Prince Xian replied to Gu Huaiyu’s message, noting that the century-old plum blossoms by the lakeside pavilion on the outskirts were in their final bloom. If they missed the flowers now, they would have to wait another year. He invited Gu Huaiyu to join him in three days to admire the scenery.
Gu Huaiyu felt that Prince Xian possessed a rather refined temperament, so he took up his brush and wrote four words: “Awaiting the auspicious date.”
The three days passed in a flash.
Gu Huaiyu dressed in light-colored casual robes, draped a simple cloak over his shoulders, and left the estate.
Pei Jingyi watched him board the carriage and immediately followed. His tall, imposing frame tried to squeeze into the carriage without a word of greeting.
Before he could even duck past the curtain, Yun Niang blocked him with a stern face. She stared him down, her guard raised. “The Chancellor has ordered that outsiders are not permitted inside.”
The targeting of this “outsider” was all too obvious.
The tear on Pei Jingyi’s earlobe had already scabbed over. The dark red mark looked like a savage brand, lending him a dangerous, predatory air. He tapped his chest with a fingertip. “Outsider?”
Yun Niang remained expressionless and nodded solemnly. “Please maintain your dignity, General Pei. Do not make things difficult for me.”
Pei Jingyi suddenly turned and leaped onto a nearby black horse.
The horse’s hooves clattered as he rode close to the carriage window. He leaned down toward the curtain, lowering his voice. “I won’t go inside, but surely I can chat with the Chancellor?”
The curtain didn’t budge. From within came Gu Huaiyu’s cold, steady voice. “What business does this Chancellor have to discuss with you?”
Pei Jingyi didn’t take offense. Instead, his grin widened. He leaned low, nearly lying flat against the horse’s back in a slouching posture, tilting his head toward the window.
“Where is the Chancellor heading for such a fine outing today?”
As long as he didn’t steer the conversation toward the gutter or speak of lewd nonsense like “jade flutes,” Gu Huaiyu was willing to indulge him with a few words.
He leaned against a soft cushion and flipped a page of his book. “The matter regarding the assassins has yielded some clues,” he said indifferently. “I am going to see for myself.”
Pei Jingyi’s brows shot up. “The Chancellor knows who tried to kill him?”
After a moment of silence, Gu Huaiyu replied, “I am ninety percent certain their surname is Yuan.”
The Imperial Family?
Pei Jingyi’s brow furrowed. The only clue Zhou Ruian had given him before dying was about a high-level mole from Eastern Liao planted within Great Chen—someone who wore a thumb ring engraved with the word “Chengtian.”
This person had ambushed Gu Huaiyu at West Mountain Temple. Now, Gu Huaiyu was saying the assassins were from the Imperial Family.
A noble of the Yuan bloodline was actually an undercover agent for Eastern Liao? This was far more troublesome than he had anticipated.
He suddenly let out a laugh and rapped his knuckles against the carriage window. “Chancellor, I happen to have a bit of insider information…”
***
At the lakeside on the city’s outskirts, the thin ice of late winter was quietly melting away.
The pavilion was built over the water, half-hidden at the foot of a hill. Vermilion pillars reflected the shimmering light of the waves, marking it as a truly elegant retreat.
When Gu Huaiyu stepped into the pavilion, a wave of warmth surged forward, dispelling the chill.
He walked forward with easy grace, untying the knot of his cloak. “I was delayed on the road. I hope Your Highness hasn’t been waiting long.”
Inside the pavilion, the charcoal fires burned brightly, and the incense burner emitted curls of green smoke.
Prince Xian was busy brewing tea. Seeing his guest arrive, he stood with a smile. “The Chancellor is too kind. Good scenery doesn’t compete with time. The plum blossoms in this garden were waiting for no one but you.”
Gu Huaiyu removed his cloak and was about to hand it to his attendant when he turned around.
Pei Jingyi was standing at the entrance, arms spread wide, nonchalantly allowing the guards to frisk him.
When he saw Gu Huaiyu looking over, he slowly blinked, his eyes seemingly brimming with flirtatious intent.
Gu Huaiyu turned back with a cold face, but he heard a low chuckle from behind, as if the man had just encountered something delightful.
Prince Xian seemed to only just notice the situation at the door. He waved his hand, signaling the guards to step back. “There is no need for a search. General Pei is one of our own.”
The guards immediately retreated.
Pei Jingyi strode into the pavilion and naturally took the cloak from Gu Huaiyu’s hand. As he sat down, he draped the cloak over his own lap, his movements as practiced as if he had done it a thousand times before.
Prince Xian’s gaze fell on the wound on Pei Jingyi’s ear. “General Pei, that injury…”
With a crisp crack, Pei Jingyi cracked open a peanut and tossed it into his mouth. He said with a look of feigned helplessness, “Got scratched by a cat while I was trying to steal something.”
Prince Xian looked thoughtful. He glanced at the cold-faced Gu Huaiyu and sat down beside him, lowering his voice in explanation. “Please don’t take offense at the guards earlier. I was merely being cautious.”
Gu Huaiyu picked up his tea and took a shallow sip. “Understandable. After the recent assassination attempt, I’ve added more guards to the Chancellor’s Estate as well.”
Prince Xian’s brow furrowed in concern. “The one who attacked the Chancellor—was it that Zhou Ruian? I saw the bounty posters quite a while ago. Has he really not been brought to justice yet?”
Gu Huaiyu’s finger traced the rim of the celadon cup. “It wasn’t that matter,” he said dismissively. “The other day, when I went to West Mountain Temple, I ran into a few fools looking for a quick death.”
Prince Xian looked surprised. “When did this happen? Why haven’t I heard of it?”
Gu Huaiyu casually replaced the tea lid and set it on the table. “A minor matter. Those assassins didn’t leave a scratch on me. Instead, I had them flayed alive.”
“I left their bodies at the Vegetable Market to rot for seven days. My anger has finally subsided.” His pale fingertips toyed with the porcelain knob of the tea lid, looking thoroughly pleased and satisfied, as if savoring a memory.
