Chapter 10 - Under the Full Moon
"You absolute terror!" Prince Qin roared, his voice cracking with a mixture of fear and fury. He glared at his son before turning a pleading gaze toward the Prince of Pacification. "Quickly, beg Lord Pingding for his forgiveness!"
But Xin Wen found himself utterly paralyzed. His throat felt as though it had been seared shut by the icy aura radiating from the man before him. Even as his fingertips trembled violently against the cold floor, he did not dare reach out to touch so much as the hem of Bai Jiu’s robe. He remained suspended in that humiliating grip, his face draining of color until it was as pale as wax.
"What need is there for apologies?" Bai Jiu asked, a thin, razor-sharp smile playing on his lips. "The Heir is quite docile—a rarity among the headstrong youths of the capital."
With a casual flick of his wrist, he released his hold. Xin Wen collapsed into a heap on the ground, sliding bonelessly like a discarded puppet. Bai Jiu looked down at him with an expression of amused disdain. "Prince Qin, you are fortunate to have such an obedient son. Pray, do not let the Emperor’s high expectations go to waste."
Prince Qin stammered out a series of frantic affirmations, bowing low as Bai Jiu turned his back on the pathetic scene.
On the journey back to the manor, the interior of the carriage was swathed in a comfortable, velvet silence. Xin Yi opened his mouth, intending to offer his thanks for the intervention, but the words died in his throat. As soon as Bai Jiu stepped into the carriage, he began rubbing his temples with a weary sigh.
"I need a moment of rest," Bai Jiu murmured. Without waiting for a response, he leaned over and pillowed his head on Xin Yi’s lap, closing his eyes in a gesture of rare vulnerability.
Xin Yi’s breath hitched. He sat perfectly still, his muscles tensing then slowly relaxing as he looked down at the man resting against him. Even in sleep, the lingering traces of violence and cold authority hadn't entirely vanished from the space between Bai Jiu’s brows. As the carriage began to sway and roll forward, Bai Jiu’s hand suddenly moved with unerring precision, capturing Xin Yi’s hand. He gave the younger man’s fingertips a gentle, grounding squeeze before guiding them to his own forehead.
Understanding the silent request, Xin Yi began to massage Bai Jiu’s temples with soft, rhythmic motions. Under his touch, the tension in Bai Jiu’s face gradually dissolved. Xin Yi watched him, a slow, unconscious smile spreading across his own features. He tried to suppress the warmth blooming in his chest, but the sheer joy of the moment was too much to contain. He couldn't help but let out a silent, foolish grin.
"What are you smiling at?" Bai Jiu asked, his voice low and gravelly.
Xin Yi gave a soft hum of acknowledgment. "I just... I feel at peace."
"You are far too easy to please," Bai Jiu said, cracking one eye open to peer at him. "Xin Wen used to be the undisputed tyrant of the capital, but now that there are other heirs in the city, he is no longer such a precious commodity. Since the world has seen fit to call you 'Little Yama,' there is no need for you to be overly polite to such people."
"I certainly won't be," Xin Yi replied, his lips curving. "I only fear I shall constantly leave a mess for you to clean up, My Lord."
Bai Jiu shifted, rolling onto his side to face the interior of the carriage. "It is of no consequence. You may walk as arrogantly as you please; I shall see to the rest."
Xin Yi’s hands faltered for a heartbeat before his smile deepened. However, a shadow of concern flickered in his eyes as he changed the subject. "The matter regarding Registrar He... I fear it may bring trouble to you."
"It wasn't a calculated move; likely a spur-of-the-moment impulse by whoever did it," Bai Jiu replied after a pause. "Do not dwell on it."
The conversation drifted off as both men retreated into their own thoughts, the carriage rocking them through the dark streets until they reached the manor.
That night, as Xin Yi prepared for bed, he carefully folded the robes Bai Jiu had lent him. As he turned the collar inward, his eyes caught a faint, delicate embroidery: the characters for *Jingyuan*. He stared at the name for a long time, searching his memory for where he might have heard it before, but found nothing. Eventually, he succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a dreamless sleep.
The next morning, Xin Yi was awakened by the high-pitched, frantic whimpering of a puppy. He hurried to the door and looked out into the courtyard. There stood Old Qu, feeding a slender, jet-black hound. The little creature was bursting with energy; the moment it saw Xin Yi, it bolted toward him, wagging its tail with such vigor its entire body shook.
Delighted, Xin Yi crouched down and rubbed the pup’s head. "Does Old Qu enjoy raising dogs as well?"
Old Qu simply chuckled. "This old servant did not bring this animal here. This is a gift for the young Prince."
Xin Yi immediately understood who the benefactor was. He scooped the puppy into his arms, feeling its warm heartbeat against his chest. "Did His Lordship give it a name?"
"He is waiting for you to provide one."
Xin Yi played with the dog for a moment, watching its bright eyes. "Then... let's call him Chichi. It will sound grand when he goes hunting alongside Chiye in the future."
Old Qu laughed. As they were talking, Bai Jiu appeared, draped in a deep-bordered silk robe that flowed around him like liquid shadow. Old Qu bowed and retreated, leaving the two alone.
"You are up early, My Lord," Xin Yi greeted him with a smile.
Bai Jiu gave a noncommittal hum and reached out a hand. Thinking he wanted to pet the dog, Xin Yi held the puppy out toward him. Instead, Bai Jiu’s hand bypassed the animal entirely, his fingers coming to rest against Xin Yi’s cheek.
"It looks better," Bai Jiu noted, his thumb grazing the skin. "Apply more of the ointment today." Before Xin Yi could process the touch, Bai Jiu withdrew his hand and stepped into the room. "Bring breakfast."
Xin Yi stood by the door, his ears burning with a sudden heat. After washing his hands, he joined Bai Jiu at the low table. As they ate, Xin Yi found himself stealing glances at the man across from him. He couldn't stop thinking about the name on the collar. Finally, he cleared his throat and tested the words softly.
"Jingyuan?"
Bai Jiu didn't react. His eyelids didn't even flicker as he continued his meal. Xin Yi lowered his head, feeling a bit foolish, and went back to his porridge. After a long silence, Bai Jiu spoke in a slow, deliberate tone.
"What is it?"
Xin Yi smiled. " *Jing* for solemnity, *Yuan* for depth. *Jingyuan*—solemn, respectful, and profoundly vast. It is a magnificent name."
Bai Jiu handed him a peeled egg and wiped his fingers on a silk handkerchief. A faint, inscrutable smile touched his lips. "Your interpretation is poetic, but it was not my master’s original intent." He set the cloth aside. " *Jing* for caution, *Yuan* for silence. *Shenxing Moyu*—to act with prudence and speak with silence. It was meant as a reminder to remain humble, to hold my tongue, and to be a loyal, subservient official."
The room fell silent. Xin Yi didn't know who Bai Jiu’s master had been—such things weren't spoken of in the capital—but the four words 'cautious action, silent speech' sounded less like a blessing and more like a stern warning, or perhaps a shackle.
"Even so..." Xin Yi took a bite of the egg. "I prefer my version. One hears it and immediately thinks of you. I like the sound of it."
"Is that so?" Bai Jiu murmured. "Let me hear you say it again."
"Jingyuan." When Bai Jiu didn't acknowledge him, Xin Yi thought he hadn't heard and raised his voice slightly. "Jingyuan."
Bai Jiu sipped his tea. "And how does it feel to say it?"
"It... it feels right."
"Then call me that from now on."
Xin Yi froze. "That might be inappropriate. My Lord is—"
Bai Jiu set his teacup down and looked him straight in the eye. "I said, call me that."
Xin Yi was speechless, his face flushing under that intense gaze. He buried his face in his bowl, his heart hammering against his ribs. *To call him that... yes, it feels very right indeed.*
***
Meanwhile, the mystery of Registrar He’s death remained unsolved. Early that morning, Xie Jingsheng arrived at the Court of Judicial Review. As he pulled up his horse, he spotted He Anchang stepping down from a carriage. Xie Jingsheng flicked his riding crop and maneuvered his mount directly into the other man's path.
"You sobered up quickly," Xie Jingsheng teased, leaning forward in his saddle. "Do you even remember who I am today?"
He Anchang was dressed in his formal official robes, every button fastened with meticulous precision. His face was paler than usual, likely a lingering effect of the previous night's wine. He gave Xie Jingsheng a cold, sweeping glance and attempted to walk past him.
"Hey now." Xie Jingsheng blocked him again, raising an eyebrow. "Your ability to turn a cold shoulder is truly impressive. One night’s sleep and it’s as if the past never happened. Remarkable."
He Anchang looked up at him, his expression utterly indifferent. "Since you know that, why persist in this harassment? The past is gone; to dwell on it is only to invite regret."
Xie Jingsheng let out a sharp laugh. "Fine. You’re very good at this, He Anchang. I didn't realize you could speak the words of a heartless lover so fluently." He leaned down from his horse and blew a playful breath toward He Anchang’s brow. "A pity. Even a heartless man can be a beautiful sight."
Without waiting for a retort, Xie Jingsheng vaulted off his horse, tossed the reins to an attendant, and strode into the building. "After you, Master He!"
He Anchang followed in silence, his face a mask of icy composure.
They were led to the main hall, where Zuo Kaizhi, the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, was waiting. A man in his forties with a commanding presence and piercing eyes, Zuo Kaizhi exuded an aura of natural authority.
"Lord Zuo, I trust you’ve been well," Xie Jingsheng said with a casual bow. Zuo Kaizhi responded with a grunt of disapproval before turning to greet He Anchang with marked politeness. Xie Jingsheng merely shrugged. He was used to Zuo Kaizhi’s disdain from his younger days in the capital; now that he was a high-ranking official in his own right, it didn't bother him.
The three men moved quickly to the morgue. After examining the body, He Anchang asked, "Has a coroner performed an autopsy yet?"
Zuo Kaizhi shook his head. "He was a fifth-rank Registrar, after all. The He family is reluctant to let a coroner’s blade touch him."
He Anchang frowned. He noticed Xie Jingsheng hovering over the body, his hand moving near the corpse’s neck. "What are you doing?"
Xie Jingsheng compared the span of his fingers to the bruises on the neck. "The Capital Guard claimed he was strangled half to death and then held underwater until he drowned. I’m just curious—looking at these marks, how can they be so sure he was forced down? Usually, in such a struggle, one would press down on the back of the head, not the throat."
"If it happened suddenly, the killer might have acted out of panic," Zuo Kaizhi noted. "But he was just a Registrar in the Imperial Clan Court. He dealt with genealogies and titles. What could he possibly have known that would warrant an assassination during a palace banquet?"
"That is exactly why it feels like a crime of opportunity," He Anchang mused. He caught Xie Jingsheng’s eye. "The security was tighter than usual. If this were a long-held grudge, they wouldn't have picked that night. Moreover..." He paused, his voice dropping. "This entire case feels like an attempt to shift blame onto someone else."
It was obvious to everyone. If the investigation hadn't been pushed by both the Left faction and Bai Jiu, Xin Yi would have been the perfect scapegoat. If neither of the major factions was responsible, then the true motive was deeply unsettling. Someone was trying to stir the pot, hoping to profit from the chaos. Neither Zhang Taiyan nor Bai Jiu wanted to start a civil war over a minor official, which was exactly why Xie Jingsheng and He Anchang had to work together—to ensure neither side was being framed.
"Master He makes a valid point," Xie Jingsheng said, rubbing his nose. "But I have another theory."
Despite his personal dislike for Xie Jingsheng’s methods, Zuo Kaizhi respected his intellect. "Let us hear it, then."
"If someone were desperate enough, they might take the risk even when security is tight," Xie Jingsheng explained. "Registrar He was a minor official, yes, but he moved through the palace constantly. He saw the secrets of the nobility. Every royal bloodline in Great Lan passed through his hands for verification. If I were a member of the imperial clan with a secret I needed buried, I would go to great lengths to ensure he never spoke. As for the Imperial Clan Court, it’s a massive bureaucracy; the death of one Registrar wouldn't stop the gears from turning. But a dead official needs a culprit, and a 'Little Yama' makes for a very convenient sacrifice."
Zuo Kaizhi paced the room, his brow furrowed. "It is a sound theory. We cannot prove it was a royal relative yet, but it narrows the field significantly."
"Are there any records of the cases Registrar He was handling before his death?" He Anchang asked. "We should review them."
"This way," Zuo Kaizhi said. "The scrolls are already in the inner hall."
He Anchang immersed himself in the documents, while Xie Jingsheng made a vague excuse and disappeared. He Anchang worked through the day and deep into the night, his eyes growing weary as he sifted through the mountain of paperwork. By the time he had narrowed down a few suspicious files, the candles were flickering out. Exhausted, he slumped over the desk and fell asleep.
Xie Jingsheng returned before dawn, carrying a few more scrolls. He stopped in his tracks when he saw He Anchang asleep at the desk, his head resting on his arms.
A mischievous glint entered Xie Jingsheng’s eyes. He picked up a brush, dipped it in fresh ink, and hovered over He Anchang’s face. After a moment of deliberation, he delicately painted a half-bloomed lotus at the corner of the man’s eye. Usually, a lotus represented purity, but under Xie Jingsheng’s hand, it looked seductive, as if it were growing out of the skin itself.
Xie Jingsheng set the brush down and sat on the edge of the desk, leaning forward to study his handiwork. The more he looked, the more he felt a strange pull.
*Something is wrong with this He Anchang,* he thought. *He’s supposed to be cold and aloof, so why does he look so damn alluring?*
