Chapter 19: Two Letters

Dusk was settling over Liangzhou when Mu Changzhou walked out of the prison.

The courtyard beyond was bare and heavily guarded, the kind of place that accumulated silence the way other places accumulated dust. Zhang Junfeng was waiting near the gate. He fell into step quickly. "The interrogation was complete before you arrived, Commander. You've never liked coming here — why go in yourself?"

Mu Changzhou looked at his own fingers, still marked with the interrogated man's blood. A jailer appeared at his elbow with a cloth; he took it and wiped his hands clean. "It was Ganzhou," he said.

Zhang Junfeng's expression soured. "They really can't stand to see you doing well. It's barely been any time since the General arranged the marriage alliance with the Central Plains — both sides should be keeping the peace — and Ganzhou is already trying to drive a wedge between them."

Mu Changzhou handed back the cloth and stood for a moment, thinking.

Hoofbeats sounded from outside the courtyard. Hu Bo'er had gotten word and ridden over at speed, pushing through the gate without slowing, heading straight for him. He didn't bother with a proper greeting. "Commander — there are no signs of military training in any of the nearby Central Plains provinces. You asked me to keep watch last time and I have been. Nothing unusual. Nothing at all." He paused for emphasis, then added, with the air of someone who felt this needed to be said: "If there were, wouldn't your whole new marriage have been for nothing?"

Mu Changzhou glanced at him and nodded. "Quite right."

Hu Bo'er hadn't expected that. He blinked, then let out a couple of pleased, self-conscious laughs, his beard quivering.

Mu Changzhou was already walking. "Keep monitoring Central Plains movements. I'm going to the General's residence."

---

Back at the Commander's residence, everything was as it had been.

Late spring, and the sunlight had turned sharp and relentless — the kind that made you squint even in the shade. It pressed down on the courtyard with an almost physical weight.

Shunyin walked to the doorway and looked toward the main house. The door was shut. No one there.

Since Changfeng had come to summon Mu Changzhou that afternoon, she hadn't seen him for several days. The particular quality of tension that followed him around had dissolved with his absence, and she found herself breathing more easily than she had in a while.

Shengyu came along the corridor, as she always did, and stopped to Shunyin's right with a small bow. "Madam, the guards have brought a message — the military commander is occupied with the Grand Steward's orders and cannot return to the manor every day. He asks that you be at ease, Madam."

Shunyin's brow shifted, just slightly.

Be at ease. Of course. He wasn't here, and he was still at it. Pressing and retreating, pressing and retreating — and now that he was gone, he was sending word to tell her to relax. As if she'd needed reminding.

She kept her expression neutral and asked, as if it were an idle question: "Do you know what's keeping him?"

"Changfeng looked into it," Shengyu said. "He's been going in and out of the Grand Steward's residence these past few days. And he visits the east gate every day."

Shunyin turned this over in her mind. The Grand Steward's orders — that would be the spy sweep, the city-wide searches. And the east gate, every day. The spy they'd brought in had been carrying a forgery designed to implicate the Central Plains. Watching the east gate while rounding up spies meant watching the road from the Central Plains.

He's doing both at once. Monitoring the sweep, and keeping an eye on her.

Shengyu was watching her expression. Reading it wrong, apparently, because she took a small step forward and offered: "Madam could go and visit him. The customs here are different from the Central Plains — fewer rules, less formality. And the robe we rushed to finish for him has been done for a while now."

Shunyin had been only half-listening, but the word discreet snagged in her thoughts. She turned it over once. Then: "Then let's go."

Shengyu slipped out to make arrangements.

Shunyin went to her dressing table. She looked at herself briefly in the bronze mirror, smoothed her hair, and left. No change of clothes. No particular effort. That was deliberate — if she was going to visit him, it would look exactly like this. Ordinary. Unhurried. Someone who had nothing to prove.

The carriage was ready at the gate.

She left the mansion without her veil. As she stepped up to the carriage, Shengyu appeared beside her and held out the finished robe.

Shunyin understood immediately — she was to deliver it herself. She took it, settled into the carriage, and said: "Go to the east gate. That's likely his route."

---

The sun had climbed higher by the time Zhang Junfeng came riding up to the front of the Governor's mansion at a quick pace, several patrol soldiers at his back. Before they'd even dismounted, the gates opened from the inside and Mu Changzhou walked out.

Zhang Junfeng pulled up and reported: "Commander, all city gates are under full search. Should we report to the Commander-in-Chief as well?"

Mu Changzhou tucked his robes as he mounted his horse. "I have his authority. All reports come to me directly from here. If anyone tries to pass off Central Plains soldiers again, deal with it thoroughly."

Zhang Junfeng accepted the order. He was about to move out when he noticed Mu Changzhou had already pulled his reins and ridden ahead.

"Are you going to the east gate yourself, Commander?" he called, falling in behind. "I saw you send the archers back with a message earlier. I assumed you were heading home."

"Mm."

Mu Changzhou rode forward. At the mention of going home, he thought of Shunyin — what she would make of the message he'd sent, the deliberate be at ease. Whether she would sit still with it, or whether she would do something.

They took the quieter roads, as usual, skirting the busier streets.

When the east gate came into view, Mu Changzhou slowed his horse.

There was a carriage parked by the roadside.

Shengyu was standing beside it. She turned toward it and said something, and the bamboo curtain lifted.

Shunyin leaned out, holding the curtain aside with one hand, and looked down at him.

She was unhurried. Her expression was the same as always — calm, giving nothing away. But she had come.

Mu Changzhou looked up at her, and something he hadn't quite expected moved across his face — surprise, there for a moment, and then smoothed into a quiet smile. He turned back and said, "Give me a moment before we continue."

Zhang Junfeng glanced at Shunyin, then turned to give the order to dismount and hold position.

Mu Changzhou rode over to the carriage. "Yinniang — were you waiting here specifically for me?"

Shunyin held up the folded robe. "The robe is finished. I brought it." She paused. "And so that, after a few days of not seeing you, Second Brother Mu wouldn't think I was deliberately keeping my distance."

He studied her face. There was no avoidance in it, no tension she was working to conceal. Everything about her was as settled as she was saying it was.

Shunyin returned his gaze evenly, waiting for him to take the clothes.

A beat passed. Mu Changzhou dismounted. "Since you've brought it this far," he said, "I'll try it on before I go." He turned and walked toward the post station buildings below the city wall.

Shunyin stepped down from the carriage and followed, the robe in her arms. She glanced at the post station as they passed it.

He walked into a room on one side — a storage space, by the look of it, one corner stacked with worn weapons, another with old city banners. She followed him in.

She glanced around, then at his back as he stopped in the middle of the room.

"Have you been this busy all week?" she asked, conversationally.

"Yes." He turned and took the robe from her, then stepped back and began unbuttoning his collar.

Shunyin's gaze moved to the side. She turned to face the door.

He looked at her — already working at the arm guards and belt — and then set each piece of it over the edge of a wooden rack. He pulled off the old robe. Put on the new one. Turned back.

"Yinniang came specifically to deliver this. Why are you standing over there?"

Shunyin tilted her head and looked at him.

He had already put on the new robe. He was looking at her with something in his eyes that wasn't quite a smile — steadier than that, with a quiet edge of amusement that he wasn't going out of his way to hide.

She composed herself, crossed the room, and stood in front of him.

She reached up and straightened the robe where it had folded at the shoulder, then picked up the sash from the rack beside him. She hadn't done this before. She hadn't thought much about that until her arms were around his waist and her fingers had already touched the fabric at his side.

Why isn't he saying anything? He had spent days finding ways to bring things up in front of her, dropping words at the edges of conversations — and now, when she was standing two inches away, he was silent.

She found the buckle and began fastening it, her fingers working along his waist. Her breathing had gone quieter without her quite deciding to let it.

Mu Changzhou looked down, watching her hands, and then felt — unmistakably — the brush of her fingertips against his side. His gaze paused on that. Then she pulled the sash taut, adjusted, continued. Her fingers moved across his waist again, light and entirely impersonal, focused on the mechanics of a buckle.

He didn't move. They were close enough that he could smell her hair — something faint, not quite floral, the kind of scent that had probably been there since she was young. He straightened slightly without meaning to, his eyes still on her.

Shunyin finished the belt and reached up to smooth the front of the robe. Deep dark blue. The stiff brocade sat well on him — the shoulders broad, the line of it clean and long. She glanced up briefly. "It fits perfectly."

Mu Changzhou watched her pull her hand back into her sleeve. Something in the set of his posture shifted — a degree of tension released. He reached out and brushed at the hem of her sleeve, the gesture barely there. "It does. Thank you, Yinniang."

She didn't have an answer ready, so she simply gathered up his old robe from the rack. "Then I'll take this back with me."

He picked up the arm guards and walked out. She followed. He had passed her, was almost at the door, when he slowed just enough to turn his head slightly toward her right side — not quite looking at her — and said, low and unhurried: "The spy from the other day was also Ganzhou's work. I'm considering going to Ganzhou before long."

Shunyin turned her head sharply.

He was already gone. The doorway held only light.

She stood still for a moment. Then she raised her hand and touched her right ear without thinking.

Ganzhou again. All of this — the false recruitment order, the forged weapons, the spy dressed to look like a Central Plains agent — all of it traced back to the same place. Someone was working very deliberately to ruin whatever fragile peace existed between Liangzhou and the Central Plains, and her own name had been caught in the edge of it more than once. She still hadn't found the floor of it.

---

Less than a quarter of an hour later, Mu Changzhou rode back through the gate.

Zhang Junfeng was watching him, on the verge of mounting, when he caught himself and looked twice — at the robe, and then behind him.

Shunyin had come out of the storage room holding the old clothes. She stood on the roadside, a little apart from everything, her gaze moving without settling until it landed on the horse.

Mu Changzhou turned in the saddle and called across to her: "If Yinniang is bored in the manor, she's welcome to go out and take in some air." And then, as if adding it only as an afterthought: "Be at ease."

Shunyin pressed her fingers into the fold of the old robe. She looked at him directly and nodded. "I understand."

He turned and rode out through the gate.

Zhang Junfeng watched the exchange for a moment longer than was necessary before following.

Shunyin let out a slow breath once they were gone. She wasn't entirely certain what the tightness in her chest had been about — the changing of clothes, or something else.

"Madam!"

She turned. Lu Tiao was coming out of the post station, and behind him, a young woman she hadn't seen before.

He reached her in a few strides, grinning. "Madam came specifically to see the Commander? A devoted couple indeed — no wonder you—" He stopped himself, the sentence cut short by his own smile, some private joke he had apparently decided not to finish aloud.

Shunyin's eyes moved past his shoulder. The young woman behind him was perhaps her age, perhaps a little younger. She had regular features, fair skin, and was standing very quietly — her attention fixed, with a steadiness that was difficult to ignore, on the city gate.

Lu Tiao caught her looking and glanced back. "I haven't introduced you yet. This is my daughter, Zhengnian. I'd meant to at the Buddha's Birthday celebration, but there were too many people."

Shunyin hadn't known he had a daughter. She looked her over. Lu Zhengnian had a calm, composed face, but she seemed to register the introduction only after her father said her name — she turned, found Shunyin, and bowed.

Shunyin returned the bow slightly, her eyes following the line of the girl's gaze back to the city gate. The gate was empty now. She looked back at Lu Zhengnian, who had already lowered her eyes and turned to follow her father. Shunyin couldn't be certain she'd read it correctly.

Shengyu appeared at her elbow. "The Commander has gone far, Madam. Shall we return?"

Shunyin handed over Mu Changzhou's old robe and nodded. She glanced once more at Lu Tiao.

He stepped closer, his expression shifting from teasing to something more measured. "Rest assured, Madam — nothing will happen in the near term. If anything does, I'll inform you."

Shunyin watched his lips and inclined her head. "Thank you, Governor Lu."

She boarded the carriage and sat back.

Nothing will happen — what he meant was that he hadn't broken his promise. That much was a relief, especially now, at this particular juncture. She could only hope Feng Wuji would have the good sense to put nothing in writing — and if he had to write, to wait until after Mu Changzhou left for Ganzhou.

---

Mu Changzhou did not return to the mansion.

Inside the city walls, life continued normally. But outside, troops were moving — quietly and frequently — along the roads that led north.

The following afternoon, five patrol soldiers rode up to a low earthen mound near the east gate, dismounted, and reported their findings to Zhang Junfeng. He listened, waved them back to their patrol, and climbed to where Mu Changzhou stood with a stack of arrest reports in his hands.

"This area seems to have been cleared, Commander. No trace of spies in the vicinity."

Mu Changzhou closed the last report. He was still wearing the robe Shunyin had brought him. "The Grand Steward has given me full authority. I'm planning to go to Ganzhou."

"When?"

"As soon as possible."

He started down the slope. From the direction of the road, several riders were approaching fast, trailing dust.

Hu Bo'er was first, pulling his horse to a stop just short of them and swinging down. "Nothing, as always. Clean borders." He dug around inside his coat with the air of someone who had remembered something mid-thought. "Although — we did catch a few messengers in passing." He produced a letter. "One of them was carrying this for Madam. From Qin Prefecture. Clearly that sullen Feng Langjun of hers, so I brought it along." He offered it over cheerfully. "It was going to end up in your hands anyway."

Mu Changzhou took it.

The address on the envelope confirmed it — Qin Prefecture. He stepped away from the group before opening it.

Feng Wuji's letter was brief. A few lines, no more. On the surface, it read as nothing: ordinary pleasantries, ordinary concern for Shunyin's wellbeing, a question about why she hadn't written back. The same tone as before. Nearly the same phrasing.

The same strangeness.

He held the letter in one hand and reached into his robe with the other, drawing out a folded piece of yellow hemp paper. He opened it flat — the copy he'd made of Feng Wuji's previous letter, reproduced the night after he'd read it — and held the two side by side.

He stood on the slope comparing them, line by line, as the sun moved and the light dropped.

Hu Bo'er turned from another patrol report and found the Commander standing motionless, apparently reading something. He squinted in that direction, wondering. Zhang Junfeng followed his gaze.

A quarter of an hour passed.

Mu Changzhou looked up. The last of the evening light caught the edge of his face, and there was a slight smile on his lips — quiet, and something underneath it that might have been satisfaction.

So that was it. He hoped he wasn't wrong.

"Commander?" Hu Bo'er craned his neck.

Mu Changzhou folded both papers and tucked them back into his robe. He walked down the slope, took his reins, and mounted.

Hu Bo'er blinked. "You're not staying to supervise the arrests yourself?"

"No." The smile was still there, faint and composed. "You arrest yours. I'll arrest mine." He pulled on the reins and rode back toward the city.