Chapter 15

Even though Xie Ci was filled with deep hatred at this moment, he couldn’t help but be shocked. —One had to know, when the twelve great generals testified back then, it wasn’t possible for all the stationed military commanders to abandon their posts and head to the capital as witnesses. They submitted “evidence,” wrote personal letters, affixed both official and private seals, and then the court dispatched a special envoy to interrogate them in person, who would then return and present the evidence and letters for the review of the Three Departments and the Emperor.

But now, Xie Ci and Gu Wan had discovered that more than two months before the incident with the Xie family, Xie Ci’s eldest cousin and Xun Rongbi himself had already met with trouble, and their seals were being held by someone else!

If this was true, then was that original personal letter forged by Xun Xun?

On the third floor of the tavern, the noise was deafening, the west wind swept past their ears, and Gu Wan and Xie Ci exchanged a glance, his face instantly darkening.

The head courier, Cao Yong, lifted two large wine jars onto the table in the center, slapped open the mud seals, and said curiously, “What’s wrong, brothers Gu?”

Everyone laughed and looked over, chattering away.

The courier team had just finished a delivery and were dining together, joining tables at the tavern.

Cao Yong, the young master of the courier bureau, was the one who recruited Xie Ci and Gu Wan. He greatly valued these two younger brothers, especially Xie Ci; though Xie Ci kept a low profile, Cao Yong was impressed by his handling of several encounters with bandits.

Gu Wan immediately laughed, “We just heard some big news, and everything is fresh and new here in Suzhou for the first time. The Xun Governor’s family has it rough, too.”

She didn’t hide it, instead answering loudly, pulling Xie Ci behind her under the cover of her body. Xie Ci lowered his eyes, concealing the expression in them, while the others continued their lively discussion. Those who had visited last year agreed, saying yes, that’s right.

Gu Wan laughed it off, not probing further. The two moved their table and sat down, letting the topic pass. Gu Wan then asked for a month’s leave: “We’ll go find my relatives tomorrow.”

On this journey north, the two claimed to be brothers born late to elderly parents, who had died abroad, leaving them without kin, and had come to Suzhou to seek out relatives.

Cao Yong quickly asked, “Do you need my help?”

“What’s your relatives’ surname?”

Gu Wan cheerfully lied, “Ma. No need for now, young master. If we can’t find them, we’ll come to you.”

“Alright, if you need money, just say so! Come, drink!”

And so the topic ended. After some consideration, the two decided to keep their names attached for now. Gu Wan smiled and raised a bowl half the size of her head, “Let’s drink, let’s drink.”

…

After drinking, the two parted ways with the courier team.

They walked along the main street; Suzhou was a large and bustling city.

Xie Ci led the way, and the two moved from the west to the east, all the way to the intersection of the eastern and western military districts, along the north-south avenue to its end—the Governor’s Mansion of Suzhou.

This was a lively, long street, the heart of Suzhou. Aside from the central section, which was restricted, the bustling markets at both ends were prosperous.

Last year at the start of the year, the imperial recruitment order was issued. Now, during recruitment season, not only were the ends of the street crowded with people and vendors, but even the Governor’s Mansion was busier than usual, with people and horses coming and going.

Xie Ci and Gu Wan waited for about half an hour, until they saw what they came for.

From the mansion’s main gate, two rows of armored soldiers rushed out, a dozen or so officers mounted their horses and lined up at the entrance, while the guards began driving away vendors and carts, quickly expanding the restricted area and clearing the street.

Shortly after, a young man in reddish armor, about twenty-five or twenty-six, emerged from the Governor’s Mansion. He wore a helmet with three red tassels, a gold-handled silver sword at his waist, took the reins, and mounted an exceptionally fine chestnut horse, surrounded by guards.

The dozen officers immediately followed.

The group galloped toward the Suzhou military camp.

It was but a brief glimpse, and the central avenue soon returned to normal.

Xie Ci stood in place, the afternoon sun dazzling; he stood in the shadow of the eaves, half his face in sunlight, half in darkness. He looked up and said, “What Xun Xun wears is the Suzhou Governor’s sword and insignia.”

And the officers’ respectful welcome was the treatment given only to the top governor in charge of Suzhou’s military and civil affairs.

Judging by the guards and the vendors’ reactions, this had become routine.

Xie Ci lowered his gaze, thinking for a moment. “Let’s go to the relay station!”

…

Xie Ci and Gu Wan hurried outside the city, soon finding a relay station in Guan Town under Suzhou’s jurisdiction.

It was late at night, only the west wind howling. They jumped in through the window and began rummaging for recent copies of proclamations from the Governor’s Mansion.

Relay stations were charged with informing the people and posting proclamations—these were official notices and new regulations issued by the Governor’s Mansion.

Suzhou was on the frontier, often at war with foreign foes; news and changes could come swiftly—orders to pacify the populace after battle, urgent relocations for war, searches for traitors, and so on.

Sometimes, county offices alone couldn’t act quickly enough, so relay stations were added to ensure instant communication.

The Governor’s Mansion’s proclamations were usually drafted by clerks and sealed, but if the order was critical, the governor himself would write it, distributing copies to each relay station for posting.

Gu Wan lit a lamp, and soon they found the annual proclamations in a camphorwood chest.

The top stack was from recent years.

Gu Wan held the lamp, and Xie Ci quickly sifted through the copies—those from the previous year, the year before, and even the first half of last year were all in Xun Rongbi’s vigorous hand.

But after early June, starting from the third, the handwriting changed—clearly another person’s.

It was noticeably leaner, almost like the “Slender Gold” style.

Gu Wan clicked her tongue; this person’s calligraphy was impressive—a genius, not unlike Emperor Huizong of Song.

But their attention was not on calligraphy.

By the dim lamplight, Xie Ci’s gaze was deep as a well. “From this one onward, it’s no longer my uncle’s handwriting.”

Before that, it had always been Xun Rongbi.

Yet after speaking, he pressed his lips tight, his expression even darker.

A sign of his complicated feelings.

Gu Wan sighed as well—it seemed this was indeed true.

They flipped to the end and found the latest copy, in which Xun Xun, in a heavy tone, announced that Xun Rongbi’s illness was grave and he would not last much longer.

In the small relay station, only the sound of the wind could be heard.

At last, Gu Wan rubbed her face. “Let’s settle down somewhere first.”

…

Now things were getting troublesome.

Returning to Suzhou at dawn, Gu Wan found a broker and rented a small courtyard.

The courtyard was modest—one main room, two wings, simple beds and furniture, sunlight shining on the steps. Gu Wan closed the gate.

“So what do we do now?”

She, too, felt it was a thorny problem.

Now it was certain—this was real.

Since last June, Xun Xun had held the seal and authority.

And the timing of Xun Rongbi and Xun Xiao’s troubles was suspiciously coincidental—it was hard not to think of fratricide, imprisoning the father, and seizing power!

This raised a crucial possibility.

Xun Rongbi’s and his son’s incident happened in June, while the “Lantian Treason Case” occurred in August.

In other words, it was highly likely that Xun Xun had been plotting with others for some time, and, in one move, took down his father and brother, usurped their positions, and then framed the Xie family.

After all, envoys could be bribed, personal letters forged—and who could imitate the handwriting of a father better than his own son?

“But,” Xie Ci turned his head, his voice hoarse, “this could also be a trap.”

Gu Wan, of course, understood.

The Xie family had immense prestige in the army, renowned and respected; their standing in the Wei army was much like Yuan Longping’s to modern civilians. If Xun Rongbi wanted to avoid damaging his own reputation, it wasn’t impossible for him to let his son take the blame.

And, coincidentally, the first copy announcing Xun Rongbi’s critical illness came out in early July.

The Xie family was rescued by Xie Ci and Gu Wan at the end of June.

So, it could be a trap.

A scheme within a scheme, waiting for them to walk into the tiger’s jaws.

Alternatively, Xun Xun may have learned of Xie Ci’s prison break and rescue, using his father to set a trap, or perhaps aiming to swiftly tie up loose ends.

After all, filial piety was paramount in this dynasty.

If news of this broke, no matter how skilled, Xun Xun would find it hard to survive politically.

Gu Wan thought the same. “What do you think? Should we go into the Governor’s Mansion?”

If it was true, then Xie Ci had an uncle waiting to be rescued; if successful, their journey in Suzhou would become straightforward.

Their ultimate goal was to clear the Xie family’s name and avenge them—here, they finally had a foothold.

This opportunity might never come again.

Even Gu Wan found it hard to decide.

…

The late autumn wind was cold and dry, carrying a dusty scent. It howled around the eaves and treetops, the moss on the roof tiles shaking.

They were like the little moss itself—not knowing where the storm might come from, or where they might take root.

Xie Ci’s face was grave; no one knew Suzhou better than him. “Xun Rongbi has served as Suzhou Governor and Pinglu Commandery Chief for eight years, overseeing military and civil affairs. Suzhou is a key frontier against the Northern Rong, with forty thousand troops.”

This vast city was Xun family territory, built up over many years.

He was not alone.

As Xie Ci pondered, he heard the sound of a sword sheath turning. He looked over; in the sunlight, the young girl with willow brows and apricot eyes stood up, placing her hand firmly on his shoulder.

“Don’t overthink it.”

“Just ask yourself—is it worth going in?”

Gu Wan tossed her silver sword, considering for a long time, but all the facts were laid out; there was no way to weigh more advantages and disadvantages.

She left it to Xie Ci—he knew the people and the city better, and as for herself, she would risk her life alongside him.

Though she said “risk her life,” Gu Wan wasn’t truly worried—she wasn’t afraid. If trouble came, they would meet it head on; even if it was a trap, they wouldn’t step blindly into the pit, and even if they did, it wasn’t certain they couldn’t get out.

If one has a purpose, one acts; at worst, they’d counter moves as they came.

It was a pity there was no script to follow, but Gu Wan had never relied on that.

Under the half-worn eaves, the girl in faded blue stood by the mottled pillar, and she crisply slapped his shoulder. “Whatever you choose, I’ll support you.”

After all this time together, affection had grown; since they’d come this far, there was nothing more to say.

“Burn incense for your father, then go sleep.”

Amid the shifting light and shadow, her voice was clear, softened a little, full of comfort.

Xie Ci closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. “Alright.”