It’s getting late. Duan Ling recalls the meeting he and Cai Yan agreed upon earlier, and Yelü Zongzhen sends a servant to get an invitation to Cai Yan for him to come drink with them. The streets around the Viburnum have been sealed off to ordinary traffic. As soon as Duan Ling steps off the carriage, he senses that something doesn’t feel quite right
When Xunchun led Yelü Dashi to a meeting with Li Jianhong, it probably made him more guarded against the Viburnum; bringing the emperor to this place now ultimately shows a lack of due consideration. Duan Ling ponders this as he follows Yelü Zongzhen, and walking through the corridor, they suddenly come face to face with Xunchun without any warning.
Xunchun gives Yelü Zongzhen a slight nod. “Sir.”
The two of them have never met before, and Yelü Zongzhen is hiding who he is as well, but Duan Ling knows that Xunchun must be well aware of his identity. The Viburnum got a room ready for Han Jieli. Yelü Zongzhen is seated, Yelü Dashi is seated, and Duan Ling takes a seat in the outer room where he waits to be summoned, bringing in the hand towels and courses of food, staying far to avoid listening in on their conversation. Yelü Zongzhen doesn’t call Duan Ling inside either, just sits with Han Jieli and chat about nothing in particular.
Ding Zhi brings in a tray of food and wine; she and Duan Ling meet each other’s eyes.
“I’ll try it first,” Duan Ling says.
Ding Zhi stares at Duan Ling for a beat, then breaking into a smile she picks up one of the small plates of food with her fair, graceful hand, and passes it to him.
This way, Duan Ling knows that he’s given them fair warning not to attempt anything rash. The Viburnum wouldn’t go so far as to simply put arsenic in their food, but one can never guarantee that they won’t use some sort of slow-acting poison. If they have a mind to do so, it’s truly impossible to guard against them.
The bodyguard outside tries the food first, and after it’s brought in, Duan Ling tries it once more before carrying it into the inner room personally. After all the food and wine are laid out on the tables, they speak quietly in the inner room. Duan Ling can’t really hear much. How troublesome, Duan Ling thinks to himself; Han Jieli has been sticking to Yelü Zongzhen’s side this whole time so he can’t get a chance to discuss anything with Yelü Dashi. He’ll have to find some pretext to draw him away elsewhere.
As he thinks this, he suddenly becomes aware of Yelü Zongzhen’s purpose in summoning him and making him come along. Soon, someone inside orders another jug of wine, and so Duan Ling takes the wine and brings it in. Yelü Zongzhen though, doesn’t try to hide their discussion from him at all and simply keeps talking, “… if the fighting lasts, Zhao Kui may even redeploy his troops guarding the road into Yubiguan and use them in a pincer attack against Li Jianhong …”
Duan Ling steps on the bottom edge of his gown and stumbles over the fabric. Half a jug of wine splashes out and spills all over Han Jieli.
Han Jieli looks down silently at his wet gown.
Duan Ling immediately sets down the wine jug to wipe down Han Jieli. To his credit, Han Jieli is wellbred enough that his anger only shows for a mere second before vanishing. His brows furrow. “Duan Ling, you’re going to have to take the three cups penalty for that.”2
“I am truly sorry,” Duan Ling smiles apologetically.
Still speaking with Yelü Dashi, Yelü Zongzhen doesn’t even look over at Han Jieli as he tells him offhandedly, “See if they have any clothes here at the Viburnum that you can change into, and borrow a set for now.”
“I always keep some with me just in case.” Han Jieli says, “They’re right there in my carriage. I’ll get my attendant to bring a set over.”
Duan Ling calls for someone right away, and holding out a hand palm up he gestures, this way please, and takes Han Jieli away to change.
The room in the side wing is brightly lit. Duan Ling takes the clothes from the servant and attends to Han Jieli.
Throughout the whole process neither of them says a single word. It’s oddly quiet in the room with only the rustling of clothes being adjusted. Silence remains until Han Jieli finishes changing. He only says one thing as he leaves the room.
“I didn’t think you seemed like someone who came from a merchant family at first. But from what I saw earlier you do look rather like a merchant.”
Duan Ling breaks out in a cold sweat, realising that Han Jieli has gotten wise of his intentions and is now mocking him for his opportunism — how Duan Ling has bet his stake on Yelü Zongzhen the moment he joined the game. It is a merchant’s way of thinking, and it is also a merchant’s courage.
Duan Ling smiles. “Mister Han, you jest. The one I’m usually closest to is really Cai Yan.”
Cai Yan didn’t show up; Duan Ling noticed that as well. Yelü Zongzhen told him he’d send someone for Cai Yan, but in reality he hasn’t. It must be because Cai Yan and Han Jieli are close and Yelü Zongzhen didn’t want another eavesdropper. Now that Duan Ling has said a thing like that though, Han Jieli grows a bit paranoid, momentarily unsure how he should respond. Duan Ling has openly steered him away so that Yelü Zongzhen and Yelü Dashi can get a chance to converse alone, but privately he’s hinting he’s taking the Han family’s side — what is that supposed to mean? Han Jieli is a bit mixed up now, and can’t figure out what Duan Ling’s trying to do.
Duan Ling thinks to himself, there can never be too much deception in war, it’s not like I’m going to pursue a career in your Great Liao anyway, so you can go right ahead and think whatever you like.
“This way please,” Duan Ling says.
When they hear Duan Ling’s voice, Yelü Dashi and Yelü Zongzhen have time to prepare themselves. Once inside, Zongzhen says, “You said it yourself earlier — the penalty’s three cups.”
And so Duan Ling pours himself the penalty of three cups. Yelü Zongzhen watches him smilingly, his eyes quite filled with approval.
“I wonder why, but the moment I saw Duan Ling’s face I thought it felt like our destinies are truly linked.” Yelü Zongzhen says to Han Jieli, “I’m unusually fond of him.”
“Shouldn’t you get down and thank His Majesty already?” Han Jieli says.
Duan Ling is about to take a step forward and kowtow but Yelü Zongzhen waves the idea off. “Us Khitans are not into that sort of thing. Go have some food. You don’t need to wait on us anymore.”
Duan Ling knows that Yelü Zongzhen has finished saying what he’s come to say, and so he steps out and closes the door, leaving the three of them inside while he walks down the corridor to a side room. Melodic flute music drifts toward him, soft and indistinct. It’s Joyful Reunion again. Duan Ling can’t help but recall the day he came here with his father.
He follows the sound of the flute and finds a small two-storey building amongst the pine and bamboo; it happens to be the very same one he stayed in on the first day Lang Junxia brought him to Shangjing.
Xunchun is sitting on a stone chair, her red dress fanned out around her on the ground as she plays the flute, in no hurry to get to the end. Duan Ling stops, and stands there watching. She’s playing this song to summon him; it’s a signal only they know about. Before long, the music grows gradually quieter, until it fades into nothingness.
A full moon hangs overhead, illuminating the mortal world below.
Duan Ling’s fingertips pinches the edge of his letter, and he hands it to her. A maid comes over and takes it from him.
He was going to spare a few sentences to relate Shangjing’s situation, but given his father’s intellect, even if Duan Ling doesn’t tell him anything, he’d be able to guess.
“The first time I saw you on that winter night you were still asleep. It was six years ago, wasn’t it? Though I was able to make a rough guess at your identity, I wasn’t able to tell at the time. The second time I saw you was in the carriage. You came in and called me ‘madam’.”
Duan Ling watches Xunchun quietly without a word.
Xunchun heaves a sigh. “This feeling you give off is truly resembling his Third Highness more and more.”
Duan Ling already has a man’s voice, and over the past year and a half, he’s grown quite a bit taller. His eyes are fixed on Xunchun, considering her. “If you choose to meddle this time and shift the blame to Yelü Dashi, the Han family will end up controlling the northern administration. Han Weiyong is hawkish, and if Liao’s armies go on the march, the south will be in imminent danger. Madam, keep in mind that you mustn’t do anything rashly — think thrice before you act.”
Duan Ling finishes, then he gives Xunchun a respectful bow. Xunchun immediately gets up to return the gesture, but Duan Ling doesn’t say anything more before he leaves.
Wine flows freely inside the parlour as food is shared; they drink for a while longer until each leaves the room to board their respective carriages. Yelü Dashi is the first one to go, leaving behind Han Jieli and Yelü Zongzhen.
“I’ll take you home,” Yelü Zongzhen says to Duan Ling, then he turns to tell Han Jieli, “Subject Han, you may go.”
The carriage proceeds along the late night avenues. Yelü Zongzhen is a little bit tipsy, and he doesn’t say anything along the way; he remains silent the whole time until they’re just outside Duan Ling’s door.
“What kind of tree is this?”
As Duan Ling descends the carriage, Yelü Zongzhen happens to spot a branch sticking out from above the courtyard walls.
“It’s a peach tree, Your Majesty.”
“In your Han’s eyes everything is so beautiful.” The corner of Yelü Zongzhen’s mouth is turned up in a slight curl. “Peach trees tender and lush, how brilliant their blossoms.”3
Duan Ling gives him a smile.
Yelü Zongzhen adds, “Go on home then.”
Duan Ling bows to him and steps off the carriage. Yelü Zongzhen hasn’t said anything on their way here, but contrary to awkwardness, it’s the kind of silence which signals a tacit understanding they share. The moment he’s home again Duan Ling lets out a long breath. The only thing he feels is: it’s so exhausting.
All the information that is said and others that remain unsaid spin into a whirlpool of thoughts; it’s come too quickly, and it’s left him little time to think through it all in detail. He suspects Yelü Zongzhen never had much hope to begin with, and only once Duan Ling took Han Jieli out of the parlour did he decide on the future path that Liao and Chen will follow.
Thinking, he walks through the gate. As he reaches the courtyard he suddenly hears a soft, barely audible noise.
If this was before, he may have thought it merely a cat walking along the top of the wall, but this light noise has given him cause for alarm — it is the sound of an assassin stepping onto a roof tile, using their internal force to make a leap. When Li Jianhong took him along, and they travelled along the rooftops, he’d occasionally make a sound just like that.
“Who’s there?” Duan Ling says grimly.
The noise has vanished. Perhaps it’s out of instinct, but Duan Ling immediately grabs his sword from the courtyard and comes out onto the street again to run after Yelü Zongzhen’s carriage!
Assassin! He spies a dark shadow, the sight followed by a few more faint noises; the coachman is shot through the neck, then killed with a sword. The assassin thrusts his sword into the carriage, but Yelü Zongzhen has already hopped out through the window. The assassin dashes forward. With a flick of his long sword, Yelü Zongzhen’s weapon goes flying!
Duan Ling hesitates no more. Leaping into the air he hops onto a stone lion, flips over the wall, and drops into the courtyard next to the street.
Yelü Zongzhen had run off as soon as he landed, and in the next move the assassin thrust his sword at his back.
A gate to the side of them opens suddenly, and a sword comes sweeping out — right onto the assassin’s blade, pushing it out of the way just enough that it misses to graze Yelü Zongzhen’s neck. With one hand, Duan Ling made that thrust with his sword, and with the other he pulled Yelü Zongzhen by the arm towards himself, switching their positions and putting Yelü Zongzhen behind him.
In a split second decision Duan Ling makes a move that’s tantamount to trading his life for the masked assassin’s.
Duan Ling points his sword towards the assassin’s throat, but the masked man4 suddenly drops his sword and pushes out a palm instead; Duan Ling puts all of his strength behind his palm, turns to his side and strikes back, but to his surprise the masked man backs away just as they’re about to touch, and redirects all the force Duan Ling is throwing into the move to the side. Duan Ling immediately loses his balance and falls bodily onto the ground.
“Who’s there?!” All of a sudden, people are rushing out from every direction, fanning out in a circle around Duan Ling and Yelü Zongzhen.
The masked man doesn’t stay for a difficult fight, and leaping up the wall, vanishes into the night.
“Duan Ling!” Yelü Zongzhen steps forward and pulls Duan Ling to his feet. Duan Ling stumbles, and turns to look all around him.
“Who was that? I heard something outside the door earlier and ran over to see what was happening.”
Yelü Zongzhen shakes his head, and worried that there may be another ambush nearby he asks the four bodyguards dressed in black, “Who do you serve?”
The bodyguards kneel down in a circle around them. One of them says, “Northern Administration. When Your Majesty exited the Viburnum earlier, one of the Han family’s people were following you to try to figure out where you were going. I was thus momentarily delayed stopping the scout from the Han family, and arrived one step too late. A thousand apologies.”
“Go back and inform your prince. Clean up this area.” Once Yelü Zongzhen finishes giving instructions to the guards, he tells Duan Ling quietly, “Don’t let anyone know about this.”
Duan Ling nods. Yelü Zongzhen nods back, signaling to Duan Ling do not worry with his eyes before he goes.
I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
Three cups as per the rules of the Jingu Garden. ↩︎
Peach trees tender and lush, how brilliant their blossoms is the first line of a folk song sung in a wedding procession as they carry the bride’s palanquin to the groom’s house. ↩︎
The text very carefully avoids using any gendered pronouns here, but “masked person” sounds terrible, and also, it’s a man; you’ve seen this particular redirection move before. (This is information the audience possesses but Duan Ling does not.) ↩︎
It’s getting late. Duan Ling recalls the meeting he and Cai Yan agreed upon earlier, and Yelü Zongzhen sends a servant to get an invitation to Cai Yan for him to come drink with them. The streets around the Viburnum have been sealed off to ordinary traffic. As soon as Duan Ling steps off the carriage, he senses that something doesn’t feel quite right
When Xunchun led Yelü Dashi to a meeting with Li Jianhong, it probably made him more guarded against the Viburnum; bringing the emperor to this place now ultimately shows a lack of due consideration. Duan Ling ponders this as he follows Yelü Zongzhen, and walking through the corridor, they suddenly come face to face with Xunchun without any warning.
Xunchun gives Yelü Zongzhen a slight nod. “Sir.”
The two of them have never met before, and Yelü Zongzhen is hiding who he is as well, but Duan Ling knows that Xunchun must be well aware of his identity. The Viburnum got a room ready for Han Jieli. Yelü Zongzhen is seated, Yelü Dashi is seated, and Duan Ling takes a seat in the outer room where he waits to be summoned, bringing in the hand towels and courses of food, staying far to avoid listening in on their conversation. Yelü Zongzhen doesn’t call Duan Ling inside either, just sits with Han Jieli and chat about nothing in particular.
Ding Zhi brings in a tray of food and wine; she and Duan Ling meet each other’s eyes.
“I’ll try it first,” Duan Ling says.
Ding Zhi stares at Duan Ling for a beat, then breaking into a smile she picks up one of the small plates of food with her fair, graceful hand, and passes it to him.
This way, Duan Ling knows that he’s given them fair warning not to attempt anything rash. The Viburnum wouldn’t go so far as to simply put arsenic in their food, but one can never guarantee that they won’t use some sort of slow-acting poison. If they have a mind to do so, it’s truly impossible to guard against them.
The bodyguard outside tries the food first, and after it’s brought in, Duan Ling tries it once more before carrying it into the inner room personally. After all the food and wine are laid out on the tables, they speak quietly in the inner room. Duan Ling can’t really hear much. How troublesome, Duan Ling thinks to himself; Han Jieli has been sticking to Yelü Zongzhen’s side this whole time so he can’t get a chance to discuss anything with Yelü Dashi. He’ll have to find some pretext to draw him away elsewhere.
As he thinks this, he suddenly becomes aware of Yelü Zongzhen’s purpose in summoning him and making him come along. Soon, someone inside orders another jug of wine, and so Duan Ling takes the wine and brings it in. Yelü Zongzhen though, doesn’t try to hide their discussion from him at all and simply keeps talking, “… if the fighting lasts, Zhao Kui may even redeploy his troops guarding the road into Yubiguan and use them in a pincer attack against Li Jianhong …”
Duan Ling steps on the bottom edge of his gown and stumbles over the fabric. Half a jug of wine splashes out and spills all over Han Jieli.
Han Jieli looks down silently at his wet gown.
Duan Ling immediately sets down the wine jug to wipe down Han Jieli. To his credit, Han Jieli is wellbred enough that his anger only shows for a mere second before vanishing. His brows furrow. “Duan Ling, you’re going to have to take the three cups penalty for that.”2
“I am truly sorry,” Duan Ling smiles apologetically.
Still speaking with Yelü Dashi, Yelü Zongzhen doesn’t even look over at Han Jieli as he tells him offhandedly, “See if they have any clothes here at the Viburnum that you can change into, and borrow a set for now.”
“I always keep some with me just in case.” Han Jieli says, “They’re right there in my carriage. I’ll get my attendant to bring a set over.”
Duan Ling calls for someone right away, and holding out a hand palm up he gestures, this way please, and takes Han Jieli away to change.
The room in the side wing is brightly lit. Duan Ling takes the clothes from the servant and attends to Han Jieli.
Throughout the whole process neither of them says a single word. It’s oddly quiet in the room with only the rustling of clothes being adjusted. Silence remains until Han Jieli finishes changing. He only says one thing as he leaves the room.
“I didn’t think you seemed like someone who came from a merchant family at first. But from what I saw earlier you do look rather like a merchant.”
Duan Ling breaks out in a cold sweat, realising that Han Jieli has gotten wise of his intentions and is now mocking him for his opportunism — how Duan Ling has bet his stake on Yelü Zongzhen the moment he joined the game. It is a merchant’s way of thinking, and it is also a merchant’s courage.
Duan Ling smiles. “Mister Han, you jest. The one I’m usually closest to is really Cai Yan.”
Cai Yan didn’t show up; Duan Ling noticed that as well. Yelü Zongzhen told him he’d send someone for Cai Yan, but in reality he hasn’t. It must be because Cai Yan and Han Jieli are close and Yelü Zongzhen didn’t want another eavesdropper. Now that Duan Ling has said a thing like that though, Han Jieli grows a bit paranoid, momentarily unsure how he should respond. Duan Ling has openly steered him away so that Yelü Zongzhen and Yelü Dashi can get a chance to converse alone, but privately he’s hinting he’s taking the Han family’s side — what is that supposed to mean? Han Jieli is a bit mixed up now, and can’t figure out what Duan Ling’s trying to do.
Duan Ling thinks to himself, there can never be too much deception in war, it’s not like I’m going to pursue a career in your Great Liao anyway, so you can go right ahead and think whatever you like.
“This way please,” Duan Ling says.
When they hear Duan Ling’s voice, Yelü Dashi and Yelü Zongzhen have time to prepare themselves. Once inside, Zongzhen says, “You said it yourself earlier — the penalty’s three cups.”
And so Duan Ling pours himself the penalty of three cups. Yelü Zongzhen watches him smilingly, his eyes quite filled with approval.
“I wonder why, but the moment I saw Duan Ling’s face I thought it felt like our destinies are truly linked.” Yelü Zongzhen says to Han Jieli, “I’m unusually fond of him.”
“Shouldn’t you get down and thank His Majesty already?” Han Jieli says.
Duan Ling is about to take a step forward and kowtow but Yelü Zongzhen waves the idea off. “Us Khitans are not into that sort of thing. Go have some food. You don’t need to wait on us anymore.”
Duan Ling knows that Yelü Zongzhen has finished saying what he’s come to say, and so he steps out and closes the door, leaving the three of them inside while he walks down the corridor to a side room. Melodic flute music drifts toward him, soft and indistinct. It’s Joyful Reunion again. Duan Ling can’t help but recall the day he came here with his father.
He follows the sound of the flute and finds a small two-storey building amongst the pine and bamboo; it happens to be the very same one he stayed in on the first day Lang Junxia brought him to Shangjing.
Xunchun is sitting on a stone chair, her red dress fanned out around her on the ground as she plays the flute, in no hurry to get to the end. Duan Ling stops, and stands there watching. She’s playing this song to summon him; it’s a signal only they know about. Before long, the music grows gradually quieter, until it fades into nothingness.
A full moon hangs overhead, illuminating the mortal world below.
Duan Ling’s fingertips pinches the edge of his letter, and he hands it to her. A maid comes over and takes it from him.
He was going to spare a few sentences to relate Shangjing’s situation, but given his father’s intellect, even if Duan Ling doesn’t tell him anything, he’d be able to guess.
“The first time I saw you on that winter night you were still asleep. It was six years ago, wasn’t it? Though I was able to make a rough guess at your identity, I wasn’t able to tell at the time. The second time I saw you was in the carriage. You came in and called me ‘madam’.”
Duan Ling watches Xunchun quietly without a word.
Xunchun heaves a sigh. “This feeling you give off is truly resembling his Third Highness more and more.”
Duan Ling already has a man’s voice, and over the past year and a half, he’s grown quite a bit taller. His eyes are fixed on Xunchun, considering her. “If you choose to meddle this time and shift the blame to Yelü Dashi, the Han family will end up controlling the northern administration. Han Weiyong is hawkish, and if Liao’s armies go on the march, the south will be in imminent danger. Madam, keep in mind that you mustn’t do anything rashly — think thrice before you act.”
Duan Ling finishes, then he gives Xunchun a respectful bow. Xunchun immediately gets up to return the gesture, but Duan Ling doesn’t say anything more before he leaves.
Wine flows freely inside the parlour as food is shared; they drink for a while longer until each leaves the room to board their respective carriages. Yelü Dashi is the first one to go, leaving behind Han Jieli and Yelü Zongzhen.
“I’ll take you home,” Yelü Zongzhen says to Duan Ling, then he turns to tell Han Jieli, “Subject Han, you may go.”
The carriage proceeds along the late night avenues. Yelü Zongzhen is a little bit tipsy, and he doesn’t say anything along the way; he remains silent the whole time until they’re just outside Duan Ling’s door.
“What kind of tree is this?”
As Duan Ling descends the carriage, Yelü Zongzhen happens to spot a branch sticking out from above the courtyard walls.
“It’s a peach tree, Your Majesty.”
“In your Han’s eyes everything is so beautiful.” The corner of Yelü Zongzhen’s mouth is turned up in a slight curl. “Peach trees tender and lush, how brilliant their blossoms.”3
Duan Ling gives him a smile.
Yelü Zongzhen adds, “Go on home then.”
Duan Ling bows to him and steps off the carriage. Yelü Zongzhen hasn’t said anything on their way here, but contrary to awkwardness, it’s the kind of silence which signals a tacit understanding they share. The moment he’s home again Duan Ling lets out a long breath. The only thing he feels is: it’s so exhausting.
All the information that is said and others that remain unsaid spin into a whirlpool of thoughts; it’s come too quickly, and it’s left him little time to think through it all in detail. He suspects Yelü Zongzhen never had much hope to begin with, and only once Duan Ling took Han Jieli out of the parlour did he decide on the future path that Liao and Chen will follow.
Thinking, he walks through the gate. As he reaches the courtyard he suddenly hears a soft, barely audible noise.
If this was before, he may have thought it merely a cat walking along the top of the wall, but this light noise has given him cause for alarm — it is the sound of an assassin stepping onto a roof tile, using their internal force to make a leap. When Li Jianhong took him along, and they travelled along the rooftops, he’d occasionally make a sound just like that.
“Who’s there?” Duan Ling says grimly.
The noise has vanished. Perhaps it’s out of instinct, but Duan Ling immediately grabs his sword from the courtyard and comes out onto the street again to run after Yelü Zongzhen’s carriage!
Assassin! He spies a dark shadow, the sight followed by a few more faint noises; the coachman is shot through the neck, then killed with a sword. The assassin thrusts his sword into the carriage, but Yelü Zongzhen has already hopped out through the window. The assassin dashes forward. With a flick of his long sword, Yelü Zongzhen’s weapon goes flying!
Duan Ling hesitates no more. Leaping into the air he hops onto a stone lion, flips over the wall, and drops into the courtyard next to the street.
Yelü Zongzhen had run off as soon as he landed, and in the next move the assassin thrust his sword at his back.
A gate to the side of them opens suddenly, and a sword comes sweeping out — right onto the assassin’s blade, pushing it out of the way just enough that it misses to graze Yelü Zongzhen’s neck. With one hand, Duan Ling made that thrust with his sword, and with the other he pulled Yelü Zongzhen by the arm towards himself, switching their positions and putting Yelü Zongzhen behind him.
In a split second decision Duan Ling makes a move that’s tantamount to trading his life for the masked assassin’s.
Duan Ling points his sword towards the assassin’s throat, but the masked man4 suddenly drops his sword and pushes out a palm instead; Duan Ling puts all of his strength behind his palm, turns to his side and strikes back, but to his surprise the masked man backs away just as they’re about to touch, and redirects all the force Duan Ling is throwing into the move to the side. Duan Ling immediately loses his balance and falls bodily onto the ground.
“Who’s there?!” All of a sudden, people are rushing out from every direction, fanning out in a circle around Duan Ling and Yelü Zongzhen.
The masked man doesn’t stay for a difficult fight, and leaping up the wall, vanishes into the night.
“Duan Ling!” Yelü Zongzhen steps forward and pulls Duan Ling to his feet. Duan Ling stumbles, and turns to look all around him.
“Who was that? I heard something outside the door earlier and ran over to see what was happening.”
Yelü Zongzhen shakes his head, and worried that there may be another ambush nearby he asks the four bodyguards dressed in black, “Who do you serve?”
The bodyguards kneel down in a circle around them. One of them says, “Northern Administration. When Your Majesty exited the Viburnum earlier, one of the Han family’s people were following you to try to figure out where you were going. I was thus momentarily delayed stopping the scout from the Han family, and arrived one step too late. A thousand apologies.”
“Go back and inform your prince. Clean up this area.” Once Yelü Zongzhen finishes giving instructions to the guards, he tells Duan Ling quietly, “Don’t let anyone know about this.”
Duan Ling nods. Yelü Zongzhen nods back, signaling to Duan Ling do not worry with his eyes before he goes.
I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
Three cups as per the rules of the Jingu Garden. ↩︎
Peach trees tender and lush, how brilliant their blossoms is the first line of a folk song sung in a wedding procession as they carry the bride’s palanquin to the groom’s house. ↩︎
The text very carefully avoids using any gendered pronouns here, but “masked person” sounds terrible, and also, it’s a man; you’ve seen this particular redirection move before. (This is information the audience possesses but Duan Ling does not.) ↩︎
