FYM - 137

She rarely displayed such clingy behavior, but this time, it was clear she was being affectionate with him. Fang Xianting’s heart softened as he recalled their past moments in Qiantang. A flood of emotions overwhelmed him, and his embrace grew gentler.

“We won’t be apart,” he murmured soothingly. “Once the situation stabilizes in a few days, I’ll come to see you.”

The situation…

She sighed again, burrowing deeper into his arms. Their night of abandon had been fleeting, and now, as the dew-like pleasure dissipated, she couldn’t help but confront the recent turmoil at court and among the people. The twenty blows he had endured might have quelled the neutral faction’s immediate outrage, but they had done little to appease the fury of the Luoyang faction—Wei Bi and Fan Yucheng had already changed their tune. Though they no longer demanded Lord Fang’s execution, they insisted on stripping him of his titles and honors as punishment, their ambition for power now brazenly exposed.

He understood her difficulties, and the movements within the court were all within his expectations. As he gently tied the sashes of her dress, he spoke to her calmly: “Court politics are full of advances and retreats. You’ve seen this many times over the years. The Luoyang faction knows they cannot strip me of my titles, so their posturing is merely an attempt to seize control of the Fang clan’s military power.”

His insight was sharp, and his steady tone helped her regain composure. She nodded slightly before asking, “But what about the military power…?”

Warfare is a matter of life and death, a path to survival or ruin. She knew the Fang clan did not crave power; with him around, even if there were discontent within the clan, it could be suppressed. But once the military power was reclaimed, to whom should it be handed? The Luoyang faction sought to claim it, and her maternal Song clan might also covet it. Inevitably, disputes would arise, leading to bloodshed.

“It doesn’t need to be given to anyone.”

It was as though he had already seen through her thoughts, his confident tone suggesting he had long devised a plan.

“Currently, you only control the imperial guards. After I leave the court, you will inevitably face pressure from others. I will leave the Shenlue Army under your command. With it, many things will be easier to handle in the future.”

Ah.

The Shenlue Army…

That was the elite force of Yingchuan, with a troop count of at least eighty thousand. It had always answered directly to the Fang clan’s master. Now…

“How can that be?”

She was startled, shaking her head and refusing immediately.

“That’s the Fang clan’s personal army—it’s meant to accompany you on campaigns. I’ll be fine in Jinling. With Second Brother and the two generals from the Lou family here, you need them more than I do. This absolutely cannot…”

She was flustered, speaking faster than usual. He smiled faintly, reaching out to gently smooth her slightly disheveled hair.

“The Luoyang faction has finally found fault with me, and they won’t let this matter rest easily. Right now, Jinling cannot fall into chaos. Surrendering the Shenlue Army’s command is the most effective solution.”

He patiently explained.

“Jiang Chao achieved great merit in Youzhou this time and deserves recognition and rewards from the court. In my opinion, we can establish a new office outside the Three Departments and promote him to the position of Grand Commander, directly under your and His Majesty’s command. This way, all military matters can be decided by you without being constrained by the Luoyang and Jinling factions.”

“Additionally, new governors must be appointed for the two southern garrisons. If you don’t have other suitable candidates, you can send my eldest brother, Fang Yuncong, to lead troops there. However, this appointment can remain unannounced for now and be issued after I’m released and reinstated.”

His voice remained calm and methodical. Only then did she realize that this man had already planned several steps ahead—when had it begun? After returning to Jinling? Or… before heading south?

She was somewhat stunned, watching him smooth the creases on her skirt while silently thinking rapidly. Currently, the Three Departments were divided between two factions, which was unfavorable for her and the young emperor to consolidate power. If they could establish an independent office outside the central government, military affairs could bypass the other ministers. Jiang Chao, a member of Fang Xianting’s maternal clan, would undoubtedly serve her faithfully according to his wishes. But considering his relationship with the Fang clan… would Wei Bi and Fan Yucheng allow him to retain military power?

“Therefore, in the future, we may need to put on some performances for outsiders,” he seemed to possess extraordinary insight, able to discern her thoughts with just a glance at her eyes. “The harmony between the imperial family and the Fang clan… may not last forever.”

His words carried deep implications, leaving her momentarily stunned. After a long moment of contemplation, she finally grasped his meaning: though the two of them trusted each other with their lives, outsiders were unaware of their true relationship. Indeed, when the Empress Dowager had first taken control behind the curtain, Lord Fang had punished the son of Prince Yinping to protect her. But now that she had gradually secured her footing in court, how could she not be wary of an overbearing minister who dared to mobilize troops without her consent?

If she were to seize control of the Shenlue Army now, others would surely assume there was discord between them. Handing power over to Jiang Chao could be justified as a temporary measure—after all, Lord Fang’s authority and dominance were formidable. How could he easily tolerate the imperial family taking away the elite forces of Yingchuan? It was necessary to make concessions through his maternal clan for the time being, allowing tensions to ease over time.

Moreover, this approach had another advantage—now that they had crossed forbidden boundaries and committed acts against propriety, pretending to be estranged would help conceal their secret connection from prying eyes…

Seeing her expression shift several times, he knew she was beginning to understand the intricacies of the situation. Her intelligence and composure were endearing, and she appeared more composed than before. He gave a faint smile, finishing dressing her before turning to put on his own clothes. Casually, he added, “Coincidentally, there are still forty blows of the sixty strokes decreed in court left unpaid. In the coming days, you should send someone to complete the count.”

…Complete it?

This was actually an excellent plan. If she ordered the remaining forty strokes to be carried out, the ministers would immediately believe she harbored resentment toward him. Yet the muffled thuds of the previous flogging still echoed in her ears, and the bloody wounds on his back had yet to heal. She truly couldn’t bear it…

Song Shuyan’s expression froze, and like a startled cat, she quickly raised her head. The next moment, she suddenly threw herself into his arms, tightly clutching his shoulders and neck. Her gaze fell upon his white robe, already stained with blood.

“I won’t allow it—”

Her voice rose sharply, trembling as if on the verge of tears.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore!”

—How could she be so unreasonable and ungrateful?

Everything he had done was for her. Had he chosen otherwise, he could have accepted the marriage proposal from the daughter of Prince Yinping. He wouldn’t have had to fight the southern campaign, bear the stigma of being an overbearing minister, or relinquish the Shenlue Army’s command! And now, to gain everyone’s trust, he had to endure another forty lashes. She… she…

He understood her anguish and was touched by her protectiveness, but the situation was what it was. Every step they took from now on would be fraught with danger—they couldn’t afford to lose. At the very least, they couldn’t afford any carelessness within their control.

“Shuyan, listen to me…”

He sighed, his left hand gently stroking her silken, jet-black hair.

“Court matters are no trivial matter, especially when military power is involved. Someone must pave the way for Jiang Chao, and public opinion regarding the relationship between the Fang clan and the imperial family must also change.”

“Our bond isn’t about fleeting moments… I can’t gamble with your life.”

The gloomy prison was cold and desolate, the frosty chill of late autumn biting deeply. Song Shuyan nestled in his warm embrace, as if shielded from all storms under heaven and earth. Her eyes were already red, and she suddenly realized she was reverting to an old habit from her youth—she always cried easily in his presence, as if she suddenly couldn’t handle anything.

“Then don’t…”

She continued shaking her head stubbornly. He gently touched her cheek with the back of his hand and coaxed her again: “These wounds look severe, but they’re only minor injuries to the flesh… Surely the Imperial Medical Office has informed you as well. Do you still not believe it?”

She had indeed inquired carefully about his condition, and the physicians confirmed that his bones were intact. However, earlier that night, when he first entered the Censorate Prison, his complexion had been rather pale. Now, it had improved somewhat…

She pursed her lips and fell silent. He recognized this as a sign of compromise and leaned down to place a comforting kiss on her forehead. Teasingly, he said, “If you’re still uneasy, you can call your second brother. He knows how to read the room, and his skills are commendable.”

This time, she was successfully coaxed into a soft laugh, her tearful eyes particularly endearing. He gazed at her for a moment, unable to resist pulling her into another deep kiss. His partially undone white robe opened further, and their passion grew uncontrollably, catching both of them off guard.

“Yingying…”

She heard him whisper in her ear, his usually low and stern voice now laced with a hint of intoxicating allure. The intimate nickname stirred her heart like ripples in a pond, igniting heat throughout her body. Amidst her daze, she suddenly noticed some trivial details—for instance, he had called her “Shuyan” while discussing matters, but now he reverted to “Yingying,” reminiscent of how he addressed her during their most intimate moments at night…

“Third Brother…”

She gasped for breath under his kisses, teetering on the brink of falling into another reckless dream. Alas, he regained his composure first, glancing outside at the sky. He knew it was time for her to leave.

“Go back…”

He reluctantly released her, but his deep gaze remained entwined with hers.

“…Don’t be late.”

She was still somewhat dazed, lost in his tender gaze and unable to pull away. After a while, the intensity of their emotions began to subside. The hardest thing in the world, she realized, was parting from this person before her. Compared to the girl who had bid farewell to her lover in Qiantang ten years ago, she had made no progress at all.

“I understand…”

She felt a tinge of frustration as she pulled away from his embrace, a mix of unease and petulance in her heart. As she rose to leave, her legs suddenly gave way, and an indescribable soreness caused her to stumble. Fortunately, he swiftly caught her from behind, pulling her securely back into his arms. His broad palms radiated warmth, and his muffled chuckle made her blush deeply, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“…Let go.”

She wriggled awkwardly, though inwardly, she wished to remain in his embrace forever. He understood her thoughts, carefully adjusting her hood once more and placing another kiss on her neck.

“Don’t worry about me, and don’t let me worry too much…”

His love was always restrained and subtle, even in moments of parting, maintaining a careful and controlled demeanor. Only their shadows, cast by the moonlight onto the withered grass, were shamelessly intertwined, like a gentle snow breeze cradling the fragrant pistils of plum blossoms. Even if the world denied it, the plum blossoms would bloom recklessly in their beloved season.

“…I will come to see you soon.”

He whispered a promise to her.