Chapter 284

That night, many in the capital did not return home. The city gates were heavily guarded, and climbing the walls to escape was harder than reaching the heavens. Those who had been hiding near the gates had all relocated. They did not gather together, each still clinging to a sliver of hope. What they did not yet realize, however, was that to stay at an inn required proper documentation; even renting a room from a private broker was impossible without it, and sleeping on the streets meant being questioned at any moment. The few agents from Kou who still hoped to escape were all apprehended before dawn and delivered to the Ministry of Justice.

Kou’s elite squad of ten was entirely captured. When they met in the prison, they shouted in their native tongue at those who had betrayed them—those who had been caught first. At first, the officials fluent in the language found the outbursts amusing, but soon rolled their eyes; the level of cursing from the Kou prisoners was worse than that of any fishwife. They claimed they had been sent to assassinate, but even with more people, they doubted they could have done anything to Commander Li.

By dawn, Wang Xiujin was helped to the latrine, then returned to bed to recover from his wounds. From morning until noon, only his uncle came to visit, explaining that matters in the military camp were pressing and that none of the others would likely return. Wang Xiujin only nodded at the news, having suspected that the capture of the Kou agents would cause a considerable stir.

Ya Chang did not visit his father that day, but no one came to fetch him. Wang Xiujin read aloud from the manuscript his father had prepared for Ya Chang. Separately, Wang Xiujin could understand the text, but when pieced together, it confused him. After a while, his thoughts drifted—was it too early for his son, still so young, to be learning such things? Glancing at him and seeing how intently the boy listened, Wang Xiujin was tempted to ask if he truly understood.

The captured Kou agents were all minor figures, none of whom knew anything about what was to happen after the assassination attempt. The interrogators, all seasoned veterans, did not believe they had come only to harm Li Linshan; there had to be other objectives. Li Linshan, though a scion of the Li family, was not renowned enough for his deeds to attract foreign attention. Why would Kou want him dead? It made no sense. There must be another scheme at play. Claims of ignorance were not to be believed.

Not only did the interrogators distrust the prisoners’ stories—even the observers did not believe them. When news reached the palace, the emperor’s only command was, “Continue the investigation.”

While recuperating, Wang Xiujin spent the morning reading to his son and in the afternoon met with the teachers from the academy. After discussing the situation in Liangzhou, they touched upon next year’s imperial exams. None of the academy’s students were taking the exams, but lately some other academies had been causing trouble, making veiled and open insults. The teachers themselves were unbothered, but the students, young and impulsive, had on several occasions retorted sharply to provocations. The teachers worried this might cause trouble for Wang Xiujin.

“They can only wag their tongues. As long as our students don’t resort to violence, let them say what they like. Our laws don’t demand a life for being insulted to death,” Wang Xiujin said, thinking the provocative teachers must be out of their minds. “The city is under strict control these days. Tell the students to behave and avoid any unnecessary trouble. If something does happen, it won’t look good.”

The teacher agreed and chatted about trivial matters. He neither asked whether Wang Xiujin’s attacker had been caught, nor mentioned the captured Kou agents or the chaos in the capital last night. He shared only a few amusing anecdotes before taking his leave.

After seeing the teacher off, Ya Chang urged his little father to rest and forbade him from speaking further. Wang Xiujin, amused, complied and closed his eyes, though his mind remained restless, pondering the intentions of the Kou agents. Was this vengeance for the time he and Li Linshan had foiled Kou’s plans in Feng’an? But that had been years ago. Would they really wait so long to retaliate? If not, then what was their aim? Stirring up war between the two countries? If that was the case, assassinating the Fourth Prince would have been more direct. No—Kou, despite its ambitions on the mainland, was not reckless enough for such a gamble.

If they did not intend to provoke war, what benefit did killing Li Linshan bring? The phrase “using another’s hand to kill” flashed through Wang Xiujin’s mind, but something felt off and he dismissed the thought. If he could not figure it out, he would stop thinking for now. Since someone was investigating, the truth would eventually come to light. Even if the authorities gave up, he trusted the Li family would not rest while such a threat lingered.

Wang Xiujin drifted into a hazy sleep, unaware of when Li Linshan returned. Ya Chang, who had been keeping him company, had also fallen asleep, curled up on a blanket by the bed. When Li Linshan entered, he shook off the cold from his body before picking up his son. Thankfully, the floor was warmed by the underfloor heating, or else the child might have caught a chill. As his father approached, Ya Chang opened his eyes, saw who it was, and burrowed back into sleep.

Looking at his son and Wang Xiujin, Li Linshan’s expression softened, though he still seemed stern. He changed out of his travel-stained clothes and washed away his fatigue. By the time he returned, Wang Xiujin was awake and greeted him with a playful wink. Li Linshan went over and held his hand. “How are you feeling? Have you been taking your medicine on time?”

“With Ya Chang watching over me, how could I dare not take it? He even stands guard while I rest. Yesterday afternoon, he had the servants turn away all visitors,” Wang Xiujin said with a smile, clearly comforted by his attentive child. “He’s worked hard these past few days.”

Li Linshan squeezed his hand tightly, saying nothing.

“You look exhausted. You haven’t slept well these days, have you? Why not nap for a bit?” Wang Xiujin could see the fatigue etched on Li Linshan’s face. He imagined Li had been on the front lines of the search, with no time to rest, and since the matter involved the affairs of nations, any discovery could spark war. Those at the center of such storms bore heavy burdens.

Li Linshan did not move, only gazed quietly at Wang Xiujin. Ever since Wang had been wounded, Li’s heart had been ill at ease. Even with the perpetrators caught, his anxiety lingered. Now, he understood what Wang Xiujin must have felt each time Li went off on campaign.

Wang Xiujin read the worry in Li’s eyes and squeezed his hand in return. “I was careless this time. I thought nothing would happen at my own shopfront. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

“I’ll be careful too, whenever I go out,” Li Linshan replied, though even he did not fully believe his own words. Seeing Wang Xiujin’s skeptical look, he added, “I’ll always come back alive.” For a general who lived by the sword, such a promise was little more than empty words. On the battlefield, no one could guarantee safe return. Both men knew this.

For a long moment, neither spoke, only held each other’s gaze, their clasped hands conveying everything.

That evening, Li Linshan dined with Wang Xiujin while Ya Chang was sent to his grandfather’s courtyard for supper. Li Linshan said nothing of the events outside or the rumors circulating among those in the know. As the intended victim, he did not wish to add to Wang Xiujin’s burdens while he recuperated. Wang Xiujin, understanding, did not ask. Together, they avoided the subject in tacit agreement.

That night, Li Linshan finally slept soundly at home, but Wang Xiujin’s rest was troubled; he dreamed again and again of Li Linshan being attacked, even though he knew the assailants had been caught. The dreams left him deeply unsettled.

Before dawn, Li Linshan rose quietly. Wang Xiujin heard him and looked over. “Linshan?”

“You’re awake. Is it the pain?” Li Linshan’s voice was thick with concern, and he was at the bedside instantly.

“No, just nightmares all night. I rarely dream like that, and it left me feeling smothered. Please, be careful when you go out today. I have a bad feeling this isn’t over.”

Li Linshan gazed at him for a long time before nodding. “You needn’t worry about anything. Just focus on getting better.” He could not voice his own unease. The lead interrogators doubted that all the culprits had been caught; after such an attempt, Kou would surely have further plans. Why would they send men across a thousand miles just to kill someone whose death would stir little trouble, unless they were fools? There must still be Kou agents in the capital—perhaps even traitors within the court.

In response to these suspicions, Li Linshan had volunteered to act as bait to lure out the hidden conspirators. His grandfather and father regarded him with complex expressions, but he was untroubled. Better to draw out the threat than let it fester unseen. For the greater good, everyone knew this was the most effective course, yet personal feelings ran deep. Even the Fourth Prince opposed his decision, but Li Linshan remained resolute.

Wang Xiujin did not know the choice Li Linshan had made, but even if he did, he would not have stopped him. Had he not been wounded, he might have volunteered to join him—not out of patriotism or nobility, but because it was one thing to lure the enemy with preparation, and quite another to be taken unawares.

“I have to go to the camp today,” Li Linshan said, squeezing Wang Xiujin’s hand. “Is there anything you’d like to eat? I can bring something back.”

“The imperial physician forbade a great many things. He’ll come by today to change my dressing; I’ll ask him then how long these restrictions will last.”