For a moment, neither of them said a word. A myriad of expressions crossed Wu Du’s face before he finally asked: “What’s this?”
The man started to explain, but Duan Ling buried his face in his hands and cut him off, afraid things would only get worse. He shooed the man out.
Wu Du was left alone with Duan Ling, who gave him a questioning look. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“The madam asked me to come see you,” Wu Du said casually. “As the young master doesn’t seem to like men or women, I’ll have to serve you myself.”
Duan Ling burst into laughter, while Wu Du remained exasperated. He looked Duan Ling up and down. “Do you have the same…affliction as Mu Qing?”
“Huh?” Duan Ling asked, confused. “What affliction?”
“Forget it, forget it.” Wu Du didn’t want to explain it to him either, so he sat down on the divan.
“Has your friend not come yet?” Duan Ling asked.
“No,” Wu Du said. “I was thinking about it more, and we should just go back.”
Wu Du must have been considering this over the course of the night. Would he really leave the prime minister’s residence and seek another master? Or would he stay? Duan Ling hoped Wu Du wouldn’t leave, or his own situation would become even more precarious—but for Wu Du, it was an important decision and should be properly reasoned through. Duan Ling didn’t dare pry into his thoughts, so they sat together in silence. Duan Ling lay down and rested his head on Wu Du’s thigh, while Wu Du’s mind wandered, his gaze vacant.
“Let’s go,” he said finally. “Home.”
Duan Ling sighed with relief; it seemed Wu Du planned on staying in the prime minister’s residence after all. Yet at that precise moment, a voice outside called, “Sir, your friend has arrived and is waiting next door.”
“I’ll go speak to him for a bit,” Wu Du said. “Wait here. It’ll just be a few minutes.”
Duan Ling nodded, and Wu Du slipped out the door.
In the Tianzi Room across the way, the lighting was dimmer. Wu Du pushed the door open to enter, and an attendant closed it behind him.
“It’s been some time since we saw each other, Wu-qing. Please sit.”
Lang Junxia sat to one side, pouring wine into a cup, while Cai Yan occupied the center of the divan. He offered Wu Du a smile and a nod.
Wu Du took a step forward and dropped to one knee. “Greetings, Your Highness.”
Cai Yan hurried forward to help him up, but he’d barely touched him when Wu Du stood and stepped backward. Cai Yan gestured him toward a seat, but Wu Du remained standing, silent.
“Are you in that much of a hurry?” Lang Junxia asked mildly.
Wu Du nodded and took a deep breath. “Please speak, Your Highness.”
“The last time we met was at Ming Academy in Shangjing,” Cai Yan said. “So many years have passed in the blink of an eye. I wanted to invite you to drink a cup of wine during the Qixi Festival to pay tribute to my royal father’s heroic spirit, but as I’ll be unable to leave the palace then, I came to see you in advance.”
“I offended Your Highness back then, and I deserve death for it. Everyone has their own master; I had no choice at the time,” Wu Du replied.
“As you say, everyone has their own master. Of course I will not blame you,” Cai Yan said, still smiling. “Wu-qing, are you going to continue standing while talking to me?”
Only at this repeated urging did Wu Du take a seat.
“This cup is to thank you for retrieving my father’s body,” Cai Yan said. He waited until Lang Junxia placed the cup before Wu Du and raised his own. Wu Du picked up his cup and, presuming they wouldn’t try to pull anything with an actual master of poisons, tipped the wine back with the other two.
“I wasn’t able to meet with you before this not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t get away,” Cai Yan explained.
Wu Du held his silence for a long moment, then glanced carefully between Lang Junxia and the crown prince, Li Rong.
“When my father was alive,” Cai Yan continued, “only two people remained loyal to him. One was Wuluohou, and the other was you. After I returned to court, my first thought was to bring you into the palace to serve me—but as I already had Wuluohou, I thought monopolizing you would be a waste of your talent, and I made other arrangements. I’m sure you understand, so I won’t go into the rest of the details.”
Wu Du was taken rather aback, but as understanding dawned on him, he narrowed his eyes. Lang Junxia gazed at the cup of wine in front of him, maintaining his silence.
“During morning court today, Prime Minister Mu submitted a memorial regarding moving the capital. I thought we shouldn’t wait any longer to see one another,” Cai Yan said. “Meeting you tonight is a risk for both of us, but with the move of the capital, there will also be changes in personnel. If I didn’t speak to you now, it would be even harder for you to get away.”
Cai Yan watched Wu Du expectantly, as if hoping for some reaction, but both Lang Junxia and Wu Du were like a pair of wooden statues. Silence prevailed.
“Wu-qing, what’s on your mind?” he prompted gently. “You may speak freely.”
Wu Du sighed. “When Your Highness was furious and punished me for failing to protect the late emperor, I thought you truly desired my death. Now I can put this worry to rest.”
He approached Cai Yan, knelt before him, and prostrated himself. Cai Yan hastily came forward to help him rise—sincerely, this time—and pulled him up to stand.
“I’ve wronged you.” Cai Yan’s eyes had gone red and teary. “After the capital is moved to Jiang Prefecture, I must establish a force of imperial bodyguards. I haven’t decided what to call it yet, but those whom I appoint to lead it must be those I trust. After much thought, you are the only suitable candidate.”
Wu Du fell silent again.
“My plan is to combine this new imperial guard with the original shadow squad to create an intelligence organization that can spy on our enemies as well as investigate domestic affairs,” Cai Yan continued. “Since you are already under Prime Minister Mu’s command, he will not suspect me of planting you.”
Wu Du frowned slightly. Lang Junxia, observing his expression, saw that he seemed caught in some dilemma. “Your Highness…” Wu Du began.
“You don’t have to give me an answer now.” Cai Yan raised a hand to forestall him. “You’ll have plenty of time to think about it after you go back. At this time, I just wanted to thank you, but rewarding you with treasures and gold would only sully your pure heart…”
When Wu Du heard this, his eyes grew red at the rims. After Li Jianhong’s death, Wu Du had rushed to Shangjing and recovered Emperor Wulie’s body. When he’d returned to court with it, Li Yanqiu had exploded in a rage and had him detained; a few months later, when Wuluohou Mu had returned with the crown prince, the crown prince, too, wanted him sentenced to death. It was Mu Kuangda who had submitted the appeal that saved his life.
Over all those days, nobody had tried to understand him or sympathized with him. Now those invisible shackles seemed to fall away at this acknowledgment of his pure heart.