owlsbooks Chapter 41: Three-Party Dynamics
Chapter 41: Three-Party Dynamics
"Clatter!"
I don't know how much time passed.
A clear sound, like a stone thrown into a deep pool, suddenly broke the suffocating silence.
Ying Zheng put down his bamboo pen, as if he had just been pulled away from the heavy political affairs, and said calmly without raising his head.
"Zhao Gao..."
"The three additional armored squads you dispatched should not be discovered, should they?"
Zhao Gao, who was standing below the steps, was already feeling a chill run down his spine from the invisible pressure, and cold sweat was dripping from his forehead, but he didn't even dare to wipe it away.
This question was like a thunderbolt to him, or even a pardon.
"Reporting to Your Majesty!"
Zhao Gao felt as if he had been granted a pardon. Almost the instant the words fell, he suddenly raised his head and spoke rapidly, each word clear.
"I have already strictly ordered these three teams to follow at a distance, not to enter the Grand Master's sight, and not to disturb his movements."
"Moreover, they are all led by trusted confidants, and their movements are extremely secretive, so there is absolutely no risk of being exposed."
"Your Majesty can rest assured."
"Yes, you may leave."
Ying Zheng's gaze remained fixed on the bamboo slips, and he merely nodded slightly and spoke softly.
"only!"
Zhao Gao kowtowed deeply, his forehead hitting the ground heavily with a dull thud.
Only then did he dare to carefully prop himself up, bending his waist extremely low, maintaining the most respectful posture, taking one step at a time, slowly backing away towards the palace gate.
Zhao Gao felt as if every step he took backward was stepping on his heart.
They retreated until they were in the shadow of the huge, coiled dragon bronze pillar at the entrance of the hall.
It wasn't until a bead of sweat hanging from his brow slammed into his right eye, causing a sharp, burning pain, that Zhao Gao finally snapped out of his daze.
Knowing Ying Zheng's thoughts so well, how could he not know that he had just narrowly escaped death?
Before he could even feel relieved, Zhao Gao didn't hesitate for a moment and quickly turned around and disappeared into the swirling snow.
Inside the main hall, only Ying Zheng remained.
He slowly rose, his black imperial robe adorned with the twelve symbols of imperial authority hanging down. Ying Zheng strolled to the palace gate, stood with his hands behind his back, and gazed outside.
Heavy snow was falling wildly, turning the world into a vast, chaotic expanse.
Ying Zheng's gaze seemed colder and farther than the wind and snow, fixed intently on the distant north.
That gaze seemed to pierce through wind and snow, through time and space, to see everything.
"I hope that Master Zou will not let me down!"
Ying Zheng murmured to himself, the sound escaping from his throat so faint it was almost instantly swallowed by the wind and snow.
"otherwise......"
The rest of the words were lost in the biting wind.
However, a fleeting glint of violence and murderous intent crossed his usually dignified and composed face.
Like thunder suddenly tearing through the night sky from thick, dark clouds, it is silent yet terrifyingly revealing everything.
-----------------
"Achiu—!"
Meanwhile, on the official road leading north.
Zou Yun, who was sitting in the carriage with his eyes closed, suddenly sneezed without warning, waking up all the drowsy people in the carriage.
"Is the Venerable Master well?"
Sitting opposite him, Feng Zhixue was wide awake and immediately leaned over to ask with concern, his face full of worry.
"Did you catch a cold from sleeping outdoors last night? I have dried ginger in my baggage. It is warm in nature and can be eaten to warm the body, dispel cold, and expel the chill."
As he spoke, he reached out to search for the baggage beside him.
"There's no need to trouble you, Mr. Feng."
Zou Yun raised her hand to stop his slightly flustered movements, rubbed her nose, and looked out the car window at the rising sun.
The golden light pierced through the clouds and spilled onto the snow-covered wilderness.
"I want to come."
Zou Yun gazed at the vast northern horizon, lost in thought, a subtle, enigmatic smile playing on his lips.
"There must be someone far away, talking about someone."
'On this journey to Yunzhong, we will inevitably pass through Shangjun, where Prince Fusu resides. I wonder how he is doing there...' he pondered to himself.
To be honest, thinking back to my time in Xianyang...
The time spent with Fusu was probably the rare moment when Zou Yun could relax a little amidst the vortex of power.
Unlike when interacting with Ying Zheng, where one had to tense up and expend energy to portray an unfathomable immortal.
It wasn't like when I was with Feng and Zheng, where they kept track of my every move and scrutinized my every action.
His relationship with Fusu was like that of friends from a past life.
Although Fusu, the noble prince of the Qin Dynasty, couldn't understand Zou Yun's joke.
But seeing his bewildered expression, after being fooled by his novel theory, and then sincerely expressing his gratitude, I found it quite amusing.
A thought suddenly flashed through my mind.
"Is this what it feels like to be deceived by a gentleman's principles?"
"Ha ha......"
Thinking about this, Zou Yun unconsciously chuckled softly.
In his mind, the image of a refined and elegant young gentleman quietly emerged.
Feng Zhixue and Zheng Ze were taken aback by the sudden laughter and looked at each other in bewilderment.
They quickly exchanged a glance, and without a word, they both understood the same message from each other's eyes.
"Oh no, the Grand Master... he's probably had another sudden attack."
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Shangjun refers to the main hall of the prefectural government.
The furnishings here are simple and austere, reflecting the rugged pragmatism of this important border town, a stark contrast to the luxury of the palaces in Xianyang.
Fusu was dressed in a deep robe, with a plain gauze undergarment, and wore a large military cap symbolizing his military rank.
He sat upright behind the main table, his posture proper and meticulous.
Before him lay the Great Wall corvée register, recently delivered by the Shangjun Works Bureau, and the garrison soldier registration documents from General Meng Tian's office.
The heavy stacks of bamboo slips bear witness to the fates of countless soldiers stationed on the frontier.
At this moment, the doors and windows of the hall were tightly closed, and the clerks and officials on duty stood solemnly on both sides, holding their breath.
According to the Qin system, when an official was in charge of affairs, the doors had to be closed and the officials quiet.
No one may enter or disturb the peace without being summoned.
Fusu was intently proofreading the corvée schedule with his vermilion brush.
The number of soldiers at a certain pavilion, the number of days for ramming, the number of days for repairing barriers, and the number of days for rest and recuperation were all checked against the corvée laws, without any deviation.
Any delays in construction projects, desertions of garrison soldiers, or discrepancies in rations must be reported to the Prefectural Governor and the Prime Minister's Office via official correspondence.
The bright red cinnabar left clear marks on the dark yellow bamboo slips.
Just as the pen was about to settle on the next line of concise text—
"Report—!"
Suddenly, the gatekeeper on duty outside the hall called out loudly, his voice tinged with urgency.
"The clerk of the Ministry of Works requested an audience, saying he had urgent business to attend to."
"pass."
Fusu's vermilion brush hovered in mid-air, but he did not look up. He simply uttered a single word in a deep voice.
A moment later, a clerk dressed in black robes hurriedly entered without removing his hat.
He hurried into the hall, and before he could even stand still, he prostrated himself, his forehead pressed against the cold ground, not daring to look up.
"Young Master."
Ling Shi's voice was deep, with a rugged quality unique to the frontier.
"Your Majesty, I hereby report that a woman has been staying at the foot of the Great Wall in the northern section of Shangjun for three consecutive days and has not returned home."
"The official ordered her to leave according to the law, but the woman lay prostrate on the ground, weeping incessantly, insisting that she would not leave and would wait by the side of the rammed earth construction day and night."
"The officer wishes to arrest and prosecute him according to the law, but..."
At this point, Ling Shi paused, but continued speaking with a hesitant expression.
"However, this action would disturb the laborers and disrupt the city's construction, so I dared not make a decision on my own. I have specially dispatched this subject to urgently report to the young lord, and humbly request the young lord to make a wise decision."
Fusu's vermilion brush suddenly stopped.
"despair."
A drop of rich vermilion ink, gathered at the end of the bamboo slip, resembles a heavy bead of blood.
Round and glaring!