Chapter 48

Full of youthful vigor, Wei Jing always became passionately moved with every deep kiss.

In a daze, Shao Qing found herself pinned onto the couch—one large hand roaming over her body. She instinctively tried to recoile, but when she did, another arm clamped around her like an iron vise, holding her fast and keeping her from moving.

Wei Jing’s breathing grew rapidly, and he finally released her, pressing her face tightly into his embrace. His heavy, rough breaths filled her ears while Shao Qing’s fair face flushed with a tinge of rouge. She kept her eyes tightly closed, not daring to open them or make a move. Through several layers of fabric, she could feel a hard, solid object pressing against the base of her leg, its heat nearly burning through.

The untamed passion in Wei Jing’s veins seemed about to burst forth; her soft, fragrant embrace filled his arms, with a faint, alluring scent lingering by his nose. Despite his repeated efforts to subdue the surge of emotion, it made little difference. He planted deep, heavy kisses on Shao Qing’s rosy cheek, rolled off the couch, and hurriedly retreated behind the screen.

Soon after, the sound of water could be heard from behind the screen, leaving Shao Qing even more flushed.

Hmm, he’s really overreacting today.

Trying to distract herself with scattered, even wild thoughts, she hurriedly straightened her disarrayed clothing. When Wei Jing later emerged in a set of casual home clothes, she tried to act nonchalant and said, “Let’s have dinner.”

“Mm.”

When the evening meal was served, Shao Qing—who was careful to follow her light, medicinal diet—kept her dish very plain. As usual, her first move was to pick up some vegetables with her chopsticks, but Wei Jing frowned and served her a piece of mandarin fish.

“Second Master He will arrive tomorrow.” After spending so many days together, Wei Jing naturally understood that his wife did not enjoy being confined to the inner quarters. He granted her plenty of freedom, and once her severe illness had just subsided, he began discussing matters of the outside world with her every day—so that she wouldn’t be left in complete isolation.

Shao Qing’s hand paused while she was picking up a piece of fish. “Second Master He has finally arrived?”

It was no wonder she chose the word “finally.” Although Anyang County was quite a distance from Gucheng, the state’s administrative center, a brisk journey would typically take six or seven days, and a slower pace about ten days. No matter what, one would eventually arrive. It had now been nearly a month since her illness, yet there was still no sign of Second Master He.

It wasn’t that he was intentionally neglecting Wei Jing—his recently appointed right hand—but rather that he had been delayed on the way.

Third Master He, having suffered the bitter loss of Anyang County, would never simply let things be. Seizing the moment when his rival was basking in complacency, he stirred up a major disturbance in Yiliang County—rumor had it that the chaos there was even worse than in Anyang—and it had only calmed down recently. Only then did Second Master He resume his journey toward Anyang County. He had sent word earlier, and he was expected to arrive either tomorrow or the day after.

So, Shao Qing wasn’t surprised; what worried her was another matter. “Husband, has Second Master He met with you?”

The higher they ascended, the more she fretted about that very question. Fortunately, Yizhou was a remote, mountainous region—where the emperor’s presence was but a distant echo. Wei Jing shook his head. “In past years, I’ve been stationed on the northern frontier.”

He rarely returned to the capital, and given that the journey spanned thousands of miles, the vast majority of Yizhou’s officials, regardless of rank, had never even had the opportunity to see the capital in their lifetime. On the rare occasions when someone did go, they could hardly compare to him. But if anyone in Yizhou were asked, would anyone have ever really seen him?

The answer is yes.

That person is none other than He Yun, the Governor of Yizhou. Every year, following the New Year’s court audience, an imperial feast is held. As the head of a province, He Yun occupies a position not far from the emperor—in other words, he is close enough to Wei Jing that he would definitely be able to recognize the individual. Besides him, there is no one else; after all, not everyone is qualified to attend the New Year’s audience and feast, let alone be seated in a position from which one can clearly see the true countenance of the emperor and empress.

Speaking of this, Shao Qing worried about another matter: “Husband, won’t you have to attend the New Year’s audience next year as well?”

Governors and county magistrates from various regions are all on the list for attending the court audience. Setting aside any feelings of hatred or humiliation, Wei Jing must avoid running into any of his former acquaintances!

Wei Jing replied, “Don’t worry; we’ll discuss it when the time comes.”

They’ll surely be able to devise a counterplan; at worst, there’s the final resort of suffering serious injuries from bandits on the way to the capital. Compared to the importance of Anyang County, everything else is a trivial matter.

Shao Qing agreed—there’s no need to rush. For now, let’s secure the official appointment document and then see what kind of person this Second Master He really is.

……

Second Master He arrived very quickly. The next evening, he reached Gaoling accompanied by his retinue of guards. He was a young man in his early twenties—fair-skinned, tall, and lean. Though not exactly handsome, he carried himself with a dignified, broad spirit that befits the title of a governor’s son.

When He Hong first met “Yang Ze,” he was also surprised. Though he had prepared himself for someone exceptional, the man before him—handsome, tall, and impressively imposing—still exceeded his expectations. A brief glimmer passed through his eyes, but he quickly recovered his composure. Laughing heartily, he stepped forward and supported Wei Jing—who was about to greet him—declaring, “Zikuang, you are equally gifted in civil and martial aspects. Seeing you in person today truly confirms that your character is exceptional.”

As he exchanged cordial words with Wei Jing, he also called over the civil and military officials from Anyang. In unison, they all rose and cast swift glances—some faces were familiar, like Fan Ya, while others were new, such as Ji Huan and Han Xi. The literati lined up on the left and the warriors on the right, arranged neatly in perfect order. From top to bottom, Anyang County was in impeccable order.

“Second Master, you flatter me.” Wei Jing maintained graceful composure, his face showing just a trace of fitting excitement as he replied, “Your gracious recognition moves me to tears.”

After this warm and friendly exchange between the two, the welcome feast began.

Before the banquet, during a brief interval while freshening up, He Hong’s trusted advisor, Chen Pan, whispered, “My lord, Yang Zikuang is like a rare prized steed capable of covering a thousand miles.”

It is, of course, well known how rare a ‘thousand‐mile horse’ is—and yet every such treasured colt is equally difficult to control.

Taking the towel from Chen Pan, He Hong slowly wiped the water droplets from his hand. After a thoughtful silence, he remarked, “However, I am the son of a governor, and he now serves as an official in Yizhou.”

Whether a thousand‐mile horse is easy to handle is another matter; no matter how capable that prized colt may be, it can never replace one’s inherent status. On the contrary, if “Yang Ze” wishes for a smooth official career, he cannot do without that fundamental backing.

Many times, ability is not everything.

With that in mind, He Hong tossed the towel aside. Since this man is indeed capable, it is best to win him over properly.

As dusk gathered, the front hall of the Gaoling County Governor’s mansion shone as brightly as day. On either side of the hall stood seven or eight branch-shaped candle holders with contiguous candlesticks, their giant flames leaping and dancing. Inside, the space was divided into dozens of tables and seats. Sumptuous dishes and fine wines were laid out in abundance; He Hong, his attendants, and the entire hierarchy of Anyang County took their seats. Beautiful maidservants carried wine pots to serve while the sounds of stringed and bamboo instruments played unceasingly, and graceful beauties danced elegantly at the center of the hall.

The atmosphere was extremely festive. After one musical number ended, Chen Pan laughed and said, “A talent like Zikuang is so outstanding that no ordinary refined lady could ever be a proper match for him—in fact, my lord happens to have a younger sister, just fifteen, who is actively seeking a fine husband.”

With hearty laughter, he said to He Hong, “My lord, how about I act as the great matchmaker?”

Although marriage alliances have become the most common method of cultivating support, one must admit that this move struck a nerve with Wei Jing. A cold, wry smile flickered in his heart—who in their right mind would dare to scheme for his wife?!

Indignant yet maintaining a gentle smile, he politely declined, “I already have a wife; though I may be ordinary, at least I have to honor filial piety to my mother.”

Having a wife is one of those non-negotiable standards—and besides, a governor’s daughter could never be reduced to the status of a concubine. Before He Hong could speak, Chen Pan clapped his hand to his mouth and said, “I was rash. I was truly rash. Please forgive me, my lord.”

“I shall punish myself with three cups.”

Seeing that the matter was going no further, He Hong let it drop and, as a punishment, had Chen Pan drink his wine. Smiling, he turned to Wei Jing and remarked, “The official appointment decree has been sent to Yizhou; it should arrive within half a month at the latest. Zikuang, your luck is extraordinary—it perfectly coincides with His Majesty’s first grand audience since ascending the throne!”

(The “appointment decree” is the court’s formal appointment document. A month ago, the Governor of Yizhou, He Yun, sent off a memorial overnight to the capital recommending ‘Yang Ze’ for the post of Governor of Anyang County. Unsurprisingly, it was promptly approved. The decree is now on its way to Anyang County. As governor, He Yun possesses his own channels—and He Hong mentioned this deliberately as a gesture of favor.)

Wei Jing’s face immediately lit up with grateful delight as he raised his cup and said, “Thank you, young master, for your patronage; I dedicate this cup to you!”

“Very well!”

……

After a lively, noisy two hours, the banquet ended. Second Master He and his entourage then proceeded to the prearranged guest compound. Not long after—and with the wine still in his system—Wei Jing was escorted back to his study, where he slowly sat up, his eyes clear and alert.

Ji Huan had also arrived and commented, “My lord, this Second Master He seems rather calculating.”

The moment he set eyes on Wei Jing, he began conning an alliance by offering his sister in marriage, making it clear he was a man with well-laid plans and influence.

Wei Jing replied coolly, “Whether he is calculating or not makes little difference.

His scheming against He Hong essentially ends here. Just as He Hong had presumed—one is the governor’s son, while the other is an official in Yizhou—their interests are fundamentally in different realms.

Nowadays, many governors are virtually as good as hereditary. A county prefect cannot possibly oversee two counties at once. The expansion of power attainable by ordinary means has reached its limit.

Before the great upheaval begins—or at least in its early stages—it will suffice to maintain his current relationship with He Hong. This is not difficult; even for a governor’s son, promoting someone to take charge of a county is no easy feat, and He Hong won’t act rashly over even a small precaution.

Ji Huan understood this well, so he was worried about another matter: “My lord, what about the court audience…?”

His concern was the same as Shao Qing’s, yet Wei Jing repeated his usual words: “We’ll discuss that in detail another day.”

Secure the official appointment decree first. Compared to Anyang County, the rest are trivial matters. Besides, although there isn’t an optimal plan now, that may not always be the case. It’s only mid-October and there are still over two months until the court audience, so there’s no rush.

Wei Jing then dismissed everyone, stood up, and headed out.

A slender, cold moon hung high; in the pitch-black night, the cold wind whipped fiercely. In the early winter of the southwest, there was no snow yet, but the moist chill seemed as if it could freeze right into one’s bones.

Wei Jing, robust and skilled in martial arts, did not feel particularly cold, but he was preoccupied with thoughts of Shao Qing, so his pace quickened. He wondered silently, “I wonder if she’s asleep yet?”

…

Shao Qing hadn’t gone to sleep yet. She had enough of her afternoon nap and wasn’t sleepy, so she reclined on her luxurious boudoir couch with a book in hand. When she heard the door and sensed Wei Jing returning—reeking of alcohol—she quickly sent him off to wash up.

“Husband, what about He Hong?”

In the warm, tender atmosphere of her chamber, Shao Qing had let down her hair and was dressed only in her nightgown. With the blanket rolled around her, she lay propped up at the head of the bed, a cascade of dark silky hair draped over her shoulders; her features looked as graceful as a painting, and she regarded him with curious eyes.

The anger in his chest—a resentment built up from Chen Pan’s affront—had only subsided. He pulled the blanket back, climbed into bed, and enfolded Shao Qing in his arms as he spoke gently, “He’s quite capable, but that doesn’t matter.”

Wei Jing then went over all the previous matters, deliberately omitting the details of Chen Pan’s transgression.

“And what about our people? Have they all been properly arranged?”

At present, Anyang County is still under Yizhou’s jurisdiction. Knowing both oneself and one’s enemy ensures victory in every battle. A month ago, Wei Jing had already ordered Han Xi to find a way to plant spies in Gucheng. This was exactly what Shao Qing was asking about.

Wei Jing nodded. “It’s all been arranged—there’s already word coming back.”

“Oh?” she said. “So soon?”

“He Xin suffered a massive loss—he lost Anyang County and half of Yiliang County. He’s absolutely livid.”

He Xin, that is, Third Master He. The men Wei Jing recently planted on the periphery would never have access to confidential matters. Yet for days now, this Third Master has worn a sullen expression; his followers have repeatedly assailed the officials under He Hong, and not to mention, the fierce quarrel between the third and fourth wives in the governor’s household has been raging. Needless to say, he must be seething with hatred.

Moreover, Wei Jing also received an interesting intelligence report:
“While He Hong was heading to Anyang County with his party, someone was secretly tailing them.”

The two He brothers are key targets for the inspectors; they even dispatched experts in agile, light-stepping techniques for long-distance surveillance. The nimble skills of the Qingzhai Guards outclassed those of ordinary trackers, and thus a clue was uncovered.

“Really? Is this He Xin, driven by bitterness, planning to seize the opportunity to strike a lethal blow in secret? A one-and-for-all solution? I doubt it.”

“If He Hong’s weaknesses are so easily exposed, then his defeat is only a matter of time.”

Wei Jing’s evaluation was very impartial, yet based on his judgment of He Hong’s character, he did not believe He Hong would make such a mistake. Tucking in a corner of the quilt for Shao Qing and gently patting her back, he said, “It’s late—go to sleep.”

“Mm.” Shao Qing obediently pulled the covers closer around herself and, with a sigh, remarked, “It seems having too many sons isn’t all that good.”

Just the thought made one feel sorry for He Yun. She stole a quick glance at Wei Jing; after all, his family, too, falls under the “too many sons” category.

Still patting her on the back, Wei Jing comforted her, “It doesn’t matter if they’re born of the same mother.”

Then, very earnestly, he added, “In the future, we’ll raise them properly. We must not allow any discord to arise among the siblings.”

Uh? Why did he suddenly bring that up?! Shao Qing was utterly embarrassed, stammering, “Th-this can be discussed later—I’m going to sleep now.”

Suddenly, she remembered something: Wei Jing was nearly done with his mourning period. Oh no—we are almost finished with mourning. After mourning, naturally, they’d resume the normal marital life, right?

Images of that one discordant scene flashed briefly in her mind, the lingering warmth of their entangled bodies almost palpable. Shao Qing’s ears began to heat up, so she quickly pulled the quilt to cover half of her face, turned away from Wei Jing, and mumbled, “I—I’m going to sleep.”

“Mm.” Wei Jing embraced her from behind, smoothing her dark hair, “Go to sleep.”

Author’s note: Tomorrow, the mourning period ends!!!