“I’m just worried if he doesn’t believe my story in the first place, we won’t even get a foot in the door,” Duan Ling said.
“That won’t be an issue.” Mu Kuangda smiled like a wily old fox. “We have something he wants. He’ll meet with you.”
He passed over a small wooden box, and Duan Ling opened it to find a yellowed silk scroll painted with mountains, rivers, and various other terrain. Duan Ling looked at it with surprise.
“This was found in the Zhao manor’s storage when the court seized Zhao Kui’s property,” Mu Kuangda explained. “It’s a treasure map.”
Duan Ling’s jaw dropped. The treasure map was as thin as a cicada’s wing, the silk almost translucent.
“Bian Lingbai has coveted this map for a long time, but after Zhao Kui’s assets were confiscated, he couldn’t find it. Even the emperor doesn’t know it exists. I’d anticipated it might be useful someday, so I tucked it away. To go with it, I’ve forged a letter from Zhao Kui, supposedly penned before his death, for you to present.”
Duan Ling, examining the treasure map, asked, “What’s buried here?”
“Wealth enough to rival a nation,” Mu Kuangda said calmly as he sipped his tea. “Zhao Kui prepared a contingency plan before staging his rebellion. In the case that he failed, he would’ve retrieved the treasure and fled west. With a private army of eighty or a hundred thousand soldiers, he could have essentially established a small country of his own. It would certainly have been a way to make a living.”
Thoughtful, Duan Ling tucked away the treasure map.
“Bian Lingbai won’t trust you immediately, of course,” Mu Kuangda reminded him. “You alone won’t be able to gain access to his most closely guarded secrets. He’s ambitious and canny—but given what you can offer him, it shouldn’t be impossible to join his army with Wu Du.”
Duan Ling saw the plan clearly now: His cover story and the treasure map were unimportant; he only needed to buy time for Wu Du’s work. “I understand,” he said. “I won’t fail in my mission.”
Mu Kuangda nodded in satisfaction. “Once you’re in, Wu Du, you will need to act as the thief.”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Wu Du said.
“Take what documentation you can,” Mu Kuangda instructed. “Both his ledgers and his correspondence if you’re able. You two discuss the specifics of what to keep or leave behind between yourselves. Before you leave, dispatch him—and we can start negotiating with Western Liang once we have the evidence in hand. Bian Lingbai has been at risk of rebellion for a long time; after Zhao Kui’s death, nobody can restrain him. Allowing him to live will result in undue complications down the line. He must be dealt with as soon as possible.”
Wu Du nodded again. Mu Kuangda would certainly reward him well if he accomplished this mission. Just as Duan Ling had said, climbing the ranks wasn’t easy. This was his first proper assassination mission for Mu Kuangda, and an opportunity to demonstrate his loyalty—refusal wasn’t an option.
“What if he’s innocent?” Duan Ling asked suddenly.
Wu Du’s expression changed in an instant.
Mu Kuangda chuckled and glanced at Duan Ling. Duan Ling realized he should not have, under any circumstances, asked this question—but he’d done it anyway.
“Very well.” Mu Kuangda acknowledged him with a slow nod of the head. “If he is innocent, will you kill him or not?”
He’d thrown the ball back into Duan Ling’s court, an assessing look in his eyes.
Duan Ling drew breath, about to answer, when Mu Kuangda continued in a leisurely tone, “If he’s innocent, you may do as you see fit.”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Duan Ling said, relieved.
Mu Kuangda gave him a penetrating look. “Come back as soon as possible,” Mu Kuangda said. “The imperial examination will be held once the capital is moved. You should avoid falling behind in your studies.”
Duan Ling stood and took his leave alongside Wu Du.
On their way back home, Duan Ling pondered their instructions. Mu Kuangda seemed to have crafted a flawless plan. He had emphasized several times before their exit that Bian Lingbai must appear to have died of natural causes. That way, the court could send a general to take command of Tong Pass’s garrison with no risk of mutiny.
“Even if he’s innocent, he has to die,” Wu Du murmured.
“I know,” Duan Ling said. “But if he really is innocent, you won’t do it, right? And neither will I. There aren’t many generals capable of defending the border. If he doesn’t intend to rebel, he shouldn’t die senselessly.”
As they closed the courtyard gate and returned to the privacy of Wu Du’s room, Duan Ling whispered, “We’ll do as Prime Minister Mu ordered for now. If our investigation turns up nothing, you don’t have to execute the mission just to prove your loyalty. If you do, the blame for killing innocents will fall on your head.”
Wu Du turned with knit brows, catching Duan Ling’s eye. A tacit understanding passed between them.
“Go to bed,” Wu Du said. “We’re heading out first thing in the morning; don’t keep yourself up thinking about it.”
As Duan Ling shuffled toward his bedding, Wu Du stopped him. “Sleep in my bed. It’s been raining for days; the floor’s damp.”
Duan Ling accepted without hesitation and slipped beneath the bedcovers to sleep, while Wu Du remained seated at the table, poring over the treasure map in the low light.
What must have been hours later, Duan Ling groggily woke and mumbled, “Aren’t you gonna sleep?”
Wu Du hummed a response. In the dim glow cast by the lamp, he held the treasure map between his fingers, examining every inch of the silk scroll. Finally, he slid into bed without changing his clothes, lying next to Duan Ling beneath the same shared covers.
Duan Ling blearily turned over and tossed a leg over Wu Du’s waist, instinctively snuggling closer. He pillowed his head on Wu Du’s arm and practically wrapped himself around him. Wu Du was at an utter loss. It would be awkward to shove Duan Ling away, but it seemed even weirder to purposefully hold him close. Being sleepily embraced by a young man like this was strange; his whole body stiffened in response.