SBMT Chapter 50

A month had passed since Shen Ziqin signed that black-and-white agreement, and a lot had happened in that time.

 

First, in official matters, the power structure at court had undergone a dramatic shift.

 

The Minister of Rites lost his head, dragging down nine generations of his family; some were exiled, some enslaved. The other implicated officials received various punishments, but at least the Minister of Rites wouldn’t be lonely on the road to the underworld-the Deputy Grand Secretary was going with him.

 

It was said that by the time Emperor Cheng’an spoke his final words to the Deputy Grand Secretary, his anger was gone; he simply said that, in recognition of past service, he would spare the rest of his family.

 

As Shen Ziqin had predicted, with the Deputy Grand Secretary gone, the emperor needed to promote new people. Two new grand secretaries entered the cabinet, and both Chu Zhaoyu and Shen Ziqin took the opportunity to place their own people in other positions. Their allies also took over the work of the upcoming imperial exam, paving the way for the future.

 

In foreign affairs, the Eagle Tribe, unable to clear their name, was forced to make concessions in the trade market to keep the peace. It cost them dearly, and the court gladly accepted.

 

In short, official matters were going very smoothly.

 

As for personal matters, there was good news and bad news.

 

The good news: in this whole month, Chu Zhao hadn’t confessed.

 

The bad news: Shen Ziqin’s policy of reducing alone time hadn’t succeeded.

 

Dongning, that thoughtful little “cotton-padded jacket,” still came to study, but when it came to dinner, he no longer stayed every day-only occasionally, maybe three or four times all month.

 

Dongning, with his earnest little face, would say, “It’s already a great honor to have royal sister-in-law teach me. How could I take up even more of your and royal brother’s time together?”

 

From his perspective, it made perfect sense. If Shen Ziqin argued, Dongning would be shocked: What, do you and royal brother not get along!?

 

Sometimes, children being too considerate isn’t always a blessing for adults.

 

And Shen Ziqin felt that Chu Zhao’s gaze was getting more and more peculiar.

 

It wasn’t his imagination; sometimes he’d catch Chu Zhao stealing glances at him-just the ones he noticed were already numerous, so how many times did it happen when he didn’t notice?

 

The more he thought about it, the more unsettling it was.

 

At first, when caught, Chu Zhao would look away, act awkward for a bit, and then, as if figuring something out, look back again and pretend nothing happened.

 

But after it happened a few more times, Chu Zhao didn’t even bother feeling awkward-he’d just meet Shen Ziqin’s gaze calmly.

 

At that point, Shen Ziqin was the one who had to look away.

 

He was getting a headache, and was very confused.

 

Chu Zhao definitely liked him, no doubt about it, but lately his behavior was strange, as if he was calmly waiting for Shen Ziqin to say something.

 

He couldn’t have misread that.

 

But if he opened his mouth, it would only be to change the subject-no ambiguous atmosphere could escape the little marquis’s righteous suppression. He’d always use official business to crush any hint of romance.

 

So what was Chu Zhao waiting for?

 

Shen Ziqin sighed.

 

“Why are you sighing?”

 

The weather was good today. Shen Ziqin was feeding fish by the pond at Mingyue Pavilion when Chu Zhao walked over and saw him leaning on the railing, sighing.

 

Shen Ziqin immediately sat up straight: “Nothing, just… letting out a breath.”

 

Chu Zhao studied his face, but Shen Ziqin had already hidden his emotions. Seeing nothing amiss, Chu Zhao believed him for once, grabbed a handful of fish food, and chatted while tossing it into the pond.

 

“Lord Bai is leaving the capital soon. We’re planning a farewell dinner for him tomorrow night at Jinxiu Pavilion.”

 

Shen Ziqin: “All right.”

 

Bai Junxing had changed positions, moving from Hanlin Academy lecturer to the Censorate, now serving as a Supervising Censor, and was about to leave the capital for an inspection tour in Yuzhou.

 

Don’t be fooled by the lower rank-this was a position of real power, overseeing officials inside and outside the capital, able to openly submit memorials of impeachment, and holding the fate of many officials in his hands. When traveling, he was often called “the emperor’s inspector,” and local officials would treat him with the utmost respect.

 

If Bai Junxing spent a year in Yuzhou and returned safely, with this experience under his belt, his career would really take off.

 

But this trip to Yuzhou wasn’t so simple.

 

Shen Ziqin tossed some fish food on the water, stirring up ripples as the koi scrambled for it, waves suddenly surging: “Going to Yuzhou is entering a den of danger.”

 

Although a Supervising Censor had great power, in officialdom, who wanted to make trouble for themselves? Some censors took bribes, ate and drank their fill during inspections, got cozy with local officials, put on a show, wrote a flattering report, and called it a perfect trip-why not?

 

But Bai Junxing was going to do real work.

 

The Grand Secretary Wei Changhai’s ancestral home was in Yuzhou, and the current prefect was his protégé. Yuzhou was his stronghold.

 

Yuzhou was fertile, with seven subordinate cities, one of Great Qi’s granaries. Judging by Wei Changhai’s many deeds, it was certainly not clean. The emperor knew this too, but turned a blind eye.

 

After all, while Wei Changhai controlled the Ministry of Revenue, he also fattened the emperor’s private coffers. Alchemy required silver-a lot of it-so the emperor was quite satisfied with his current “treasurer.”

 

Chu Zhao and the others only knew things weren’t clean, but not just how bad Yuzhou had gotten.

 

Shen Ziqin knew.

 

The whole province was riddled with collusion between officials and merchants, and between officials and bandits. The land was fertile, but taxes were crushing; the granaries were full, but the people were penniless and starving, corpses everywhere, refugees in droves.

 

Any uprising was quickly put down, and no one ever made it to the capital to complain. Anyone who tried-whether a commoner or an upright official who refused to go along-never left Yuzhou alive.

 

In the original story, Bai Junxing’s mission was a near-death ordeal. The investigation was extremely difficult. Though the Yuzhou bureaucracy was finally purged and the Grand Secretary’s faction took a heavy blow, Wei Changhai himself escaped with only a half-year’s docked salary.

 

 

It was after this that Wei Changhai, pressured by the situation, turned his sights to military power, framing Chu Zhao and having him imprisoned. Later, Chu Zhao was killed by the Deputy Grand Secretary’s people.

 

But now that the Deputy Grand Secretary was already dead, Shen Ziqin had no intention of giving Wei Changhai any chance.

 

For the Yuzhou case, he would get involved-and make sure Wei Changhai ended up on the executioner’s block, to keep the Deputy Grand Secretary company.

 

Or rather, the former Deputy Grand Secretary.

 

Chu Zhao, unaware of all this, nodded in agreement with Shen Ziqin: “Yuzhou is a tough nut to crack. Even a single wrong word could draw Wei Changhai’s attention.”

 

“But Lord Bai is clever, and with our current position at court, ensuring his safe return from Yuzhou won’t be a problem.”

 

Yuzhou was bound to be dealt with eventually. After Bai Junxing joined the Censorate, he volunteered to go to Yuzhou, and for now, his rank was indeed the most suitable.

 

Shen Ziqin pinched a bit of fish food: “We won’t be seeing Lord Bai for a while. Thinking about it, I’ll really miss him.”

 

He and Bai Junxing, along with Chu Zhaoyu, had built a deep friendship over poetry, literature, and strategy. Not seeing a close friend for a while was genuinely hard.

 

Chu Zhao smiled: “Missing a chess partner?”

 

As he spoke, he watched the fish swaying their tails, then suddenly thought of something and glanced over.

 

He pressed his lips together, then tossed in some fish food and asked, as if casually, “If I ever have to go inspect the border, gone for a month or two… would you miss me too?”

 

Splash!

 

Shen Ziqin’s hand shook, accidentally dumping all the fish food in at once. The fish went wild, splashing everywhere.

 

Here it comes! That seemingly casual but actually loaded question, hovering right at the edge of confession!

 

Although Chu Zhao hadn’t confessed, Shen Ziqin was all too familiar with these lines by now. Whenever Chu Zhao talked like this, there were always little tells.

 

Like pretending to look elsewhere, but actually watching him out of the corner of his eye.

 

At times like these, Shen Ziqin was on high alert.

 

Alert to Chu Zhao-and to his own increasingly unreliable heart.

 

-Chu Zhao says two words, and your heart’s already racing! What’s wrong with you!

 

Shen Ziqin forced himself to stay calm, choosing the safest answer: “Of course I would.”

 

Chu Zhao nodded, his gaze hinting for more: And?

 

Shen Ziqin played dumb, pretending not to get it: What else? That’s it.

 

Chu Zhao watched for a while, but when nothing more came, Shen Ziqin got up to escape: “Your Highness, I think I’ll go rest for a bit. The view’s nice today, and since you have the day off, you should enjoy it.”

 

With that, he left without hesitation. Chu Zhao watched his back, sighed helplessly, and slumped his shoulders, feeling a bit deflated.

 

Strange. The little marquis likes me so much-over the past month, I’ve dropped so many hints. If he just followed his heart, even if he didn’t kick open the door, he should at least thin the window paper a little.

 

But Shen Ziqin always reacted like this-first surprised or flustered, then changing the subject, and like a startled cat, he’d flee in a blink.

 

Chu Zhao couldn’t figure it out. If he likes me, shouldn’t he want to take things further and confess at the right moment?

 

Does he think it’s not the right time yet?

 

Am I still not doing enough?

 

Chu Zhao felt a bit restless-not annoyed, but awkward and, for once in a century, embarrassed.

 

…I haven’t even thought about keeping my distance anymore, Chu Zhao thought in a daze.

 

Maybe he should find time to ask his third brother or Zhou Danmo for advice?

 

Bai Junxing would have been a good choice, but unfortunately, his partner was Zhan Yan. If Chu Zhao asked him for advice, Bai Junxing might mention it in a letter home, and once Zhan Yan found out, all the brothers at the frontier would know.

 

Just imagining that scene made Chu Zhao’s scalp tingle, so he ruled out Bai Junxing.

 

Ah, relationships really are hard.

 

But… they’re also kind of fun, Chu Zhao smiled to himself. As long as the little marquis was by his side, life was interesting.

 

*

 

The next night, in a private room at Jinxiu Pavilion, their close circle gathered.

 

Besides Shen Ziqin, Chu Zhao, the second and third princes, Zhou Danmo was there too.

 

Though Young Master Zhou wasn’t an official, he had wide connections, and his grandfather supported the princes.

 

Apart from Chu Zhaoyu, Shen Ziqin, and Zhou Danmo, who all entered through the main entrance, the others took more unusual routes:

 

Chu Zhao, skilled as he was, avoided prying eyes and climbed in through a window; the third prince, Chu Jinxu, was brought through a window by his guards; Bai Junxing came in disguise, wearing a bamboo hat, and only took it off once inside.

 

With the Yuzhou mission looming, it was best for such a large group to avoid attention.

 

After all, Bai Junxing had already hosted a public farewell banquet for many people-another private dinner under the same pretext might raise suspicions.

 

Jinxiu Pavilion was Chu Jinxu’s turf, and the neighboring rooms were also reserved by their people. Tonight’s conversation was perfectly safe; outsiders would only think the second prince, Prince Qin’s consort, and Young Master Zhou were enjoying wine and poetry.

 

The third prince had the attendants withdraw and said to Shen Ziqin, “I followed your advice and screened everyone in the pavilion. I really did catch two spies-no wonder you’re so sharp, sister-in-law.”

 

Shen Ziqin was modest: “It never hurts to be careful.”

 

The second prince, Chu Zhaoyu, raised his cup: “Junxing, we toast you. Be careful on your journey to Yuzhou.”

 

Bai Junxing lifted his cup: “Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. I won’t let you down.”

 

Shen Ziqin, as usual, drank tea instead of wine.

 

After the opening toast, everyone ate and chatted, refining their plans and sharing a few heartfelt words.

 

No attendants were left in the room. Chu Zhao peeled shrimp by hand, but instead of eating it himself, he put the first piece in Shen Ziqin’s bowl.

 

The others exchanged meaningful glances; the third prince grinned especially broadly, waggling his eyebrows. Shen Ziqin’s jade-white ears turned red again, and he quickly said, “Your Highness, that’s enough, you should eat too.”

 

He reached out to peel a shrimp as well, clearly intending to give it to Chu Zhao in return.

 

 

Chu Zhao moved the plate aside: “Hey, don’t bother. My hands are already wet, I might as well peel them. No need for you to get your hands dirty too.”

 

Shen Ziqin’s hand closed on empty air. The second prince said warmly, “Ziqin, just let him do it.”

 

The third prince chimed in, “Exactly!”

 

Shen Ziqin: …You two really aren’t the least bit considerate of your own brother.

 

Or… have they both noticed that Chu Zhao likes me?

 

Or maybe Chu Zhao already told them?

 

Not impossible.

 

Shen Ziqin instantly felt even more at a loss for what to do with his hands and feet.

 

Stay calm, don’t panic, Shen Ziqin: I can get through this meal simply!

 

If he insisted on peeling shrimp, it would only give them more chances to tease him. Better to steer things back to business.

 

He cleared his throat and said to Bai Junxing, “Yuzhou is the Grand Secretary’s stronghold. Even if you find something, you might not be able to get news out to us. How about this: let’s set a code. If things in Yuzhou become extremely dangerous, just use the code in your letter.”

 

Chu Zhao nodded. “To be safe, that’s necessary. And it can’t be something ordinary-it has to stand out so we recognize it at a glance.”

 

Shen Ziqin thought, That’s easy. Any phrase from modern life would be unique here, but the most classic is still that one.

 

Shen Ziqin said, “Let’s just use this: ‘奇变偶不变，符号看象限’ (Odd changes, even doesn’t; sign depends on the quadrant)-”

 

*Crash! Thud!*

 

Before Shen Ziqin could finish, there was a sudden loud commotion-Chu Zhao’s hand shook, nearly knocking over the plate, and the chair legs banged loudly against the floor.

 

Everyone’s eyes snapped over.

 

Chu Zhao’s half-peeled shrimp had fallen onto the table; he stared at Shen Ziqin, eyes full of disbelief.

 

Shen Ziqin was startled too: “…Is there a problem?”

 

The Prince of Qin, whose hand never trembled after fighting for a day and night with a blade, was now shaking so badly he couldn’t control it, even when making a fist.

 

Shen Ziqin couldn’t help but feel a chill: Had something truly earth-shattering just happened?

 

The others sensed something was off and fell silent. For a moment, the private room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, except for Chu Zhao’s heavy breathing.

 

It was so heavy, it was as if he was sucking all the air out of the room, his chest heaving.

 

Just as Shen Ziqin was about to ask again, Chu Zhao’s rough breathing finally eased a bit. He was clearly struggling to control himself, but not very successfully, because when he spoke, his voice was hoarse beyond recognition.

 

Chu Zhao fixed his eyes on him and rasped, “…‘Sign depends on the quadrant’?”

 

*Clatter!*

 

Now it was Shen Ziqin who nearly dropped his bowl and chopsticks.

 

He could hardly believe his own ears!

 

The others were baffled, watching as Shen Ziqin also started breathing heavily.

 

Bai Junxing grew anxious: The consort’s health isn’t good-he’s not about to faint, is he!?

 

But neither Shen Ziqin nor Chu Zhao spared a glance for anyone else. The two of them, as if no one else existed, began their own conversation.

 

Shen Ziqin, trembling: “The Heavenly King covers the Tiger.”

 

Chu Zhao, hoarse: “The Pagoda suppresses the River Demon.”

 

“How many years is compulsory education?”

 

“Nine where I’m from, though I never went.”

 

“When you came here, did you worry about your cloud storage?”

 

“I know that meme. I’m a good kid-my cloud is all study materials, the proper kind.”

 

Shen Ziqin took a deep breath: “So… you’re a transmigrator.”

 

Chu Zhao exhaled heavily: “So… you are too.”

 

The rest looked at each other: What are they talking about?

 

Shen Ziqin and Chu Zhao locked eyes, both breaking out in a cold sweat:

 

A fellow traveler, right in front of me!?

---

 

(advanced chapters available on kofi)