Chapter Fourteen: Testing the Waters

Twisting and turning through the so-called residence of the distinguished, she was surprised to find that the Commandant lived in such a tranquil place. Kaiming stole glances around her; the two previous times she had exited through the back door, she had only brushed past the edge of these quarters, never daring to enter. Now, boldly stepping inside, her eyes were opened to a new world.

Rows of immaculately kept houses lined the deep courtyard, with black-tiled roofs and whitewashed walls. At the entrance, workers were sweeping up fallen leaves—a world apart from the atmosphere of the training camp.

A male soldier led her into a quiet room. The doors and windows were all painted a soothing brown, lending a sense of calm to the mind. He told her to wait at the door, knocked lightly, and announced, “Commandant, I’ve brought her.”

“Come in,” came a weary voice from within.

The soldier opened the door, gestured for her to enter, then closed it behind her, leaving her alone in the room.

Nervously, Kaiming surveyed her surroundings. The décor was simple yet refined: an ink-wash landscape painting adorned the wall, and a blue-flowered porcelain vase stood on the bookshelf, exuding an air of elegance and dignity. Opposite her, the Commandant reclined on a brown sandalwood chair, his military attire set aside for a plain grey shirt and trousers. His hair was loose about his shoulders; the sharpness of his face and his phoenix eyes were now softened with an unexpected languor.

Kaiming stared, dumbfounded at her superior. Without his uniform, Ji seemed a different person—neither the acrid severity she’d first encountered nor the chilling intimidation she’d felt the second time. Instead, she sensed an odd approachability.

Approachability? The word made her want to gag. Using such a term for Ji felt like a waste, and every time she thought of his name, she struggled to suppress a laugh.

“You’re here,” Ji drawled, sounding like a great goose with broken wings, his former majesty lost. Kaiming averted her wandering gaze, fixing her eyes quickly on her toes. “You… called for me?”

“It’s nothing urgent. I just wanted to have a few words with you.” His tone was mild.

She found it odd—what private matters could the Commandant have to discuss with an ordinary female soldier?

“Don’t be too antagonistic with the men,” he began slowly. “It affects the cohesion of the unit.”

Ah, so it was a lecture after all. He sounded just like a school disciplinarian. She replied dutifully, “Yes, sir.”

“But,” he added, “don’t get too close to them either…”

She almost blurted out “Yes, Deputy Director,” but caught herself and corrected, “Yes, Commandant!”

“Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Look at me.”

“Yes, sir.”

She raised her head and met Ji’s gaze—his eyes were tangled with complex emotions, strange and impenetrable. She quickly looked away, unable to meet them for long.

Ji fell silent, studying her for a while, while she stood there, feeling as though she were being pricked by needles.

“Pour me a glass of water, would you?” he said suddenly.

Accustomed now to his odd commands, Kaiming complied without protest. There was a large jug of warm water ready on the table. She filled an enamel cup awkwardly and set it before him with care.

Ji raised the cup slowly, as if it weighed a thousand pounds. Watching him, Kaiming broke into a cold sweat for him. Halfway up, he suddenly groaned; pain contorted his face, and water sloshed onto his hand as his other hand flew to his chest.

Startled, Kaiming blurted, “What’s wrong? Commandant, are you all right?”

He groaned, his brows knitting tighter and tighter, as though a swarm of insects were gnawing him from within.

Flustered, she stammered, “Why is your chest hurting all of a sudden? Is it your heart? This is bad, you need to go to a hospital! Where’s the phone, the ambulance…”

She stopped herself, realizing with a jolt that her words were out of place in this world.

“It’s nothing serious. Last night I accidentally cut myself on a blade, and someone carelessly kicked me. The wound reopened this morning…”

The words had barely left his lips when cold sweat broke out all over Kaiming. Could the injured man in black from last night have been the Commandant? If he’d gone to such lengths to disguise himself, it must have been a secret mission. Now that she’d stumbled upon the truth and even kicked him, he was bound to hold a grudge—if not silence her outright. Calling her in this morning, making her fetch water, and complaining of chest pain—was it all because he suspected her?

“You should be more careful,” she blurted, forgetting entirely that this was her superior. Her mind was wholly focused on survival. “Last night, I played cards with the vice-captain all night. We were gambling peanuts and dried sweet potato—I kept winning. You should try it, it’s so much fun…”

Ji’s expression turned cold. “Did you not know that gambling is against the rules?”

She snapped back to attention, eyes fixed on her toes again.

“You’re forbidden from eating breakfast and must run twenty laps around the training field as punishment.”

She pulled a woeful face and agreed, though inside she felt as though a heavy stone had been lifted. At least her life was safe—for now.

As she skipped out the door, Ji watched her go and murmured, “What do you think, Young Master?”

At his words, the screen behind the porcelain vase shifted, and out stepped a handsome gentleman with a green jade hairpin. He was tall and graceful, a closed folding fan in his hand, a faint, unmelting smile on his tender cheeks—like a gentle spring breeze.

He stood there with a light, gentle voice: “She’s quite an interesting soldier.”

As soon as Kaiming left the residence, someone clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged her into the roadside bushes. She panicked until she realized it was Su, who hushed her with a finger to his lips. She pulled his hand away and whispered, “What are you doing?”

Lowering his own voice, Su replied, “I saw you being taken here and followed to check on you.”

“What are you worried about? I’m not going to give you away.” She rolled her eyes.

“I’m worried about you!” Su pretended to knock her on the head. “Good intentions get no thanks.”

“Fine, you’re kind. I’m starving—will you buy me a meal?” She rubbed her stomach shamelessly.

“Tell me what happened, and I will.”

“It was just the Commandant, showing concern for the personal lives of us ordinary soldiers,” she said with a smile.

“What nonsense are you talking about?” Su frowned.

Kaiming dropped her playful act and said seriously, “The Commandant is injured.”

Su’s eyes filled with questions. Kaiming remembered that the man in black had already left before Su arrived. She explained briefly, and Su’s frown deepened. “I knew it was him.”

“You knew last night?” Kaiming was astonished. This man really had some abilities.

“No,” Su shook his head. “He’s just a killer from the Dai household—a mere underling.”

“The Commandant is just an underling?” Kaiming gasped. If the one commanding the emperor’s soldiers was only a minion, then the real power behind the scenes must be formidable.

“Stay out of this,” Su warned, glancing around before pulling her quickly down a side path. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Is my life at risk?” Her curiosity was piqued.

Su nodded gravely. Kaiming quickly declared, “Don’t drag me into this. Even under torture, don’t give me away!”

Su looked at her, half amused, half exasperated. “Miss, right now it’s you who’s being interrogated.”

She fell silent, then retorted, “Well, that’s that. Let’s leave it at that!”

Su pursed his lips and said nothing. Kaiming glanced at him, then couldn’t help but ask, “Last night, what did that dead man say to you?”

Su shot her a glare. She quickly waved her hands, “Forget I asked! Don’t answer. People who know too many secrets die young!”

Su couldn’t help but be both angry and amused. “So, do you want to eat or not?”

She nodded immediately, but then wailed, “Oh no, the Commandant punished me with no breakfast and twenty laps. If he sees me slacking off, who knows what punishment will come next?”

“Then you’d better get going!” Su teased.

“Don’t act like you’re uninvolved—this is your fault, too! If you hadn’t dragged me out, I wouldn’t have gotten into this mess!” Kaiming stamped her foot, determined to share the blame.

Su crossed his arms and looked her over. “If you hadn’t drugged my wine and run off on your own, none of this would have happened.”

His retort left her speechless. Recalling the scene of that forced kiss, her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Catching Su’s knowing look, she grew flustered and angry. “Anyway, it’s your fault. You’re punished—save me two buns for lunch, and that’s final!”

She dashed off, leaving Su behind, shaking his head in helpless amusement.

Over the next two days, the surveillance soldiers reported back countless times. With each report, Ji’s frown deepened. His wounds were almost healed; draped in a loose robe, he idly tapped his fingers on the sandalwood table.

“There’s nothing unusual. I’ve had someone investigate Kaiming—she’s just a commoner, no background. The incident before seems to have been a coincidence. But she’s been too close with Su.”

A folding fan tapped lightly beside his fingers, and a soft voice added, “Su, the unit captain, is quite a capable man, isn’t he?”

“I heard that all your captains here are sons of influential officials?” The young master’s rosy lips curled, and clear eyes slanted toward Ji.

“Yes. Su’s father is none other than the civil official of the Violet Palace.”

“The civil official?” Young Master Dai sneered. “The one who’s always digging up dirt on others? He’s been eyeing our Dai family for years, just waiting for a misstep to report to the throne.”

Ji’s gaze was steady. “I am willing to resolve any worries you have, Young Master.”

Dai’s folding fan, which seemed always closed, flicked in his hand. “To act against him would only alert our enemies. My father has tolerated him for years, for reasons known only to himself. Still, if the civil official wants evidence, perhaps we can give him a chance…”

He leaned in and whispered a few words in Ji’s ear. Ji nodded, eyes growing wide with realization.

In broad daylight, she took the small jade vial meant for Chunhua, ignoring her companion’s muttered protests, and slathered it on both her palms. The stuff seemed quite good—delicate in texture, fragrant in scent. Chunhua had already tested it for poison; all was well.

With cool cucumber slices on her face and beauty cream on her hands, she felt at ease. This Yaksha body was sturdy—perhaps a bit more flesh than she was used to, but not as fragile as a sheltered young lady’s. After intense training, she found it increasingly to her liking.

The whole room of female soldiers had followed her lead, resting at noon with all sorts of fruit slices on their faces. Women everywhere loved beauty, and soldiers were no exception. After she’d first applied cucumber slices, the entire dorm followed suit. Back home, Kaiming had always preferred such simple beauty routines. This Yaksha’s skin was rough, worn by sun and rain, but weren’t beautiful women made through diligent care? So, every few days, she’d indulge in a little self-care.

She tossed the bottle back to Chunhua, amused by her pained expression as if she’d lost a piece of her own flesh. Glancing around, Kaiming noticed one bed was empty. “Where’s Qiaoqiao?”

The soldier on the next bunk replied sourly, “She’s a young lady—probably off somewhere nice and cool.”

Another chimed in kindly, “She left after lunch with a dark face. Didn’t seem in a good mood.”

“Hm.”

Kaiming couldn’t help but recall how Qiaoqiao had ignored her the past couple of days, even more coldly than when she’d first arrived. Was she still holding a grudge over that incident a few mornings ago? Or did she have troubles she couldn’t resolve?