Chapter 776: The Cicadas Chirp [Thank You! Again! 37k Chapters Owed]

When Zhao Fang was being punished in the palace,

on the way back to Quyuanjie,

Xu Zaijing rode his horse, his eyes filled with concern as he watched Zhao Meifeng beside him.

Zhao Meifeng met his gaze and smiled: “Wu Lang, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Big Brother Zhao, has the bureau been especially busy lately? Your eyes are sunken, and your face looks worn out.”

Zhao Meifeng touched his cheeks and nodded: “Our master is growing older by the day, so I’ve had to take on more responsibilities within the bureau.”

Glancing at Xu Zaijing, Zhao Meifeng sighed: “Staying in the capital too long has made the Gao family forget their place entirely! They dared to privately arrange for the Prince to leave the palace!”

“Thank heaven and earth no great disaster occurred—otherwise, countless lives would have been lost.”

“You’re right, Big Brother Zhao.” As he spoke, Xu Zaijing’s eyes scanned the street warily.

“If Gao Yunqing hadn’t spotted that suspicious monk nearby, many would’ve thought you were overreacting,” Zhao Meifeng said.

Xu Zaijing kept scanning, nodding: “Better to overreact than risk the Prince’s life! Big Brother Zhao, has the bureau captured any major Liao spies? Can you identify that monk’s identity?”

“Let’s try,” Zhao Meifeng said, turning his head to study Xu Zaijing closely.

Sensing the gaze, Xu Zaijing smiled: “Big Brother Zhao, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Wu Lang, after you met the Prince this morning, you immediately had the windows shut—did something occur to you?”

“Yes.” Xu Zaijing nodded. “When I was downstairs at Fan Lou, I felt a moment of unease.”

“Once I realized the Prince was inside, my first thought was to block any possible enemy’s line of sight—to hide what was happening in the private chamber.”

Zhao Meifeng smiled: “That’s the experience of a scout from your battlefield days, Jing Ge.”

“You’re right, Big Brother Zhao.”

Zhao Meifeng exhaled, his tone sharp: “The Prince was seated right in the center of the chamber! Only a screen stood between him and the windows. Just thinking about it now makes my palms sweat.”

He extended his hand, showing Xu Zaijing his palm.

Xu Zaijing nodded slightly—he understood why Zhao Meifeng was so shaken: as head of the secret service, Zhao Meifeng knew exactly how such an attack should unfold.

“But if Fan Gu’s mouth had been looser—or if you hadn’t gone to Fan Lou today—I’d guess that within an hour, by noon, the Prince would’ve been struck down.”

“Yes, you’re right, Big Brother Zhao. I suspect the real strike won’t come at Fan Lou. It’s an enclosed space—walls and windows block most methods.”

Meeting Zhao Meifeng’s approving look, Xu Zaijing continued: “Once outdoors, Gao Jing’s guards are already too few—barely enough to cover the basics—”

He shook his head. “By the way, after this incident, I imagine you’ll all be swamped in the days ahead.”

Zhao Meifeng beside him smiled helplessly: “Wu Lang, it’s not just our bureau! Kaifeng Prefecture, Shenwei Army, Longwei Army—they’re all just as burdened.”

Xu Zaijing, watching the bustling street, said: “Big Brother Zhao, it’s as if the spies in the capital are weeds—cut one patch, another grows.”

“Hah, you’re right, Wu Lang! In the Liao’s western capital, Nanjing, and other major cities, our own spies face the same cycle.”

“The difference is, thanks to you, the Liao’s sharpest blade against spies now sits in the Imperial Surveillance Bureau’s prison.”

“Big Brother Zhao, you overstate it—it was pure chance that day.”

As they spoke,

they turned a corner and arrived at Quyuanjie.

Before the Hou Fu gate,

beside the stone lions,

Xu Zaijing and Zhao Meifeng and the others dismounted.

Seeing them, the Xu family’s gatekeeper hurried forward to bow.

Xu Zaijing nodded in greeting, then walked side by side with Zhao Meifeng through the gate.

“Wu Lang, what do you mean? Yan-Yun’s sixteen prefectures were former territory of the previous dynasty, mostly Han people—how could they possibly aid the Liao in attacking our imperial army?” Zhao Meifeng looked at Xu Zaijing with confusion.

“Big Brother Zhao, Yan-Yun has been under Liao rule for many years—isn’t that possibility real?” Xu Zaijing countered.

Seeing Zhao Meifeng shake his head in disagreement, Xu Zaijing continued: “You know the tax systems of our dynasty and the Liao differ, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Which is heavier?”

Zhao Meifeng paused, then said: “Our dynasty’s taxes are heavier, but the Liao impose brutal military and labor conscription—overall, our system is more lenient.”

After speaking, Zhao Meifeng looked at Xu Zaijing’s smile and asked: “What? You disagree with me?”

“No, Big Brother Zhao—I agree. But will ordinary people under Liao rule calculate it as carefully as you do?” Xu Zaijing countered.

Seeing Zhao Meifeng frown, Xu Zaijing said: “Perhaps my view as a man from Bianjing isn’t accurate—why not send someone to the borderlands to ask the people directly?”

Zhao Meifeng’s eyes darted rapidly—he was thinking furiously.

After taking two more steps, he stopped, frowning: “Wu Lang, our bureau has always assumed that when our army advances, the Han people of Yan-Yun will welcome us with food and wine. But now you say—”

“No, I must return at once.” Zhao Meifeng turned to leave.

Xu Zaijing grabbed his sleeve. Zhao Meifeng said: “Wu Lang, let go.”

Xu Zaijing shook his head: “Big Brother Zhao, what I’ve said won’t yield conclusions overnight.”

Zhao Meifeng paused. Xu Zaijing continued: “Besides, our army is strong and well-equipped, we’ve regained the momentum of reclaiming Baigaohebei, and we just crushed the Liao at Fengzhou! Let’s catch up—we haven’t spoken in a long time.”

Zhao Meifeng: “Wu Lang, you—”

Xu Zaijing pressed on: “By the way, Big Brother Zhao, could you walk me through the major clans in Liao’s Yan region, and their tensions with the Liao imperial family and Mongol tribes?”

Hearing this, Zhao Meifeng smiled, sighing: “Fine, today I’ll indulge you.”

Understanding the Liao’s grievances and rivalries would allow them to stir conflict, turning the Liao against itself.

As Xu Zaijing and Zhao Meifeng caught up, officers from the Imperial Surveillance Bureau continued arriving to report.

Unfortunately,

today was the Dragon Boat Festival,

the capital’s citizens and gentry were hosting feasts at home, crowds moving constantly—making the bureau’s investigation extremely difficult.

Aside from capturing a few wandering bandits in temples outside the city due to military lockdowns, there were no other leads.

After the Dragon Boat Festival,

Jiyin Alley,

the Sheng household,

during the morning break,

Xiao Tao brought a cup of tea over; Minglan turned aside to receive it, and as she sipped, she glanced at Xu Zaijing’s wrist.

Seeing the exquisite bai suo still tied there, Minglan smiled and returned her gaze to her tea.

Chang Feng beside Minglan tugged at Qi Heng’s robe, eager: “Young Master Qi, weren’t you and Jing Ge at Fan Lou yesterday?”

“They say in the capital that Master Ruan’s Shishi is breathtakingly beautiful and a poetic genius—even the Imperial Prince went to see her?”

Qi Heng and Xu Zaijing exchanged glances. Qi Heng asked: “Is that what everyone’s saying?”

“Yes! This afternoon, our servants heard it too,” Chang Feng nodded. “Young Master Qi, did you and Jing Ge see Shishi? Is she really that beautiful?”

Listening, Ruolan wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Qi Heng shook his head. “I didn’t see her.”

Chang Feng sighed in disappointment, glanced at Gu Tingye, and said: “What a pity.”

Xu Zaijing, watching the look in Chang Feng and Gu Tingye’s eyes—“We should go check it out”—sighed slightly.

Gu Tingye, before his marriage, had seen Shishi—but she’d been wearing a veil then.

After a short rest, the tutor resumed class.

Before lunch, a Sheng household servant entered with an envelope, bowed, and said: “Master, a letter arrived at the gate—it’s from Prefect Gu of Kaifeng Prefecture.”

“Hmm!”

Seeing the tutor nod, the servant quickly offered the letter.

The tutor opened it, read it swiftly, then smiled.

He handed the letter to Chang Bai and said: “Chang Bai, pass it around for your classmates.”

Seeing Chang Bai smile after reading it, Xu Zaijing, Gu Tingye, and the others behind them all looked curious.

Once Zai Zhang and Chang Zhi had read it and passed it to Gu Tingye, Xu Zaijing leaned forward to look; Qi Heng and Chang Feng joined him.

“Hah, Rongxian actually earned merit,” Gu Tingye chuckled as he read.

After reading, Gu Tingye’s smile faded. He said with a touch of envy: “Rongxian’s lucky.”

Chang Feng, having read it too, glanced at the letter, handed it to Minglan on his left, and said to Gu Tingye: “Second Brother Gu, that’s heaven’s blessing!”

Hearing this, Xu Zaijing smiled too.

It wasn’t surprising Gu Tingye was envious—Rongxian truly had good fortune.

The official bulletin stated that in mid-month, during a battle between Zhou troops and Nong-Zhao people, the weather suddenly turned violent.

Amid thunder and lightning, hailstones the size of eggs rained down on the enemy.

In just a dozen breaths, countless Nong-Zhao soldiers were injured.

The Zhou troops suffered only from wind and rain—only a few men were hurt.

After the hail passed, the Zhou army pursued and captured countless prisoners.

The bulletin added that nearby barbarian tribes, hearing of this, now saw the Zhou army as heavenly troops and came forward to submit.

Of course, the greatest credit went to the Marquis of Xie—the main force was under his command.

Xiong Yan, the Count of Kang’an, was also listed on the merit roll.

In the afternoon,

when class ended, the sun still hung in the west.

After chanting “Thank you, Master,” the students filed out of the classroom one by one.

Leaving the courtyard, as they walked toward the stables, Qi Heng tugged at Xu Zaijing’s sleeve, and the two fell behind.

Seeing no one nearby, Xu Zaijing lowered his voice and asked, “Yuanruo, what’s wrong?”

“Jingge, how did yesterday’s affair turn into a story that the Prince went out of admiration for her?”

“Isn’t this using the imperial name to flatter that Shishi girl? How did Madam Ruan dare?”

“And the rumors didn’t mention the Gao family at all.”

Qi Heng fired off several rapid, hushed questions.

Xu Zaijing glanced ahead at Gu Tingye and Zai Zhang, then whispered, “I think it might be the Prince or the Empress trying to protect the Gao family’s reputation. Such stories rarely appear in popular tales, so the common folk naturally love to talk about them.”

Qi Heng paused, then nodded. “Jingge, you’re right! If the senior ministers learned the Gao family had endangered the imperial heir, their memorials would come like snowflakes.”

“What about Madam Ruan and Fanlou?” Qi Heng asked again.

Xu Zaijing smiled and whispered, “Yuanruo, you’ll have to figure that out yourself.”

Mid-May,

precisely the third hour (just after four in the morning),

the night sky was ink-black,

a full moon hung low in the western sky,

under its glow,

insects hidden around the Xu family’s riding ground chirped intermittently, making the riding ground seem even quieter.

A bright yellow lantern glowed before the wooden hut; scattered flying insects circled the light, occasionally bumping into the lantern.

As if sensing footsteps, the insects near the pathway fell silent at once.

Only when the footsteps faded did they resume their chirping.

Now that Qingyun, Alan, and Xunshu had all married, only Yin Bo lived permanently in the hut; Alan and Xunshu took turns staying overnight.

At this hour, morning dew was heavy; after donning armor and training, Xu Zaijing and his horse would be soaked and caked with dust.

After training, when Xu Zaijing went to bathe, Alan or Xunshu would carefully clean and maintain his armor before putting it away.

On the way to the Sheng household,

the morning temperature was pleasant, and the streets were filled with far more pedestrians than before.

By the time Xu Zaijing arrived at his studies, he no longer needed candles—he could read by morning light alone.

Watching Chang Zhen, yawning as he read, his expression endearing, Xu Zaijing’s lips would unconsciously curve upward.

Morning training, school, returning home.

Day after day, the same routine, and the weather grew hotter.

Cicada songs became dense, chirping from dawn till dusk, driving people mad.

In the Sheng household’s study hall, the most popular items became watermelon and other fruits chilled in well water.

The Sheng household had also chilled fruit with ice.

But after Chang Feng ate chilled fruit one day and changed clothes over a dozen times in the afternoon, they stopped using ice and used only well water.

By June,

the heat intensified,

offerings left before Cui Fujun’s temple in the capital spoiled within one or two days unless cleared away.

That day,

Guangfu Alley,

in the courtyard rented by Chai Zhengzheng,

beneath dense, emerald-green tree shade, a cool breeze blew; a clear stream, diverted from the imperial gardens, flowed through a small channel in the yard, bringing refreshing coolness.

The pavilion above the stream lay within the shade, its sides hung with gauze, while incense to repel insects and the melodious sound of a pipa drifted through the air.

Around the pavilion,

maids occasionally walked along the covered walkway, carrying trays of fruit.

Inside the pavilion,

ice chests filled with ice sat at each corner; with shade and cool water, the noble ladies inside needed only to gently fan themselves to feel a breeze brush their faces.

“This courtyard is truly wonderful—I can’t find a pavilion this fine in my own home,” said Gu Tingyi, her hair styled as a married woman’s, fanning herself with a smile.

Zhang Wu niang, holding a wedge of ripe watermelon, laughed: “Then ask Xu Wu if he’ll sell it—buy it and it’s yours.”

Chai Zhengzheng seemed not to hear her friend mention someone; her eyes, full of concern, fixed on Rong Feiyan beside her. “Feiyan, your complexion looks poor—are you unwell?”

Rong Feiyan, whose face had a faint yellow tinge, smiled and shook her head. “No, just summer fatigue. I’ve been cooped up at home so long—finally invited, I had to come.”

“Has the Imperial Consort Rong come out of confinement? Have you visited the palace?” Chai Zhengzheng asked.

At this, Rong Feiyan’s expression shifted slightly; she glanced at Chai Zhengzheng and nodded. “Yes, I went. My sister and the young prince are well.”

Chai Zhengzheng smiled. “Yes! Cold weather is easy—light a heated floor and wear thick clothes. But this heat? It’s unbearable.”

Rong Feiyan looked at Chai Zhengzheng’s radiant smile, pressed her lips together, suppressed the question she wanted to ask, and changed it to: “Zhengzheng, do you have any secret for avoiding summer fatigue?”

(End of chapter)