Chapter 31

This seemingly childish scribble is one of the secret codes that Wei Jing himself devised in years past. It was intended exclusively for communication between him and about a dozen key leaders of the Qingzhai Guards, known only to them.

Compared with the plum-blossom code—known to more than half of the Qingzhai Guards—its concealment and security are dramatically enhanced.

Wei Jing’s eyes flickered briefly, but he said nothing as he continued forward at a measured pace, protecting Shao Qing.

Shao Qing also remained silent and did not say another word. This place was crowded and noisy—not a good setting for conversation. It was best to explain everything in further detail once they returned to the county yamen.

Just upon arriving at the county yamen, before anyone could exchange a word, Zhuang Yan—who had been waiting eagerly—dropped his pen and hurried over.

“County Magistrate, you are back!” He modestly cupped his hands and said, “I have something to report; please, County Magistrate…”

Zhuang Yan fell silent, and Wei Jing understood. He led Shao Qing ahead toward the study in the county office.

Once they entered the study, Zhuang Yan immediately said, “County Magistrate, about twenty to thirty li to the east of Pingtao, a group of warriors has appeared and has been lingering there for two or three days.”

“Warriors?”

“Yes! There are at least several hundred of them, disguised as itinerant merchants or farmers. They are spread out in all directions without gathering together, and no one seems to know where they came from.”

Their camouflage is exceptionally effective, and they remain very alert. It was purely by chance that Zhuang Yan discovered them so quickly.

He commands more than a dozen merchant caravans that routinely travel in and out of Pingtao. A while ago, one caravan encountered bandits along the road and was fortuitously rescued by another passing caravan. The rescuers struck decisively—swift knife strokes without hesitation—and, with perfectly seamless coordination, efficiently ended the skirmish in a manner that left a deep impression.

The leader of the Zhuang family’s caravan, filled with gratitude, rushed forward to express his thanks. However, the other party did not seem too willing to engage in conversation; their leader offered only a few casual words before hurrying away.

At that time, the Zhuang caravan leader did not pay much heed—as everyone on the move well knew, tight delivery schedules were all too common. But who would have thought that when he returned to the vicinity of Pingtao, he would once again encounter that head leader known for his righteous intervention?

The other party hurried by—a mere fleeting glimpse—but the earlier impression was too profound. The leader of the Zhuang family immediately recognized him, and his brow furrowed without delay.

This was because the individual was now dressed as a peasant, no different from a villager carrying a hoe along the official road. Anyone who can mingle with merchant caravan leaders, constantly traveling out and about, isn’t a fool. Instantly, a peculiar feeling welled up in his heart.

Zhuang Yan had now allied with Wei Jing, serving as a merit officer at the county yamen—a trusted right-hand man—and as a result, the entire Zhuang family had been promoted one rank. As one of Zhuang Yan’s most trusted aides, the leader naturally attached exceptional importance to the safety and order of Pingtao. A chill ran down his spine, and he immediately ordered someone to tail and observe the person cautiously, then rushed back to report to the head of the family.

Zhuang Yan said solemnly, “These people are extremely vigilant and remarkably disciplined. Even though our experienced tracker followed that man, not a single trace of him was found.”

There was no sign whatsoever; a subsequent search turned up nothing. He judged that there must be at least several hundred in all, because the leader recalled that during the earlier rescue, the opposing party had been a large merchant convoy of two or three hundred people.

A group like this loitering around Pingtao truly had Zhuang Yan on edge.

“County Magistrate, I fear we must be extra cautious. Should we dispatch some soldiers in disguise to search?”

Even if several hundred people were operating together, no matter how skilled they were, it would be impossible for them to leave without any trace at all.

Upon hearing this, Shao Qing couldn’t help but steal a glance at Wei Jing. The two had just uncovered the secret code, and almost immediately, they received reports of a well-coordinated, formidable force in the area—making her worry even more.

Wei Jing looked as calm as ever, showing no hint of worry. He simply nodded and said, “I will take care of this matter. You should be credited for your contribution.”

Zhuang Yan exhaled in relief. Although he had seen only the tip of the iceberg of Wei Jing’s abilities, he was completely convinced. With his mind already preoccupied with other concerns, he clasped his hands in farewell and took his leave. Holding several positions and burdened with too many official duties, he truly had no time to spare.

After Zhuang Yan left, Shao Qing quietly closed the door and softly asked, “Husband? Are we really going to send someone out to search for any traces?”

Wei Jing shook his head. “I’ll go take a look tonight.”

That going out tonight was undoubtedly a high-stakes matter—one far beyond what Shao Qing could help with—so she didn’t press the issue further.

After handling the urgent official business, the two walked back to their room hand in hand, had dinner, and then disrobed to rest.

Having just shared the most intimate moments, the daytime had been fine, but at night, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Shao Qing felt a bit uneasy—and she was also worried that he might seek further intimacy, especially since her inner thighs were still sore. Even though he had been so gentle the previous night, she feared another round might be too much to bear. But Wei Jing had no such intention. He gently patted her back and, in a soothing tone, said, “Sleep now.”

“Mm.”

After a moment’s reflection, Shao Qing understood. Part of it was that he cared for her deeply, and another part was that he was still in his mourning period for his mother.

The current mourning customs were not incorporated into the law, and were far less strict than those of later generations, their scope limited solely to the royal family and feudal lords. Moreover, during the Yongchang era, when the rebellion of nine states broke out and the resurgence of the Great Chu was abruptly cut short, Emperor Yongchang, on his deathbed, issued a decree to shorten the mourning period, reducing the customary three-year mourning to nine months.

Because of an inner conflict, Wei Jing, following his late mother’s wishes, completed the requisite rites and immediately consummated his marriage with Shao Qing. However, for the next three months, he certainly intended to observe the full mourning period.

Thinking this over, Shao Qing felt greatly relieved. It wasn’t that she did not want to fulfill her conjugal duty; rather, the thought of last night’s trying process made her scalp tingle.

“If we can delay it for three months, that would be perfect,” she thought. She smiled at Wei Jing and, with complete reassurance, closed her eyes.

Shao Qing did not hide what she felt, and Wei Jing understood her easily. He raised his eyebrows, a mixture of amusement and tenderness flickering in his gaze, and murmured, “It won’t hurt anymore in the future.”

He then wrapped his arm around her, letting her rest her head on his arm.

Their way of sleeping had changed now. Shao Qing no longer curled up on her own, and Wei Jing no longer lay upright with his hands fixed on his stomach. They no longer covered themselves with separate blankets but embraced each other as they slept.

Shao Qing wasn’t very used to it, but being someone who generally sleeps well, she closed her eyes for a while and eventually drifted into a deep, blissful sleep. Her breathing beside her ear became soft and prolonged. Bathed in the moonlight filtered through the window slats, Wei Jing quietly gazed at her sleeping face. After lying there for about half an hour, he gently withdrew his arm and turned over to get off the bed.

He tucked the edges of the quilt around Shao Qing, donned his black, cuffed warrior uniform, and slipped out of the room. With just a tip of his toe, he vanished without a trace.

Silently and without a sound, he slipped out of the city and headed straight for the eastern suburb.

The covert contact code worked because it concealed both direction and distance; Wei Jing quickly reached a spot twenty li into the eastern suburb as indicated by the cipher. At a three-way fork, he concealed himself in the darkness where no one could spot him, and he hadn’t noticed any target either.

However, at the fork stood a conspicuous large milestone. After carefully listening to ensure no one was around, Wei Jing boldly dashed over to the stone tablet.

Sure enough, at the base behind the tablet, he discovered another secret code.

This secret code? Wei Jing raised his sword-like eyebrows slightly.

On the stone tablet was a small, lantern-shaped cipher—very unique and even less well-known. It was one of those he devised together with his trusted strategist Ji Huan during the final battle against the Tatars. However, that series of codes was abandoned due to a change in the battle’s circumstances. Thus, in those days, only the two of them knew this code and its meaning.

“Has Ji Huan come as well?”

Ji Huan, courtesy name Boyan, was a renowned gentleman from Jiangdong and one of the foremost strategists of his time. Amid the internal administrative troubles and external crises, he found no enlightened ruler, so he withdrew to the mountains and rivers. Later, when the Fifth Prince Wei Jing suddenly emerged and the Subei army delivered a crushing blow to the Tatars—achieving the first major victory in decades—Ji Huan admired him immensely and traveled thousands of miles to the northern border to join under Prince Qi’s command and pursue his ambitions.

The relationship between master and vassal was excellent. Wei Jing understood that Ji Huan had long held contempt for Great Chu, but he still acknowledged the talents of the Crown Prince and himself.

Now that the Crown Prince was dead and Wei Jing’s whereabouts unknown, Ji Huan’s departure in anger was entirely expected; it turned out that he had headed south together with the Qingzhai Guardz.

Less than half a year had passed—but it felt like an age.

Wei Jing stood with his gaze lowered for several moments, then, with the tip of his foot, he set off in the southwest direction indicated by the cipher.

…

“Who’s been tailing us? Have you figured out who they are?” At a mountain hollow about two li from the southern bank of the river, Ji Huan frowned and asked Han Xi, who had just returned.

Earlier, the group discovered a traitor within the Qingzhai Guards. They immediately relocated and purged their ranks once more. After expending considerable effort to shake off the pursuit by Prince An’s forces and employing various ruses several times, they confirmed there were no more disloyal members among them and hurriedly resumed their search for Wei Jing.

For more than two months, they scoured the area from east to west, splitting into more than a dozen groups disguised as merchant caravans in their search. They still hadn’t found anything; moreover, their earlier intervention against some unruly bandits had only landed them in trouble.

Zhuang Yan’s tailing men had failed, and they didn’t know that Han Xi had led a detachment to counter-track them.

Han Xi left at noon and only returned at midnight.

“Pingtao’s most prominent family runs a merchant caravan—the head of the family is surnamed Zhuang. This Zhuang family used to be among Pingtao’s foremost merchants. But, two months ago, they caught the favor of the new county magistrate and have since been promoted to official posts, making them one of the top families in Pingtao.”

After following them for half a day, Han Xi managed to piece together the background and inner workings of the caravan leader and the Zhuang family.

Ji Huan nodded and said, “This family is a key player at the Pingtao County yamen, so it’s only natural that many of their subordinates keep a keen watch for any unusual happenings. As long as we don’t stir up trouble, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Han Xi agreed. In truth, with their group’s skills, it would be virtually impossible for mere county soldiers to capture them in the vast wilderness. Our only two concerns are: first, that they might delay the search for Prince Qi and second, that they might attract Prince An’s attention, thereby inviting unnecessary trouble.

Excluding those two, nothing else stands in the way.

Ji Huan glanced at Zhang Yong and Chen Qi, who were listening intently by his side. It was Zhang Yong who first unsheathed his sword to lend assistance that day, with Chen Qi following closely. He hesitated momentarily, believing nothing was as important as the search for the Prince. He was simply afraid of inviting further complications.

Now that trouble had indeed arisen, he wanted to offer a word or two of advice, but he did not wish to dampen their ardor; several times, he brought the words to his lips, only to swallow them back.

“Mr. Ji, this Pingtao County Magistrate is rather something,” remarked Han Xi—ever meticulous, he quickly changed the subject upon noticing the situation.

“And in what way is he interesting?” Understanding Han Xi’s meaning, Ji Huan decided to forgo his advice and continued the conversation along his lead.

“Tch, not only is he brave and resourceful, he’s also skilled. For over ten years, the former County Captain had held dominion over Pingtao, and several county magistrates before and after were powerless against him—but once he arrived, he completely eradicated that tyranny.”

“Huh?” Zhang Yong immediately added, “Then we must investigate this county magistrate, right?”

Ever since the incident with the traitor, as a precaution, Han Xi and the others, after some discussion, decided to abandon the old ‘Plum Blossom’ code—even if it meant greatly reducing efficiency—instead of having the new code broadcast throughout the entire camp.

In addition, Ji Huan proposed that they carefully listen to unusual people or events at every stop along the way. Unlike the new emperor and Prince An, Ji Huan’s understanding of Wei Jing far surpassed theirs. He speculated that Wei Jing might very well be hiding in the shadows, accumulating power in anticipation of toppling the Great Chu dynasty one day.

After all, this Great Chu dynasty has become incurably ill, and with its only two salvations long gone, the signs of its collapse are already evident. If that is true, remote regions such as Yizhou and Jiaozhou would be the most fitting.

Once this proposal was made, Han Xi and the others immediately agreed. They planned to search Yizhou first; if that yielded no results, they would move on to Jiaozhou and, if necessary, even Jingzhou and others.

Thus, following Zhang Yong’s cue, they secretly investigated every unusual person and event—no matter how trivial.

Alas, nothing turned up. But they never lost heart.

Ji Huan nodded and said, “Tomorrow, let’s go into the city first to eavesdrop. If it turns out that this county magistrate is indeed formidable, then we’ll take a closer look at the county office.”

“Agreed!”

Everyone reached an agreement, so they arranged to set up camp and take turns standing guard through the night.

The night breeze blew gently, carrying a touch of coolness. Although there were hundreds of people, their movements were so quiet that they blended in with the grass’s rustling and the trees’ swaying.

Just several dozen meters from the mountain’s base, a clump of grass swayed lightly in the wind without drawing the slightest attention from the sentries. Before anyone could notice, a dark figure had silently slipped into the woods.

---

After Wei Jing returned to the rear courtyard of the county office, it was well past midnight. He gently pushed open the inner room door, worried he might wake Shao Qing. Yet when the door swung open, he found her awake, sitting under the covers.

“Husband, how did it go? Was it them?” In the soft, hazy moonlight filtering through the window screen, she appeared in a white silk nightgown. Her dark hair, tousled and softly draped over her shoulders, framed her clear, bright eyes. Clearly, she had been awake for some time, as her almond-shaped eyes, filled with concern, were fixed intently on him.

On this especially chilly autumn night, although he had ventured out with dewdrops clinging to him, someone was waiting for his return at the stroke of midnight. A silent warmth that had well up from deep within his heart spread quietly into every limb, as if the chill of the autumn night had been left at the door. His normally cold and sharp features softened, and in a gentle tone, he said, “Mm, it’s them.”

Wei Jing removed his overcoat, climbed into bed, pulled her close, and lay down. “Since you’re awake, why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’m not tired.”

When Shao Qing got up during the night, she noticed that the space beside the bed was empty. Worried it wouldn’t be easy to sleep peacefully, she didn’t go back to sleep but waited for him to return.

“So, are we going to contact them this time?”

A few months ago, on the road to Pingtao, Shao Qing asked the same question. At that time, Wei Jing replied that the moment hadn’t come yet. So what about now?

Wei Jing said, “It’s about time. I’ll observe for two more days; there’s no rush.”

When he said there was no hurry, Shao Qing, who couldn’t match his shrewd tactics or understanding of the Qingzhai Guards, remained silent.

“Let’s get some sleep for now.” Wei Jing gently patted her back, and Shao Qing smiled at him. She was about to close her eyes and sleep as usual when he unexpectedly leaned forward and lightly kissed the corner of her lips. Her delicate lips were soft; they still carried a hint of coolness from being outside, yet their warmth remained comfortably soothing.

Eh, that’s not the point—the point is that he kissed her?!

This was the second time Wei Jing had kissed her; the first was last night when the two were in bed. At that time, that kiss was completely normal.
But now, it was not like that.

Shao Qing could sense that his light kiss did not carry the slightest trace of passion—it was a brief touch that quickly faded. He smiled gently, his gaze lowering as he looked at her.

How should she put it? In that split second, the feeling was exactly what one would expect from lovers, catching one completely off guard.

Shao Qing paused in surprise, but seeing Wei Jing’s naturally composed expression, she thought to herself that, since they were now husband and wife, being more intimate was perfectly normal. They simply couldn’t continue interacting as they did before, could they?

With that thought, the awkward, flustered feeling that had suddenly risen washed away, and Shao Qing felt relieved. However, a warm rush still welled up in her, and her cheeks felt a bit warmer than before. She tried hard to ignore the slight tingling sensation at the corner of her lips from the kiss, quickly closing her eyes and muttering, “Oh, then I’m going to sleep.”

With her onyx hair and animated features, now that she had experienced such intimate contact, her expression carried a hint of demure, girlish charm that was noticeably different from before.

Wei Jing couldn’t find the right words to describe the feeling in his heart, but he knew he was pleased. He murmured softly, “Mm, go to sleep.”