TSLSILMH Ch 46

Chapter 46

Night soil?

Hearing this, Xie Shu’s hand, half withdrawn in midair, froze. A helpless chuckle slipped out.

No wonder, a moment ago, the Young Lord had revealed such an uncharacteristically playful smile—it turned out the cause was this.

Yet when he thought of Xi Mo, desperate and fleeing, forced into such an undignified plight, sympathy pricked him all the more.

The two of them spoke while waiting for news. This time, Xie Shu recounted every detail of today’s events in full.

When the matter of the Third Prince arose, he faltered, but did not hide it.

Yu Chuxi listened silently, his eyes steady, showing concern at parts, yet no trace of fear.

Still, Xie Shu reached across, grasping his hand in gentle reassurance.

Yu smiled faintly. “Don’t worry. I’m not afraid. Knowing who lurks behind matters more—he hides his hand, uses pawns, proving he dares not reveal himself to daylight. That means he knows his actions cannot bear scrutiny. Since that is so—your teacher and you will find the way.

I only fear—he will not end it here. Xi Mo was nearly harmed. Could it be linked to his men? We must guard ourselves.”

Then his brows drew close, and he added softly: “Next time—you need not tell me everything at once—”

Hearing his own words, he realized their weight and quickly clarified: “I mean, I fear they may seize upon me, exploit me if they know too much…”

Xie Shu looked at him quietly and murmured: “I understand. I’ll be cautious. But still, I will tell you of my burdens. I want you to trust me—and we must be honest with each other from here on. That way, should villains try to plant suspicions between us, they’ll find no crack to exploit.”

He then bowed in courtesy, sighing softly: “Today, I troubled and worried you. It is my fault. May you not blame me…”

At his words, Yu Chuxi’s eyes glimmered, a thousand soft ripples passing through them.

Seeing Xie Shu bow so gravely, Yu sprang to rise and stop him, but caught himself, cheeks reddening. Turning aside, voice low as a whisper: “We are husband and husband—what need for such words…”

His lashes shook; the tail of his words came out tender.

A faint glow settled between Xie Shu’s brows. Smiling, he leaned closer, about to speak again—when a voice outside announced: Xi Mo had been found.

Soon, the boy entered. Though unharmed, he was disheveled, eyes red. He wiped his face, blurting: “Master, you must speak for me. I nearly never came back today!”

As it turned out—Xi Mo had noticed a shadow tailing him shortly after leaving. This man was swift, perhaps skilled in martial arts. Xi Mo dared not cry out, fearing he would be seized before help came. In haste, he hid Xie Shu’s letter, then veered toward the gates instead of home.

The man, unfamiliar with Jinling’s streets, realized too late he was being misled. Just as he rushed to seize Xi Mo, the boy spotted an ox-cart heading out of the city. Jostling into the crowd, he leapt aboard—gaining a precious step, escaping.

When he finished recounting, Xi Mo kept a distance—he had gone with such filth, after all. Out of respect, he distanced himself, unwilling to bring offense to the Young Lord.

Xie Shu questioned him further on the pursuer. From the details, he was sure—it was no common thug, but an armed guard, even a trained officer. Likely from the capital, traveling with the eunuch’s retinue.

So it was, he concluded, and sent the boy off to rest.

—

Meanwhile, Liu Qiang the eunuch had just dismissed Gu Yuanke. Left alone, his brows furrowed deep.

Never had he thought the Third Prince’s task would entangle a disciple of Jiang Hong.

He, as eunuch, knew well the weight of such names. That was no ordinary scholar Jiang had been, but Chancellor of the Imperial Academy, voice of the nation’s literati. Even in retirement, his presence was heavy.

For a moment, Liu Qiang had feared himself ensnared, but the timing showed it real coincidence—this youth was taken in mere days ago.

Still, he disliked it. Gu’s plan was clumsy—why try to hinder the Yus while their son-in-law was Jiang’s pupil? Better to befriend him instead. The merchant clan’s vision was short indeed.

The Third Prince might shelter him, future crowned. Yet for Liu Qiang, the risk was sharp. A wrong move could cost him dearly.

As he was thinking this, word came—the constables had tracked one of his men.

And so it proved. Wang Qiang, startled, followed the trail to a side estate near Wenqi Ward. He soon faced resistance of unusual skill—the guard clearly trained, not common rogue, able to overpower even him. Only when called “Commander Sun” was ordered to let him pass.

Inside, it was Liu himself who smiled thinly at the trembling head constable.

Feigning overt threat, he pressed questions. Wang wisely gave plain truth—Xie Shu’s servant had vanished, and the trail had led here. Producing the portrait, Xie Shu’s uncanny sketch, Wang asked plainly if such a guard remained in his service.

Liu did not rage. Instead, cold interest stirred. With a smile, he had Commander Yang explain—yes, the man, called Zhou Ming, was indeed one of their escort. Off carousing, perhaps in mischief, absent all night.

He rebuked his officer for poor discipline, yet allowed Wang his answer.

Wang, seizing the chance, bowed low, swore to speak no word against Liu, thankful for his allowance, then withdrew.

By next morning, the constables announced Zhou Ming had been arrested. Since Xi Mo was unharmed, punishment would not be grave—further trial would decide.

Hearing this, Xie Shu was surprised.

Had it been so easy? The man was no ordinary thug. And yet—they allowed his swift capture? Could it be deliberate?

Mystery remained in his heart.

—

That day, after study with his teacher, Xie Shu sat home in quiet, copying essays.

The rhapsody, Jiang had reminded him, has two modes: one, expressing matters of state, where freedom of style was praised; and the second, ornate composition, where paired phrases and rhyme were sought. Both demanded skill, clarity without redundancy, beauty without cloying.

He pondered long over words, pen in hand.

Until his lord returned early, rays of sun golden across his form. Dressed radiant, his beauty seemed almost too bright, too dazzling.

For a heartbeat, Xie Shu forgot to breathe, forgot words.

Yu Chuxi came near, tugged lightly at his sleeve, whispering simply: “It is resolved now…”

He blinked, shadows in his heart breaking. He smiled in reply—yet he saw the Young Lord had words unsaid still, lingering.

Footnotes

 

 

1. 侍衛 (Imperial guards/attendants) – Elite guards often accompanied eunuchs or royals when traveling. Martial skill far above local constables. 
2. 國子監祭酒 (Chancellor of the Imperial Academy) – Prestigious post once held by Jiang Hong, head of the realm’s highest scholarly institution. His reputation still commanded respect. 
3. 論賦 (Rhapsody essays) – A critical essay form mixing poetry and prose, once core of imperial exams. Split into direct thematic exposition and ornate descriptive style.