Chapter 115: Dispatching the Six Paths Envoys (Part Two)

Yunü leaned against the doorframe, her head tilted, the silk ribbon binding her hair drifting softly. As she watched the scene before her, she knew she should leave, yet she found herself unable to pull away; the faint melancholy and the subtle warmth within the room held her in a deep, unbreakable grip.

Working alongside the members of the "Wordless Tablet" group, she had witnessed their fearless sacrifices. For the sake of this man, these fine, upstanding men would shed their blood and lose their heads without so much as a blink. Searching her own heart, Yunü knew she could do the same. Back when she served Princess Taiping, she had already been captivated by Quan Ce’s character and talent. Yet, when she saw them spill blood with such terrifying precision, exactly as their plans dictated, it truly made her tremble.

Now, seeing this man collapsed in the arms of a beautiful woman, weeping with suppressed emotion, looking utterly fragile, she felt no disdain. Instead, she envied the woman; to be granted his absolute trust was truly a supreme blessing.

With this thought, a faint blush rose to Yunü’s cheeks. She did not shy away, however. Rolling her eyes slightly, she turned and drifted away with a swaying gait, calculating haphazardly in her mind that she must have owed him a great debt in a past life, one that would take many lifetimes to repay. Serving him for three lives would probably be just enough to settle the score.

"Dalaang, I asked Yunü to arrange for people to keep an eye on Fu Youyi. We discovered that his movements are quite suspicious," Quan Ce said, finally raising his head after lying there for a long time. Once his emotions had subsided, he stood up, though he looked somewhat uncomfortable. Ruilai, acting as if nothing were amiss, picked up a handkerchief to wipe his face, speaking directly of serious matters. "He frequently leaves the city alone to head to the White Horse Temple in the western suburbs."

"What made you think to monitor Fu Youyi?" Quan Ce asked, regaining his composure as he spoke. "He is merely a man driven by greed, adept at guessing the Empress's intentions. His trips to the White Horse Temple might just be to pander to her—pretending to convert to Buddhism to curry favor."

"Don't interrupt," Ruilai said, swatting him lightly. "He first attached himself to you, then you impeached him, leading to a feud. Around the time you were imprisoned, he was at the height of his influence—how could I not pay attention? I initially thought he was merely practicing Buddhism, but I remained uneasy, so I used the tactic of 'beating the grass to startle the snake,' deliberately letting him see he was being followed. Fu Youyi immediately took a detour, avoiding the temple and returning to the city."

"Hmm?" Quan Ce frowned. The White Horse Temple was Xue Huaiyi’s territory. His master had recently been busy with health regimens—nourishing his essence and strengthening his body—harboring a wicked ambition to outdo the technical expert Shen Nanmiao. As the General of the Right Guard, he rarely concerned himself with the affairs of his own guard, so he was unlikely to be colluding with Fu Youyi. Even if he were, as the Empress's bedfellow, he could do whatever he wanted openly; there was no need for him to skulk in the shadows.

There was only one explanation: the person meeting Fu Youyi was not from the temple; the White Horse Temple was merely a rendezvous point.

"If he is up to something nefarious, it will likely be to your detriment. You must be careful, Dalaang," Ruilai said, looking up at him with deep worry.

Their eyes met, and Quan Ce felt a sudden pang of guilt. Turning his head away, he whispered, "Don't worry, I will keep a close watch on him."

Ruilai reached out, turned his head back, and raised her willow-leaf eyebrows, saying playfully, "What is this? Dalaang, you were so bold when you said you wanted my heart. You captured me completely, and now that I am entirely yours, you cannot go back on your word, can you?"

Quan Ce was utterly flustered. He looked around, scratching the back of his head, unable to utter a single word.

Ruilai pursed her lips in a hidden smile, her expression suddenly dimming, her voice devoid of interest. "In my heart, Dalaang has always been a man of action, a man of thunder and wind. Do not let me be disappointed."

Hearing this, Quan Ce was even more at a loss, but when he hurriedly turned his head, he caught the glint of mischief in Ruilai’s eyes. Realizing he had been teased, a fire rose in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Ruilai let out a soft "Ah," but did not resist, leaning gently against his shoulder, her fragrance filling the air.

"Your illness back then was the work of the Astrological Bureau. Leading you to Mount Song and designing your fall from the cliff—all of it was intentional," Quan Ce said, deciding that since things had reached this point, hiding the truth would be a deception. He laid out the past events. "The Empress intended to reconcile the Li and Wu clans, and Princess Taiping had a high regard for Uncle Wu..."

"Say no more," Ruilai interrupted. "Do not mention him again. For a man, having multiple wives and concubines is common enough; I do not demand he remain chaste for me. Even if he were to remarry during the mourning period, as long as he could uphold his role as a husband, I would still acknowledge him. But to live so spinelessly, unable to perform in the Princess's bed, yet showing no restraint in wasting his strength on other women—it is truly contemptible."

The people Yunü led were originally from the Princess Taiping’s estate; for them, investigating internal affairs was a simple task.

"Uncle is a member of the Wu clan; he has his own unspeakable difficulties..." Quan Ce whispered, trying to put in a good word for Wu Youji.

Ruilai simply shook her head, refusing to listen. "You wait here. I am going to change. Yunü and I have been practicing a dance these past few days; I will perform it for you."

With that, she glided away. Quan Ce stood rooted to the spot, his head throbbing with pain.

A moment later, Ruilai and Yunü returned, dressed in light, form-fitting attire. Beyond their heroic grace, their elegant figures were faintly visible. They danced and sang, the song being the "Ballad of the Knight-Errant."

Quan Ce sat and watched, applauding, "A masterpiece of song and dance. I only regret that I know nothing of music; if I knew even a little, I wouldn't have to just sit and stare."

Ruilai merely rolled her eyes and went off to bathe and change. Yunü, however, was in no rush; she approached with a smile, full of warmth, to comfort him. "The ways of heaven are imperfect. My master is a man of both literary and martial talent; there must be some flaws, otherwise, how would others manage to live?"

Quan Ce was quite pleased by this flattery and laughed heartily. Yunü stood by his side, tilting her head, her eyes crinkling with a smile.

Upon returning to the Eastern Capital, Luoyang, Quan Ce did not arrange for the members of the "Wordless Tablet" to monitor Fu Youyi. Instead, he went directly to the White Horse Temple to visit Xue Huaiyi. After all, they were master and disciple, and they had always been on close terms; if not now, when else would he use that connection?

Visiting an elder, there was naturally no reason to go empty-handed. He brought bags filled with dried sea cucumbers and oysters from Silla, cordyceps from Tibet, and walnuts from the Western Regions—all items useful for vitality.

It had been some time since they last met, and Xue Huaiyi’s face was ruddy, with heat radiating from his head—he had clearly been over-supplementing. The moment he opened his mouth, a pungent, fishy odor wafted out; it was clear he had been consuming plenty of animal parts. "Hmm, I’ve been feeling a bit out of sorts lately. These light, nourishing gifts are perfect. You have a thoughtful heart, Dalaang."

"Master Xue, I have come to ask a favor," Quan Ce said, having already learned how to deal with Xue Huaiyi. He got straight to the point. "Last time I was detained at the Lijin Gate, I later discovered it was Fu Youyi working in the shadows. I hear he has been visiting the White Horse Temple quite frequently lately. I am worried he is plotting again, and I have to be prepared. I ask for your help, Master."

Xue Huaiyi’s brows arched, a flash of cold light in his eyes. "I have heard of this man. Recently, he has been currying favor with the Empress, doing nothing but sycophantic deeds, and he has been rewarded quite handsomely—more than that boot-licker Shen Nanmiao. Don't worry, I have my own arrangements. Go back and wait for news."

Quan Ce responded clearly and took his leave with a crisp bow.

Only two days later, Quan Ce received a secret letter delivered by a vegetable merchant from the suburbs. He did not open the envelope immediately, quietly digesting his amazement. Whether it was the stealth of the delivery or the speed at which the secrets were gathered, it showed that Xue Huaiyi was not just obsessed with his own vitality; he had quite an operation running in private. He was not to be underestimated.

He tore open the envelope. Under the candlelight, there were only three black characters on the white paper: "Envoy of the Six Paths."

Quan Ce was struck with sudden, intense alarm. His hand trembled, and the candle flame caught the paper. The fire flickered and singed his eyebrows.

The fire was literally burning his eyebrows—truly, the fire was burning his eyebrows.