Jiang Kui coldly said, “Is that so? Your understanding of the word ‘early’ is truly extraordinary.”
Xie Wuyang sighed without responding to her jab. Instead he changed the subject, “Does my lady wife have business with me?”
Jiang Kui went to sit beside him, looking over the letter he was writing – a long reply to the Vice Minister of the Supreme Court. His writing was modest yet courteous, the calligraphy full and fluid.
“The Vice Minister is an acquaintance of mine,” he explained. “I’ve already made arrangements for this afternoon. We’ll go to the Supreme Court prison where you’ll pose as an observing military officer accompanying me.”
Jiang Kui blinked. She simply listened as he continued, “I knew my lady must really want to see imprisoned family so I made early preparations a few days ago.”
His explanation was perfectly reasonable. Jiang Kui didn’t argue further, only asking, “I’ve been away from the Eastern Palace for over a day yet you have nothing to ask me?”
“As I’ve said before, whatever my lady wants to do or see, I won’t interfere,” Xie Wuyang placidly replied.
“Very well.” Jiang Kui nodded.
She called over Secretary Gu and had him bring piles of documents for review, setting up a writing desk behind Xie Wuyang’s back.
Without another word exchanged, the two busied themselves back-to-back. Clear daylight spilled in through the open lozenge windows, flowing over the yellowing scrolls. Amidst the rustling pages and swelling silence within the room…
After the noon meal, the couple went together to the Supreme Court prison. Jiang Kui was dressed as a military officer accompanying Xie Wuyang’s carriage.
Before leaving the Eastern Palace, Jiang Kui had been stuffed into regulation military armor, an enormous black military cloak draped over it all. She was bundled up thick and solid, even looking somewhat taller… and rather silly.
When she walked out in the armor, Xie Wuyang gave her a fleeting glance up and down then discreetly hid the quirk of his lips.
Silently, he took a wooden tray and began cramming things under her clothes – some freshly made spiced cakes, a bag of savory pancakes, a steaming box of dumplings, even a few small flasks of medicinal wine.
They had discussed how prison fare was surely poor so they should take the chance to sneak in some snacks for Jiang Kui’s family during the visit. With the armor being so huge on her, it was perfectly suited to hiding food.
After Xie Wuyang finished cramming everything in, Jiang Kui took a few steps and made a tremendous racket with all the jangling and clattering.
They both fell silent for a beat.
“My lady, walk slower please,” Xie Wuyang gently advised.
“…Don’t look at me,” she grumbled under her breath.
Forced to slow down, she progressed one stiff step at a time like an awkward wooden puppet.
“Of course.” Xie Wuyang dipped his head.
Then he bent down to enter the carriage where he burst into irrepressible laughter inside.
The carriage slowly exited the Eastern Palace, heading due south down the wide palace thoroughfare until leaving the majestic palace citadel to enter the strict grid of the imperial city before finally stopping at the gates of the Supreme Court.
A prison guard led them through dim corridors to the innermost cell, bowing obsequiously before taking his leave.
From the end of the cell came the harsh grating sounds of chains scraping over stone. A thin line of daylight entered through the narrow window, falling on the figure quietly seated behind iron bars – dressed in coarse hemp robes, wasted and gaunt. His pale wrists were bound by thick iron chains that rang heavily with every small shift.
“Eldest brother!” Jiang Kui rushed over anxiously.
“Brother-in-law.” Xie Wuyang held his sleeves over his hands respectfully.
The Vice Minister had only secured them a meeting with one person so they could only see Jiang Kui’s eldest brother, Jiang Luan. Much thinner now, his voluminous robes made him seem even more diminished. Though weariness clung to his refined features, he still bore the gentle, cultivated air of a scholar.
“Eldest brother…” Jiang Kui’s voice quivered. “You’ve grown so thin…”
“I’m fine,” Jiang Luan gave a faint smile. “Little sister, so have you…”
“I haven’t at all,” she insisted with a shake of her head.
Xie Wuyang stepped over to help remove Jiang Kui’s cumbersome armor then adjust her cloak back into place. He brought out the assorted snacks hidden within and passed them through the bars into the cell. But Jiang Luan didn’t eat, only tucking everything away in his robes to take back for their father and brothers.
“Eldest brother, listen closely to me…” Jiang Kui leaned anxiously on the bars, urgently explaining the plan to attack the execution grounds.
Jiang Luan quietly listened to it all without objection, eyes dim, expression peacefully neutral.
Sitting amidst the dried straw and kindling, he remained perfectly composed. Sunlight spilled over his shoulders, picking out his lightly colored silhouette – tall and unyielding as an unbroken lance.
“Eldest brother…” Jiang Kui murmured, head lowered. “After we rescue all of you, let’s eat dumplings and drink wine on the winter solstice, alright?”
Jiang Luan turned to face his little sister. In the presence of his dearest family, she so rarely revealed any vulnerability. Head bowed like a soaked stray cat, she had wasted away these last days. Hidden in the billowing cloak, her face seemed even smaller and paler.
“Alright,” Jiang Luan softly replied, reaching through the bars to stroke her hair. “You’ve worked hard these days.”
Having conveyed her main purpose, she couldn’t hold back a barrage of anxious questions. “You haven’t been tortured have you? How is Father? And Second Brother?”
“All fine,” Jiang Luan gently reassured. “Don’t worry.”
“Please step outside for a moment. I have some words for His Highness,” he added.
Xie Wuyang assisted Jiang Kui in redressing before slowly settling down crosslegged once her footsteps had faded down the corridor. In a low voice, he asked Jiang Luan, “Brother-in-law… how are your wounds?”
Jiang Luan gave a slight shake of his head and pulled back a sleeve, baring a segment of his battered wrist – shocking red amidst raw scars and trauma… Fresh blood.
He had been sitting perfectly upright, for he barely had the strength left to move. The Golden Guard had applied clandestine torture. To protect his father and brothers, he alone endured thrice the punishment. Under those rough robes were layers upon layers of harrowing injuries.
Only now did Xie Wuyang learn of this. He realized Jiang Luan had intentionally concealed it from Jiang Kui.
“My meridians are severed. I’m already crippled,” Jiang Luan murmured. “I can never wield a sword again.”
Not long ago he had been the youngest Major, a single step away from becoming Colonel. In but a few short days he was reduced to such wrecked ruin, never to ride unto war or take to battle again.
Xie Wuyang briefly closed his eyes, mastering the surge of emotion within before asking in a low tone, “Is there anything I can do?”
“Your Highness, storming the execution grounds is too dangerous…” Jiang Luan entreated softly. “Will you not stop my little sister?”
“I know the danger,” Xie Wuyang said as he lowered his gaze. “But I have never stopped her.”
“You’re right about that,” Jiang Luan conceded with a sigh. “She was never one to be caged, always flying free…”
Frowning deeply, he contemplated at length before speaking again. “Your Highness… I have an inappropriate request.”
“Please go ahead, Brother,” Xie Wuyang inclined his head.
Jiang Luan neatened his robes and beckoned Xie Wuyang closer to the bars. For a long stretch he whispered urgently until finally falling silent.
Xie Wuyang listened with complex emotions stirring in his lowered gaze. After a lengthy pause he murmured, “That is something I can assist you with… however… if this matter truly comes to fruition, then Jiang Duan Shan will vanish from this world.”
Jiang Luan gave a faint smile. “He already has.”
Oblique sunlight slanted onto him as he serenely raised his head towards the drifting clouds beyond the window.
Clouds ever shifting as fate turns.
By the time Jiang Kui returned to Chang Le borough, dusk had fallen and the horizon burned with a conflagration of sunset hues.
“Sir Jiang, come eat dinner!” Little Chen opened the door and invited her in with word that his mother had finished cooking and they were all waiting to dig in.
The dining table inside was set with six place settings. Sitting around were A-Rong, Shen the apothecary, Luo eleven… and counting Jiang Kui and Little Chen, five people total. Jiang Kui paused in surprise. “Isn’t Zhu Zi’an joining?”
“He is,” Shen snorted. “Said he wasn’t in the mood to eat though.”
“I’ll go get him then.” Jiang Kui took out a food basket from the cupboards and added a few steaming pastries inside.
“He’s probably on the roof,” Little Chen helpfully supplied.
Jiang Kui laughed. “He goes on roofs too?”
Carrying the basket, she stepped out the door and craned her head upwards, soon glimpsing a familiar silhouette.
Sunset radiance cascaded like liquid gold onto the bright overhanging eaves. Atop the roof ridge sat a figure with one hand lightly braced amongst the tiles. His other arm rested on a bent knee, casually grasping a small jug of wine.
The stirring wind fluttered his robes. Head tilted to the falling sun, its gilt outline traced the elegant lines of his form.
Jiang Kui leapt over the courtyard a few times until landing atop the same overhang. Bending down she reached out to tap his shoulder, laughing brightly. “Zi’an, what are you doing alone up here?”
He glanced over his shoulder back at her, a flicker of surprise crossing his features as he smiled. “So you came.”
Snatching the jug from his hand, she took a swig and frowned faintly. “A lightweight like you drinking something so strong? Aren’t you worried about falling off the roof when drunk?”
“Wouldn’t mind the fall,” he drawled lazily. “You’d catch me anyway.”
She rolled her eyes, annoyed. “You’re acting weird. Already drunk, aren’t you?”
“Probably am,” he admitted, eyes shut. A light haze of intoxication surrounded him but he was difficult to identify as drunk since he grew exceptionally quiet in his cups. The only sign was a lazy languor to his overall bearing and faintly muddled eyes.
Sitting down beside him, she propped her chin on a palm watching the vibrant horizon. “I did say I would stay here with you yesterday to wait for sunset.”
“Thought you were just saying it casually,” he responded absently, clearly having assumed she wouldn’t actually keep such an offhand statement.
“I always mean what I say,” she huffed indignantly. “So your bad moods always happen while waiting for sunset huh.”
“Not really,” he murmured. “Just thinking about some things.”
“What things?”
“A friend.” His lips quirked in a faint humorless smile. “He has to do something that makes me sad… but I can neither stop him nor refuse his request. Makes me feel so useless.”
Jiang Kui shook her head. “You’re not useless. Have faith that everything you do has meaning.”
“Is that so,” his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Even failures?”
“Even failures,” she asserted with a solemn nod. “Definitely still meaningful.”
“Thank you.” He raised his eyes towards the descending sun. “I feel a little better now.”
“Good, now eat,” she declared in a no-nonsense tone, flipping the basket open. Not bothering with manners, she grabbed a piping hot cherry cake and unceremoniously stuffed it in his mouth, abruptly sealing it shut.
“Mmgh-!” He coughed out, “Tryna’ suffc’me?”
“Sorry,” she said in a small voice, lightly patting his back. “Didn’t mean to.”
In the cool evening breeze, they sat shoulder-to-shoulder nibbling snacks. Dusk bled over the shimmering tiles, occasional flecks of gold spilling onto them.
“Thanks for staying with me,” Zhu Zi’an murmured softly.
Jiang Kui shook her head. “It’s nothing. And thank you too.” She heaved a mournful sigh, “I’ve just felt so sad these days…”
“I know…”
“The winter solstice is almost here.” She stared at the blazing horizon, voice subdued. “It should be a time for family reunion. We get seven days off duty. My father would bring us all to the palace banquet and on the way home we’d stop to buy dumplings…”
“My third brother often sneaks me out to drink. Second brother tags along while eldest brother pretends not to know, never telling Father… You know, secret wine somehow tastes better.”
“We always get roaring drunk on winter solstice until Father reprimands us the next morning… Honestly he’s never that harsh with me, only denying desserts. But third brother has to go hungry, hah! You should see the fuss he kicks up, it’s too funny…”
Her momentary mirth quickly sobered. “This year’s celebration will probably be awful.”
Zi’an said nothing, head lowered.
“Say…” She watched the scarlet horizon intensely. “Think we’ll spend next year’s together?”
“We will,” he murmured. “Things will get better.”
“So you’ll stay with me?” She turned her gaze on him.
He blanked, breath hitching as he fell silent.
Sunset illuminated her gaze, reflecting his visage like a mirror.
His lips parted involuntarily. “I will.”
Table of Contents | Next Chapter
Leave a Reply