Why Does Mr. Xie Favor Me? Chapter 19
byChapter 19: Treacherous Winds and Clouds
A lone general leads his cavalry through the frost.
On the night before the expedition, the side gate of the Xie Mansion’s rear garden opened quietly. A vigorous figure, blending perfectly into the night, slipped inside without alerting any of the guards stationed in the open.
Uncle Cheng had long been waiting under the corridor. He silently led the visitor through the hushed courtyard toward the study.
Xiao Jue removed his cloak, which was damp with night dew. He wore dark, form-fitting attire that emphasized his broad shoulders and straight back. His brow carried the weight of days of planning and the murderous aura of the impending campaign.
He stood in the center of the study, his gaze locking onto the solitary figure of Xie Heng beneath the lamp like a hawk. Without any pleasantries, he spoke with the directness of a blade: “Minister Xie.”
His voice was low but every word was crystal clear. “The grain at Black Wind Valley was intercepted, Xu Shuhuai has been suspended pending impeachment, and the matter of Wang Zhaoruo has forced me to carry a criminal charge into battle. Did you already foresee all of this when you recommended me and insisted on the Northern Frontier expedition?”
The air in the study suddenly froze. The candle flame flickered, casting Xie Heng’s face in alternating light and shadow.
Xie Heng slowly set down the military report in his hand and looked up to meet Xiao Jue’s scrutinizing gaze. Deep within those eyes, which were usually cold and self-contained, complex shadows now swirled.
He did not immediately deny it, nor did he admit it. Silence stretched between them, carrying more weight than any words could.
It was a long time before Xie Heng spoke, his voice carrying a trace of imperceptible fatigue and raspiness. “I foresaw that the path of the Northern Frontier expedition would be obstructed. The backlash from the great families and their hidden arrows were within my expectations. I also foresaw that appointing a general from a commoner background would cause an uproar, placing both of us at the eye of the storm.”
He stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the impenetrable darkness. His back was straight yet solitary. “But I did not expect the storm to intensify so abruptly in this manner—binding the Wang family’s personal grudge against you with their public outrage against the expedition and the rise of the commoners. It has created this nearly irreversible situation we face today.”
Xiao Jue’s jaw tightened, and his fists clenched silently within his sleeves. Xie Heng’s honesty was more stifling to his heart than any evasion would have been.
This meant that the “atonement through service” he carried today was, to some extent, indeed the result of being swept into a higher-level chess game, becoming a pawn in the gamble.
“So, my departure this time is called a surprise maneuver, but in reality, am I a discarded pawn?” Xiao Jue’s voice turned cold, sharp with questioning. “Using my life to stir up the Northern Frontier, to test the Wang family’s bottom line, and to pave the way for a true subsequent offensive? Or perhaps even using my sacrifice to exchange for the Emperor’s more thorough liquidation of the great families, clearing the path for your and Xu Shuhuai’s reforms?”
This accusation was sharp and cruel, nearly tearing away the facade of warmth and trust to reveal the cold political calculations beneath.
Xie Heng turned around abruptly. For the first time, visible anger and pain burned in his usually calm eyes. He took several steps back toward Xiao Jue until they were so close their breaths were almost audible.
“Xiao Jue,” he said, his voice not loud but infused with great power. “If I viewed you as a discarded pawn, why would I exhaust my efforts to save your life? I could have simply handed you over to the Wang family to deal with. Would that not have been cleaner, more effective at calming the anger of the nobility? That imperial decree for you to atone through service was something I knelt before the Emperor to beg for!”
His chest heaved slightly as he looked directly into the coldness and suspicion in Xiao Jue’s eyes. “Yes, I calculated the risks, I utilized the situation, and I may have even placed you in a more dangerous position to some extent. Because that was the only way for you to stay alive and continue to hold military power to build your legacy. The Northern Frontier expedition needs a vanguard, a blade that can pierce the defenses of the Northern Dynasty. In this entire court of high officials, who else but you could lead a lone army deep into enemy territory and complete the mission under these circumstances?”
Xie Heng’s voice dropped lower, becoming even heavier. “I admit, I took advantage of the Wang family’s attack to push you to the front lines, and I gambled with your life. But Xiao Jue, I ask you: if given the choice, would you rather stay in Guzang, wasting away until death under the weight of criminal charges, or would you rather seize this chance to fight for a future on the battlefield? To use the snows of the Northern Frontier and the blood of your enemies to wash away the stains on your name, and to carve out a path of blood for the commoner sons of our dynasty?”
Xiao Jue stared at him intently, looking into those eyes that always hid deep exhaustion but were now burning with a scorching fire. There was no hypocritical comfort there, only naked reality and an equally heavy choice.
The anger and coldness in Xiao Jue’s eyes slowly receded, replaced by something more complex. He suddenly twitched the corner of his mouth, revealing a nearly bitter smile. “You are always like this, Minister, laying out the worst possibilities and the heaviest burdens plainly before a person.”
He took a step forward, close enough to see his own reflection in Xie Heng’s eyes. His voice was pressed very low, carrying a desperate resolve. “Fine. Since you have put it that way, then I, Xiao Jue, will also put my words here. This life—this life you fought to win for me—I will take it to the Northern Frontier. I will complete the mission, I will return alive, and I will use military merit to shut everyone’s mouths. Not because you calculated against me, but because…”
He paused, his gaze searching deep into Xie Heng’s eyes, where emotions rolled like a tide, finally transforming into a resolute sentence laden with meaning: “I trust you. I trust that you are not one who views soldiers as mere grass or comrades as mere pawns. In today’s situation, even if you had your calculations, you surely had your own helplessness and your own bottom line. I, Xiao Jue, am willing to bet my life and trust you this once.”
He spoke those last few words slowly and heavily, as if using all his strength. It was not the obedience of a subordinate to a superior, but the collision and entrustment of two souls in a desperate situation.
Xie Heng’s pupils contracted. His heart felt as if it had been struck hard by that gaze and those words. A sharp bitterness and a surge of hot emotion welled up simultaneously.
His Adam’s apple moved as he tried to say something, but he found all words pale in that moment. Finally, he only said very softly, “I do not regret it either.”
I do not regret recommending you, I do not regret saving you, I do not regret entrusting such a heavy responsibility to you, and I do not regret standing with you at the eye of this storm.
Some things need not be stated clearly. Some trust, once broken and rebuilt, becomes even more indestructible.
Xiao Jue gave him a deep look, the churning emotions in his eyes finally settling into a calm determination.
He stepped back and cupped his hands in a standard military salute. “General Xiao Jue will not fail the mission. Please take care of yourself, Minister.”
With that, he stayed no longer. He turned and strode away, his figure quickly vanishing into the deep night outside the door, just as silently as he had arrived.
Xie Heng stood where he was, watching the direction in which he had disappeared, remaining motionless for a long time.
Three days later, before the sky had brightened, the city gates slowly groaned open, revealing the blurred outline of the official road outside.
Five thousand light cavalry were already lined up. Men and horses were silent; only the occasional snort of a warhorse condensed into white mist in the cold air.
The soldiers’ armor was dull and their expressions solemn. This was a lone army without clamor or fluttering banners.
Xiao Jue pulled his reins at the head of the column, clad in dark armor and a black robe, nearly merging with the night. He looked back one last time at the towering silhouette of Guzang, his gaze seemingly piercing through layers of buildings toward a certain direction.
Then, without further lingering, he clamped his legs against his horse’s flanks.
“Depart!”
The low command broke the silence before dawn. Five thousand iron riders moved like a silent black flood, pouring out of the city gate and quickly merging into the vast darkness of the north, the sound of hooves like muffled thunder fading into the distance.
At almost the same moment, on an inconspicuous high tower in the inner city, Xie Heng stood leaning against the railing. He wore only a plain inner robe with a dark cloak draped over it, his figure nearly overlapping with the shadows of the upturned eaves.
The morning wind was biting, blowing a few strands of hair across his forehead and bringing the final echo of hoofbeats from the distant North Gate.
He gazed as far as he could, his eyes seemingly chasing the army that had vanished into the darkness, yet also seemingly falling hollowly upon the line of grey-white light on the northern horizon that was about to break.
There was no expression on his face, save for the tightly pressed line of his lips and his fingers turning white as they gripped the cold railing, betraying the turbulent waves within his heart.
At that very moment, as the first light of dawn appeared, a manor that seemed peaceful sat deep in a valley shrouded in morning mist, a hundred li away from Guzang.
This was an inconspicuous secondary estate of the Langya Wang family, usually used only for storage and transit.
The main gates of the manor were tightly shut, but at the side gate, several heavily covered freight wagons were parked. Servants looked nervous, hurriedly moving heavy crates from the manor to load them onto the wagons.
Just then, a rapid and rhythmic sound of hoofbeats shattered the silence of the valley.
Dozens of men with blades at their waists surrounded a single person, charging like a sharp arrow straight to the manor gates, blocking all exits. The leader was none other than Xu Shuhuai, who was supposed to be suspended and reflecting behind closed doors in Guzang.
He was not wearing his official robes today, but a sharp set of blue-green riding attire with a matching cloak. His face showed none of the dejection of a demoted official; instead, his brow carried a cold sharpness and a nearly mocking composure.
The manor steward rushed out in a panic upon hearing the noise. Seeing Xu Shuhuai, his face turned deathly pale instantly. “Grand Minister Xu? Why are you here? This is the private property of the Wang family, you…”
“Private property?” Xu Shuhuai interrupted him gently. He didn’t even dismount, merely looking down from his horse at the goods that hadn’t finished loading. The corners of his mouth curled into a cold arc. “This official was ordered by imperial decree to assist in the matter of the Northern Frontier’s grain and fodder. The case of the intercepted grain at Black Wind Valley remains unsolved. This official is concerned for national affairs and has come to investigate on my own initiative. Is there anything wrong with that?”
His gaze fell on a hemp sack that had split at the corner due to the hurried handling. What was revealed inside was clearly grain marked with the special wax seal of the military granaries.
“Furthermore,” Xu Shuhuai’s voice suddenly turned frigid, “this official received a tip that the bandits who plundered the military grain have hidden their loot in this very manor. Steward Wang, the goods loaded on these wagons and those stored in your warehouse—would you mind if this official conducts a joint investigation?”
He emphasized the words “joint investigation.” The elite men he brought had already moved silently to surround the area, faintly controlling all exits and the freight wagons.
Steward Wang was sweating profusely, trying to maintain his composure. “Lord Xu must be mistaken. These are all daily necessities for the manor and have absolutely nothing to do with military grain. This is a Wang family estate. If you lack evidence and forcibly intrude upon a private residence, I’m afraid…”
“I don’t have time to waste words with you.” Xu Shuhuai smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes; instead, it looked even more grim.
He raised his hand slightly, and a man behind him immediately brought forward a ragged man with flickering eyes. “This person is one of the bandits who narrowly escaped during the robbery three days ago. He has already confessed that part of the plundered grain was transported to this manor. The human testimony is right here.”
He directed his gaze toward the wagons and the open side gate. “As for the physical evidence, is it not right before our eyes?”
He paused. “Steward Wang, go back and tell Wang Yu to confess everything clearly to the Three Judicial Offices. Otherwise, it won’t look good for anyone when we tear off the masks before the Emperor.”
His tone was steady, but every word was like a nail, sealing off all of Steward Wang’s paths of retreat.
He had been planning for many days, deliberately changing the route to Black Wind Valley and deliberately showing weakness to be impeached, all while waiting for the Wang family to lose their patience. He didn’t just want the stolen goods; he wanted to catch them in the act, leaving the Wang family no chance to transfer the goods or argue their way out.
Steward Wang’s face was devoid of color, his legs shaking so much he could barely stand. He knew that Xu Shuhuai hadn’t come to investigate; he had long ago spread a net and waited for them to crawl into it.
Xu Shuhuai stopped looking at him and looked up at the sky, which was gradually brightening. The horizon was turning the color of a fish’s belly. Xiao Jue should have led the army out of the city by now.
The Wang family thought that by destroying the grain wagons, they could strike at the Northern Frontier expedition and topple Xie Heng and himself? Little did they know that those burned grain wagons were exactly the poisoned bait used to lure them into exposing even more flaws.
He slowly exhaled, a sharp light flashing in his eyes. He whispered to himself, yet clearly enough for the deathly pale Steward Wang to hear: “In the end, you all moved too quickly, and you were too foolish.”
The real game has only just begun.