After Sun Yuan tactfully withdrew from the room, Huo Wujiu opened the letter.
The paper was somewhat crumpled from the force that the writer had exerted on it, a sign of the righteous fury that had consumed the writer as he penned the message.
Huo Wujiu glanced out the window.
In the courtyard, Meng Qianshan was conversing with the carpenter who had delivered the wheelchair, and the carpenter was hurriedly jotting down notes on a piece of paper; it seemed like Meng Qianshan was asking him to make modifications. As soon as Sun Yuan stepped outside, Meng Qianshan summoned him over to sit on the wheelchair, so he could try pushing him around the courtyard.
They seemed to be testing the wheelchair’s sturdiness.
Lowering his gaze again, Huo Wujiu unfolded the letter.
Over a decade has passed since I parted ways with His Lordship, the former marquis. Following the Battle of Xunyang, my grief came in tandem with my rage, and I could barely restrain myself. Yet there was little that I could do, for I earn my living through serving this nation. For that reason, even though we are both presently within the city of Lin’an, I still find myself too ashamed to face you.
By this point, some of the characters were blurred beneath dried splotches of tears.
Huo Wujiu’s brow wrinkled, and he flipped to the very last page of the letter, where the writer’s signature was.
Ji Hongcheng
He did, in fact, have a vague impression of this person, even if in a rather roundabout sort of way. Though Southern Jing lacked generals, he recalled that his father’s old friend, Lou Yue, was among the handful of qualified ones they had. The man who wrote this letter used to be one of Lou Yue’s subordinates in the army, but he had since taken up a position in the Ministry of War.
Huo Wujiu flipped back to the first page.
Every word in the letter dripped with Ji Hongcheng’s distress and remorse, but Huo Wujiu wasn’t offended by his choices and didn’t need his apologies.
Years ago, before his father’s revolt, the previous emperor had feared the Huo family. As such, he deliberately cut off their reinforcements and supply lines at a critical moment during war. After the fighting ended, he used those circumstances to level an accusation against the Huo family, so he could find an excuse to execute the entire clan. That was why Huo Wujiu’s father chose to revolt: because of the deep grudge and enmity between him and the former emperor. In reality, it had nothing to do with the nation as a whole, nor had he expected his peers to rally around him the way they had.
A court official’s fundamental duties should include serving the nation and remaining loyal to the emperor. Rising in rebellion for the sake of brotherhood was something that only occurred in fanciful tales of martial arts heroes.
Huo Wujiu’s gaze skated impassively across the sincere lines that Ji Hongcheng had bared his heart to write, and he honed in on the section that came after.
General, I am aware that you’re currently facing a challenging situation. I earnestly hope that your resolve for vengeance will only be strengthened by these trials, even if you must endure this heavy burden of humiliation for now.
As he read on, his eyebrow ticked up ever so slightly.
The Prince of Jing is not a man of good character. Today, during the court assembly, he engaged in most vulgar conversation with His Majesty. With no sense of shame, he openly discussed the intimate relations he shared with you, General, in front of the court. Thereafter, His Majesty ordered for you to be brought in for an audience with him. The Prince of Jing’s loathing and disgust was beyond evident in his words and actions! Even at the cost of giving up the construction rights to the ancestral temple, he would rather keep you imprisoned in his residence.
This person’s vile and despicable nature speaks for itself, so do take care of yourself, General. At present, General Lou is stationed in Lingnan subduing bandits, and words from a man in my lowly position carry little weight, thus rendering me powerless. It is truly difficult for me to repay the debt of gratitude I owe to His Lordship, the former marquis, from all those years ago. However, worry not, General. If there comes a day when your humble subordinate can be of use, I will most assuredly do everything in my power to assist.
The letter was rather short, and it concluded there.
Huo Wujiu quickly held it above the lamp on the table that Sun Yuan had purposefully lit for him. The flame licked across the paper, instantly burning one corner to ashes.
All of a sudden, Huo Wujiu jerked his hand and pulled the letter back from the fire, almost automatically.
He allowed his gaze to fall back on the second-to-last paragraph of the partially burned letter. And then once more. And again, and again…
By the time he came to his senses, he had almost memorized it word for word. Somewhat startled by his own impulsive actions, he rapidly resumed feeding the letter to the fire. After that, he also burned the envelope it came in until nothing was left.
The flame flickered slightly in his eyes.
Huo Wujiu stared at it as several deep furrows formed between his brows.
How very unexpected.
Even his father’s old friend, full of regret and aching for an opportunity to repent, knew to keep his distance and put his own safety first.
And then there was that timid white rabbit, who acted fierce while being harmless at heart, and who by all logic should not have cared about Huo Wujiu as much as he apparently did. That rabbit stepped forward and intervened on his behalf in court. He even willingly forfeited the power that he had managed to obtain, all so Huo Wujiu would be subjected to a little less humiliation—that, and nothing more.
He never thought that he would one day be protected by someone with such frail, thin shoulders.