Fu Shen closed his eyes, responding neither coldly nor warmly: “No need for your trouble. What brings Sir Yan to my humble residence so late at night?”
Yan Xiaohan walked to the table, picked up the teapot, and poured out half a cup of cold tea, his expression immediately darkening. He glanced at the old servant: “Is this how you serve people?”
Fu Shen said wearily: “Are you not done yet…”
Yan Xiaohan said: “The noble young master of the marquis has a precious body. How can you be so negligent? If you continue to be careless, don’t blame me for reporting to His Majesty and bringing down punishment.”
Fu Shen’s fingers hanging by his side twitched almost imperceptibly.
The old servant knelt down and begged for mercy. Fu Shen, annoyed beyond tolerance, finally spoke: “Enough. Thank you, Sir Yan, for disciplining my servants.”
The words sounded somewhat sarcastic. Yan softened his stance, coldly saying “Bring hot water,” barely restraining himself before letting them go.
Only three people remained in the room. Yan Xiaohan stood by the bed, looking down at him. The bedside lamp was not bright enough, with most of Fu Shen’s face hidden in shadow, making his features appear even more deep and sharp.
He smiled, with insincere sincerity: “The marquis is favored by the emperor. His Majesty heard of your return to the capital and specially commanded me to bring the imperial physician to examine you.”
Fu Shen half-closed his eyes, listlessly saying: “Please thank His Majesty for his concern. You can go back and report. I’m fine. I’ve already been examined by the Northern Yan military doctor and don’t need to trouble the imperial physicians.”
Rumors in the capital that the Jingning Marquis was stubborn and unyielding were indeed true.
The accompanying guard military doctor, Shen Yice, stepped forward, intending to persuade this stubborn general out of medical compassion. But Yan Xiaohan immediately raised his hand to stop him, signaling him to wait.
“His Majesty is concerned about the marquis’s injuries,” Yan Xiaohan stared directly into Fu Shen’s eyes, speaking slowly: “We came today to set His Majesty’s mind at ease. The Northern Yan military doctor must be highly skilled – I’m not worried about misdiagnosis.”
It’s just that the marquis’s injury is quite serious. Having more doctors examine you can’t hurt. What does the marquis think?”
Fu Shen raised his eyelids and met his gaze.
Yan Xiaohan encountered that cold, iron-like gaze and felt a chill. Moments later, Fu Shen lowered his eyes, casually gathering his scattered long hair, and weakly extended a hand, signaling Yan Xiaohan to help him up: “Since you’re already here… please proceed.
Fu Shen: “Then he can rest assured.”
Yan Xiaohan said without courtesy: “I don’t think so. You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”
Fu Shen looked at him with an expression that said, “You’re being unreasonable again.”
“I still feel like none of this is real,” Yan Xiaohan asked, “Are you sure you haven’t left any backup plan or deliberately spread false information?”
Fu Shen countered: “Why would you think that?”
Yan Xiaohan: “Because you look smart. Looking at your face, you shouldn’t do something so foolish.”
“It’s true,” Fu Shen shook his head, “Overt attacks are easy to dodge, but hidden arrows are hard to guard against. You think I won’t fall for it, but maybe you’re giving me too much credit?”
Yan Xiaohan was surprised by his low self-assessment and was momentarily stunned.
The Jing Ning Marquis and the North Yan Cavalry had become an undefeated myth in many people’s minds, an image so deeply ingrained that even Yan Xiaohan had been misled.
But he was just an ordinary person, without supernatural abilities or iron skin, and his flesh and blood could not withstand a massive stone falling from the sky.
“On the way back to the capital, I chatted with people in a tea shop and heard a folk song spreading in the city: ‘When General Fu is in the North, the capital can rest easy’,” Fu Shen sighed. “It’s laughable. I’ve been in North Yan for seven or eight years, thinking I was making achievements, protecting the borders and people, so arrogant that I almost forgot my own name. In the end, I realized that I not only made the Tatars and Zhe people sleepless, but even that person was disturbed…”
Yan Xiaohan said: “Since you’ve figured it out, why don’t you simply hand over your military power and go home to retire and farm? Wouldn’t being a wealthy idle person be much better than fighting on the battlefield or scheming in the capital?”
“Come on,” Fu Shen scoffed. “Have we just met? Brother Yan, I thought we were beyond such pretenses.”
He spoke softly: “The Tatar barbarians are still ambitious, the Zhe tribe is eyeing us covetously, and many in the court have been blinded by these years of peace. If I leave now, who will take over the North Yan Cavalry? Who will continue to invest in border defense?
When the enemy arrives at the city gates, it’s the innocent people who will suffer…”
“What does that have to do with you?”
Fu Shen suddenly looked up.
Yan Xiaohan coldly said: “The Emperor is wary of you, court officials suspect you, and those foolish people only follow the crowd. Have you done all this, and will anyone remember your kindness? You’re losing your place, yet you still care about the world – isn’t that ironic, General Fu?”
These words were cold, but unexpectedly, Fu Shen did not retort.
Yan Xiaohan looked at his lowered side profile, suddenly aware that the sharp edge Fu Shen once had was gradually dimming.
Worn down by illness, wind and dust, or something else…
They were separated by a distance, but their attitude was more honest than when they were close before. There were indeed differences between Yan Xiaohan and Fu Shen, but far from the rumors of being sworn enemies. They had known each other since youth, and the “deadly rivals” were just a misunderstanding. One held military power, the other was the Emperor’s confidant – being too close would invite suspicion.
Their superficial relationship avoided many troubles.
Correction Report
Yan Xiaohan, skilled in intrigue and unscrupulous, had climbed to his current position by stepping on countless others, unable to understand these “righteous gentlemen” who gained nothing and nearly sacrificed themselves.
They were ultimately not on the same path, each perhaps aware in their hearts that the divergence would come unexpectedly and at such a great cost.
Chapter 5: Plotting
Ying Guo Gong’s Residence.
The autumn wind was cool, but the room was warm and fragrant. Near the window, a low red lacquer table was set with snacks and fruits. A teenage boy was lounging, pretending to study a scroll but not turning a page for a long time. Numerous maidservants stood below, occasionally exchanging glances and gestures. Just as the boy was becoming restless, a young maid ran in, chirping: “Madam is here!”
Everyone’s expression changed, the maids lowering their eyes and standing quietly. The young master stopped fidgeting, quickly straightening up and holding his book to appear studious. When the noble lady in fine clothes entered, she saw this carefully composed scene of diligent study.
Madam Qin, supported by a maidservant, sat on the couch. The young man stood to greet her, calling “Mother” and sitting beside her. Qin’s wife took his hand, reproaching: “It’s getting dark. Why aren’t the lamps lit? Be careful not to damage your eyes.”
The maids immediately lit the lamps and brought fresh tea. The boy said casually: “I was so absorbed, I didn’t notice.”
Why are you here at this time?”
Madam Qin replied: “I was discussing some matters with your third uncle in the front yard and stopped by on my way back. This saves you an extra trip tonight.”
The boy’s eyes rolled: “Is it about my big brother’s matter?”
