Chapter Text
Xue Dingfei was finally happy, or as happy as he could be. He was in the capital, far away from Lord Pingnan, where he could drink, gamble and fuck around. This was his dream.
As always, Lord Pingnan was playing his men against each other. But this had an advantage. The men who might be able to scare Xue Dingfei into submission—Gongyi Cheng and Dujun—didn’t know he was here. Huang Qian didn’t dare touch him.
Of course, there was a price attached to his relative freedom. Lord Pingnan had given Xue Dingfei a letter, written by Marquis Yan Mu. He was supposed to ensure that it was delivered to Xue Yuan, to sow discord in the capital. Xue Dingfei had a bad feeling about this mission. No one could find Gongyi Cheng, including his own men. Attacking the Yans was a sure-fire way of provoking Dujun’s ire. It seemed likely that Dujun had forced Gongyi Cheng to go to ground.
As far as Xue Dingfei was concerned, they could all burn in Hell: the Shens, the Yans, and the Xues.
He gave the letter from Marquis Yan to someone else. The recipient was a particularly stupid underling of Gongyi Cheng, but that didn’t matter. The important thing was that he was no longer responsible for what happened to it now. That letter was a hot potato, which should be tossed to someone else as quickly as possible before it burned him.
Eventually reality bit, as it always did. As he was gambling, four men surrounded him. They would not say who had sent them, but Xue Dingfei had his suspicions. He spared a moment to feel extremely glad that he’d divested himself of the letter.
At Xie Mansion, Xue Dingfei was honest about what he’d done with Yan Mu’s letter; his “twin’s” small but fanatically dedicated band of henchmen would have no hesitation in “eliminating” him if Xie Wei gave the order. The man to whom Xue Dingfei had given the letter would be dead within days, if not hours, not that he cared.
Xue Dingfei went back to his dissolute ways after Xie Wei let him go; this was the only way he had to escape. It was easier if he didn’t have to think about Gongyi Cheng, Dujun or Lord Pingnan.
He was disturbed by the discovery that Feng Mingyu had explosives, and resentful that Lord Pingnan had not chosen to let him into the secret. He was always left out; an afterthought. He passed it on to Dujun. If Lord Pingnan wanted to play off his men, Xue Dingfei could play his own small games.
He only registered with half an ear that Yan Mu and his son were being exiled. There had been some controversy at Yan Lin’s coming of age, involving the Xues. The wretched letter seemed to have disappeared altogether, along with Gongyi Cheng’s men. He suspected (without knowing for sure) that Dujun had “eliminated” them. As long as Dujun didn’t eliminate him…
To keep Dujun on side, when Xue Dingfei was asked to do so, he told Huang Qian that Gongyi Cheng had been captured and was being held by the Xingwu Guards. He had no idea if this was true or not—he suspected it was another one of Dujun’s labyrinthine plots—but he didn’t really care, as long as Dujun kept off his back.
On the evening when Huang Qian and his people stormed the prison to find Gongyi Cheng, Xue Dingfei decided to have fun, now his minders were absent. He was sure Dujun would have some tiresome instructions for him, later, but for now, he’d enjoy himself.
In the early hours of the morning, Xie Wei barged into his room. “Dingfei! I need you!” Then he looked at Hong Jian, who was huddled fearfully next to Xue Dingfei. “Scram!”
Hong Jian took one look at Xie Wei, pulled her nightgown around her, and ran out as fast as she could.
Xue Dingfei was annoyed and slightly hungover. “What are you doing here? What’s going on? You woke me up!”
Even in the candlelight, Xie Wei was visibly pale and drawn. “I need your help.”
Xue Dingfei yawned. “Huang Qian found Gongyi Cheng, and they’re going to kill you? It was always a risk, Ju’an—”
“Gongyi Cheng is dead.” A nasty smile spread across Xie Wei’s face. Xue Dingfei had always wondered when Lord Pingnan’s habit of playing his men off against each other would turn deadly. Now he had his answer.
In any case, he was suddenly as wide awake and alert as if Xie Wei had tossed cold water over him. If he were any judge, the personality he privately called “Dujun” was currently in control of his twin. Xue Dingfei didn’t mind either “Dingfei” or “Ju’an”, even if he’d never have sought their company. Dujun was the one he hated and feared: the cruel, insane arsehole created by Lord Pingnan’s torture.
“But they’ve just gone to rescue Gongyi Cheng…?”
Xie Wei nodded. “This was my plan. I have persuaded a junior official called Zhang Zhe, from the Ministry of Justice, to pose as Dujun and to infiltrate the rebels in the prison. He’ll tell them that Gongyi Cheng is dead, and that Gongyi Cheng and his men leaked certain secrets to the government. They’ll run back to Tongzhou…”
“What the fuck?” said Xue Dingfei. “Why did you ask someone to pose as you?”
“I want to know what Feng Mingyu plans to do with those explosives. However, I’m too well known as the Junior State Preceptor to undertake this myself. Mr Zhang is keen to advance himself, and so—”
Xue Dingfei shrugged. “Sounds like you have it all planned, as usual. Why would you need my help?”
“Something unexpected happened.” Xie Wei paused. “Tonight, during the prison break, Huang Qian kidnapped a woman. There’s a risk that this will expose Zhang Zhe.”
Xue Dingfei nodded. “Who is this woman? Do we know?”
“Jiang Xuening, Second Young Lady of Jiang Mansion.” Xie Wei paused, racked by coughs, and then said haltingly, almost painfully, “She was at the prison to farewell Yan Lin.”
The picture became clearer. “Ahhhh. This girl is Yan Lin’s fiancée?”
Xie Wei shook his head, and his eyes burned with a strange light. “No. Miss Jiang is my student, and Yan Lin’s best friend. I have promised her father that I’ll rescue her. I’ll follow you.”
Xue Dingfei had never known Dujun to be selfless before. There must be some ulterior motive, perhaps linked to Miss Jiang’s father. He suddenly recalled that a Lord Jiang had been Xie Wei’s initial contact at court. “Xie Ju’an… Are you sure you should be travelling, when you’re ill? It’s cold.”
Xie Wei ignored his question. “Just go as soon as you can and confirm Zhang Zhe’s identity. I’ll send any further instructions via Xiao Bao.”
Xie Wei’s henchmen, Jian Shu and Dao Qin were waiting outside. They bristled with distrust and anger, even more than usual. He thought that they agreed with him that Xie Wei should not be travelling, but they weren’t going to openly agree with him, on principle. They’d always disliked Xue Dingfei, maybe because they saw him as an inadequate shadow of their master.