Seeing that he was thirsty, Gu Huaiyu picked up the half-finished cup of tea from his desk and handed it over. “Have some tea to calm yourself. Don’t mind that I’ve already used it.”
“…”
Wei Qingya’s stiff fingers took the tea set. The moment his lips touched the rim, his heart felt like it was going to explode. Sharing a cup… isn’t this essentially a kiss?
Gu Huaiyu watched with satisfaction as the man’s ears turned a shade of red that looked like it might bleed. This act of “cherishing talent” was clearly working wonders.
“My Lord, this official… this official shall take his leave.”
Wei Qingya held the tea cup carefully with both hands, retreating backward with great respect. His heart didn’t stop racing until he was well out of Gu Huaiyu’s sight.
Outside in the courtyard, a cold wind whipped at his face. The red lanterns under the eaves swayed in the breeze. As he turned the corner by the spirit screen, he ran straight into someone.
The newcomer had a cold, solemn expression. It was Shen Jun.
The two were not strangers. They had been in the same year of the imperial examinations. Shen Jun had placed as the Third Scholar, known for his meticulous policy essays and concise, rigorous prose. Wei Qingya, meanwhile, was famous for his talent in accumulating wealth. Though he ranked slightly lower, he was still among the top ten.
One had entered politics while the other had gone into business, and they had gone their separate ways ever since.
Wei Qingya understood the situation the moment he saw him. Clutching the tea cup carefully, he stepped forward and smiled. “So it was Brother Shen who recommended me to the Lord Chancellor. I am eternally grateful.”
Shen Jun’s gaze fell upon the tea cup. He recognized it as the one from Gu Huaiyu’s desk.
His eyes darkened slightly, but he remained composed. “No need to be polite. It is only right that I recommend talent to his Lordship.”
Wei Qingya followed his gaze down to the cup. The flush on his cheeks hadn’t faded, yet he spoke without any attempt to hide the fact. “This is the tea his Lordship was drinking. He bestowed it upon me to quench my thirst.”
Shen Jun: “…”
Wei Qingya didn’t notice Shen Jun’s sudden coldness. His expression was full of blissful delight. “The Lord Chancellor treats me exceptionally well. I truly must thank you, Brother Shen, for your recommendation.”
He spoke vaguely, not mentioning the details—details that belonged only to him, to be savored in private and shared with no one.
After a long silence, Shen Jun offered a thin, forced smile. “Congratulations, Master Wei, on receiving his Lordship’s favor.”
Though Wei Qingya had been out of the bureaucracy for a long time, polite pleasantries still came easily to him. “We are both subordinates of the Chancellor now. I hope Brother Shen will guide me. I still don’t quite understand his Lordship’s preferences…”
Before he could finish, Shen Jun abruptly brushed past him, his shoulder colliding heavily with Wei Qingya’s.
Caught off guard, Wei Qingya stumbled, and the tea cup in his hand wobbled. The tea nearly spilled. He frantically steadied himself, but when he looked up, he only saw Shen Jun’s back disappearing around the end of the corridor.
***
The New Year in the capital was exceptionally lively, with the streets crowded and filled with the sounds of celebration.
It had been ten years since Gu Huaiyu entered the court, and this was the most relaxed New Year he had ever spent. He had gathered a group of capable officials and ministers under him, so he no longer had to handle every detail personally. From the first day of the New Year until the twentieth, he didn’t even visit the Chancellery, content to stay in his estate and read in peace.
But at the same time, thousands of miles away in Ningzhou, the atmosphere was chilling.
Pei Jingyi and Yan Zheng had been investigating Ningzhou in secret for five days. Using Yan Zheng’s connections with his former subordinates at the border, they quickly uncovered the truth behind the mutiny.
The Army Overseer, relying on his imperial mandate, had not only embezzled thirty percent of the military wages but had also sold off the grain and fodder sent by the court. The Commander, Zhao Ru, was a civil official appointed by the court. He was timid and weak, allowing the eunuch to ride roughshod over everyone.
The soldiers had suffered, but they had learned to endure. Even if they ate moldy rice and wore tattered coats, they only sought to survive another day without causing trouble.
That was until Gu Huaiyu issued the Decree for Military Participation in Governance.
The night the imperial decree reached the camp, the entire Ningzhou garrison erupted. The tents were brightly lit, and the sound of clinking wine bowls echoed through the night.
The next day, several generals went to the provincial government’s assembly hall with high hopes, only to find that the old eunuch—believing the Chancellor was too far away to interfere—had no intention of implementing the decree.
The old eunuch leaned back in his armchair, looking at them as if they were livestock. “A bunch of illiterate mud-scrapers like you? You think you’re worthy of discussing governance?”
The generals were used to this treatment and tried to offer him wine with forced smiles. But the eunuch grew even more arrogant. After several rounds of drinks, he slammed the table and laughed maniacally. “Gu Huaiyu? He’s nothing but a coward who climbed to the top by letting his sister sell her meat!”
“Do you roughnecks really think he’s someone important? Hah! If he ever dared to come to Ningzhou, I’d make him kneel before me!”
The generals froze. Their faces turned beet red, their fists clenched until their knuckles cracked and veins popped.
