“Asking me is pointless,” Bian Lingbai said. His attitude toward Wu Du was still frigid. “If you were hoping to hand the Guardian over to your new master, you came to the wrong place.”
“I should have known,” Wu Du countered with equal derision. “With your shoddy skills, you’d never even be able to wield it.”
Every time Bian Lingbai attempted to humiliate Wu Du, he ended up the worse off. Now he looked ready to explode.
“I’ll return after Zhao Rong is settled,” Wu Du said. “Otherwise, the prime minister might get suspicious.”
Bian Lingbai sighed heavily again—this time with some relief—and waved a hand at the servants, sending them off to make accommodations for the pair.
“Zhao Rong, come to dinner later.”
It seemed Bian Lingbai had believed him. Maybe he would allow Duan Ling to become an idle hanger-on, or perhaps foster him for the sake of his teacher, Zhao Kui. In any case, the mission was off to a smooth start. The next steps would be up to Wu Du.
Bian Lingbai appointed them a guest room and servants to attend them, which Wu Du sent away. Their missing belongings and robes were waiting in their courtyard, presumably recovered after the rest of the bandits were apprehended. Duan Ling was rolling up his sleeves to start tidying up when Wu Du stopped him.
“Don’t blow your cover,” he said. “Remember, you’re a young master. You don’t do housework.”
“Zhao Rong was in a desperate situation,” Duan Ling argued. “He escaped death and you’re the one who saved him, so this isn’t merely a master-servant relationship. It’s reasonable for me to do some things for myself.”
After a moment of thought, Wu Du agreed. Together they cleaned up their new accommodations before finally retiring to the bedroom. Duan Ling shut the door behind him as Wu Du flopped down on the bed.
“We’ll be here for a while,” Wu Du said. “Maybe quite a while. I didn’t think he’d accept us so easily—we haven’t even given him the treasure map. Do you think he believes your story?”
“Whether he believes me or not,” Duan Ling said, “he isn’t that smart. I came here seeking refuge—he doesn’t find that suspicious enough on its own to investigate closely. At most, he’ll be guarded when speaking with me. He took in Helan Jie, so what’s one teenage boy?”
“Yeah,” Wu Du murmured as he lay there, deep in thought.
Duan Ling settled down on the bed next to him and closed his eyes.
“What are you going to sleep for?”
“Aren’t you taking a nap too?” Duan Ling asked, confused.
“This is training.”
“Training for what?” Duan Ling was even more baffled. “Your sleep technique?”
Wu Du ignored him, zoning out.
“He didn’t ask about Shandong at all,” Duan Ling mused.
“He didn’t know Zhao Pu well,” Wu Du said. “But still—tread carefully. Don’t let your guard down.”
Duan Ling had filled himself in on Zhao Rong’s past on the road, familiarizing himself with all the requisite people and events in Shandong, yet none of it had been of any use. Being thrown into an unfamiliar environment made him anxious, jittery. The only thing that made him feel safe was Wu Du.
“Hey.” Duan Ling nudged Wu Du again, but he was already asleep.
Looks like he was really training his sleeping skills. Duan Ling tilted his head and gazed openly at Wu Du’s face. His eyebrows were striking, and the defined contours of his face gave him a rugged look—but when he was asleep like this, his roguish aura dissolved, leaving a strange gentleness in its place. He’d spent the prior two nights awake, either saving people and hunting down enemies, or keeping watch on Duan Ling under Helan Jie’s predatory gaze; he hadn’t been able to rest well.
Duan Ling let him sleep and got up to gingerly sort through their belongings. Everything was there, but they had obviously been searched. Bian Lingbai must’ve had some suspicions, after all.
Why was Helan Jie at Tong Pass?
As Duan Ling headed into the Bian manor for dinner at dusk, he wondered: Did Helan Jie’s presence here prove Bian Lingbai was part of the conspiracy to assassinate the late emperor? And if so, who was the mastermind behind Bian Lingbai?
Wu Du had woken just before dinner and was still groggy and irritable, his brow slightly furrowed. They entered the main hall to find that, while Helan Jie thankfully had not made an appearance, another familiar face awaited them—the young lady they had rescued. Now recovered from her trial and finely dressed, she appeared a bit younger than Duan Ling. Bian Lingbai was in the middle of talking to her when they arrived.
Duan Ling greeted them both with a proper guest’s bow, and the girl blushed and fell silent.
“This is Miss Yao, of the Yao family in Huaiyin,” Bian Lingbai said to Duan Ling. “I believe you met on the way here.”
Duan Ling nodded. Bian Lingbai turned to the young lady and gestured toward Duan Ling. “This is my eldest brother’s son, Bian Rong.”
The girl was Commandery Princess Yao Zheng’s younger cousin, Yao Jing. She nodded at Duan Ling in return. Unmarried girls weren’t permitted to introduce themselves to strangers. Though Bian Lingbai was a military man who cared little for such etiquette, he handled the introduction properly out of consideration for the Yao family.
Duan Ling had carried too many names in his short life—a life which was beginning to seem like a play. He adopted one role one minute, another the next. Duan Ling, Li Ruo, Wang Shan, Zhao Rong, Bian Rong—personas appeared one after the other, the switching of masks so constant he felt he barely knew himself anymore as he sat dazed in the bright hall.
“Marquis Yao sent her to Tong Pass to be married off to a prominent house of Western Liang,” Bian Lingbai explained to Duan Ling. “We weren’t expecting the carriage to catch the eyes of bandits on the road. It was fortunate you and Wu Du happened to come to her rescue.”
“Thank you both for saving me.” Yao Jing raised her cup with gracious manners.
Duan Ling smiled and turned to Wu Du. “She’s toasting you.”
Still disoriented from his nap, Wu Du grunted a wordless response and carelessly tossed back his cup. Duan Ling waited for him to swallow the wine before following suit.