It was the middle of the day, a time when criminals and professionals of adjacent occupations tended to err on the side of caution, restraining their impulses to avoid attracting attention. This was evidently not the case for the men vaulting over walls with reckless abandon and no fear of being seen.
Qu Boyong jumped off the roof, heart pounding in his ears. He landed in a roll, ducking down an alley and whirling about-face, tightening his grip on the blade. His pursuers turned into the alleyway as well. It was a narrow dead-end, easy to defend and hard to attack. The masked men before him had little to no space to maneuver, and could only attack one by one.
He wasn't even trying to gain the upper hand anymore, only to disadvantage his enemies as much as he could. These were professional killers. Qu Boyong could have taken them in a one-on-one, but not when he was outnumbered to this extent. Though he had never caught sight or sound of them before, he instinctively knew that they were from the Zhao household.
“Come on, you bastards!” Qu Boyong snarled, liquid rage pulsing through his veins. The assassins didn’t hesitate in the slightest and lunged forward with a coordinated precision that shaved away at Qu Boyong’s spatial advantage.
The first assassin’s blade connected with Qu Boyong’s, a jarring clash that sent tremors down the arm of both men. Before Qu Boyong could strike again, the assassin lowered his head, the man behind him vaulting over his back to strike.
The blade missed by a fraction of an inch as Qu Boyong hastily ducked, nearly losing his footing. Gritting his teeth, he dodged the flurry of blows but found no chance to land an attack of his own. He continued to retreat back into the dead end until he was cornered. A cold shock jolted down his spine as he finally hit the stone wall behind him.
I might actually die here, Qu Boyong realized. A strange sense of calm came over him, the world seeming to move slower. He threw his blade with deadly precision, the assassin moving to block the knife from lodging in his heart. Qu Boyong took that chance to run, jumping straight up to scramble onto the roof and start creating as much distance as he could.
The precious few seconds losing his weapon had bought Qu Boyong wasn’t quite enough, the assassins once again fast on his tail. Giving up on the idea of taking them on alone, Qu Boyong dashed towards the bustling street without regard for the tiles that shattered under his feet, exchanging speed for subtlety.
He crashed onto the pavement, eliciting a screech of surprise from several passersby. Qu Boyong ignored them, sprinting down the street. He charged straight into a familiar restaurant, knowing it to be crowded at this time of the day, moving faster than the employees at the door could react. By the time they shouted at him to stop, he had already made his way inside
Surely they wouldn’t burst into a place like this!
He was wrong. Qu Boyong’s heart caught in his throat as the masked man followed him in with impunity. Belatedly, he also realized that the restaurant was not at all bustling, as it should have been at this hour.
There was the distinct sound of an expensive blade as it sliced through the air and stopped at Qu Boyong’s neck. It hadn’t drawn blood, but he almost felt as though it had already sliced into his jugular.
Sweat dripping down his face, Qu Boyong glanced down at the blade, carefully keeping still as he looked out of the corner of his eyes. A guard in a high-quality uniform was glaring at him, itching to kill. Before Qu Boyong could react to that, his attention was dragged away by the commotion at the door. He watched with wide eyes as several highly-trained guards emerged out of seemingly nowhere to intercept the assassins, crushing them ruthlessly. One of them was struck with a lethal blow, his body dragged away as the others quickly fled, realizing the situation had spiraled out of control.
Qu Boyong had no attention to spare to the scene below as the blade at his neck pressed into his skin, a thin red line appearing beneath its sharp edge.
Good heavens, Qu Boyong couldn't hold back a gasp that came out sounding more like a whimper.
“How dare you,” the guard snarled in a low voice. Qu Boyong’s fear escalated and jumped several levels as he realized that he had gone from being pursued across the open ground by a few highly-skilled professionals to bursting into a building full of them.
“I-I apologize,” Qu Boyong hastily suppressed his killing intent, doing his best to appear innocent.
“Who the hell are you?” A second guard demanded, his blade pressing into the side of Qu Boyong's ribcage, positioned to plunge straight into his heart.
“Don’t waste your words and disturb the young master’s meal, just arrest him,” a guard called from behind them. Qu Boyong couldn’t turn his head to look, but the authority in the man’s voice told him that it was the guard commander.
Which family’s men are these? Qu Boyong wanted to curse out the heavens but wisely refrained.
Keeping himself very still to avoid the swords at his neck and side, Qu Boyong made to speak.
“Sir, please forgive this lowly one for having eyes but not recognizing the Tai Mountain! It was an honest mistake!” Qu Boyong pleaded, easily slipping on the persona of a frightened commoner. It did absolutely nothing for the highly-trained guards who could sense Qu Boyong was trained in martial arts.
“That’s enough,” a voice called out, sounding much younger than the others. The blades moved away. He was roughly grabbed by the arms and shoved onto his knees.
A teenage boy in expensive robes stared at Qu Boyong with wide eyes, sitting at the solely occupied table in the restaurant. The boy looked to be about fifteen or sixteen and didn’t seem to be very tall. He had fine features that looked strangely familiar and an almost childish air of innocence. A muscular man with a somber face, who Qu Boyong assumed was the guard commander, stood next to the table, flanked by a middle-aged woman who watched the scene impassively.
“Apologies, young master. We will see him removed immediately,” the guard commander bowed slightly. Qu Boyong was roughly dragged to his feet.
“Wait, don’t be so rough,” the teenager protested. The hands on Qu Boyong's shoulders immediately loosened.
“Are you alright? You’re dripping with sweat,” the teenager asked, glancing at Qu Boyong curiously.
Thanking the gods for the young master’s naivety, Qu Boyong hastily bowed his head, forming a story on the spot.
“I apologize, young master, this lowly one deserves death for intruding on your meal!” Qu Boyong said. “I truly did not mean to, I was just in such a panic that I didn’t realize until it was too late!”
The teenager frowned slightly. “What on earth has got you in such a fright? Were those men after your life?”
Qu Boyong hastily bowed. “Sir, please take pity on me! It was an honest misunderstanding! I accidentally offended a noble, and now he is out for my life. I did not mean to insult him in the slightest!”
It was a weak excuse that might fool the young master, but not the guards around him. Thankfully, they only seemed to want Qu Boyong out as soon as possible, not interested in whatever he was involved with.
“Young master, please don’t waste your time on this man,” the guard commander cut in. “It is not safe to allow this man to remain.”
Qu Boyong held his breath as the teenager appraised him for a moment before the boy nodded.
“Alright then. Since it was an accident, let him leave in peace,” he said, before glancing over at Qu Boyong. “You should be careful on your way out, go through the back exit.”
“My deepest thanks to the young master for his graciousness!” Qu Boyong bowed his head lower.
One of the guards stepped toward Qu Boyong menacingly until he quickly scuttled out of the room. There was another guard standing at the entrance to the kitchen, and likely another one at the back exit. Ducking his head, Qu Boyong entered the corridor reserved for staff and servers, which had been left alone by the teenager's security force.
A young master surrounded by guards who were definitely trained in the Imperial Guard… Qu Boyong cursed his luck upon realizing the identity of the teen he had just met.
That must be the kid from Shu family.
Which meant the Fifth Prince would hear of this. At least none of the guards seemed to recognize him. Qu Boyong decided not to test his luck, making his way through as quickly and quietly as he could. Still calming down from his near brush with death, he instinctively ducked behind a pillar as a server stepped into the corridor, belatedly realizing that there was no need to do so. He watched from his hiding spot as a server carrying a stone serving bowl passed, hissing in pain.
“Damn it, the soup bowl is too hot, why can’t we just put this damn thing on a tray? Who the hell thought of this?!” The server mumbled under his breath as he walked past. Another server hurried into the corridor after the first one, quickly catching up with him.
“Here, let me! You’ll spill it all before you get to the front room!” The second server quickly took the bowl. The first server gladly acquiesced.
“Careful, it’s hot,” he warned.
The second server rolled his eyes. “Oh please, not everyone has such delicate hands. Get going, I could carry this with one hand!” He proceeded to do so.
“Goodness, how impressive,” the first server said sarcastically, but turned around and went back to the kitchen. Qu Boyong was now left alone with the second server, who came to a stop a few feet away from the pillar. Qu Boyong held his breath, but the server didn’t notice him at all. Instead, the man retrieved a small sachet of powder from his sleeve and dumped it into the bowl before continuing on his way.
Poison? Qu Boyong watched warily as the server turned the corner and disappeared from sight. He narrowed his eyes, mulling over the situation.
Forget it, it’s not my problem. His guards will figure it out.
Slipping out from behind the pillar, Qu Boyong went down the corridor and left the building. His pursuers were nowhere to be found, having scattered after realizing they might have just run into a member of the Imperial Family. Letting out a sigh of relief, Qu Boyong stepped into the crowd, letting them hide his tracks as he headed back towards his new residence.
Unbeknownst to him, a pair of eyes watched sharply as they tracked his movements through the throngs of people. Quietly moving across the rooftops with enough skill to avoid any kind of attention despite being in broad daylight, Investigator Chen Jian followed Qu Boyong’s movements until the man disappeared into a small house. He observed the surroundings a moment longer before silently taking his leave.
Chen Jian walked down the familiar streets to his house, feeling exhausted in spirit and body alike. It was evening, and the elongated shadows on the street seemed to cast a shadow over his mood as well. He had been among the first batch of Investigators who had been cleared in the internal investigation, just as Li Que had suspected.
He probably should have headed back right away after he had been released, but the thought of the discussion he needed to have with Chen Caichun, as well as the nagging suspicion at the back of his mind, had sent him in pursuit of the elusive Qu Boyong instead.
It had bothered Chen Jian for a while now, why didn’t they have a file on Qu Boyong? Somehow, despite his extremely suspicious activities, the man had managed not to raise any red flags with the Bureau that would have had him under observation. The Bureau had the entire country to monitor on behalf of the Emperor, it wasn't possible to watch every single person. Instead, they followed a checklist of sorts to determine whether someone was a threat who required monitoring, investigation, or even elimination. The checklist was extremely thorough and made life much easier for the Bureau.
Why is this man not on our watchlist? Why did Minister Zhao have to actively cue the Imperial Palace to investigate him?
It was almost as though Qu Boyong knew exactly what the Bureau watched for, as though Qu Boyong had insider knowledge. Chen Jian had a feeling that his suspicions were true. Qu Boyong wasn’t just some opportunistic backstabber, he was a man with resources and connections. His observations this afternoon confirmed that as well.
I’ll have to tell Investigator Li, hopefully, they’ll take him more seriously.
He arrived before his house, smiling as he finally returned after being away for days.
“Caichun, your brother’s back,” Chen Jian called as he pushed the door open. The house was empty.
“Right, she must still be at work,” Chen Jian muttered. Until a few weeks ago, Chen Caichun was always home when Chen Jian returned, usually working on copying scrolls for her clients. He hadn’t yet gotten out of the habit of expecting her to be there.
He went to wash up first and was still drying off when he heard Chen Caichun at the door. She saw the extra pair of boots at the entrance and immediately burst into the inner rooms.
“Brother, you’re finally back!” Chen Caichun called joyfully.
“Hold on, I’m getting dressed,” Chen Jian called back. Chen Caichun obediently remained outside the door.
“I’ll go make some noodles for you,” Caichun said, and her footsteps disappeared down the hallway again. Chen Jian finished wiping off his face and got dressed, heading back into the main room. Chen Caichun glanced up as he entered, leaving her pot on the fire as she ran over to him. Chen Jian squeezed her into a hug, lifting her up and spinning her around.
“I’m back!” Chen Jian said gleefully.
Chen Caichun laughed happily as he set her down, straightening out the folds of Chen Jian’s messy robes.
“They finally cleared you from the investigation?” Chen Caichun asked.
“That’s right, they actually cleared me two days ago, but didn’t want to release me before anyone else, so they held me back until the first batch was released together,” Chen Jian said.
“It’s a good thing. Your path is still long, it’s best not to attract too much animosity or attention from your peers until your foundation in the Bureau is stronger,” Chen Caichun replied.
“You’re right,” Chen Jian agreed. A thought flared up but dissipated just as quickly. There was no need to worry about Chen Caichun while she was under Zhao Wenyuan, he instinctively knew that the Zhao heir would take good care of Caichun.
“You must be tired,” Chen Caichun said. “Have you been eating well? Your color doesn’t look so good.”
“The food wasn’t so bad, but their tea was terrible. Not only were the leaves musty, but it was also badly brewed,” Chen Jian replied. The food had actually been even better than Chen Caichun’s cooking, not that Chen Jian was about to say so.
“Well, you’ll have to make up for what you missed,” Chen Caichun said cheerfully. She started and rushed back to the pot, lifting the lid before it could boil over.
“I made some extra in case you were hungry, it’ll be ready in just a moment,” Caichun called from over her shoulder. Chen Jian’s mood slowly fell, congealing until it settled in his stomach as a heavy lump.
“Caichun, I need to talk to you about something,” Chen Jian said, nervous despite himself.
Caichun glanced at him, extinguishing the fire as she moved the pot aside.
“Alright, let me get your noodles out first,” Caichun said, deliberately keeping her voice even, but Chen Jian could tell that his younger sister was affected by his mood.
Caichun set out two bowls of noodles at the table and the siblings sat down. Chen Jian nervously fiddled with his chopsticks before quickly taking a few bites. Caichun ate slowly, discreetly watching her brother.
Chen Jian finally set down his chopsticks and took a deep breath, Caichun following suit.
“Go ahead, brother,” Caichun said.
Chen Jian hesitated for a moment longer before his words tumbled out in a rush. Like his sister, he had an excellent memory that bordered on being photographic, and he more or less recounted the entire meeting between the Bureau’s core staff to Caichun word for word.
Caichun stared at him in shock as he finished telling her about the core staff’s suspicions about the Archdukes, their mixed opinions on Zhao Wenyuan, and Li Que’s meaningful words to him.
“Well?” Chen Jian asked uneasily.
“Do you know why Investigator Li had you tell me this?” Caichun asked, her tone unusually grave.
“He said I should follow my instincts for what to do, and I thought I should tell you,” Chen Jian replied.
“And the Vice-Director, would he suspect you had learned of this? If he thought he sensed something in the utility closet but was then called away by Investigator Li, then he would surely be suspicious and continue to mull the matter over in his head. A man of his position cannot afford not to be careful, are you absolutely certain that you’re fine?” Caichun asked insistently.
“I think I am,” Chen Jian answered. “I don’t have anything to support that, but I just know it. The internal inspector who led me into the utility closet probably falsified records of where I was during that time. Even if he suspects something, Vice-Director Ke wouldn’t think of me.”
“If you believe that, then I’m sure it is so,” Caichun said in relief. “But now, you have to become Investigator Li’s successor. If you do not, then you’ll become a target for elimination. You know that, right?”
“Don’t worry about that, I don’t think there will be any problems. Investigator Li is only ‘considering’ other candidates because it’s still too early to declare me as his successor,” Chen Jian said confidently. “Out of everyone, I’m the only person that he acknowledges.”
Caichun nodded, relaxing a little.
“Caichun, what do you think about the investigation so far? I don’t know much about Archduke Wei and Archduke Qi, but would they really be behind this? What good would killing Minister Zhao do them? He was still a kid when the matter with the Sixth Prince happened,” Chen Jian asked.
Caichun sighed. “From my understanding, people’s actions are not always motivated by reason alone. Emotions, desires, urges, all of these may fester and drive plans forward, regardless of whether they’re doing the right thing, or even what best benefits them. It is not necessary that their revenge must burn the one responsible rather than someone they can get their hands on, the kindling of any pile burns just as strong. But that doesn’t seem to be the case here. Archduke Wei and Archduke Qi are already in such a precarious position, even if they wished to move irrationally, their friends and family would restrain them and persuade them otherwise.”
“But they’re the prime suspects right now, is the Bureau wrong?”
“I don’t know,” Caichun said honestly. “Objectively speaking, Archduke Wei might still gain some benefit from killing Minister Zhao, but it would be minimal. In fact, it might even backfire, and surely he would’ve thought of that as well.”
At Chen Jian’s confused frown, Caichun patiently began to elaborate. “Archduke Wei’s daughter Princess Chengxia will be marrying into the Khaganate, where she is highly unlikely to return. Even if her husband dies, she will be married again to one of his relatives. She’ll be all alone in a foreign land, save for her serving maids, but even those who follow her into the Khaganate will largely be sent by the palace, so she can’t fully trust them either. Archduke Wei dotes on Princess Chengxia, how could he possibly be fine with that?”
“Then why did the Third Prince recommend Princess Chengxia?” Chen Jian asked. “I thought he was trying to curry favor with the Archdukes.”
“Princess Chengxia is known for her fierce personality, if you had to think of someone who could survive alone in a hostile environment, among the princesses there is not a second person who could match her. In any case, Archduke Wei shares a mother with Archduke Qi, so his favor doesn’t bear much political weight. He’s someone that the Third Prince can afford to offend,” Caichun explained.
“Huh,” Chen Jian muttered. “I guess that makes sense. But even then, killing Minister Zhao won’t stop Chengxia from getting married. We’ve been marrying princesses into other countries since the Han Dynasty. Why would this be any different?”
“That’s why it’s very unlikely,” Caichun agreed. “But then again, there would be no benefit that Archduke Qi and Archduke Wei can gain from killing Minister Zhao, at least not at the moment. Unless they were aiming at completely throwing the court into chaos, in which case they would have succeeded brilliantly. That might give them some room for maneuver, there’s a much larger chance that the Emperor would take the opportunity to eradicate them during the turbulence.”
“So it’s not them,” Chen Jian said uncertainly.
“What do you think?” Caichun asked.
Chen Jian wavered, looking down at the bowl of noodles before him.
“I’m not sure. I feel like…I just think that it’s more complicated than a straightforward yes or no, but I don’t really get it either,” Chen Jian replied.
Caichun nodded. “I don’t doubt that the situation is much more convoluted than the Bureau will be able to uncover, no wonder Investigator Li wanted me to notify Minister Zhao to be wary of the Archdukes. But as for the Bureau’s opinion of Minister Zhao, there’s not much that we can do other than try to curry favor.”
“They don’t like him because he’s talented at politics, but that’s what he relies on to feed himself,” Chen Jian said bluntly. “I don’t think trying to curry favor with them would help.”
Caichun sighed. “The smarter a person is, the more they prefer simple and pure-hearted individuals. It must bother them that they couldn’t sense his abilities earlier.”
“Most talented people who could hide their abilities don’t have a direct channel to the palace,” Chen Jian pointed out. “He’s gone from being practically unnoticeable to someone that the Bureau has to answer to, even if he’s technically ranked lower than the Director, of course, they would be wary of him. I don’t think he’d gain any ground in the short run, even if he kept trying to flatter them. If anything, it might make them more suspicious.”
“It can’t be helped,” Caichun murmured.
“Caichun, I think you should leave the service of Minister Zhao,” Chen Jian said after a short pause.
Caichun frowned. “Why? He’s only just gained the backing of Imperial Edict Bearer Wei, and he’s solidifying his power in court. His career should be like a sun rising from the east, why do you say such a thing?”
Chen Jian shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “It’s just a feeling, this is going to get very dangerous. It can result in astonishing success or devastating failure, but the chances are almost fifty-fifty and hinge on decisions that can easily go in either direction. It’s just too much of a gamble. I don’t want you involved in all this.”
At Caichun’s frown, Chen Jian shrank back.
“I know this is a difficult chance to obtain for you, but I’m worried,” Chen Jian said quietly. “I followed Qu Boyong today, and that man is no servant.”
“That’s true, he is rather talented,” Caichun noted. “If he hadn’t insulted the Minister like this, he would have received a position sooner or later. But what does this have to do with my job?”
Chen Jian shook his head. “That’s not what I mean, Caichun. That guy, Qu Boyong, definitely isn’t from a normal background. I don’t know if he’s from a family of organized crime, or if he’s secretly a noble, but I think he has a man in the Imperial Investigator’s Bureau.”
Caichun looked at him in shock. “Qu Boyong does? But that means–”
“It means Minister Zhao let a guy like that stay at his side for months, trusting him with important secrets, and now that man is certain to weaponize that,” Chen Jian said somberly. “I saw Qu Boyong being pursued by assassins today, and he showed far more skill than a normal guard should have. Yet he isn’t known for being martially skilled. He’s hiding his abilities, just as Minister Zhao was. Whatever this Qu Boyong is aiming for, it does not bode well for Minister Zhao, nor for you.”
Caichun lowered her head. “Do you think Minister Zhao will be able to deal with him?”
Chen Jian sighed “As I said, it can go either way, with equal likelihood. You know how bloody things can get when it comes to political power, it’s better to be safe than sorry. As long as the green mountain remains, there will be no shortage of firewood. You’ve already become an official once, and you can do it again. Just not under Minister Zhao.”
Caichun mulled it over, staring blankly at the table for a bit.
“I’m sorry, brother. I can’t agree to that,” she finally replied. “Minister Zhao has bestowed upon me honor and opportunity far beyond what a second woman throughout this entire empire could claim to. It is thanks to his protection that I have gained the respect of my peers, and now this chance for promotion. As someone who has received this degree of favor, if I should run at the first hint of danger, it would be an excuse for everyone else to abandon him as well should there be the slightest problem. I can’t make a decision that is inhumane and disloyal to one who has treated me so well.”
“I am also sorry towards Minister Zhao,” Chen Jian argued. “But these men are all fighting for their own power out of selfish motivations, why should you join them in digging your grave?”
“Brother, I also have my own ambitions,” Caichun interjected. “Why should I not take power where I can find it?”
Chen Jian blinked in surprise. “Oh.” His brow creased as he realized the missing piece. "I see."
“Remember how grandfather used to say that if I had been born a man, I most certainly would have brought glory to the ancestors and achieved great things? If I hadn’t run off to join you here and stayed in Shandong instead, I would probably have a child already. I don’t want to be a wife, I want to be an official. Which one of my colleagues am I less talented than? I want power as much as they do, brother, and I’m grateful to Minister Zhao for giving me this chance,” Caichun said patiently. “Now that you’ve warned me, I’ll have to take more care in strategizing for the Minister and in advising him, but there’s no reason for me to step away from what I’ve finally managed to grasp.”
“I thought you were happy as a scribe,” Chen Jian said weakly.
“I was. It was much better than any of the other options, and a rather prestigious one too. It’s just that this is even better, of course, I’d choose to be an official over being a scribe,” Caichun said.
“Oh.” Chen Jian said again, still feeling a little stunned.
Caichun anxiously watched her brother’s face for a reaction. Their family hailed from one of the most traditionalist areas of their province, where it was considered unvirtuous and outrageous for a woman to desire power and titles. She doubted Chen Jian would feel that way, but she couldn't help but feel uneasy.
“Well, if that’s what you want, then I’ll support you. As long as Minister Zhao does well, you’ll also do well, so I guess we have to make sure he doesn’t fall from grace,” Chen Jian finally said after a moment of mulling it over.
“Really?” Caichun asked, lighting up with joy and relief.
“Of course, my little sister wants to be an official, then she should be an official. If I’d known it was that important to you, I wouldn’t have suggested otherwise,” Chen Jian assured her. “This way, our generation will have one in martial service and one in civil service, isn’t that a good arrangement?”
Caichun’s face broke into a smile, and she scurried around the table to throw her arms around Chen Jian. He hugged her back, fondly patting her head as though she were still a child.
“Alright, now tell me more about Qu Boyong,” Caichun said, slipping back into strategist mode as she stepped away. Used to his sister’s ability to switch gears at a moment’s notice, Chen Jian willingly obliged.
Cultural Notes
有眼不识泰山/Having eyes but not recognizing the Tai Mountain: An Ancient Chinese proverb meaning to not recognize someone/something important.
Levirate marriage: Also known as widow inheritance, it refers to a type of marriage where a man is obliged to marry the widow of his deceased brother in order to continue providing for her livelihood. Chinese princesses who were married into nomadic tribes were often expected, if not outright ordered by their Emperors, to marry again rather than return to their homeland (as a way of extending the marriage alliance).
和亲/Heqin policy: An Ancient Chinese diplomatic measure where princesses were married into other nations, usually nomadic nations that the dynasty had trouble dealing with. These marriages were used to prevent military hostilities, even though they usually served as a deterrence at best.
如日东升/Like a sun rising from the east: An Ancient Chinese proverb meaning to be on the rise.
留得青山在，不怕没柴烧/As long as the green mountain remains, there will be no shortage of firewood: An Ancient Chinese proverb meaning that as long as you manage to survive, you can always find another chance.
不仁不义/Inhumane and disloyal: An Ancient Chinese proverb. Humaneness and loyalty are among the five most treasured virtues of Confucianism, so to be lacking would be rather disdained.
一文一武/One scholar one warrior: One of the most ideal arrangements you can have in a family.
