A spar wasn't necessary. But when Murong Jin, at Xue Liulan's side, saw Xue Zhuoran, she froze. He carried the quiet authority of a born noble—enough to make her wonder if this was the same man.
At the posthouse, he had worn fine brocade and fox fur, but beneath the elegance was the roguish air of a wandering swordsman. Now, in yellow court robes and a jade crown, he looked every inch a prince, without the rot that clung to most. The clarity in him remained.
"Siyou." Xue Liulan stepped forward and offered a warrior's salute.
"A rare sight, you are waiting at the gate for me." Xue Zhuoran returned it, his eyes lifting to Murong Jin. "Your leg?"
Murong Jin snapped back to herself. "Fine." She stepped forward and dipped in a neat, courtly curtsey. "Murong Jin greets the Fourth Prince. Thank you for your concern."
Xue Zhuoran raised an eyebrow, studying her before smiling. "My apologies. Forgive my rudeness, Sister-in-law."
"Rude? Not at all. We're all family," Xue Liulan said, his arm sliding around Murong Jin's waist. He grinned. "Let's not stand around out here. Come on, inside."
He took her hand, but she pulled back slightly, her voice a playful pout. "I just said I was going out. Did you forget already?"
Xue Liulan's face broke into a grin. "My memory. So happy to see Siyou, it slipped my mind. Go on, then. Be careful."
"Don't worry." Murong Jin nodded, her head dipping to glance at the hand he still held. She looked up at Xue Zhuoran. "Please, Your Highness. Forgive my leaving."
"Of course," Xue Zhuoran replied. He and Xue Liulan stood on the steps, watching her figure vanish down the stone path.
"Gone. Shall we?" Xue Zhuoran clapped Xue Liulan on the shoulder, teasing. "With her skills, she's the one who makes others suffer. In all of Jindu, who's her match?"
Xue Liulan shot his brother a sideways glance, then turned and walked through the gates with him.
"And yet, she was injured right in front of you. In the entire dynasty, anyone who could wound someone under your watch is no ordinary person."
"So you're blaming me for failing her?" Xue Zhuoran boomed with a laugh.
"Knowing you, I'm sure you did your best," Xue Liulan said, his expression growing thoughtful as they walked toward a garden pavilion. "Just as now… she is leaving on purpose."
"To avoid our conversation?" Xue Zhuoran asked, sitting. His fingers brushed the rim of a teacup a maid had set down. "Only here can one drink this fine Xiaoshan Zhengzhong."
Xue Liulan sat across from him, shaking his head. "She's avoiding saying too much in front of you."
"Oh?"
"About General Xu of Sushen." Xue Liulan reached for a cup, paused, then drew his hand back. "Did Father truly forbid an investigation?"
"He did." Xue Zhuoran set his own cup down with a sharp click. "I understand his concerns, but a decision like this… it breaks the hearts of the frontier generals."
Xue Liulan considered this. "Few know. And it wouldn't be the first time."
Xue Zhuoran opened his mouth, then let out a bitter laugh. "True. In recent years, the court has done more than enough to break their hearts."
The two brothers fell silent, the air in the pavilion growing heavy.
Xue Liulan's fingers tapped unconsciously on the table's edge. A sharp crack shattered the quiet. He'd broken his cup.
"Burned?" Xue Zhuoran asked, rising to look at his stunned brother.
"No." Xue Liulan stood. "Little Dingzi, another cup."
"Yes, Your Highness!" a voice called back, and hurried footsteps faded away.
"What were you thinking about? Same old habit." Xue Zhuoran sat, tapping the stone table.
Xue Liulan laughed. "I doubt I'll ever change." He hesitated, then his expression turned serious. "With the vacancy at Sushen, who does the Ministry of Appointments plan to send?"
"That…" Xue Zhuoran's brow furrowed.
"A military secret?"
"Not at all. They hadn't decided when I left the palace yesterday. It's a difficult situation."
"Difficult?" Xue Liulan repeated. "The Seventh Prince's recommendation clashes with the court?"
A smile touched Xue Zhuoran's lips. "Have you truly not set foot outside for two months?"
"Of course not. Fifty strokes of the staff is no joke. That old ox at the Court of the Imperial Clan never shows mercy."
Xue Zhuoran gave a sympathetic smile. "The Seventh Prince recommended Zuo Xunxiao."
"To them, Zuo Xunxiao is Murong Yan's man. Send him to Sushen, and the entire northwest might as well be Murong territory."
"And yet, because of her, he is now your enemy," Xue Zhuoran said calmly. "Our seventh brother's move is a gamble."
"At the palace gates that day, if she hadn't stopped him, Zuo Xunxiao would be headless," Xue Liulan said softly. He saw Little Dingzi rushing back, a cup held carefully in both hands.
"He was going to kill you over her?"
Xue Liulan nodded. "Of course. Heroes are predictable around beauty."
"My lord, the tea." Little Dingzi, panting, set the cup down. He bowed, his eyes snagging on the shards at Xue Liulan's feet, unsure whether to sweep now or later.
"Three or four years you've been with him," Xue Zhuoran said, smiling at the eunuch. "More devoted than ever."
"You jest, Your Highness," Little Dingzi fawned. "His Highness is my master. It is my duty to serve him."
"His princess consort is a true marvel. Understandable, what Zuo Xunxiao did." Xue Zhuoran looked at Little Dingzi. "Tell me, what is she like?"
The eunuch dropped to his knees. "She is my master, Your Highness. Please, spare this servant."
"Don't make it difficult for him," Xue Liulan said, pulling the eunuch up. "If Little Dingzi could say a good word about her, he wouldn't be my man." He gestured. "Go wait over there."
"Yes." Little Dingzi retreated to a pillar at the edge of the pavilion.
Xue Liulan smiled. "I leave tomorrow. Will you do me a favor at the palace?"
"I'm listening."
"Recommend someone for Sushen."
"Who?"
"The Commander of the Imperial Guard, Guo Ren," Xue Liulan said, his voice grave, his eyes locked on his brother's.
Xue Zhuoran's brow twitched. He studied his brother for a long moment, then slowly nodded. "Alright. I'll do it."
Xue Liulan let out a breath. "Thank you."
"No need for that. But promises must be remembered." As he spoke, Xue Zhuoran raised his index and middle fingers and swiped them through the air. A small gesture, but its meaning was absolute.
"I remember," Xue Liulan nodded.
Steel to steel, they'd sworn it once—under open sky, no way back.
After seeing Xue Zhuoran off, Xue Liulan stood at the residence gate, his hands behind his back, his gaze lost on the road she had taken.
He turned. "Little Dingzi, when she left, did she say when she'd be back?"
"No, my lord."
"Where she was going?"
Little Dingzi glanced up at him. Your own wife, and you don't know? Has she run away again?
Knowing the eunuch's silence meant he didn't know, Xue Liulan walked down the steps.
"My lord!" Little Dingzi scrambled to block his path. "Your confinement…"
Xue Liulan froze. He'd forgotten. He turned, then stopped again. "Little Dingzi."
"Yes, my lord!"
"Send a few men out. Tell them to come home early." The thought of her walking the streets alone made something cold twist in his chest.
"Out drinking, my lord?" The memory of that night flashed through Little Dingzi's mind.
Xue Liulan's brow snapped down. "Insolent."
"Yes, yes, this servant is insolent! At once!" Little Dingzi vanished like smoke.
Xue Liulan watched him go. His gaze cooled. "And tell Guo Ren," he added, almost to himself. "If anyone shadows her, I want their names by nightfall."