At the first quarter of the hour of the Tiger.

A shadowy figure knocked on Shen Que’s door. He didn’t make a sound, just stood there, knocking rhythmically, one knock after another.

Shen Que, who was in a deep sleep, was startled awake by the noise. His hand reached for the curved knife by the bedside and tapped twice on the bed frame, asking who was there.

The person outside seemed not to understand his response and continued knocking on the door as if nothing had happened.

Shen Que’s heart immediately sounded the alarm. He lit a fire starter and ignited an oil lamp.

Then, he slowly got up, holding his usual curved knife, and quietly approached the door. But just as he reached the door, he heard a “creak,” and the door latch was somehow pushed open.

The door opened a crack, and Shen Que instinctively used his body to block it. But the person outside was surprisingly strong, squeezing through the door and forcing his way in.

Shen Que’s curved knife unsheathed with a “clang,” slicing through the darkness and pressing against the intruder’s neck.

The shadowy figure didn’t seem afraid and smiled, “Shen Que.”

The voice was low and hoarse, not like anyone he knew.

Shen Que pressed the knife half an inch closer, the cold blade touching the person’s neck, but the person remained calm, “Put the knife down.”

Shen Que glared at him, refusing to listen.

“If you kill me, you won’t survive either,” the person said lightly, his eyes curving as if still smiling, “I know your secret, Shen Que.”

Shen Que’s heart skipped a beat, recalling the thief who had spied on him from the rooftop that night.

The person in front of him seemed to think he hadn’t made himself clear enough, so he added fuel to the fire, “That night, I saw everything clearly. You’re a freak, neither male nor female, aren’t you?”

He emphasized the word “freak” with a malicious tone, his laughter low and ill-intentioned.

Shen Que gritted his teeth, clenching his fists in anger.

“Before I came, I left a letter. If I die for no reason, the Prince will definitely trace it back to you. Do you believe it?”

Shen Que had no choice but to put away the curved knife, but before he could sheath it, the person lunged at him, grabbing his neck and pinning him onto the bed.

Shen Que gasped for breath, glaring at the ordinary-looking man in front of him. He seemed to be in his thirties, with a circle of stubble on his chin, clearly neglected in grooming.

In the Prince’s Mansion for over thirteen years, he had never seen this person before.

The man’s hand loosely gripped his neck, his thumb lightly rubbing Shen Que’s Adam’s apple. Not satisfied with just touching his neck, he shamelessly tugged at his collar.

Shen Que, both angry and scared, pushed him away forcefully, pulling his collar back up. His gestures were heavy, clearly furious, “Who are you?”

The man laughed, “Guess.”

“An assassin?” Shen Que guessed. The King of Yan had a group of assassins, hidden eyes of the Prince, and even he didn’t know where they were or how many there were. He had only occasionally encountered them, all masked.

The man didn’t deny it, casually kicking off his boots and squeezing onto Shen Que’s bed, then frowning slightly, “So hard. You earn a decent salary, why not put an extra layer of blankets on the bed?”

Shen Que pushed him again, this time not playfully like a coquettish actor, but genuinely trying to throw him to the ground.

But the man merely shifted slightly, still sitting firmly.

“What do you want?!” Shen Que was anxious, retreating a step to press his back against the wall, his hands moving quickly, “Want money? How much? Just say it.”

The man looked at him with interest. Shen Que was usually a gentle person, and he had never seen him so flustered and angry.

So he spoke, following Shen Que’s lead, “How much do you have?”

Hearing that he wanted money, Shen Que thought he could be bought off with money, and he relaxed slightly. He quickly climbed over the man, jumped off the bed, and pulled out a tattered wooden box from under the bed.

With a “click,” he opened it and handed it to the man.

The man glanced down, seeing only a few small-denomination silver notes, a shallow layer of silver ingots, and the red lacquered, worn-out wooden box, making it look even more shabby.

“Is this all you’ve saved?” The man seemed incredulous, “You get your salary every month, and during the holidays, the master gives you some rewards. Where did you spend it all?”

Shen Que thought he was dissatisfied with the amount, so he put down the box and signed, “This is all I have. Do you want it or not?”

The man didn’t respond, still asking, “Didn’t you spend it all on courtesans?”

Shen Que looked at him in surprise, then anger, not understanding why this person was full of filthy thoughts.

Seeing his anger, the man seemed pleased, pursing his lips, “Not courtesans, then is it actors? Actors cost more than courtesans. Can your little savings buy him a set of headgear?”

Drinking, visiting courtesans, gambling, and supporting actors, things others loved, he didn’t touch at all. He was a proper person, how could he endure such slander?

But after the anger, Shen Que gradually calmed down, looking seriously at the man on the bed, “How much do you want? I’ll try to gather it, but just this once, and we’re done.”

“Ten thousand taels,” the man said, “Do you have it?”

Shen Que realized that this person was just playing with him. He became anxious again, grabbing the man’s collar and angrily signing with his other hand, “What do you really want?”

The man caught his fierce wrist, answering irrelevantly, “My name is Lin Xie.”

Before Shen Que could react, the man who called himself Lin Xie suddenly fell backward, pulling Shen Que into his arms, whispering in his ear, “What I really want, I haven’t decided yet. But your money doesn’t interest me.”

As he spoke, he reached into Shen Que’s collar, deliberately brushing against a certain protrusion. Shen Que couldn’t help but shiver, jumping up and slapping the man across the face.

Lin Xie was stunned by the slap, looking at Shen Que in disbelief.

Shen Que glared at him, signing, “You bastard!”

That slap was enough to get Shen Que killed a hundred times over.

Lin Xie sprang up, using a few moves to pin Shen Que down, then untied his belt, binding Shen Que’s hands to the bedpost, and pinched his chin, leaning in, “You have some nerve.”

“Do you believe I’ll expose your secret? How will they see you then? Do you dare to imagine?”

Shen Que’s eyelashes trembled, wanting to speak, but with his hands bound, he could only shake his head slightly, looking at him pleadingly.

Lin Xie seemed pleased by his gaze, carefully adjusting his loose collar, then suddenly had a revelation, raising an eyebrow with a light smile.

“I suddenly know what I want,” Lin Xie pressed his forehead against Shen Que’s, speaking intimately, “That night on the roof, it was too dark inside, I couldn’t see clearly.”

“Maybe I was wrong, wronging an innocent person like you…”

Shen Que heard his words, but his gaze kept drifting downward. He might be naive, but he wasn’t stupid!

“This time, I want to take a good look,” Lin Xie smiled roguishly, “But I’m a very good and kind person. If you don’t want me to, I won’t look, okay?”

Shen Que immediately struggled.

Lin Xie pressed down on his kicking legs, continuing, “Alright, if you don’t want to, just say a word, just one ‘no,’ and I’ll stop immediately.”

Shen Que couldn’t move, trying his best, but only managed to make two muffled sounds, two incoherent syllables rolling out of his throat.

Seeing his eyes redden with anger, Lin Xie sighed, “Alright, since you’re not saying anything, I’ll take it as a yes.”

*

“Hey, Ah Que,” Shen Luo put away his spear, calling him, “What are you daydreaming about all morning?”

Shen Que snapped back to reality at his call, but he was still listless, his mind filled with last night’s events, unable to focus even during morning martial arts practice.

“Didn’t sleep well last night?” Shen Luo asked, concerned, leaning in to look at him.

Hearing “last night,” Shen Que’s mind conjured up the image of that person, the extremely humiliating and shameful memory.

No matter how he struggled later, it was all in vain, and that person held a lamp, stripping him, pressing his legs, looking inch by inch.

The oil lamp was close, and so were the person’s eyes. He didn’t know if he was afraid of the fire or being seen, trembling with anger, his eyes reddening in frustration.

But facing Shen Luo’s concern, he didn’t dare say anything, pursing his lips, signing, “Had a nightmare last night, woke up scared, couldn’t sleep.”

Shen Luo, hearing it was a nightmare, said, “I have a string of green sandalwood beads that have been blessed. I’ll bring it over after my shift, hang it by your bed to ward off evil.”

“No need to trouble yourself,” Shen Que smiled bitterly. Those prayer beads could ward off evil spirits but couldn’t stop a wicked heart and mind, “I’m not a child, I don’t have nightmares often, not afraid.”

Shen Luo gently wrapped an arm around his shoulder from behind, seeing he didn’t resist, he held him firmly, “What’s the trouble? I sleep soundly, not a single dream all night. You live alone, the room’s cold and empty, having something blessed by Buddha brings peace of mind.”

Shen Que’s nose tingled, feeling a bit of grievance, and also for Shen Luo’s kindness. He lost his mother young, and his father sold him for a drink, no one cared for him, only Shen Luo, his senior brother, kept him in mind. Shen Que was truly grateful.

He didn’t dare express his thanks, fearing a scolding from his senior brother, so he kept it in his heart.

The two walked side by side, but then Shen Luo suddenly said, “Brother’s leaving.”

Shen Que quickly turned his head, “Where to?”

“Western Sichuan,” Shen Luo said, “This summer, Western Sichuan suffered a severe drought, and many wildfires broke out. The people are struggling, barely surviving until this winter. The rice bins are empty, and there’s not enough charcoal. Many have died from cold and hunger.”

He paused, then continued, “Now, the people are rioting, forming groups and colluding with bandits. The Sword South Western Sichuan Jiedushi is old and may not be able to suppress it. His Highness wants me to be a deputy general, leaving with the Marquis of Wu’an tomorrow to quell the rebellion.”

Shen Que stared at him without blinking.

The battlefield is dangerous, not to mention the risk of quelling a rebellion, which targets ordinary people. If handled well, it may not make one a hero, but if not, even one’s head might not be safe.

This doesn’t seem like a good task, and under normal circumstances, Xie Shiguan wouldn’t send his personal guards. This time, he chose Shen Luo, likely borrowing the anger from Shen Luo’s previous disobedience.

Shen Que thought he might not know, but hearing Shen Luo’s words, he understood.

His Highness knew everything, just didn’t bother to deal with it at the time.

Shen Que knew he was suffering for his sake, feeling extremely guilty, decisively signing, “I’ll beg His Highness, let me go instead!”

Shen Luo quickly pulled him back, “Did you forget the last beating? The flesh on your back just healed, and you forgot the pain?”

Shen Que stubbornly looked at him, clearly not planning to change his mind.

Shen Luo knew his temperament, usually gentle and easy to handle, but once he set his mind on something, not even nine mules could pull him back. So he had to put on a stern face and say harsh words, “Who do you think you are? Just because you’ve served His Highness closely for over ten years, you think your words carry weight and power? After all those years together, His Highness was still willing to take your life for a little maid!”

“I made a mistake, disobeyed His Highness’s orders, I deserve the punishment, no need for you to fuss.”

He lowered his voice, whispering in Shen Que’s ear, “With His Highness’s temper, if you plead and upset him, neither of us will have a good outcome, understand?”

Shen Que seemed hurt by his words, but he knew Shen Luo said those harsh words for his own good.

Shen Luo was right, he meant nothing to His Highness. Now, His Highness letting him stay by his side was already merciful, how could he have the right to plead for others?

He was dejected, lowering his head, “When you’re gone, I won’t have anyone to talk to in this mansion.”

“I’ve instructed Shiyi, that kid is outgoing and knows sign language. He’ll visit you often to keep you company,” Shen Luo comforted, patting his hand, “I won’t be gone long, I’ll be back in the spring.”