasionally criticizing from the sidelines. “You didn’t dig deep enough—there’s more underneath. If you don’t clear it, the stench will rise.”

Cui Ti gritted his teeth and dug deeper.

Inside the courtyard, the bloodstains remained, the mess still evident. Having heard Baishu’s account, Qi Yun believed that it was thanks to these two that the place was preserved last night.

Thus, Cui Ti’s posture was especially humble, enduring whatever Zheng Xuanfu said without complaint.

Qi Yun approached and handed Cui Ti Yan Nanjing’s letter. “Milady asked me to give this to you. Please have someone deliver it to Secretary Yang.”

Cui Ti’s expression was peculiar, recalling how he had lost to this man before a lady. He nodded carefully, pocketing the letter and returning to his work.

Zheng Xuanfu, overhearing, came over eagerly.

Qi Yun, seeing this, turned and walked back inside.

The room had been tidied by Baishu, and the blood wiped clean, but the stench lingered. Unwilling to stay indoors, Zheng Xuanfu went outside to scold Cui Ti.

“Where did you just come back from, that little girl’s place?”

Frowning at the lingering blood smell, he was displeased.

Qi Yun ignored him, but Zheng Xuanfu rambled on. “I don’t need you to tell me. You wouldn’t happen to fancy that girl, would you?”

Crossing his arms, he studied Qi Yun thoughtfully. “Jingyue, you’re not one to dote on women. At other families’ banquets, if the hostess’s maids get too close, you’re displeased. If you weren’t so distant from the local sons, rumors in Ye City would already have you labeled as a ‘broken sleeve’.”

“Don’t tell me you found someone you like here, when none in Ye City caught your eye?”

Qi Yun turned to him, eyes cold and focused.

Zheng Xuanfu squirmed under his gaze, nearly jumping. “What’s wrong? Am I wrong? You seem mild-mannered, but not overly kind.”

“If you were truly kind-hearted, Lord Qi would have disowned you and never made you deputy general.”

Lord Qi shared traits with Qi Yun—a gentle demeanor masking ruthless decisiveness. Compassion was a liability in these turbulent times; even if one attained power, it was swiftly taken away.

Qi Yun closed his eyes briefly, then fixed Zheng Xuanfu with a stare. “Are you living too leisurely?”

“If it’s so leisurely, go set the fire ablaze. We have no spare hands now; if you don’t, you might freeze to death.”

His words sounded genuinely angry.

Of course, no one would truly freeze to death. Zheng Xuanfu rose and went to the hearth outside, where only embers remained. With some dry twigs and a poke of the fire iron, the flame rekindled.

“Did I hit a nerve?”

He sat down, busy with the fire, speaking without pause.

“A real man doesn’t get angry over talk of love and women. That’s not your style.”

Compared to fame and fortune, romantic love was trivial—merely youthful banter.

“I know you’re usually humble and won’t tear into others unless absolutely necessary. But to be so lenient with a mere girl...”

Qi Yun cut him off impatiently. “Do you really want me to shove what you’re holding into your mouth?”

Zheng Xuanfu recalled the recent scolding and deflated, but soon said, “Good. If you don’t like her, I can leave.”

Qi Yun’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”

“You wanted to kill her not long ago, and now you’re softening so quickly?”

Zheng Xuanfu was unfazed. “At first, she was annoying. Given our situation, caution was necessary. Now that she’s willing to please, there’s no need to keep holding grudges.”

Qi Yun chuckled. “Pleasing? You’re imagining things.”

Zheng Xuanfu shrugged. “Whether she truly means it doesn’t matter; the act alone is enough.”

“I worried you had intentions. After all, coveting what belongs to another isn’t honorable. But if you don’t, that simplifies matters.”

“She’s beautiful—no one in Ye City compares.”

Such frankness left no room for doubt.

“Do you want to marry her?”

After a pause, Qi Yun asked.

Zheng Xuanfu laughed. “Even if I did, my parents would rather see me perish than let me do something so absurd.”

Noble families only married within their own class, never considering matches outside aristocracy or royalty.

“This place is a hundred miles from Ye City. Even if something happens, it won’t spread throughout the city.”

Qi Yun was a man; he understood the implication.

Zheng Xuanfu was merely enamored with beauty and would discard her upon returning. The distance between Jingzhou and Ye City was vast; a mere girl posed no real threat.

A cold smile tugged at Qi Yun’s lips. “If you give in to lust, be careful lest she devour you instead.”

Zheng Xuanfu was baffled and defiant.

“Don’t cause trouble,” Qi Yun’s face darkened, his words a warning. “You understand our situation. No more complications.”

“If you stir up trouble—” Qi Yun smiled, strode behind him, and slammed his palm onto his shoulder with such force the fire iron nearly slipped from his grasp.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Zheng Xuanfu turned, meeting Qi Yun’s smile, momentarily forgetting how to respond.

Qi Yun pressed on his shoulder again.

His expression calm, voice gentle. “Don’t be blinded by lust. Trouble will follow.”

Suddenly, the grip tightened fiercely. Zheng Xuanfu cried out in pain, feeling as though his bones might shatter. But just as quickly, the pressure vanished.

Qi Yun, as if concerned, rubbed the sore spot—only to cause greater pain. Zheng Xuanfu almost rolled his eyes, gasping, speechless.

When he recovered, he saw Qi Yun sitting by the hearth, rekindling the fire.

He had wanted to scold him but faltered under Qi Yun’s steady gaze. Instead, he quietly sat beside him.

Cui Ti went out to have the letter delivered to Yang Zhijian. Having done this often before, it was no trouble. He took his luggage and came back, saying he intended to stay. If no space was available, he could share with Baishu.

Yan Nanjing nodded without objection, not insisting he share with Baishu, so he went straight to the annex where Qi Yun and the others stayed. The annex was usually for storage, but he cared not, as long as he could watch over the two.

Zheng Xuanfu was displeased, showing no warmth toward Cui Ti daily.

Cui Ti paid no mind, remaining steadfast beside them despite Zheng Xuanfu’s sour mood.

After three or five days, Cui Ti went out briefly and returned beaming. Barely waiting for the door to open fully, he pushed it wide, ignoring Baishu who had fallen, and rushed inside.

He hurried to the main hall and announced, “Lord Yang has returned!”

As if to confirm his words, voices and the sounds of wagons approached outside.

The noise was loud enough to be heard from afar.

Yan Nanjing hurried out, crossing the courtyard, and soon saw a young man entering.

He was handsome, with bright eyes, wearing a long robe and a sword at his waist.

Upon seeing Yan Nanjing, his expression remained calm, but his eyes flickered with nervousness as he quickened his pace. “Zhishan!”