Only Yang Xu admitted to the charges without concealment. The crime of rebellion was unforgivable, and according to the law, he was to be executed by beheading.
After the case files and memorials were submitted, Emperor Yantai, despite his illness, annotated “quartered and exposed” on the sentencing document from the Ministry of Punishment.
Thus, the case of the Jin Wu Wei and the Wanshou Banquet finally came to a close.
The truth of the long-forgotten attack on the Eastern Tartar envoy silently came to light and was quietly covered up with the death of the Chun Yang Taoist priest.
No more words on this matter. That day, Yan Xiaohan finished writing the memorial and hurried home. The first words upon entering were: “Where is the Marquis?”
The maid replied: “In the bedroom. He returned in the afternoon and hasn’t come out since.”
Yan Xiaohan’s heart skipped a beat and he asked: “Is there anything… wrong with him?”
The maid shook her head: “Nothing unusual. He just asked not to be disturbed.”
Yan Xiaohan became more worried.
Normally, after such a huge shock, it would be common for someone to break down, cry, or even contemplate suicide. Even if Fu Shen was made of iron, he couldn’t possibly hide all his emotions without a trace. The calmer he was, the worse it was. Yan Xiaohan would prefer him to cry, make a scene, or even hang himself, fearing that Fu Shen would silently dwell on his sorrow, hurting himself emotionally and physically.
He stood at the bedroom door, prepared to force his way in if refused, and knocked: “Jing Yuan?”
Fu Shen responded quickly: “Come in.”
Yan Xiaohan was stunned, pushing open the door. The room was unlit, dim with twilight. Fu Shen sat by the window, staring blankly at the sunset.
As he approached, Fu Shen turned and asked, “You always enter without knocking. Why are you being so careful today?”
“Hm?” Yan Xiaohan hesitated.
Fu Shen laughed: “Are you being cautious because you’re afraid I’m unhappy, or worried I might do something rash?”
Yan Xiaohan had imagined countless lifeless scenarios, but none had occurred. Fu Shen was indeed reflecting on today’s events, but he was calm, not forcing a smile or feigning composure.
“Sit,” Fu Shen pointed to a nearby round stool. After Yan Xiaohan sat opposite him, he spoke: “Don’t worry about me. Today in the prison, the Chun Yang’s ‘truth’ was shocking, but it’s ultimately a one-sided account with low credibility, requiring further investigation.”
Yan Xiaohan never expected him to be this calm and could hardly believe his ears, suspecting this might be another sign of confusion.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Fu Shen said. “I’m not out of my mind. Brother Yan, after interrogating hundreds of prisoners in the Flying Dragon Guard, do you still believe ‘those about to die speak kindly’?”
“Anyway, I don’t believe it,” he laughed. “Call me cold-blooded if you want. During my years in Yanzhou, I interrogated various people. Some fear death and confess after a scare, but more continue fabricating stories, hoping to drag others to their grave.”
Yan Xiaohan suddenly realized that Fu Shen’s experiences were entirely different from ordinary people. He had been repeatedly thrust into extreme situations, tempered for years on unpredictable battlefields, becoming incredibly resilient and calm in the face of overwhelming waves.
Fu Shen continued calmly analyzing: “It might be true that Yang Xu intentionally delayed reinforcements during the Gu Shan Pass battle, but he wasn’t the main reason affecting the battle’s outcome. I don’t know if the Chun Yang Taoist priest was unaware or deliberately blurring the main points. After my uncle’s death, the person most unable to let go wasn’t me, but Prince Qi. We both analyzed the Gu Shan Pass battle. Even if Yang Xu’s Tangzhou army arrived in time, they couldn’t have saved my uncle, only catching the battle’s end. Moreover, while Yang Xu delayed, he remained within a range that didn’t raise suspicion – at least neither I nor Prince Qi detected anything unusual. If he had been too obvious, Prince Qi would have killed him long ago, not letting him survive until now.”
Qingsha Pass, Mu Boxiu, Bailu Powder, Wanshou Banquet—none of these could have been accomplished by him alone. I always feel there’s a large network in the capital, and the Chun Yang Taoist priest is just a chess piece. The one controlling the pieces is the key.
Fu Shen said, “The Bailu Powder is too sinister. Once it spreads, the consequences would be endless. The Chun Yang Taoist priest even massacred the family of a child who delivered messages for him, and those innocent civilians who died from Bailu Powder. If he was truly from the Northern Yan army and my uncle’s subordinate, this method seems excessively cruel.”
Yan Xiaohan: “…Aren’t you being a bit disrespectful to Master Tai Shan?”
Fu Shen scoffed: “When my father was alive, he often said I and my second uncle were cut from the same cloth of feminine compassion. Do you think he could be merciful?”
Yan Xiaohan fell silent.
After a while, he asked: “If you don’t believe the Chun Yang Taoist priest, why did you personally end his life?”
This problem made Fu Shen Wei stunned, and he then said: “He’s from the Northern Yan Army. If I don’t kill him, am I supposed to wait for him to drag me down?”
Yan Xiaohan suddenly stood up and leaned close, reaching out to pinch his forearm. The sharp pain exploded, and Fu Shen’s muscles instantly tensed, yet he inexplicably did not dodge.
Yan Xiaohan: “Does it hurt?”
Fu Shen was bewildered: “Of course. Why don’t I pinch you and see?”
“It’s good that it hurts,” Yan Xiaohan stood in front of him, slightly spreading his arms in a completely accepting posture. His gaze remained fixed in Fu Shen’s eyes: “Remember, you are a living person, not made of stone.”
Fu Shen was stunned for a moment, his ramrod-straight shoulders finally sagging, then without a word, he slightly leaned forward and buried his face in Yan Xiaohan’s embrace. Those hands gently fell on his back.
How many have been buried in the northern frontier, only to face groundless suspicion,” he murmured, “My uncle died until his last moment, while scoundrels like Yang Xiu still run rampant in the court. Even revenge requires the lives of Northern Yan Army soldiers to fill the gap…”
“Don’t be too sad.” Yan Xiaohan hugged him tightly, speaking softly, “Look, no matter what happens, thousands of Northern Yan Army soldiers stand behind you.”
“—And me.”
Yan Xiaohan always felt that when he poured wine for Fu Shen, his gaze seemed to have a deeper meaning, as if he had picked up money on the road, and that money belonged to Fu Shen.
The wine was mellow and not strong, fragrant and pleasant. Fu Shen drank the entire cup in one gulp, praised “good wine”, and teased, “This wine is rarely seen. Lord Yan, with the official position you hold… you must have received plenty of gifts from your subordinates, right?”
“
Greasing palms and maintaining relationships in official circles was common, especially in a powerful yamen like Feilong Guard. Yan Xiaohan neither avoided nor admitted it, simply saying, “To serve the Marquis, how dare I use ordinary wine? Of course, I’ll choose the best.”
Fu Shen threw a pine nut into his mouth and suddenly said, “The wine is good, but not the best.”
Yan Xiaohan was not as bold, slowly drinking and saying, “I’m eager to hear more.”
Fu Shen gave him a half-smile and glanced sideways: “The best wine I’ve had was in a small town on the northern Yan border. The wine was strong, and the innkeeper’s wife was very nice.”
Yan Xiaohan sourly asked, “Was it the wine that was good, or the innkeeper’s wife?”
Fu Shen: “Old wine, old friends, reminiscing about the past. Wine doesn’t intoxicate; people intoxicate themselves.”
Yan Xiaohan immediately misunderstood: “You have a history with her?”
