Chapter Nine: Infernal Affairs (Revised Edition)

Pei An was dead, his corpse hacked into an unrecognizable, bloody mess.

The one who had wielded the blade was, of course, Duoduo. The young girl, wild-eyed, had swung and chopped with her saber in a frenzy. Zheng Yanqing stood by and did nothing to stop her.

He understood: this madness was born of terror, a desperate need to vent after the shock.

If she wasn’t allowed to release her fear, who could say what the consequences might be?

When at last her fury was spent, Zheng Yanqing picked up Pei An’s clothing from the floor and draped it around Duoduo’s shoulders. But she immediately flung it aside, curling up at the edge of the bed, sobbing softly.

“Duoduo, put something on or you’ll catch cold.”

Yanqing took off his own robe and placed it gently over her. This time, she didn’t throw it away but clutched the collar with both hands. Her pale cheeks were streaked with tears; the delicate beauty of her grief was wholly unlike her usual spirited self. Yanqing’s heart ached. He couldn’t help but step forward and embrace her tightly.

He had hoped to use the Kitchen God festival as a cover to search for evidence.

But when the rites were over, Yanqing noticed that Duoduo had not returned, and Pei An was nowhere to be seen. Zheng Chang and Wang Jingwen were present, but Pei An had disappeared… A sense of dread seized Yanqing, and he found an excuse to investigate.

Had he come any later, Duoduo’s innocence would have been lost.

People might think the girl was loud and careless, never taking anything to heart, but in truth, she was fragile.

“Don’t be afraid, Duoduo. The villain is dead.”

Holding her close, Yanqing felt nothing but protectiveness. In his eyes, Duoduo was still a child. He had no perverse inclinations, nor was he a lecherous old man; all he felt was heartache. Yet when he saw Pei An tormenting Duoduo earlier, a deep rage had burned within him.

After a while, Duoduo finally calmed down.

“Yanqing, I found the evidence.”

It was as if, in that instant, Duoduo had grown up. No longer did she call him “little scholar”; she addressed him by name.

From Pei An’s clothes, Zheng Yanqing retrieved a small booklet and a bronze tiger-head token.

The token bore the inscription “Bingzhou Cao Pei.” It was likely Pei An’s badge of office—Bingzhou indicating the region, “Cao” the official position. But what post exactly? Yanqing was unsure; there were many kinds of “Cao” officials, making it hard to distinguish.

The booklet, meanwhile, was filled with names: members of the Cui family, the Lu family, and the Zheng family… Most of the names Yanqing did not recognize. But the three characters for Zheng Shanyuan shocked him. Wasn’t Zheng Shanyuan the son of Zheng Yi, clan leader of the Zhengs of Xingyang?

During the former struggle for the Crown Prince’s seat, Zheng Shanyuan had chosen the wrong side.

Yet Emperor Wen of Sui had not punished him; instead, both his brothers had been granted titles.

So why was Zheng Shanyuan involved again this time?

The man seemed incapable of choosing the right allegiance—he had erred once more!

“Yanqing, what do we do now?”

Seeing the chaos of the room, the mutilated body, and the blood pooled on the floor, Duoduo grew anxious.

What was meant to be a simple investigation had ended in death. This was no trivial matter.

How could they possibly cover up such a scandal?

Though Duoduo was usually clever and quick-witted, she was at a loss now.

In truth, Yanqing was pondering the same question.

If all he had found was the roster, there would be many ways to handle the matter without exposing himself to public scrutiny. But now there was a corpse, and the dead man was confirmed to be a follower of Prince Han Yang Liang. Matters had grown complicated.

Wang Jingwen was outside; once he returned and saw this scene, he would immediately grasp what had happened. If he fled back to Taiyuan, even the roster would be useless…

The urgent task was to detain both Wang Jingwen and Zheng Chang. But by doing so, Yanqing would be thrust into the eye of the storm—a fate he had never wished for.

After long consideration, Yanqing gritted his teeth and made up his mind.

If he himself were implicated, having Zheng Shian’s support would spare him many troubles.

But if Duoduo were to be dragged in as well—she and her mother living incognito—she might face mortal danger.

He had no real friends in this world.

Duoduo was the only one.

No matter her original motives for teaching him the Dragon Subduing Skill, the bond they had formed over the years could not be erased. No—he could not let Madam Xu and the others be implicated. If worst came to worst, he would bear it all himself.

“Duoduo, go back at once. Act as if nothing happened.”

“Ah?”

“I’ll take care of everything.”

Zheng Yanqing smiled faintly and spoke in a soft voice, “It’s only a killing—nothing too serious. I’m sure the master won’t blame me.”

“But…”

“Enough. Don’t argue. Go home and be good.”

Unconsciously, Yanqing had taken on a commanding tone. As he spoke, he picked up the green-beaded dagger from the floor and pressed it into Duoduo’s hand. Though he was younger than her by a few years, when he grew serious, Duoduo felt a nameless fear. She dared not protest further, merely nodded, and slipped quietly from the room.

Yanqing took two deep breaths to steady himself.

He grabbed the small saber and advanced, hacking at Pei An’s corpse several more times.

Only then did he pick up the badge and the roster and leave the room.

At that moment, Anyuan Hall was in lively uproar.

A rare gathering had brought everyone together for a night of merriment.

Zheng Dashi seemed in high spirits, seated at the head of the main hall, toasting his kin. Zheng Chang was at his right hand, with Wang Jingwen just behind him, both appearing quite at ease. Zheng Dashi’s face was flushed with drink.

Zheng Shian hurried in from outside, striding briskly to Zheng Dashi’s side.

His expression was tense as he whispered in Zheng Dashi’s ear.

At first, Zheng Dashi smiled, but then his face darkened abruptly; he nodded slightly.

“Shian, go and make the arrangements.”

“It’s done.”

Only then did Zheng Dashi rise and address the guests, “Friends and kinsmen, a small matter has arisen in the house. Please excuse me for a moment.

Ah, Zheng Chang, since you’re soon to take over the family’s affairs, you should come along.”

Zheng Chang, in the midst of his revelry, was less than willing.

“Brother, what’s happened?”

“Oh, Renji has sent someone from Chang’an—an urgent matter to discuss.”

Hearing this, Zheng Chang knew he could not refuse and got up.

“Old Wang, come along with me.”

As Zheng Chang’s confidant, Wang Jingwen’s presence was only natural. Zheng Dashi frowned slightly, as if displeased, but did not object. With Zheng Shian, he strode out of the main hall, Zheng Chang and Wang Jingwen following close behind.

They passed through the covered corridor and soon reached the rear courtyard.

In the distance, they saw Zheng Yanqing kneeling on the steps outside the back hall, his head bowed, bloodstains on his clothes—a wretched sight.

“Brother, what’s happened to Yanqing?”

“It’s nothing, he made a mistake… Sometimes, making a mistake isn’t so frightening; what’s truly frightening is to err and not realize it.”

Zheng Dashi didn’t even glance at Yanqing, but walked straight into the back hall.

Zheng Chang was bewildered, unable to grasp the meaning behind Zheng Dashi’s words.

Wang Jingwen, on the other hand, sensed that something was amiss. He looked back and saw Zheng Shian and a group of family warriors following, blocking any escape.

Inside the back hall, a naked corpse lay on the floor.

At first, Zheng Chang didn’t recognize the body, only found it odd. No wonder—the corpse had been so savagely mutilated by Zheng Yanqing and Duoduo that its features were beyond recognition, and with no clothing, even less so. Zheng Chang failed to identify it; Wang Jingwen, though uneasy, did not recognize it as Pei An either.

“Brother, do you know who this is?”

Seated, Zheng Dashi looked at Zheng Chang with a smile. Zheng Shian led two rows of armed men inside, lining up on either side.

The wine had left Zheng Chang’s system—he realized the atmosphere was ominous.

Still, he feigned composure, shaking his head gently. “I don’t know. Didn’t you say someone from Renji came? What’s the meaning of this corpse?”

“Alas…”

Zheng Dashi sighed, ignoring Zheng Chang, and fixed his gaze on Wang Jingwen. “My brother here may seem dull-witted, but when it matters most, he always seems to lose his head. He doesn’t recognize the corpse, but do you, sir? Or should I call you by your true name—Wang Kui? Is that correct, Master Wang Kui?”

Wang Jingwen’s face turned ashen.

“You’re not from Yangzhou, are you? Though you speak with a Yangzhou accent, that’s surely because you were born there. After Wang Sengbian was killed by Chen Baxian, his descendants were taken in by the Wang clan of Taiyuan.

Wang Sengbian had two sons. The younger, Wang Kui, served as an academic at the Imperial Academy but was later exiled to Lingnan, after which he vanished. But I know that Wang Kui later became an adviser to Prince Han, trusted as his chief strategist. I’ve always wondered how a mere steward could gain access to the Viewing Pavilion, drinking with Cui Jingmao as an equal?

When I made some inquiries, I learned that the steward my brother brought home was none other than the famous Master of Learning himself. My apologies for not recognizing you sooner.”

Wang Kui, the second son of Wang Sengbian, had been a lover of adventure in youth. After twenty, he took up scholarship, mastered the Five Classics, delighted in the teachings of the philosophers, and especially in obscure histories and anecdotes. Thus, the world called him Master of Learning.

Wang Kui, faced with the truth, composed himself.

“Since you’ve uncovered my identity, I gather you’ve made your decision. I had hoped Second Master’s presence would shield me from your attention, but I see… So, this corpse must be old Pei.”

Zheng Dashi tossed the badge to the floor. “Bingzhou Cao Pei?”

“That is Pei Wen’an, military secretary of the Bingzhou Governor’s Office,” Wang Kui replied without hesitation.

Zheng Dashi sighed. “Master Wang, do you think the Crown Prince is unaware of Prince Han’s activities? Though Duke Yue rarely involves himself in politics, every move Prince Han makes is known to him. At the start of the year, Prince Han requested permission to recruit troops in Taiyuan, and Duke Yue did not object. Not for ignorance, but because he had his own plan.”

Duke Yue was Yang Su.

Earlier that year, some accused Yang Su of overreaching, causing Emperor Wen to distance himself and diminish his power. But Yang Su was unconcerned—outwardly indifferent, inwardly growing closer to the Crown Prince.

Wang Kui, proud as he was, realized he was powerless against Yang Su.

He let out a bitter laugh. “Wen’an is dead. I suppose you’ve already informed Duke Yue. What will you do with me?”

“Rest assured, Duke Yue has no wish to see you dead.”

Zheng Dashi ignored Zheng Chang and said gravely, “On the contrary, Duke Yue values your talents. He instructed me to handle matters as I see fit. Master Wang, I am on good terms with your elder brother. I won’t make things difficult for you. But since you are here, you can’t leave. My brother’s family is still in Taiyuan—I must consider their safety… So, you’ll stay here as if nothing happened. How does that sound?”

“You want me to…”

“Heh. You know, I know, and all present are my trusted men. You needn’t fear any leaks.

Outwardly, my second brother will continue to oversee Anyuan Hall. As for you—just send a letter home from time to time.”

Wang Kui’s face twitched. He fell silent.

He understood Zheng Dashi’s meaning: a ruse of internal discord.

“Master Wang, you must realize one thing.

If I don’t shield you, and Duke Yue reports this to the court, do you think His Majesty would tolerate Prince Han’s conspiracies? The emperor may not kill his own son, but you, your brother, your kin, even the entire Wang clan of Taiyuan, would be caught in the disaster.”

Zheng Dashi’s mild tone made Wang Kui break out in cold sweat.

After a long pause, Wang Kui sighed. “Since Zheng Dashi honors me so highly, how can I refuse?”

For men of noble birth, nothing was more terrifying than bringing ruin upon the family.

So long as the clan survived, there was always hope; but if, as Zheng Dashi warned, all were implicated, there would be no chance of revival. The Wang family, though not small, had long since declined—no match for the power of the Zhengs.

Zheng Dashi smiled faintly and said to Zheng Shian, “Shian, see that Master Wang is well settled—do not slight him.”

With that, he waved for Zheng Chang to sit down.

“You may sit aside and keep silent.

From this day forth, you’ll keep me company—talk, drink. In name, you still oversee family affairs, but you’re not to intervene in anything. In time, I’ll bring your wife and son here to be reunited.”

Zheng Dashi showed little warmth toward Zheng Chang, his tone even cold.

Zheng Chang dared not show the slightest resentment. He slumped to one side, all trace of former vigor gone.

“Send Yanqing in.”

Zheng Dashi flipped through the roster, shook his head with a wry smile, and finally instructed the servants to summon Zheng Yanqing.

This child may have been reckless, but all he did was for the sake of the Zheng family—a talent worth nurturing.