The midday sun hung high over the Hall of Chaste Government, its light shimmering off the golden roof tiles in a radiant flow.
Gu Huaiyu came to a sudden halt. Without turning back, he raised a hand. “Wait here.”
Behind him, Pei Jingyi looked up at the tightly closed doors of the hall. He adjusted his sleeves with mock solemnity. “It has been quite some time since I last saw His Majesty. I am deeply concerned for his well-being; it is only right that I pay my respects.”
Gu Huaiyu shot him a sideways glance, unable to discern what scheme the man was brewing. “You just killed the Emperor’s uncle,” he remarked dryly. “Seeing you will only give him a headache.”
As Pei Jingyi opened his mouth to retort, Gu Huaiyu’s slender, pale finger pressed firmly against his chest. Pei Jingyi’s throat tightened as the Chancellor spoke: “Crouch down. Stay here until I come out. Don’t wander off.”
The gesture was hardly how one addressed a peer.
Pei Jingyi let out a grin, and his tall, imposing frame suddenly dropped by half.
Even while crouching, his broad shoulders were still an inch higher than Gu Huaiyu’s waist, making it effortless for the Chancellor to reach out and pat the crown of his head.
The moment Gu Huaiyu’s palm touched his hair, Pei Jingyi took a mile for every inch given. He leaned in, lowering his head and rubbing the back of his neck against the Chancellor’s palm. “Then the Lord Chancellor had best come out quickly.”
Under the broad daylight and the watchful eyes of the court, the surrounding eunuchs and maids all lowered their heads, though they couldn’t stop their eyes from darting toward the scene.
***
Inside the hall, a gilded bronze censer breathed out wisps of sandalwood smoke.
It happened to be the hour for the midday meal. Yuan Zhuo was holding his chopsticks when he saw Gu Huaiyu enter. His eyes lit up instantly, and his silver chopsticks clattered against the rim of his porcelain bowl. “Minister, you’ve come!”
He stood up immediately, rushing to Gu Huaiyu’s side and pulling at his sleeve toward the dining table. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”
Gu Huaiyu had been busy all morning and had no appetite. He shook his head. “I have eaten.”
Upon seeing him, Yuan Zhuo lost interest in his food as well. He turned to the servants and barked, “Clear it all away!”
Gu Huaiyu pressed a hand to the Emperor’s wrist. “There is no rush. Please finish your meal first, Your Majesty.”
Yuan Zhuo immediately sat back down, grabbed his jade bowl, and shoveled the remaining food into his mouth. His cheeks puffed out like a hamster’s. “I’m finished.”
A grain of rice still clung to the corner of his mouth, yet he waved his hand impatiently. “Everyone, leave us!”
The servants retreated, and a heavy silence settled over the hall.
Gu Huaiyu looked at the boy and sighed deeply in his heart. He sat down on the edge of the brocade couch and called out softly, “Little Zhuo.”
Hearing his childhood nickname, the cloth Yuan Zhuo was using to wipe his mouth froze at his lips.
He looked down and chuckled, but when he raised his head, the rims of his eyes were red. He lunged toward the couch, throwing himself onto Gu Huaiyu’s knees. “Ever since I took the throne…”
The young Emperor’s voice was tight, thick with long-suppressed grievances. “Brother has never called me that again.”
Gu Huaiyu gently stroked the top of his head, as if soothing a child. “Your Majesty’s name must be respected.”
“Then I would rather not be Emperor!” Yuan Zhuo blurted out.
Gu Huaiyu’s expression turned cold.
Yuan Zhuo immediately shrank back, lowering his head like a child admitting a mistake. “I misspoke.”
Gu Huaiyu looked down at the boy and cut straight to the point. “I came today to discuss a matter of grave importance.”
“The assassin from several months ago, Commander Zhou—”
He paused, his gaze sharpening. “He did not act alone. He was directed by someone. I have confirmed that his master is a high-level Eastern Liao mole planted within Great Chen.”
Yuan Zhuo straightened up, his expression becoming solemn as he listened intently.
However, his fingers were secretly inching toward the edge of the couch. His movements were slow and cautious, as if afraid of startling something, only stopping when his fingertip brushed against Gu Huaiyu’s pinky.
Gu Huaiyu’s expression remained unchanged. “This mole first sent Zhou Ruian to assassinate me. After that failed, he set an ambush at West Mountain Temple.”
“You were ambushed?!”
Yuan Zhuo stood up abruptly, his eyes frantically scanning Gu Huaiyu’s body as if trying to see through his robes for wounds. “Are you hurt? Did the imperial physicians—”
“Your Majesty.” Gu Huaiyu remained as steady as a mountain, dismissing the concern lightly. “I am fine. In fact, I used the assassin’s corpse as bait to catch a very large fish.”
Yuan Zhuo blinked, his brow furrowing. “Grand Preceptor Dong?”
Gu Huaiyu almost wished it were Grand Preceptor Dong; it would have saved him the trouble of breaking this to Yuan Zhuo gently.
But it wasn’t. He continued in a calm voice, “Today, I confirmed this person was an Eastern Liao spy and had him executed.”
Before Yuan Zhuo could finish processing the words “Eastern Liao spy,” he felt a cold, delicate hand take hold of his own.
