Chapter Fifty-Four: Flamboyance

When Jiang Lan saw Xue Mingrui, the moonlight had replaced the sunlight through the iron window. On the table sat a pot of pear-blossom white wine and two cups. Whatever speech Xue Mingrui had prepared caught in his throat; he accepted the cup from Jiang Lan and drained it in one go.

“What, you rascal, you only know how to use good wine to silence me.”

Jiang Lan hastily filled his cup again. “Does it work?”

Xue Mingrui didn’t answer, but handed the empty cup back. Jiang Lan quickly refilled it.

Back and forth, they drank three rounds before relenting.

“Cousin, you know how I can’t stand those bullies on the estate who only bully the weak and fear the strong. I lost my temper and took action, but I swear I didn’t hit him hard enough to kill. I saw that fellow walk home with my own eyes.”

Xue Mingrui flicked away Jiang Lan’s three raised fingers with disdain. “Only you would bother to deal with a lowly servant yourself—should’ve just sent someone else. And swearing oaths, tsk. Look at your scrawny arms and legs, not as strong as me. That Xue Dafu is a burly fatty. Your so-called skills are probably just enough to scratch an itch.”

Jiang Lan touched his nose, thinking to himself: Brother, you’re wrong there. I didn’t use a killing blow, but every strike landed deep. At first he could walk home, but once he lay down, he wouldn’t get out of bed for days.

“Cousin, I think someone set me up.”

Jiang Lan looked to Xue Mingrui, waiting for his answer. Xue Mingrui’s bright eyes regarded him, which puzzled Jiang Lan. “Wasn’t it?”

Xue Mingrui shook his head, patted Jiang Lan’s shoulder, and said with heartfelt sincerity, “You’ve learned from your mistakes, finally seeing where the problem lies.”

“So Cousin knows what happened?”

Xue Mingrui nodded, and Jiang Lan felt his opinion of this handsome youth shift yet again. He used to think his cousin was just a straightforward, upright spendthrift—famous in Jiankang for squandering money on antiques and treasures, yet regarded as the most upright of the notorious wastrels.

Knowing his cousin believed in his “innocence,” Jiang Lan sighed in relief, pressing the wine pot into Xue Mingrui’s hand with gusto. “Pour it yourself!”

Xue Mingrui, delighted by the flattery, was in no mood to let his usually amiable yet rebellious younger cousin off so easily. “Aren’t you curious who wants to harm you?”

Jiang Lan, who had been about to fall into bed, paused, hurriedly poured more wine and tea, secretly thinking: One day, you’ll come begging me for something.

With a sycophantic grin, Jiang Lan patted his chest. “Don’t worry, brother, I’ll keep it coming!”

Xue Mingrui savored the wine and found, indeed, his little cousin poured the best cup. In a good mood, he indulged in a few more, his jade-like face soon tinged with red—he was tipsy.

Jiang Lan dared not let him drink more, not with important matters yet to ask.

“Cousin, who do you think is after me?”

Xue Mingrui, still sober, replied, “The incident with Liu Heng, son of the Minister of Rites, and the eldest son of the Marquis of Yong’an—was that your people’s doing?”

Surprised at first, Jiang Lan thought further. His cousin had called him “Lan,” while the other cousin, the Young Marquis Wang, was just “the eldest son”—the difference was clear.

“You really can’t fool you, cousin.” Jiang Lan admitted defeat; having no subordinates now made things hard to control. Once she got out, she’d rally her own people—these troubles wouldn’t happen again.

Letting a youngster command affairs—how shameful. But after being a ghost for over a hundred thousand years in the demon world, she had learned thick-skinned resilience.

“I helped the Lady Marquis of Yong’an, my aunt, deal with her eldest son, so I know these matters well. If I could find out, so could those protecting Liu Heng, and you were too reckless.”

Seeing Jiang Lan hang her head, Xue Mingrui didn’t press too hard. “Still, if you hadn’t taught Liu Heng a lesson, I would have done it for you in a few days.”

Jiang Lan looked up, puzzled. She had done it for merit—what about her second cousin?

“Last time, outside the Honey Fragrance Pavilion, Liu Heng tried to stab you—I saw it all. I was about to deal with him myself when you beat me to it. Well, it was just more troublesome this way.”

Seeing Xue Mingrui’s tired eyes, Jiang Lan felt guilty. “It was my fault. I didn’t expect Liu Heng’s backers to really target me, disregarding the Duke of Wei’s household and the Empress Dowager’s face. This was my mistake.”

Xue Mingrui sighed. “You guessed right.”

“Hm?” Jiang Lan’s eyes widened, waiting for an explanation.

“There’s someone who delights in stirring trouble—didn’t I warn you before? That person is truly a madman!”

Jiang Lan’s lips twitched. Who had she offended? Was it because she’d bested that fox-eyed young lord at the Spring Residence? Or stood up to his father, Prince Anping, in the palace before?

Was he really so vindictive?

~~~

Elsewhere, in the largest mansion in Jiankang after the imperial palace, a young nobleman in azure brocade and a white jade crown crossed the rear garden and suddenly sneezed.

His attendants were startled.

“Your lordship, are you all right?”

“Should we call the imperial physician?”

“Please take care of yourself, my lord!”

Chen Yu wasn’t alarmed—he suspected he’d become someone’s scapegoat again.

“Where is the second young master now?”

The head eunuch hurried forward, sweating nervously. “The second young master is at the Little Bamboo Retreat.”

Chen Yu nodded, instructing the maids and eunuchs, “Wait here.”

They felt as though they’d been granted amnesty, their gratitude toward the heir rising yet another degree. Truly, the young lord was the gentlest of all. As for the rest—best left unsaid.

Chen Yu made his way through moonlit corridors past tranquil lotus ponds to a bamboo chamber, where from a distance he saw a youth in ice-blue attire kneeling on the terrace, his brows smooth, evidently in high spirits.

A green-robed servant emerged. “My lord.”

Chen Yu nodded, his voice stern and undisguised.

Inside, Chen Yu walked straight to the terrace, removed his shoes, and knelt beside the youth.

“You’re here, brother? Try my new tea.” Chen Shou poured a cup and set it before Chen Yu.

Looking at the clear tea, Chen Yu’s right hand instead produced a narrow strip of paper from his sleeve.

Chen Shou’s hand paused, but the tea didn’t spill.

“So? Is my lord here to reprimand me?”

Chen Yu’s heart clenched, but his face remained severe. “Your past mischief I let pass, but you must leave this person alone. Recall those you placed at his side. You may inquire, but do not interfere.”

“What, after you ruined my plans at the Capital Prefecture and reclaimed the Feather Guards, you want to meddle here too?” Chen Shou set down his cup, anger and hatred flaring in his identical fox eyes. “Or have you taken a fancy to the third daughter of the Jiang family?”

Chen Yu snapped, “I’m speaking of serious matters.”

“Oh? Is my lord angry out of shame?”

“Chen Shou!”

Chen Yu stood, looking at the youth’s stubborn back. He sighed, then spoke earnestly, “Withdraw from this matter. I’ll handle the rest.”

With that, Chen Yu left the Little Bamboo Retreat.

No sooner had he gone than the green-robed servant appeared from nowhere, kneeling three paces away.

“My lord, about the heir of the Duke of Wei…”

Before he could finish, a sharp crack rang out—the young master had overturned the table, splintering it.

~~~

In the Capital Prefecture, Jiang Lan watched the moon climb high. Hearing nothing but steady breathing around her, she opened the spirit pouch at her waist.

A demonic wind surged forth, sending straw all about; Jiang Lan’s head throbbed. Before her spun Chifeng, dressed flamboyantly in a green robe and red pants, barefoot, showing off his new clothes.

“Mortal, what do you think? Bought with your silver!”

Jiang Lan shut her eyes, unwilling to see such a garish sight. What a waste of her hard-earned money—no more handouts in the future.

“Are you healed?”

“Very much so.” To prove it, Chifeng manipulated objects around the room.

Jiang Lan waved her hands. “No need to escape, no need to fight monsters—just transform for me.”

“No!” Chifeng crossed his arms, stubborn and proud. “I am a phoenix—how could I debase myself by turning into a woman? Absolutely not!”

Jiang Lan raised a fist. “What, itching for a beating?”

Moments later, Jiang Lan—now dressed in the gray uniform of a prison attendant—stood outside the cell, giving final instructions to the second figure inside, who slumped drunkenly.

“Stay here and behave, don’t sneak out to play or I’ll kill you when I get back!”

Chifeng waved her off, bored by the mortal’s nagging.

“I know, I know, just go!”

“Be serious!”

“Mmm hmm—”

“And don’t eat all my food!”

After repeated warnings, Chifeng raised his head with indifference. Seeing it was late, Jiang Lan finally set aside her fatherly worries and slipped out of the prison.

No sooner had she left than the other her in the cell grinned broadly, leapt onto the warm bedding, piled all the food before herself, and began, for the first time in over a hundred thousand years, to truly enjoy!

“Glorious!”

Outside the Capital Prefecture, an unremarkable carriage—yet one that made all draw back in deference—pulled to a slow halt. The bold “Gu” character on its side caught every eye. The guards at the gate instantly sobered, rushing to the yamen in such haste that one nearly tripped and fell.