Why Does Mr. Xie Favor Me? Chapter 11
byChapter 11 Warmth of a Cat in a Quiet Courtyard
Let You Be
The carriage swayed rhythmically before coming to a halt in front of the familiar manor.
As the servants stepped forward to tend to the horses, Xie Heng was the first to descend. He had already removed his veiled hat, and the slight air of relaxation he had found in the mountains had quietly vanished, replaced by his usual domestic serenity.
Xiao Jue followed behind him, still clutching the red leaf engraved with the word Xiao. His fingertips unconsciously brushed against the veins of the leaf, his heart still warmed by the lingering scent of tea and the sunlight from the mountain peak.
He was lost in his own thoughts, recalling how Xie Heng had defended him against Wang Zhaoruo with a calm yet weighty resolve.
With his mind elsewhere and his eyes seeing nothing, he had just stepped over the threshold when his guard dropped.
A snowy-white blur suddenly darted out with a gust of wind from behind the spirit screen inside the gate. It lunged straight for Xiao Jue’s feet with unerring precision.
Despite his prowess on the battlefield and his alertness toward hidden arrows, Xiao Jue was startled by this sudden assault. His muscles tightened instantly, and with a low shout, he held his unsheathed longsword horizontally before him. He retreated half a step, dropping into a defensive stance.
When he finally saw the white blur clearly, a look of sheer bewilderment flashed across his face, followed by an embarrassed, wry smile.
Snowball! Xie Nanqiao’s cry followed as she ran out, clutching her skirts. Seeing the scene, she doubled over with laughter. Oh my, our great General Xiao is actually drawing his sword against a little cat!
Xie Heng had already walked a few paces into the courtyard, but he turned back at the sound. He saw Xiao Jue quickly relaxing after his moment of high alert, while Snowball, having succeeded in its ambush, did not run away. Instead, the cat sat nearby, elegantly licking its paws and squinting its green eyes at Xiao Jue with an air of arrogant pride that seemed to say, Scared you, didn’t I?
A faint trace of amusement flickered in Xie Heng’s eyes, and the corners of his mouth curved ever so slightly.
This little thing is becoming increasingly undisciplined, Xie Heng said calmly, his voice devoid of real reproach. He walked over, leaned down, and reached out to Snowball. The cat immediately let out a meow and rubbed against his palm, becoming a completely different creature from the one that had just attacked.
Xiao Jue finally regained his composure and sheathed his sword. Rubbing his nose awkwardly, he said, I didn’t expect Brother Snowball to be here to welcome me.
He pointedly used the word welcome to try and salvage some of his dignity.
Xie Nanqiao finished laughing and walked over to pick up Snowball, poking its nose. You, you always pick the moment General Xiao is off guard to cause trouble. She then turned to Xiao Jue. It must have smelled the scent of mountain greenery on you and followed the trail. This cat has a very sharp nose.
Xiao Jue instinctively sniffed his own sleeve. Aside from dust and a very faint scent of sweat, there seemed to be nothing special. On the other hand, Xie Heng always seemed to carry a faint fragrance that was a mix of old books and pine ink.
Let us go in, Xie Heng said, straightening up. He carried the cat as he turned to walk further inside, his tone casual. A trip to the mountains is exhausting for everyone. Nanqiao, have the kitchen prepare some light soup.
He turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the bandage on Xiao Jue’s hand, which might have started bleeding again due to his sudden movements. Remember to have the manor’s physician look at the wound on your hand again.
Yes, Xiao Jue replied, following him in. As he passed the spirit screen, he couldn’t help but look at Snowball, who was nestled in Xie Heng’s arms and looking back at him.
Why did that look seem like a provocation?
Xiao Jue was truly bored. He finally caught an opportunity to crouch under the ginkgo tree in the courtyard, attempting to use a piece of foxtail grass to tease Snowball, who was looking down at him from the rockery.
General Xiao, are you practicing your swordplay or playing with a cat? Xie Heng asked without looking up from his chess game with Xie Nanqiao on the porch.
Xiao Jue scratched his head and said seriously, I am sparring with this feline brother. Look at him—his footwork is light, his gaze is sharp; he truly has the air of a master.
Before he could finish, Snowball flicked its tail and leaped down gracefully. It landed precisely on the chessboard, leaving a trail of plum-blossom paw prints that ruined the game. Then, it strolled over to Xie Nanqiao’s feet and rubbed against her.
Xie Heng looked at the ruined game and allowed a rare, helpless smile to touch his lips as he reached down to stroke Snowball’s head.
Seeing that Snowball was ignoring him, Xiao Jue felt bored but couldn’t stay idle. Aside from watching Xie Heng play chess or practice calligraphy, he found a new task: tending to the few pots of orchids that were on the verge of dying.
Pushe, do you think this soil needs loosening? Xiao Jue held a small trowel with a serious expression, but his movements were clumsy. He nearly severed a root.
Xie Heng gathered the chess pieces and sighed. General Xiao, those are orchids, not a battle trench. Stop what you are doing and let me handle it. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing pale, slender wrists, and took the trowel. His movements were gentle and meticulous.
Xiao Jue watched from the side, feeling that the way those hands moved through the soil and leaves showed a different kind of strength than when they held a brush.
Just then, the old steward, Uncle Cheng, hurried over with a grave expression. He whispered, Master, the gatekeeper said there was suspicious movement near the base of the eastern wall, as if someone was spying. I have already sent men to investigate quietly.
Xie Heng set down the small trowel, and the soil from the orchid roots fell back into the pot. He took a plain cloth from the side and slowly wiped his fingertips. His movements showed no sign of panic, as if Uncle Cheng had reported a forecast of rain rather than a breach of security.
Spying? Xiao Jue stood up instantly, his casual air vanishing as he glared toward the eastern wall. Should I go…
No need, Xie Heng interrupted, folding the cloth and placing it on the stone table. If General Xiao were to patrol the walls with a sword right now, it would be exactly what some people want.
He looked at Uncle Cheng, his voice flat but unquestionable. Proceed as usual. Everything in the manor remains the same. Let the cleaning and the shopping continue as planned.
Having said that, he returned to his study and asked no more questions.
In the evening, when the aroma of roasted meat wafted from the kitchen, Xiao Jue was nowhere to be found.
Xie Heng continued to practice his calligraphy as usual. His brush hovered over the line from the Petition Against the Expulsion of Foreigners: Mount Tai does not reject the soil, hence it can grow so great. He hesitated to lower the brush. Outside the window, Xie Nanqiao’s crisp voice could be heard scolding a maid for sweeping the ginkgo leaves too cleanly: Leaving some of the golden yellow on the ground makes it look better. My brother speaks of the literature of heaven and earth—do you not understand?
His brush paused, and he simply set it down.
Uncle Cheng.
The old servant appeared silently at the door with a bow.
Where is Xiao Jue?
General Xiao has gone out through the eastern side gate. He changed into coarse clothes and carried a peddler’s shoulder pole, Uncle Cheng said tonelessly.
What was in the peddler’s pack?
Needles, thread, rouge, powder, and… Uncle Cheng paused. He also stuffed in a few popular romance novels. The covers were Secret Records of the Mandarin Ducks, but the insides were replaced with maps of the Northern Frontier.
Xie Heng looked up, a slight frown appearing between his brows. Fine, I understand.
It is just… Uncle Cheng hesitated. General Xiao’s stature and aura make him stand out far too much as a peddler. If he starts shouting his wares in the street, I fear it might cause trouble that could implicate you.
Xie Heng thought of Xiao Jue’s posture, as straight as a pine tree, and the calluses from his blade on his palms, yet he was trying to pitch rouge and powder in a high-pitched voice. A very faint smile appeared on Xie Heng’s face. It is no matter. Let him be.
He knew that if there was even the slightest disturbance, Xiao Jue would have to investigate it.
Sure enough, news arrived in the afternoon.
Uncle Cheng appeared silently again, this time holding a carrier pigeon. Tied to the bird’s leg was not a scroll of paper, but a small section of reed stained dark red.
This came from Mr. Su at the Bamboo Listening Pavilion in the south of the city, Uncle Cheng whispered. General Xiao got into a fight at the mule market in the west of the city.
Xie Heng was brewing tea, the water flowing steadily into the white porcelain cup. Why?
A clerk from a labor agency insisted on buying the rouge from his pack, saying his wife loved that particular scent. General Xiao refused to sell, and when the clerk tried to take it by force, General Xiao twisted his arm out of its socket, Uncle Cheng recounted expressionlessly. A crowd gathered, and the neighborhood guards were alerted. General Xiao escaped in the chaos, leaving the peddler’s pack behind. The guards took it.
And the items in the pack?
The needles and thread were scattered everywhere. The books were picked up by a literate old scholar who flipped through them and began cursing publicly about moral decay and deceptive labeling before tearing the books apart.
The maps were naturally destroyed as well. Xie Heng nodded; this outcome was better than he had expected.
What about the clerk?
Mr. Su sent men to follow him. After getting bandaged, the clerk did not return to the labor agency. He took a winding route into Yongxing Ward and eventually entered the back gate of the Wang family’s villa.
Xie Heng blew on the tea foam and took a sip. The tea was Dragon Well picked before the rains, and the water was snow collected from plum blossoms last year—clear and sweet.
He set down the teacup. Tell Mr. Su there is no need to follow further. Have our people spend more time in Yongxing Ward lately, drinking tea and listening to music. Pay particular attention to the Wang family villa’s procurement carriages and see if they frequently purchase rouge and powder.
He paused. Also, have Xiao Jue return.
A sharp glint appeared in Uncle Cheng’s eyes. I understand.
Using hidden compartments in rouge and powder was an old but often effective way to pass messages. The Wang family’s reach was indeed long.
Xiao Jue’s fight had been worth it.
However, what truly broke this delicate balance was a secret letter.
That evening, as Xie Heng was leafing through local gazetteers, Uncle Cheng entered silently and placed a wax pill on the desk before retreating. The wax pill was tiny. When cracked open, it revealed a slip of paper as thin as a cicada’s wing. It bore only a few words: Wang Yu has gone to Danyang. Before reaching the plague zone, he entered the villa. The villa has a guest from the north.
There was no signature, but Xie Heng recognized the handwriting. it belonged to one of the few young men in the Danyang Xie villa who supported the land settlement reform.
For this letter to bypass the Wang family’s layers of surveillance and reach Guzang, it must have taken an immense effort.
A guest from the north… Xie Heng’s finger tapped on the desk. Danyang is in the north, and further north of that is…
His gaze suddenly sharpened.
Xiao Jue, he called out.
A moment later, Xiao Jue appeared at the study door, his hair still damp with sweat from his martial arts practice. Pushe?
Come in and close the door.
Xiao Jue did as he was told, his expression turning alert as he turned back. He noticed the melted wax on Xie Heng’s fingertip.
Look at this, Xie Heng said, pushing the slip of paper toward him.
Xiao Jue took it and scanned it quickly, his brows furrowing. A guest from the north… Could it be the Rouran? He immediately dismissed the idea. No, the Rouran have never had dealings with the Wang family. Could it be…
Their eyes met, and they spoke two words simultaneously: The Beifu Army.
Although the Beifu Army was nominally under the court’s control, they had been stationed at the border for a long time, frequently clashing with the Rouran and the Chile tribes. The power dynamics within the army were complex. If the Wang family was secretly conspiring with a faction of the Beifu Army to use the plague as an opportunity to infiltrate Danyang…
After General Zhou’s death, the Beifu Army camps fractured, Xiao Jue said in a low voice. Three factions are fighting for control. First are General Zhou’s old subordinates, led by Vice General Li Zhi, who advocate for holding the border. Second is the peace faction led by Advisor Zhao Qian, who has secret dealings with the Rouran tribes. The third faction… He paused. It is the most mysterious. They are few in number, but they are said to have backing from the palace.
The palace, Xie Heng repeated the words, recalling the faint smile in Noble Consort Zheng’s eyes back in the Xuanshi Hall. The Noble Consort came from the Zheng clan of Xingyang, and her mother’s family was the Wang clan of Langya.
The Wang family villa, the mysterious guest from the Beifu Army, and the palace backing, Xie Heng said slowly. If these three are connected, their goal is more than just obstructing the land settlement reform.
A chill ran down Xiao Jue’s spine. They want to use this opportunity to seize control of the Beifu Army?
Or perhaps something even further, Xie Heng said, walking to the window and looking out at the courtyard sinking into twilight. If the Beifu Army falls to the great clans, the Emperor will be left with only the Imperial Guards. At that point…
At that point, the imperial power would be hollowed out, the clans would grow dominant, and far more than just the land settlement reform would be lost—the entire political landscape would be overturned.
Outside the window, the autumn wind suddenly picked up, swirling the ginkgo leaves into the air.
In the following days, the Xie manor remained peaceful on the surface, but there was more movement in the shadows.
Xiao Jue began to leave the manor frequently, sometimes bringing back a bag of pastries, sometimes a jar of wine. Xie Heng never asked. Until one late night, Xiao Jue climbed back over the wall, the hem of his robe stained with blood.
He did not disturb anyone else and went straight to Xie Heng’s study.
When he pushed the door open, Xie Heng was looking at a map under the lamp. He looked up, his gaze falling on the bloodstained hem.
Did you run into trouble?
The Wang family’s men, Xiao Jue panted, his breath not yet steady. They were staking out a messenger from the Beifu Army in a dark alley in the west of the city. I wanted to intercept the letter, but they had an ambush.
Xie Heng set down the map and walked over to him. Where are you hurt?
A flesh wound, it is nothing. Xiao Jue avoided his searching gaze and pulled a blood-stained copper tube from his robe. I didn’t get the letter, but I managed to snatch this.
The copper tube was ordinary, but at the end, it bore a tiny insignia: a flying eagle encircling a sword.
The mark of the Eagle-Swaying Guard of the Beifu Army, Xiao Jue’s voice was heavy. They specialize in assassinations and intelligence. When General Zhou was alive, the Eagle-Swaying Guard reported directly to him. Now, it has actually fallen into the hands of outsiders…
Xie Heng took the copper tube, his thumb brushing over the eagle pattern. Is the messenger dead?
The Wang family’s men silenced him as I was escaping, Xiao Jue gritted his teeth. They are more ruthless than I thought.
Silence filled the study.
Go change your medicine, Xie Heng finally said. This matter ends here. Do not leave the manor for the next few days.
Xiao Jue looked up. But…
The Wang family is already alert, Xie Heng interrupted. You were lucky to escape today. You might not be next time.
He turned and took a small celadon bottle from a display shelf. Golden sore ointment. It is better than what they have in the army.
Xiao Jue took the bottle, the cool porcelain clearing his head slightly. He looked at Xie Heng’s back and suddenly asked, You expected me to take the risk, didn’t you, Pushe?
Xie Heng did not turn around. You are impulsive and value loyalty. You would not sit by while General Zhou’s old subordinates are in trouble.
Then why did you not stop me?
I could not stop you, Xie Heng’s voice was very soft. Some paths must be walked by oneself to know their depth.
Xiao Jue gripped the porcelain bottle tightly. After a long silence, he whispered, I was indeed reckless today. If I had been captured, I would have implicated you.
It is good that you know, Xie Heng finally turned around, his gaze falling on the young man’s regretful face. Xiao Jue, you must remember that a blade breaks easily not because it is not sharp enough, but because it is always too eager to cut through everything. A true blade must know when to hide its edge.
The young man stared at him blankly before suddenly dropping to one knee. Yes.
Xie Heng did not help him up, only saying, Go apply the medicine.
Xiao Jue stood and walked to the door, then turned back. Pushe, about the Eagle-Swaying Guard…
I will handle it, Xie Heng said, picking up the map again. Since I was the one who founded the Beifu Army, I will not let it fall easily into the hands of others.
The lamplight cast his profile onto the window paper, his features as sharp as if carved.
Looking at that shadow, Xiao Jue suddenly felt that these three months of being confined to this small space for reflection had perhaps never been about retreating.
By the time this realization became clear to him, the period of confinement had ended, and the first snow of the year had fallen upon Guzang.