Pei Jingyi gave a short nod. “Once the heat dies down, I’ll send you out of the city.”
“Out of the city?”
Zhou Ruian’s coughing tore at the wounds in his mouth, causing bloody pus to leak from his lips. “I’m not going anywhere. I won’t have people laughing at this ghostly state of mine.”
Pei Jingyi untied the wine skin from his waist and poured a few mouthfuls down the man’s throat.
The liquor, mixed with streaks of blood, spilled from the corner of Zhou Ruian’s mouth. He suddenly stared at Pei Jingyi and sneered. “I didn’t realize General Pei was so good with children.”
Pei Jingyi weighed the wine skin in his hand. “Do you want more?”
Zhou Ruian eyed him sideways. “It’s about time you took a wife.”
He paused, his expression turning odd. “I’ve known you for ten years, and I’ve never even seen you with a bed-warming maid. You’re not still a virgin, are you?”
Pei Jingyi let out a cold laugh and tossed the wine skin heavily onto the headboard. “I’m not interested.”
“Stop acting so damn noble!”
Zhou Ruian suddenly became agitated, his blood-stained fingers digging into the bedding. “Back then, Grand Preceptor Dong wanted to betroth his daughter to you! She was the First Beauty of the Capital! You ungrateful bastard actually turned her down!”
Pei Jingyi lowered his eyes and chuckled softly. The First Beauty of the Capital?
Beauty was in the eye of the beholder.
“What?” Zhou Ruian panted, his voice dripping with mockery. “Even a peerless beauty like Lady Dong couldn’t catch the eye of the Great General Pei? What kind of woman are you looking for then?”
Pei Jingyi stood up abruptly, his shadow looming over Zhou Ruian. “You certainly seem to be a connoisseur. So, where are your wife and children now?”
The words were like a blunt knife stabbing into Zhou Ruian’s heart. He began to cough uncontrollably, spraying bloody foam onto the filthy quilts.
Pei Jingyi turned and walked to the window, crossing his arms as he watched him. “Since you don’t want to leave the city, tell me. What are your plans for the future?”
Zhou Ruian glared at Pei Jingyi, his voice like a broken gong. “Plans? What plans can a broken wreck like me have?”
Suddenly, he craned his neck forward, his face twisting into a hideous grimace. “My only plan is to kill Gu Yu!”
Pei Jingyi’s brow furrowed slightly. “And how do you plan to kill him?” he asked tonelessly.
Zhou Ruian choked on his words. It took a long moment before he squeezed out, “I just have to kill him!”
As he spoke, he became increasingly agitated. His sallow face turned a dark red, and his chest heaved violently. “Don’t you think he deserves to die? He’s corrupt, he breaks the law, and he brings ruin to the common people!”
“That son of a bitch grovels before the people of Eastern Liao! If he hadn’t insisted on a peace treaty, we would have trampled Eastern Liao into the dirt long ago! Instead, we pay them in silver and land! We send them annual tribute like cowards!”
Zhou Ruian’s words were like a fire, twisting his entire face with rage. Pei Jingyi simply watched him, his gaze unchanging.
“Since he deserves to die so much,” Pei Jingyi said slowly, his voice low. “Then why did you stop me from killing him?”
Zhou Ruian froze. He muttered something under his breath, his eyes darting around. “…Could you even kill him?”
Pei Jingyi scoffed but didn’t answer.
Zhou Ruian seemed stung by the laugh. He struggled to sit up, his voice trembling. “Who do you think you are? Gu Yu is surrounded by the twelve Iron Eagle Guards—every single one of them is a top-tier master! He enters the palace as if it were his own backyard; even the Emperor has to watch his temper around him! How are you going to kill him?!”
Pei Jingyi stared at him and suddenly smiled. “You’re afraid.”
“Bullshit!” Zhou Ruian roared, but his voice was weak and wavering. “Why the hell would I be afraid of him?!”
Pei Jingyi paced slowly to the bedside and leaned in. His shadow fell over Zhou Ruian like a mountain, making it hard for the man to breathe.
The room fell into a deathly silence, broken only by the crackling of the candle.
Pei Jingyi stopped looking at Zhou Ruian’s distorted face and turned toward the door.
“Wait!”
Zhou Ruian suddenly called out, his voice tinged with a strange urgency. “Are you truly going to kill Gu Yu?”
Pei Jingyi paused but did not turn around.
“I have information…” Zhou Ruian lowered his voice, a hissing sound coming from his throat. “On the fifteenth of every month, Gu Yu goes to the West Mountain Temple outside the city. If you want to kill him, the fifteenth of next month is your best chance.”
Pei Jingyi finally turned, one eyebrow arched. “How would you know that?”
Zhou Ruian’s eyes shifted. “I… I have my own ways.”
Pei Jingyi stared at him for a long time before letting out a soft laugh. “Fine.”
As he pushed open the door, the little girl in the courtyard was crouching on the ground playing with her grass grasshopper, humming the rest of the nursery rhyme:
“Not to carry mud, but to carry flower petals. Grandma Gu boils sugar water; don’t be upset if it spills…”
Pei Jingyi froze in his tracks.
“Little Calico.” He knelt down, his voice very soft. “Who taught you that song?”
The little girl looked up, sugar still stuck to the corner of her mouth. “It was Uncle Zhou. He said if I learned to sing it for the people in the city, someone would give me candy.”
Pei Jingyi’s eyes darkened. “Where in the city?”
The girl tapped her chin as she thought. “Uncle Zhou said I should go to the teahouse in the East Market to sing. There’s an uncle in blue clothes there who loves to listen…”
Pei Jingyi remained silent for a long while. Finally, he reached out and gently wiped the sugar from her mouth. “Don’t play with him anymore.”
