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Jingyan doesn’t think his father likes him all that much. Of course, he isn’t favoured over his eldest brother, the crown prince Prince Qi, nor his other older brothers, the good-for-nothing Prince Xian and ever scheming Prince Yu who constantly vie against each other for any left over attention the Emperor has to give. But sometimes, he feels like no matter what he does, he’ll piss his father off somehow.

It is partially his fault—he isn’t in the capital much, seeing as he’s been leading armies for the past fifteen years to strengthen the nation’s borders. It was his choice, given that he vastly preferred to be on the battlefield with his best friend, the Chiyan Marshal Lin Shu, and not in court with those stuffy Ministers. But by age thirty-two he is a noble prince, and their borders are safe enough in the last couple of years, so there is no reason for him to be sent out on excursions anymore.

His father frames it as a reward; come back to the palace and have a rest for all the hard work, but Jingyan sees it as a prison sentence—because there is no role he can play in the capital, only to be kept unemployed and useless in his manor. After being shouted at for his ungratefulness, Jingyan finds himself kneeling outside Zhiluo palace as his punishment to reflect on his selfishness. It’s raining heavily, and the cold water seeps into the robe at his knees, but Jingyan is too incensed to feel any of it.

“Your Highness, her Lady Consort Jing is coming,” his attendant cum general Lie Zhanying whispers, who’s next to him holding an umbrella over his head. 

Jingyan’s mother looks wry as Jingyan and Zhanying bow in respect at her presence. 

“Oh, Jingyan,” she comes to him with her own maid sheltering her from the rain, uncaring of the water on the ground that soaked the long train of her silk robe. “What happened?”

“Royal father wants me to come back to the capital. Forever,” he adds sourly. “I do not want to. I am to kneel here for three days to reflect on my behaviour.”

“Jingyan,” Consort Jing starts again, arm pulling on her son’s to make him stand up. Jingyan freezes, contemplating resisting the nudge as he would be breaking the order given to him, but gives in eventually to his mother. “Why don’t you want to come back to the capital?”

“I—” Jingyan’s breath is a little caught when he realises that perhaps, his mother is the one who wants him to come back all along. “I don’t have a place here,” he admits. “I don’t have skills to run the court, not like Prince Qi da-ge.”

“The crown prince wasn’t born with those skills, you know,” Consort Jing says. “He learned them by being present.”

“You want me to come back,” Jingyan says it out loud, because they’ve never been one to be wishy washy with each other. 

“I miss you. And I worry about you,” she agrees. “I did assure His Majesty not to pull you away from your duty—...but it seems that he was being gracious to me.”

“Gracious,” Jingyan snorts lightly under his breath, because the shouting match earlier was anything but. 

Consort Jing has a look which makes Jingyan shut his mouth before he says more. “Let’s go inside and talk. It’s cold out here, hm?” she pats his arm. 

Jingyan nods. 

“Your Lady, your Highness,” Zhanying bows to leave—but Consort Jing gestures him to come along.

“Xiao Xin, get some towels and serve some tea for Lieutenant-General Lie,” Consort Jing says to her maid, who scuttles along quickly the moment another maid comes to take over the umbrella.

Jingyan glances back to see Zhanying completely drenched because he had been carefully holding the umbrella over Jingyan. Jingyan almost reacts in guilt—but he’s a prince, and his mother is watching, so he looks ahead and enters Xinuan hall.

“Jingyan, why the long face?” Prince Qi strides into Jingyan’s private study room, grinning as Jingyan accidentally toppled the inkbrush he’s holding in surprise. “You’ve been in the capital for three days and you haven’t visited me?”

Looking up, Zhanying is bowing behind Prince Qi with an apologetic face for not warning him of the other’s presence—but it’s likely Prince Qi’s fault and there’s no way his general could disobey an order from the crown prince.

“Prince Qi xiong,” Jingyan greets while Zhanying disappears silently to give them privacy. “I apologise, I have been busy with military matters,” he gestures to the mountain of paperwork on his desk. “As you know, I have been ordered to remain in the capital from now on, so there are a lot of changes to be made.”

“Let your generals handle these,” Prince Qi sighs, making himself comfortable in the seat Jingyan vacated when he rose to greet the other. “I’ve told you you need to learn how to delegate. You don’t need to be in control of everything.”

“Zhanying is already helping me sort the accounts—”

“Great, now find another general and have them do another share.”

Jingyan sighs, ignoring the advice. “Why are you here, da-ge?”

“You’ve been away for four months since you left for Southern Chu. I can’t come to see you?”

“You can, and I appreciate it,” Jingyan mollifies, but he also knows his brother better. “But really, why?”

“Royal father sentenced you to room confinement for two weeks this morning,” Prince Qi says, narrowing his eyes. “I thought everything was well yesterday when you went to apologise. What happened?”

Jingyan clenches his fists automatically at the thought of it. After the chat with his mother, he agreed to give up his usual military duties and stay in the capital. Since he has been away for more than a decade, Jingyan decides that in filial piety, he can at least give his mother a peace of mind after she had let him do what he wanted. He isn’t going to enjoy it—but he understands that as a noble prince, his duties are changing at the age he’s come into.

His father even smiled when he went to apologise sincerely, promising him that he would even help ease Jingyan into royal duties at the palace. Jingyan thought things were looking up after feeling so down about it—and then this morning he was called in again to discuss a very important event: his engagement with a new consort.

Given that his first consort passed away many years prior owing to ill health, and that he only has two concubines whom he rarely visits, it somehow seemed pertinent that he takes a new main wife to match his age and standing.

Needless to say, Jingyan did not react well to this sudden news.

“You don’t want to get married,” Prince Qi summarises after Jingyan can’t stop himself from ranting. “I can help recommend someone suitable if you are worried about father’s choices.”

“It’s not that—...” Jingyan exhales roughly, because no one gets it. “…Nevermind.”

“Jingyan,” Prince Qi presses when Jingyan stays sullen. “What is it? You can trust me.”

Jingyan drinks like three cups of hot water before he speaks. “...Are you happy? With your consorts?”

“Of course,” Prince Qi says immediately, keen eyes deducing whatever Jingyan is unwilling to come forth with. “Are you afraid you will be matched with someone you don’t like? I already said I can help you with choosing who—”

“It’s not about who,” Jingyan snaps, infamous short temper rising up. “I know I won’t like it, no matter who it is.”

Prince Qi’s expression is unreadable for a moment. “...It is about who. A very specific who,” he says finally, suppressing his grin when Jingyan jerks in shock. “You have someone already in mind—someone that you know father will never approve.”

“No!” Jingyan denies hotly, but Prince Qi is so excited by the prospect that Jingyan is hiding a forbidden romance—

“Is it someone from your army?” Prince Qi gasps, covering his mouth. “Wait, no, you have no women soldiers, and you don’t have any maids, who could it—...” he gasps again, louder this time, eyes wide as saucers.

“What?” Jingyan spits, embarrassed and confused as hell.

“Is it Nihuang-mei?” Prince Qi demands, and Jingyan just stares back, unmoving. “Does Xiao Shu know? Oh maybe he knows, nothing gets past him, oh Jingyan, are you involved with Xiao Shu and Nihuang-mei? Together?” his voice shakes, like he’s trying to handle the most earth-shattering revelation in his life, even beyond Xia Jiang trying to frame him for a rebellion. “Is this why you don’t want to come back to the capital?”

“Da-ge, what kind of person do you think I am!” Jingyan yells, covering his face with his hands, trying to calm down at being accused of an incestuous threesome. “I just like men, okay?!”

“...Oh,” Prince Qi’s shoulders settle. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Because!” Jingyan spits, face going red. “It’s another thing father will hate about me, I’m sure,” he mutters. “There’s no such thing as a male consort, and…—and…forget it, da-ge.”

“Jingyan, you wouldn’t be the first prince to have a male companion,” Prince Qi says reasonably. “Have you forgotten your history? I’m sure father wouldn’t mind. Let me speak to him.”

Jingyan nods, bewildered at the easy-going acceptance of the bomb he just dropped, before he narrows his eyes. “Royal father asked you to speak to me, didn’t he?”

“I did want to see you,” Prince Qi says, evading the question. “Tell me, how are Xiao Shu and Nihuang-mei doing?”

Jingyan is convinced that not even Prince Qi will be able to shake their father’s core—he will be summoned to the palace to get another lashing for being gay, because that’s what’s expected of the black sheep of the Xiao dyansty. Instead, a quiet week passes by where Jingyan is still confined to his room before an eunuch visits the Jing manor to roll out an imperial edict.

Jingyan stares in shock at the ground while the eunuch reads out an announcement of a fighting tournament for his hand in marriage. The tournament will be open to all single males above the age of 16. The top ten will undergo a writing examination, and those successful will fight again until the last one standing. He can’t understand what is happening—why a fighting tournament, why these terms—but he has to bow and accept the edict.

Chatter arises immediately when the eunuch leaves, but the sour look on Jingyan’s face makes everyone snap their mouths shut and pretend they are busy with something else. 

“Zhanying,” Jingyan calls. “I’m going to the palace.”

“Your Highness,” Zhanying halts him before he rushes off in anger. “His Majesty did not release you from confinement…”

Jingyan snorts. “What else can he do to me?” he’s almost crushing the cloth in his hand with how much his fists shakes. “Let’s go.”

At least he doesn’t need to wait for over an hour before being let in this time. The Emperor seems to be in a jolly mood, chucking at something Prince Qi had said when Jingyan was called to enter the court hall. Jingyan can’t help but glare at his older brother for this fucking mess—great help he is. Nonetheless, he forces himself to greet them respectfully and only stands when he’s allowed to.

“Royal father,” he starts before anyone can say anything. “Your son does not understand why you would do this.”

“Do what? Oh, the tournament,” the Emperor says, like the recent announcement had been an after thought. “Prince Qi suggested it. I also thought it was an excellent idea. We will find you an appropriate male consort. What have you got to complain about now?”

Jingyan has no words to explain how humiliating the whole concept is. “...I do not understand why it has to be a fighting tournament.”

“Amongst all the princes, your military achievements are unmatched,” the Emperor says blithely. “Your spouse cannot be too low in this regard either,” he cocks his head. “Unfortunately your mother is not too familiar with potential men that might fit this criteria. If you had just told me the problem years ago I could have kept a look out for you,” he continues, wagging his eyebrows like it’s Jingyan’s fault he didn’t want to come out of the closet. “Prince Qi suggested a tournament to find us a selection of suitable men, and I agree. Unless,” he lowers his voice. “You have someone in mind, hm?”

Jingyan looks down, knowing that he can’t refute anything, especially not if it’s his traitor-brother Prince Qi’s grand fucking plan. “No, Royal father,” he mutters.

“Is there anything else?”

“...No,” he bows, defeated. “I will take my leave.”

“Jingyan,” the Emperor calls him just as he takes a step back. “I didn’t release you from confinement, did I?”

“Royal father,” Prince Qi cuts in, hands clasped together. “Jingyan is just surprised about the tournament, given that we planned this without him. Seeing as he just came back from Southern Chu after four months away, perhaps you can be lenient and allow him to visit her Lady Consort Jing? They have much to discuss for the upcoming wedding after all.”

The Emperor squints, calculating those words for a minute. “Fine. Jingyan, I have given into your request that you take a male consort. You cannot be any more willful. A prince has his duties. If you don’t want to do them, I can take them away from you,” he levels Jingyan a stare. “Do you understand?”

Jingyan bites his lip to prevent himself from making a face. “...Yes.”

“You may go.”

Jingyan swallows the knot at the back of his throat and excuses himself, almost running down the steps of the court hall with how much he’s seething in anger. He doesn’t even slow when he hears Prince Qi call his name—so much for trusting his elder brother. Sometimes, he wonders if it’s because he’s been away from the capital too long that it feels like his brother has gotten more annoying as of late.

“...—yan! Jingyan!” 

Jingyan jerks when the back of his robe is pulled taut, almost causing him to trip ungracefully. Thankfully, or not, Prince Qi catches him before he falls flat on his face.

“Jingyan, I said to wait for me,” Prince Qi clucks his tongue.

Jingyan can’t find it in him to greet the other without sarcasm, so he doesn’t. Instead, he continues his journey towards the gate, but at a slower pace because he knows his brother will just find him eventually anyway.

“He’s trying to care in his own way, you know,” Prince Qi says, but Jingyan ignores him. “Jingyan, why are you so angry?”

At that, Jingyan whirls around, almost baring his teeth. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he growls, jabbing Prince Qi’s chest. “Do you think it’s funny to have the whole city know I rather suck a cock than to—”

“Jingyan,” Prince Qi interrupts, voice broking no argument. “There are certain things you cannot say out here. Let’s go to your manor.”

Jingyan visibly takes a deep breath to calm down, glaring at his brother because he knows he shouldn’t have lost his temper like that. “Fine.”

“...To answer your question,” Prince Qi continues as they walk along, like there had been no pause, “I did not suggest a public tournament to embarrass you. I am trying to help you.”

“How?” Jingyan demands.

“Anyone can join the tournament. No restrictions on family standing or otherwise.”

“So?” Jingyan prompts when Prince Qi says nothing more.

“So,” Prince Qi sighs, but at least it isn’t condescending like Lin Shu’s sighs. “Put forth the person you have in mind. Have them win the tournament. You get to marry who you love.”

Jingyan splutters at the word ‘love’. “Prince Qi xiong —I-I...I…I don’t have anyone like that,” he denies. “Besides, even if I put someone in, there’s no guarantee they will win.”

Prince Qi smiles. “Of course there is.”

“But—...” Jingyan narrows his eyes. “You mean…cheating? I never knew you as a person who would even suggest that to me.”

“It’s not cheating if they win, perhaps with support, by the terms that are set,” Prince Qi raises an eyebrow. “If you disagree, then by all means, marry the winner set forth by someone else, whoever that may be.”

“Prince Qi xiong!” Jingyan cries, indignant. “Besides,” he grumbles. “The Ministry of Rites is planning the tournament. I don’t know anyone there. I can’t interfere even if I wanted to.”

“Are you asking for help?”

“No!” Jingyan huffs, and feels relieved when he spots Zhanying waiting for him at the palace gate. “You don’t have to come to my manor,” he says quickly. “I’ll be very busy.”

“Hm, sure,” Prince Qi grins, nodding at the greeting bow Zhanying gives him when they arrive close enough. “Send a message if you change your mind. Your da-ge is always on your side.”

Jingyan feels like a joke. For the next month, the city is awashed with excitement of the tournament to win his hand in marriage. Everyday he hears whispers of acclaimed fighters entering the capitals, rumour is even plenty of men from their neighbouring countries were flowing in. Countries Jingyan had fought wars in and killed commanders from. He spends half his time stewing in the Jing manor and half of the other time getting consoled by his mother with hazelnut cookies.

He is not stupid enough to protest any more about the situation, given the threat the Emperor had left him the last time. It is true it is his duty to get married—and no other prince ever had much of a say in their marriages, so why would he? 

“Jingyan! You water bufflao!” comes a yell that only has to come from one person: Lin Shu. “Prince Qi da-ge said you were being stupid—”

Jingyan sits up in alarm when the door to his study gets shoved open, and Lin Shu strides in wearing his full battle armour, hair windswept and skin sweaty. Behind him Nihuang had a bit more decorum to greet him, but she was also in armour.

“Duchess,” Jingyan returns the nod, looking bewildered. “Why are you two here and not in Yunnan? What happened?”

“Your marriage tournament, dumbass!” Lin Shu slaps Jingyan’s shoulder, gleeful. “As if we would miss this for the world!”

Jingyan frowned. “Did you just arrive? Shouldn’t you see your parents first?”

“Don’t try and change the topic, Jingyan, you know you’re bad at diversions,” Lin Shu grins. “So, who is it? Who do you need me to kill to strike them off the list?”

“Xiao Shu!” Jingyan sighs, but he doesn’t protest more because he knows (thinks) the other is joking. “You can’t enter the tournament to help me anyway, you’re married.”

“I’m saying some accidental behind the scenes murder,” Lin Shu makes some hand gestures, to which Nihuang fails to cover her laughter. “Or who do you need me to train so that they’ll win?”

“Xiao Shu—”

“—Seriously, you call yourself my best friend and I didn’t even know you were in love with somebody? How long has this been going on? Who the fuck is it?”

“No one!” Jingyan snaps. “Prince Qi da-ge just has ideas in his head. You know how he is.”

“Well, yes, but I also know you,” Lin Shu says, tilting his head a little. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out. Just so you know, every eligible soldier from the Chiyan troop I brought with me is going to join the tournament,” he adds.

“Why?!”

“We’ve got to weed out the losers, of course!” Lin Shu crosses his arms. “Too bad Meng da-ge is married, else he can just beat everyone who sucks for you. Speaking of which, I heard Jingrui and Yujin are going to join too. Oh my god,” he pauses, like it just came to him. “It will be so funny if Jingrui wins. Your gu-mu will kill you before you consummate the marriage.”

Jingyan covers his face with his hand. “How have you heard more things than me when you’ve just arrived?”

Lin Shu scoffs. “You’re just being willfully ignorant. Zhanying is up to date with everything, he’s not telling you only because he knows you don’t want to hear it.”

“And you know this because…?”

“He tells Wei Zheng everything, who tells me everything,” Lin Shu rolls his eyes. “I’m going to see my parents now. Don’t be stubborn, Jingyan. If you want a say in who you marry, you cannot close your eyes and pray for the best,” he advises as he strolls off the same way he came in. “You have to fight for it, you water buffalo.”

Despite the many nudges that Prince Qi gives to him over the past few weeks, he refuses to ask for help to manipulate the tournament. First of all, Jingyan will not be dishonest—and second of all, there is no one he wants to put forth. When the first day begins, Jingyan stubbornly stays in the Jing manor even though Lin Shu tries very hard to drag him to go watch. It is the early preliminaries anyway—none of the fights will be concerning for him at this stage.

“Your Highness,” Zhanying enters his study with a tray containing a tea pot and covered bowl. “Have something to eat.”

“Not hungry,” Jingyan retierates, waving it away.

“You refused breakfast,” Zhanying sets the tray down, lifting the cover to reveal five hazelnut cookies. “Please eat.”

Jingyan had been ready to refuse again if it was a rice bowl but the cookies made him pause. Zhanying gives him a pleading look. He sighs, reaching out to put one pastry into his mouth. Zhanying looks like he’s suppressing a smile as he pours hot water into a cup for Jingyan.

“Your Highness,” he gestures to the cup before making to leave.

“Zhanying, sit,” Jingyan says before the other does. 

Jingyan takes the tea pot and fills in another cup, pushing it towards his general. “Why are you serving me food, anyway? Where’s the kitchen staff?”

Zhanying gingerly takes the cup. “…Everyone went to watch the tournament, your Highness.”

To be honest, Jingyan has no idea how many of his own personnel signed up to join—he knows there’s a group led by Qi Meng who professed that they will do Jingyan proud, although Jingyan doesn’t really feel all that hopeful on his soldiers’ performance.

“And you?”

“Qi Meng will tell me the results,” Zhanying shrugs. 

Jingyan eats another cookie. “…I haven’t asked you what you think about the tournament.”

There is a pause. “I hope your Highness will find a suitable consort.”

Jingyan knows there’s rank between them, even if they’ve been through thick and thin, life and death, on the battlefield for a decade together, that stops Zhanying from saying much more.

“You don’t mind?” Jingyan presses on the one thing he is really after. “That I prefer men?”

“Your Highness, why would it ever matter?” Zhanying demurs. “It doesn’t change my duty, or my loyalty.”

Jingyan, indescribably, feels a sense of relief. “Indeed,” he agrees. “…Why didn’t you participate in the tournament?”

At that, Zhanying freezes. “Your Highness,” he starts, eyes wide. “I-I…I would not have gotten far. You know my limits with a sword.”

Jingyan sighs, because he does know. Zhanying is not a top fighter by any chance. It’s not an insult—because it is a fact. Zhanying is blessed in many other more important skills, which is why Jingyan chooses him as his second in command. 

“If your Highness wishes me to…—“

“It’s fine,” Jingyan sighs again, feeling like he’s resigned to whatever outcome will happen in the tournament. “I just hope whoever wins, at least he will be nice to look at.”

Zhanying splutters at the unexpected admission, and Jingyan laughs.

The contender in the lead is decidedly not nice to look at. Jingyan buries his head in the sand for four days until Lin Shu will not stop complaining about this butt-ugly fighter from Northern Yan who was dominating the rounds. Jingyan thought the other was just being dramatic, but when he finally comes along to the fifth day of the tournament at Yingfeng tower, the last day to finalise the top ten, he sees the man.

Large, broad, pudgy—and messy mop of a hairdo to top off his ruddy face that is mostly covered by a coarse beard.

Baili Qi.

“See!” Lin Shu hisses in his ear as they watch the man’s opponent get flung out of the fighting ring. “Fuck, Jingyan—he’s strong. I don’t even think Jingrui can beat him.”

Jingyan has never really thought he was the kind of man to prize beauty, but…he suddenly has an image of the large fighter in a dainty consort dress looming over him during their wedding night, and—and…he would be destroyed.

He might just kill himself if he had to marry this ruffian. 

“What am I supposed to do then?” Jingyan echoes, feeling himself getting faint with a fast rising panic. “What if I fight him myself?”

“Uh, did you forget that Jingrui is a better fighter than you?”

“Xiao Shu, I swear to god if you don’t help me, I, I-I…” Jingyan knows desperate times come with desperate measures. “I will tell your mother what you’ve been really doing at Yunnan. Your Jiangzuo Union or something—”

“Shhh Jingyan!” Lin Shu yelps, highly offended. “Wha—...how do you know about that?” he hisses. “And it’s an alliance, not a union,” he mutters under his breath. 

Jingyan gives him a flat stare. “As if I can’t figure out why you’ve been taking so many random trips away from Yunnan the entire time I was next to you in Southern Chu,” he deadpans. “And,” his lips twitch. “Wei Zheng tells Zhanying everything, who tells me everything.”

Lin Shu curses. “Ugh. Whatever. Why is your ugly consort-to-be my problem now? Prince Qi da-ge offered to help so many times before the tournament started and you did absolutely nothing! It’s already the fifth day—there’s no time to prepare anything!”

“I will visit the Lin manor tonight—“

“Okay, okay—!” Lin Shu nearly yells. “Fuck you, Jingyan. I’ll think of something by tomorrow. Happy?”

“It better work,” Jingyan huffs. “Else I’ll just ask to be exiled.”

Lin Shu looks slightly put off. “Don’t be dramatic. I’d bet the Emperor is losing his mind over a Northern Yan contender possibly winning. He’s not going to let you marry that oaf. It will be an embarrassment to Da Liang.”

“What can my father do if Baili Qi wins fair and square?”

“Jingyan,” Lin Shu deadpans. “Nothing is fair or square in the royal palace. Trust me, he’d sooner send Meng da-ge or my dad to off this guy before you can marry him.”

“I don’t trust him,” Jingyan says finally, to which Lin Shu pinches the bridge of his nose like he has a headache.

“Fine, I will think of something, okay?”

Early next morning he gets informed that he will have to come into the palace for lunch with the top ten contenders. Jingyan doesn’t sleep a wink, dread sinking heavily on his shoulders at the thought of inevitably marrying this… this… uncouth man who is very not nice to look at.

He steels himself to keep a neutral face as Lin Shu comes up next to him as they’re gathering to enter the hall. Out at the corner of his eye, he sees Baili Qi towering over everyone else in the crowd, his imposing figure drawing whispers and stares.

“Jingrui will challenge him later, in front of everyone,” Lin Shu relays. “Even if Jingrui can’t beat him, he will wound him enough that he’ll have to drop out.”

Jingyan is thankful, but he doesn’t feel assured. “Are you sure it will work? What if Jingrui fails?”

“Then Zhen Ping will try his luck. Do you have a better plan, Jingyan?” Lin Shu grumbles. “You can ask Prince Xian or Prince Yu to bet their favourite contenders for you—but I doubt Sima Lei or Liao Tingjie is any better than Jingrui. Or any better than Yujin, even,” he scoffs. “Why didn’t you get Prince Qi da-ge to put forth someone for you? At least we’d have more people on our side.”

Jingyan wonders if the vehement arguments he had with Prince Qi over any “help” being offered in the past few weeks are to his eventual doom. Their conversation is distracted by the eunuch announcing that they were to enter. Jingyan shuffles in, greeting the Emperor before taking his place at one of the seats at the side. His mother is placed next to Noble Consort Chen, both of whom smile at him when he catches their eye. 

There are a total of ten finalists, which is weird to think that ten (actually thousands) men want to win his hand in marriage. Of course, Jingyan is not so naïve to think they genuinely want to—marrying him would grant the to-be prince consort imperial status and a life of relative wealth. The benefits can be considered a no-brainer for men who aren’t even gay.

The majority of them are from Da Liang. The odd one outs are a fighter from Ye Qin (Jingyan doesn’t know him), a fighter from Dong Hai (Jingyan doesn’t know him either) and Baili Qi with the envoy from Northern Yan. Jingyan would rather marry a local, since he knows he’ll definitely be dragged into some political scheming if it is someone from another country. 

But the remaining contenders aren’t that great either—there’s Jingrui and Yujin, whom he will not marry given he’s known them since they were babies, and there’re that Sima Lei and Liao Tingjie, skeevy men who probably aren’t any good but simply got through because they are supported by his brothers, so those are definite nos. Out of the four left, the only one Jingyan can recognise is the captain from Chiyan, Zhen Ping. 

Well, Zhen Ping is a little short for his taste.

Jingyan can see his mother also appraising the crowd—if all else fails, well, he will just marry the one his mother picks out of the bunch. She is a great judge of character anyway.

The Emperor is decidedly merry today, with Grand Marshal Lin Xie and Grand Commander Meng flanking him in front, raising toasts and making them drink. Jingyan can’t escape from it either, given that it’s his tournament—he just wants this over and done with.

“Your Majesty,” Jingrui clasps his hand together, after being given a subtle nod by Lin Shu. “Since we are all here, I wonder if we can show off our skills. As you know, we have a number of talented fighters from all over the country—it would be a waste not to see it in person.”

“Xiao Jingrui, are you suggesting that we raise swords in front of his Majesty?“ Prince Xian cuts in before a reply comes. “This is a celebratory event, not a—“

“Royal father,” now it’s Prince Yu’s turn to protest, “I agree with Xiao Jingrui, after all, this is a rare opportunity—“

“Royal father,” Prince Qi raises a cup, “I myself am quite curious about their skills. As you know, I haven’t had much chance to indulge in martial arts in the last few years.”

While Prince Yu and Prince Xian are seething glares and smirks at each other, the Emperor nods thoughtfully. He does occasionally send the Northern Yan envoy an expression of distaste, which confirms Lin Shu’s prediction that he does not want Jingyan to marry Baili Qi. Which is a relief.

“Thank you, your Majesty,” Jingrui bows, and then faces Baili Qi pointedly. “Please,” he gestures, and doesn’t give much pause before he leaps forward to strike.

Jingrui is definitely skilled, being trained by the Tian Quan master Zhuo Dingfeng since he was young. Ever since the exile of his ex (step) father the Marquis Ning, Xie Yu, he’d further drowned himself into training in Jianghu, which makes him pretty formidable in recent years, though he hasn’t made it to the Langya List yet. 

Unfortunately, Baili Qi is undeterred, parring the blows with ease. Jingyan had hoped that if Baili Qi was large and heavy, he would be slow, but it is proven not the case that he matches Jingrui hit for hit, swipe for swipe. It’s fast coming towards a standstill, or maybe even favourable to Baili Qi, given that his strength is harder and Jingrui is obviously taking the hits with a bit of tension. 

Then, after a string of futile kicks to the Northern Yan lander’s shoulder, there is a collective gasp as Jingrui is roughly grasped and thrown across the hall. Luckily, he manages to twist his body in time and merely has to break his fall against a pillar.

“Your Majesty!” Yujin shouts from his table, standing up. “Jingrui is better with a sword!”

The Emperor catches on immediately, sending Marshal Lin Xie a look.

“Jingrui!” Lin Xie calls barely a warning before he swiftly tosses his unsheathed sword over.

To Jingrui’s credit, the other flips himself upright and catches the sword by the handle in a smooth movement, twirling it around his wrist before moving forward with an intention to stab. 

For a moment, Jingyan honestly thought they had it in the bag—but Grand Marshal Lin Xie’s sword is much broader and heavier than the light swords Jingrui is experienced with to execute his signature moves. Baili Qi catches the sword in movement, uncaring of the splatter of blood on his palm from the sharp blade, and slams Jingrui full on in the chest. Jingrui slams into several tables, sending their occupants crawling hastily away; everyone but the Northern Yan envoy winces.

It’s clear Jingrui has taken more than enough hits for what should be a “friendly spar”. Jingyan feels a deep dark pit opening up inside him—so this is how his fate is sealed, huh.

But of course, he will not give up until he’s tried everything. Even if he’s not as slick as Jingrui with a sword, he's killed plenty of men in war. Baili Qi should be reminded of that.

He stands up. “Your Majesty—”

At this moment, there is a loud bark of laughter from Lin Shu, who seems to be giggling about something with his wife. The attention is drawn towards the young Marshal, who is still laughing like he is oblivious about the thick tension in the air.

“Xiao Shu,” the Emperor cuts in, barely giving Jingyan a glance. “What is so funny? Share it with us.”

It’s a tone bordering on either going very right or very wrong. Lin Shu grins widely, clasping his hands and bowing in (fake) apology—a behaviour Jingyan sees through immediately. 

“Your Majesty,” Lin Shu indulges. “As you know, Nihuang is an accomplished warrior on the Langya List. She was just telling me that she could beat Baili Qi with her eyes closed…and I was saying I could do it in my sleep.” Naturally, the Northern Yan group takes offense at this, to which Lin Shu is quick to address. “We often speak coarsely in private and have bets for fun between husband and wife. As we are often away from the capital, we tend to forget the proper etiquette. I hope you can forgive us.”

The Emperor waves it away. “What do you mean? That you can beat Baili Qi?”

“But of course—”

“Your Majesty,” the Northern Yan envoy interrupts, face still dark with unhappiness. He shoots Baili Qi a look, as though telling the other to keep it together for now. “Even if the Chiyan young Marshal Lin Shu can win against Baili Qi, he is ineligible for the tournament. Talking about these hypotheticals does not make any difference. If the young Marshal Lin Shu wants to challenge Baili Qi on his own time after the tournament, we of course, welcome it.”

“I’m just saying,” Lin Shu continues loudly, without much care. “After watching the fight, I know exactly how to beat him. His style is so rigid—I can predict what he’s going to do all the time. Hell, even if you give me a nobody, I can train him within five days to beat the oaf’s ass to the ground.”

“Xiao Shu!” This time, the chide is from Lin Xie. “Watch your mouth. You are in the palace, not on the battlefield. Forgive me, your Majesty, it seems like I haven’t taught him enough.”

Instead, the Emperor laughs. “You think I don’t know your son? He has something up his sleeve. What is it, say it clearly.”

“Your Majesty,” Lin Shu is outright grinning. “Why not have a bet with me? Give me five days and an ordinary man. I’ll show you that Baili Qi is nothing special,” he tosses the other a snide look. “As if a rough brawler like him could be worthy of marrying Jingyan.”

The Emperor cocks his head in thought—but at this point, Baili Qi’s face was ruddy red with anger.

“Da-ren,” he snarls, addressing the Northern Yan envoy. “You can keep quiet and listen to this, but I cannot. Choose your man.” he dares Lin Shu. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Your Majesty?” Lin Shu smiles with open arms. 

Jingyan glares at Lin Shu, furrowing his eyebrows because this isn’t part of any plan, and honestly it sounds downright ridiculous. They just witnessed Jingrui being beaten up, and he’s trained by a Langya List master. Lin Shu is fearsome warrior in his own right, but he is definitely not known for training disciples—he is too impatient. Those who had tried eventually quit from the Marshal’s horrendously high expectations; as far Jingyan knows, Lin Shu himself doesn’t even like the thought of having disciples because everyone is “too stupid”.

This is going to be a fucking disaster.

The very most, it’ll just delay the tournament, and Lin Shu will humiliate himself and the poor chosen trainee, and the result will be the same. Baili Qi will win, and Jingyan will have a very ugly husband. The last way out is for Jingyan himself to fight the warrior—at least this way, he can say he did try to fight for himself.

The Emperor darts his eyes around before calling Grand Commander Meng and Grand Marshal Lin Xie closer to him. Some whisperings were exchanged before he nodded slowly. “Fine. I’ll allow it. You can pick any one of the men under my care for your use.”

“I already have someone in mind, your Majesty,” Lin Shu bows. 

“Oh?”

Lin Shu looks very pleased with himself. “Jingyan’s second in command, Lieutenant-General Lie Zhanying.”

“Absolutely not!” Jingyan shouts before he can stop himself. “Xiao Shu, you are out of line!”

It’s one thing to have a stupid plan that will embarrass Lin Shu, it’s another thing to drag his general into this, especially in a plan that has the attention of the Emperor. It will not end well, and he cannot afford to lose Zhanying just because of a shitty bet that has no chance of winning. 

“Jingyan,” the Emperor squints, curious at the outburst. “Why not?”

Jingyan tries to calm himself down before his temper flies off the roof. “Royal father,” he swallows. “Lieutenant-General Lie has many important duties to fulfil. He cannot spare a whole week just to take part in something to amuse Xiao Shu.”

“Wha…—are you saying you don’t have faith in me?!” Lin Shu growls, almost stomping his foot. 

“Besides,” Jingyan ignores him. “He is not known for his martial arts. I’m afraid Xiao Shu will have to look elsewhere for someone more appropriate,” he sends the other a pointed look. 

“But that’s the whole point!” Lin Shu huffs. “If I get someone who can really fight, that’ll just be cheating. Sure, Zhanying is a trained soldier but he’s nothing special in that regard,” he says off-handedly. “Father, Meng da-ge, you know Zhanying, right? He’s totally ordinary with his fighting ability. I’m saying I can train even someone that terrible to beat Baili Qi in five days.”

“Xiao Shu,” Jingyan seethes, “Zhanying is not someone you can just—”

“Jingyan,” the Emperor sounds disapproving. “What is the problem? Does this Lieutenant-General Lie not serve you? A servant should always obey his master. Call him in. I would like to see him for myself,” he announces, to which Eunuch Gao Zhan relates the order. 

Jingyan looks around desperately, finding curiosity written on everyone’s faces except for his mother, who offers the only consoling gaze. He knows the Emperor is very taken into this absurd idea, and any protesting will not do him good. But this is spilling over to not just his life, but to his men—someone he is responsible for. If anything happens…fuck, he will kill Xiao Shu.

A couple of minutes later, Zhanying walks in, face bearing no emotion except for a neutral press of the lips—an expression Jingyan knows to be inner panic but exuding outer calm in the face of calamity. He looks straight forward, posture a bit stiff, but otherwise comes off as confident.

“Your subject greets your Majesty,” Zhanying kneels and bows formally, and then he turns slightly. “Your subject greets the Crown Prince,” and then a pause. “Your subject greets the Empress—”

Seeing that this will continue unless stopped, the Emperor waves his hand impatiently. “Dispense with formalities.”

“Thank you, your Majesty,” Zhanying acknowledges, but remains kneeling.

Jingyan honestly can’t remember if Zhanying has ever been in front of his father before—perhaps during the Spring Hunts, but this is something entirely different.

The Emperor took a moment to give the other an overall look. “Lieutenant-General Lie.”

“Yes?”

“How long have you been working for Jingyan?”

There is no hesitation in Zhanying’s answer. “Answering your Majesty, I have been working for Prince Jing for fourteen years and sixty two days.”

There is a little grunt. “I heard that you are not a good fighter. Is that true?”

At that, there is a sheen of confusion that flashes over Zhanying’s eyes that tells he has no idea why he was called in to chat with the Emperor. “...I suppose I am not extraordinary beyond a standard soldier, your Majesty.”

“Oh? Then what do you do for Jingyan?”

Perhaps it is weird that Jingyan chooses to promote a soldier who does not excel in fighting but Jingyan can take care of himself, there is no need for a bodyguard. Instead, what Jingyan needs is what Zhanying can do—

“My duties for Prince Jing vary with the day,” Zhanying replies. “In general, I manage the Prince Jing manor. I oversee the staff, including recruitment, hiring, management, dismissal, and negotiation of fair contract policies. Within the household, I also take care of the accommodation assignments, building maintenance and repairs, incoming imports and exports, food and water supply agreements, audits and accounts, filing tax reports to the Ministry of Revenue—”

The list drones on, and even Jingyan can’t suppress his amused smile at the answer. That’s his general, alright.

“—As for military duties, I manage the army resources. Personnel wise, I chair the strategy discussions and convey orders from Prince Jing to the rest. I also oversee and develop the schedule for rotational guard duties and supervise the new recruits training. Administratively, I draw the logistic plans for every skirmish, manage the monetary budget and file monthly reports to the Ministry of War, negotiate ration policies and weapon contracts—“

“Wait, what? You also do that?” Lin Shu echoes, surprised, but it is drowned out by Zhanying continuing to list his responsibilities. 

“—and secure alternative emergency supply sources, including courting and signing treaties with local farms. In addition to that, I organise the bi-yearly medical check ups for all personnel and the cavalry horses—”

“I get the picture,” the Emperor cuts in blandly, an obvious signal for the other to stop talking. “Jingyan, where have you been hiding him?” he snorts, amused. “Perhaps he should come manage things for me.”

That is exactly what Jingyan does not want. “Royal father—”

“As you can see,” Lin Shu cuts in, sending Jingyan a look to just listen. “Lieutenant-General Lie does not partake in much fighting at all. The army has records on his service, I’m sure anyone can check if they don’t believe me.  His level is perfect for me to prove my point, don’t you agree?”

“Your Majesty—” the Northern Yan envoy tries to protest, but is halted by Baili Qi himself.

“Let him try,” Baili Qi spits in the face of being continually insulted. “Skilled warrior or not, it doesn’t matter.”

There is silence from the Emperor who exhales finally. “Fine. Xiao Shu,” he has an expression that is hard to read. “You have five days.”

“Thank you, your Majesty!”

Jingyan can’t fucking believe that’s how he gets betrayed by his best friend.

“—Jingyan! Oh my god, Jingyan—JINGYAN!” Lin Shu bellows loud enough that the guards past the palace gate hears him, but Jingyan is too angry to stop.

“Your Highness…” Zhanying trails uncertainly after him, trying to match his fast pace.

“You dumbass water buffalo, just listen to me!” Lin Shu manages to catch up, snatching Jingyan by the wrist. 

Jingyan is extremely moody, face sour as anything as he notices both Prince Qi and Duchess Nihuang hurrying to catch up to them as well. 

“I can’t believe you would do that to me!” Jingyan hisses, jabbing Lin Shu on the shoulder.

“What, you mean saving your ass from being destroyed by Baili Qi?”

“Children,” Prince Qi interrupts, a serene but stern face on. “Let’s talk about this in private, hm? Come to my place.” He cajoles Jingyan with some gentle pats on his shoulder before the other acquiesces. “Lieutenant-General Lie,” he nods at the one who had automatically bowed to leave. “Come along. This involves you too.”

The Eastern palace is admittedly, a beautiful compound, with the spring flowers in the garden in full bloom. The servants are waved away after bringing in tea and snacks, to which Jingyan chews on a hazelnut pastry to calm his anger. It doesn’t help that much though.

“I asked you to help me, not to make it worse,” he grumbles towards Lin Shu. “If you want to embarrass yourself, you could have left Zhanying out of it.”

“Your Highness,” this time, Zhanying himself speaks up. “I do not understand what is being asked of me, although I will fulfil it to my best ability if needed.”

“See!” Lin Shu crows, pointing a finger. “He’s up for it!”

“Because he has no idea what death wish you made for him!”

“Children…” Prince Qi’s voice warns them to halt the argument there and then. “Lieutenant-General Lie, let’s fill you in on what had happened.”

The ever still voice of reason, Prince Qi explains to Zhanying the loss Xiao Jingrui had suffered to Baili Qi, and the consequences if they do let Baili Qi continue in the tournament. He goes on to relate the bet Lin Shu has proposed— 

“—Xiao Shu,” he starts, “Do you really have a plan? Or is this just a tactic to delay the tournament to think of a better plan?”

“...Seems like none of you have any faith in me,” Lin Shu mutters after gaping at the accusation. “At least I have a wife who believes in me.”

“Actually,” Duchess Nihuang sighs. “I am very curious to see how this will play out.”

Jingyan frowns. “That is not comforting at all.”

“Well, I mean it’s not impossible,” she soothes Lin Shu who had given her a pout. “There are many fighting styles in the world that unskilled men can pick up quickly given the right direction, and it is true that Baili Qi has a specific skill set. He’s strong, given his physique, but it also means he’s limited in how fast he can be. If Xiao Jingrui had used a lighter sword and focused on speed training, I think he would have a good chance.”

“Then you should have suggested that to my father, not bring Zhanying into this!”

“Jingrui is hurt,” Lin Shu snaps, narrowing his eyes. “Didn’t you see him clutching his chest? He’s not going to be in tip top shape to train and fight Baili Qi in five days. Look,” he taps the table with two fingers forcely. “Just trust me, okay? Am I not the smartest fucking person in the entire world? Did you think I proposed this just to poke fun at your marriage? I’m trying to help you! You didn’t make it easy to help—if you had just accepted Prince Qi da-ge’s help months ago, or even wrote me a fucking letter about it, we would have options! But you didn’t,” he snarls, “And we have nothing else, so what the fuck are you complaining about water buffalo?” he demands, fury ablaze in his gaze. “I can leave you to marry Baili Qi, see if I fucking care!”

At this, Jingyan simmers quietly. “...Sorry,” he mumbles, earning an indignant huff. “I just…” he sighs. “Must it be Zhanying?”

Lin Shu squints. “Why are you so concerned if it's Zhanying?”

“Your Highness,” Zhanying intrudes. “I will help.”

Jingyan swallows the uneasy feeling in his throat. “I know you will, it’s just…Baili Qi is dangerous. After being insulted in front of everyone, I’m afraid he will not go easy on you. Zhanying, this is really not your burden to bear.”

“Even so,” Zhanying nods. “I think we should try anyway.”

“I knew I called on the right man!” Lin Shu slaps Zhanying’s back heartily. “And that’s exactly why it has to be Zhanying—who else will be able to survive my training, if not out of loyalty for you?”

It is very weird not to have Zhanying in the Jing manor. Jingyan wasn’t exactly lying that he couldn’t spare Zhanying a week of his duties—sure, other men scramble to cover while Zhanying is away, but it isn’t the level of standard Jingyan is used to. He lacklusterly sips the congee that was brought to him more than thirty minutes past the usual time Zhanying or a kitchen staff will bring it. 

Lin Shu told him to stay put and stop coming over to the Lin manor, where Zhanying is currently staying, so that he will not interfere with the training. But it is inevitable that Jingyan is anxious—this whole thing decides his fate. As much as he trusts Lin Shu to do what is best for him, he does not have much hope in Zhanying improving so drastically in five days that he can beat a man Xiao Jingrui could not.

On the third day, he sneaks his way into the Lin manor, unable to sit still at home with no updates. Lin Shu looks absolutely gleeful that he is proven right that Jingyan could not take his advice, holding out a hand towards Duchess Nihuang.

“I won the bet,” he says, eye bright. “You owe me the bow you bullied Zhen Ping into giving you.”

“I didn’t bully him,” the Duchess smacks his hand. “You told him to give it to me on our third anniversary.”

Jingyan can’t be bothered to hear about their weird courtship. “Where is Zhanying? I want to speak to him.”

“You fret like a concubine,” Lin Shu snorts. “He’s in my study room, I gave him some readings to do. You have ten minutes only, you got that? I’ll come throw you out if you stay any longer.”

Zhanying is indeed in Lin Shu’s study, pouring over a cultural textbook that Jingyan recognises because he studied that in his younger years. He looks remarkably normal—Jingyan had sort of feared the other would’ve lost weight under whatever harsh “training” Lin Shu is conducting.

“Your Highness,” Zhanying sets the book down to greet him immediately when he slides the door open. 

“Don’t bother,” Jingyan gestures to him to sit down before he can stand. “How is everything?” He looks at the book again. “Why are you reading a textbook on Da Liang’s history?”

“Marshal Lin said it’s important,” Zhanying says, a slight shrug to his shoulders. “I didn’t question it,” he pauses. “Or I did, but he wasn’t willing to explain.”

“What about your physical training?”

Zhanying winces while discomfort runs over his face. “...My muscles are sore. I haven’t felt like this since basic military training.”

“Xiao Shu is teaching you something,” Jingyan states, just to be sure.

“A taolu,” the other replies. “I’ve learned the movements, but I am still too slow for Marshal Lin’s liking.”

Jingyan nods slowly. “I see.”

A still silence comes between them until Zhanying suddenly starts solemnly. “Your Highness, I’ll be frank,” he exhales. “I…I don’t think I can beat Baili Qi. I will try my best, of course, until my last breath. But I’m afraid…” he trails off. “I’m afraid I’m still lacking.”

“There’s still two more days to go,” Jingyan says intently. “Zhanying, whether you win or lose, I…I have much to thank you for already. Xiao Shu chose you for a reason, so I should believe in that,” he continues, unsure whether he truly believes it, but he does believe in this at least, “I am, and will not ever, be disappointed in you. So do not worry about that, and I will be cheering you on.”

“You’ve overpraised me,” Zhanying demurrs, face flushed slightly. “You are right, I’m only just past half way through Marshal Lin’s training. I will do you proud, your Highness.”

“That’s extremely touching, even Wei Zheng doesn’t love me that much,” a voice amusedly comments, calling attention to the one at the door, Lin Shu. “Your ten minutes is up, Jingyan, now go away. Zhanying, let’s go to the field. I want you to recite pages forty nine to seventy six of the book while going through the movements. Any word out of place, and you’ll start all over—”

“Xiao Shu—” Jingyan raises a protest, but the other two have already disappeared.

Baili Qi versus Lie Zhanying.

Jingyan has never been this stressed for anything—not even when he was called upon to pursue Xie Yu who had left for Meiling prior with nefarious plans to betray the Chiyan army instead of helping them with reinforcements. The match is in the palace, in the same hall where the lunch to the original top ten fighters was served. Zhanying is dressed quite lightly—no sign of his usual armour, instead, just his purple garb. Lin Shu whispers low enough for only him and Zhanying to hear before they are called to stand to greet the Emperor.

“You may all arise,” the Emperor nods. “Let’s begin.”

Zhanying bows deeply towards the Emperor before taking his place in the middle of the hall. Baili Qi faces him—even though Zhanying is tall, it is undeniable how Baili Qi is even larger than him.

A deep breath, and it begins.

There is no hesitation in Zhanying’s movements. He slides out his sword in a split second, swinging it forward towards Baili Qi’s neck with every intention to kill. The determination and perhaps, bloodlust, is surprising enough from the seemingly mild mannered general that Baili Qi flinches back. 

Jingyan’s breath catches in his throat. Of course he knows Zhanying has killed his fair share of men on the battlefield by his side. But he’s always been sort of preoccupied with his own fights, that he’s never really watched Zhanying in action. Zhanying is methodical, quick, and precise—he’s definitely following a choreographed dance of movements, but it’s not completely rigid. There’s a certain fierce intent to it, like he’s going to take every opportunity to maim Baili Qi where possible, without much care for whether he gets hurt along the way.

It’s all happening very fast, Zhanying is moving quicker than even Jingyan thinks he can move, and once or twice he manages to draw small swipes of blood from Baili Qi with his sword glancing off the other’s skin. Baili Qi is not to be deterred, trying to use his imposing figure to knock Zhanying off balance, but it seems like no matter where he lunges, Zhanying dodges out of the way.

Finally, Zhanying manages a kick to the back of Baili Qi’s knees, bringing the other down in a slipup. Jingyan has no idea whether it is a lucky hit, but in the next moment Zhanying is poised to run his sword straight through Baili Qi’s throat—

“STOP!” Lin Shu yells, and Zhanying jerks, hand trembling with the effort to freeze in time before he beheads the poor man.

“...I….” Zhanying swallows, blinking rapidly, like he's just come to the situation at hand. “Do you yield?”

Baili Qi slumps backward in absolute shock of missing death by a hair's breadth, nodding faintly before lowering his head down.

There’s a slow round of applause before it picks up heartily, especially with Yujin’s excited shouts. As Zhanying collects himself, Jingyan stares—he still can’t really process that Zhanying, his Zhanying, the Zhanying that has never once beaten him in a spar, dominated a man nearly twice his size without a blink.

Oh god, what did Xiao Shu turn his general into?

“Very good, very good!” the Emperor laughs, obviously impressed with the show. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been hiding your skills, hm?”

His eye turns on Zhanying with interest. 

“Your Majesty, I assure you it’s all thanks to me,” Lin Shu flourishes a bow. “Since I won this bet, shouldn’t I be rewarded?”

The Emperor laughs again. “Of course, of course! Lin Xie, your son has done it again.”

The Marshal only snorts, looking faintly annoyed. “Of course he has.”

“Xiao Shu,” the Emperor indulges. “What do you want?”

“I want my own manor,” Lin Shu says, and then it’s suddenly very clear to Jingyan why Lin Shu had “helped”. “My father is still against it, I beg your Majesty to ask him to reconsider. Or better yet, order him to reconsider.”

“You have the Lin manor, and the house of Mu—” Lin Xie starts angrily. 

“But they’re not mine,” Lin Shu whines. “I want a residence of my own. Jingyan got his when he was sixteen —it’s not fair I’m thirty and I still don’t have one!”

“Lin Xie,” the Emperor chuckles. “Let him have it, hm? Xiao Shu, I’ll give you any land you want in the capital, just let the Ministry of Public Works know.”

“Thank you, your Majesty!” Lin Shu grins. “This is why you are my favourite royal uncle!”

Inwardly, Jingyan scoffs—he has no idea how Lin Shu can suck up to his father every time.

“T-this, this is not fair!” The Northern Yan envoy suddenly cries out. “Your Majesty, this, this…general is not one of the tournament contenders, so the outcome of this match doesn’t change anything!”

The Emperor cocks his head. “Doesn’t change anything?” he repeats with mild distaste. “The tournament is not over—if Lieutenant-General Lie wishes to take part officially, he can just beat Baili Qi again, no?”

“But, but—” the Northern Yan envoy is clearly grasping for straws at the unfair push out. “But there is still the written exam—”

“Yes, there is still the written exam!” Lin Shu exclaims, clapping his hands. “I have less faith in Baili Qi passing the examination than Lieutenant-General Lie—come on, he manages a noble prince’s household and army, you think he’s stupid ?” he laughs. “Hey Zhanying, why don’t you recite the genealogy of the royal family starting from two thousand years ago, like you did flawlessly for me yesterday?”

Jingyan wouldn’t have thought Zhanying would know something like that, but Lin Shu had given Zhanying textbooks to read…oh…so that’s what that was for.

“Also, Baili Qi sustained some injuries—perhaps it would be better if he went home to rest?” Lin Shu finishes serenely.

“Indeed, he should rest,” the Emperor agrees, smiling widely. “You may take your leave any time.”

Seeing that there is no way out, the Northern Yan envoy reluctantly gathers Baili Qi and excuses himself out of the hall. There is laughter behind their backs, and the loudest of all is from the Emperor. Jingyan feels a flash of pity for the men, but he reminds himself he nearly married the ugliest warrior in the world—what a close shave.

God damn Xiao Shu.

“Your Majesty,” Lin Shu raises his cup toward the Emperor. “Since we all know who will win the tournament, why not announce the engagement now?”

“What?” Jingyan sits up, clearly not being briefed about this part of the plan (or any of it, for that matter).

The Emperor is equally confused. “What do you mean?”

Lin Shu gestures to Zhanying, who has remained quiet and still since the end of his fight. “All of you saw how he took down Baili Qi,” he smirks. “Who’s going to beat him? You, Yujin?”

“Er…” Yujin winces. “Probably not?”

“What about you, Zhen Ping?” Lin Shu throws. “You’re one of the best fighters in Chiyan.”

“To be honest,” Zhen Ping clasps his hands together. “I’d rather not.”

Murmurings rise between the remaining contestants—seeing Baili Qi thrash Xiao Jingrui in the last round, and then being taken out so quickly by Lieutenant-General Lie…perhaps…they should reconsider. But, if the prize is a noble prince, sometimes greed can win rational decisions.

“Lieutenant-General Lie,” the Emperor starts. “You have fought well and defended Jingyan’s honour. I will reward you,” there is a pause. “But you are not an official tournament contender, so, it’s better not to have any ideas.”

Jingyan’s jaw slackens. Of course. Of fucking course—no matter what, background, status, bloodline…it matters to his father. Even if Zhanying proves himself to be far more capable than anyone, the choice will boil down to either one of the slimy gits his brothers had put forth.

Fucking hell.

“But your Majesty—” Lin Shu starts, surprised at the remark considering that the Emperor said something totally opposite mere minutes ago.

“The tournament will resume tomorrow,” the Emperor announces with a voice that even Lin Shu did not dare to protest. 

“Oh my god, I want a bolt of lightning to strike his stupid head!” Lin Shu vents angrily, storming up and down Jingyan’s study, where he had barged in after they were dismissed from the palace. “My plan was fucking fool proof! How can he be so fucking hypocritial after he’d just said that the tournament isn’t over and that Zhanying is an offical contender?”

“Xiao Shu—”

“How can he just take that back? Like he didn’t say anything? Everyone heard him! Jingyan, you heard him, why aren’t you angry?!” he demands.

Jingyan rolls his eyes. “He’s always been like this, don’t you know?” he snorts. “Besides,” he narrows his eyes. “You had no problems when my father gifted you your own personal manor.”

“Well,” Lin Shu grins sheepishly. “I saw a chance and I took it. Anyway, I was trying to take the heat off Zhanying,” he argues. “Did you see how he was totally planning to take Zhanying for himself? You’d cry if he did!”

“I still can’t believe…” Jingyan trails off. “What exactly did you teach Zhanying? Five days is not enough for him to beat Baili Qi. It’s just not.”

Lin Shu smirks, flicking his pony tail over his shoulder with a proud puff of the chest. “I’m just that fucking good.”

“No way.”

“Why not? You saw it,” he grins, lighting up even further when Zhanying knocks on the door gently to bring in a teapot and snacks. “Zhanying, why don’t you tell Jingyan what I taught you, so that he knows I wasn’t cheating?”

Zhanying kneels by their side, handing out the teacups of hot water after pouring them. “...Marshal Lin,” he exhales. “You did cheat.”

Lin Shu spits out his water. “What! I tirelessly trained you for five days! You did the training! How did I cheat?!”

Zhanying sat back on his heels, features placid. “It is true that you trained me harshly. I did improve, but it’s definitely not enough to beat someone like Baili Qi.”

“But you beat him—”

“Because Baili Qi moved exactly as the taolu you taught me would predict,” Zhanying finishes. “Not one single step out of place. That is why I was never hit. There is absolutely no way you would have known, unless…”

“Unless,” Jingyan catches on, realisation dawning. “Baili Qi is one of your men. Xiao Shu,” he deadpans, tone dangerously calm. “Why did you stop Zhanying from slashing his throat? Tell me the truth. Now.”

“What, you expected Zhanying to splatter blood all over the Emperor? Anyway, he could be lying!” Lin Shu protests wildly, but then sighs when Jingyan does not budge. “Fucking hell, Zhanying, couldn’t you have told a goddamn lie once in your life?”

“Xiao Shu—” Jingyan is shaking with indescribable anger. “Y-you—you, you —”

“Heyy…come on, I did help, right?” Lin Shu laughs nervously, fanning Jingyan with his hands. “When I heard you were ignoring Prince Qi da-ge’s help, I knew Jingxuan and Jinghuan would do something skeevy, so I sent Baili Qi just in case. He’s a Jiangzuo Alliance member. If you did like someone in the line up, then Baili Qi will just lose to him, problem solved.”

Jingyan is still silent.

“Jingyan…come on Jingyan,” Lin Shu pleads. “Look, I have your best interests at heart! I even tried to get Zhanying engaged to you, you can’t blame me that your father is a dick!”

“That’s precisely why I’m so angry!” Jingyan roars, slamming the table with his hand. “How dare you bring Zhanying into your stupid games—”

“Your Highness, please calm down,” Zhanying hastily inserts. “I didn’t suffer any harm—”

“But you could have,” Jingyan snaps. “Xiao Shu, you don’t know how cruel my father can be,” he says, breath still and controlled by fury. “You weren’t here when Prince Qi da-ge was first accused of treason. Did you know,” he says, voice quiet. “My father wrote an edict to execute him?”

“Wait, what?” Lin Shu eyes goes wide.

“Luckily Grand Princess Liyang came forward to expose Xie Yu’s crimes in time, otherwise…”

“Jingyan—you…why didn’t you tell me that? Rather why didn’t anyone tell me that?” Lin Shu demands.

“Because no one else saw it!” Jingyan snaps. “I went to beg father to see reason after Prince Qi da-ge was imprisoned. I wasn’t allowed in, but I barged my way anyway. And I saw the edict freshly written on the table, while Gao gong-gong was begging my father to reconsider. There was no proof, no evidence—and yet…he wanted to…” he inhales harshly. “Prince Qi da-ge does not know, and I do not intend to tell him. I trust you won’t either. The point is,” he exhales. “You put Zhanying in front of a man like that—I will never forgive you if something happened to him. Do you understand?”

For once, Lin Shu is speechless. He closes his mouth after a while and nods in defeat. “I am sorry, Jingyan. I just…wanted the best for you.”

Jingyan can only scoff. “How was that the best?”

“You are in love with Zhanying, are you not?”

At that, time seemed to stand still. 

Jingyan turns to glance at Zhanying, who looks back equally blankly and hesitantly. Jingyan furrows his eyebrows. “...Xiao Shu, I don’t know what games you’re playing here.”

Lin Shu presses his lips together, looking annoyed. “Zhanying,” he gestures. “Can you leave? Since Jingyan doesn’t want to have this conversation with you.”

Zhanying flits his gaze between the other two, bowing shortly to leave before Jingyan can say anything.

“He’s so obedient, I love that,” Lin Shu sighs happily before taking a sip from his cup.

“Explain yourself,” Jingyan takes the cup in Lin Shu’s hands away, putting it far away in spite. 

“Hey—” Lin Shu groans. “I don’t know what you want me to explain,” he crosses his arms. “I tried to get you engaged with someone you do love. I failed. End of story.”

“I…—”

“Jingyan, if you’re trying to tell me that you don’t have feelings for him…” he snorts. “May I just remind you that you yelled at me a mere second ago for putting him in potential danger?”

“...I yell at you all the time.”

“Yeah, but are you ever really angry at me?” Lin Shu hums. “You said you wouldn’t forgive me,” he tilts his head. “And I know you meant it.”

“...”

“Come on,” Lin Shu whines. “Is it really so hard to admit that I guessed your secret crush correctly? I mean, it’s not like it's not super obvious or anything.”

“I don’t—” Jingyan fumbles, but it’s purely because he has no idea how to react. “...How is it obvious?”

“You’re overbearing,” Lin Shu says simply. “Once a upon a time, you were overprotective of me. But when I think about the last half decade…it’s just been ‘Zhanying do this’ or ‘Zhanying do that’—”

“Because he’s my second in command!”

“And you never thought about giving him opportunities to serve beyond your household?” Lin Shu presses. “Jingyan, someone like Zhanying could give the old fogey Minister of War a run for his money. If he was trained in court or palace administration, god, he would be so fucking good at it. But you keep him close to you because you don’t want him to enter politics. Because you don’t want him to be embroiled in the nasty fights, and because you can’t bear to let him go. Tell me I’m right when I’m fucking right.”

When Jingyan stays silent, it’s a clear sign that Lin Shu is right after all.

“You’re just lucky Zhanying is devoted to you,” he sniffs. “I tried to have Wei Zheng bribe him to join Chiyan a couple of years ago, and he told me a big fat fucking ‘no’. Can you believe his audacity?” he grumbles, but it is obvious that he relished the story. “Anyway, I tried to help you and I failed, so you’re on your own from here on.”

“It’s not like I can do anything,” Jingyan mutters under his breath. “Father already has made up his mind from the tournament contenders. I know it.”

Lin Shu slaps Jingyan’s shoulder. “Prince Qi da-ge said he’ll handle that, so don’t worry. Beyond that, well, it’s your choice to fight to have Zhanying or not—don’t come crying to me when you get engaged to another ugly ass again.”

Jingyan slaps Lin Shu’s shoulder in return.

Lin Shu and Duchess Nihuang return to Yunnan just as the written examination takes place, saying that their presence in the capital is only tolerated because everyone knows how close they are, but they did not actually have the leave to stay long. Jingyan just dreads every single fucking day, and then he gets called into the palace.

At least, he thinks it would be the official announcement of the winner, and thus his engagement. But when he comes in to see Sima Lei, Prince Xian and Consort Yue kneeling with their heads to the floor and Prince Qi looking absolutely furious that he realises something else has happened.

“Royal father,” he greets, to which the Emperor dismisses with a wave of his hand. “Prince Qi-xiong.”

“Jingyan,” the Emperor starts. “Did Prince Xian invite you for a meal in the last few days?”

Jingyan glances at the man. “Jingxuan-ge did invite me to dinner after Baili Qi’s defeat, but I had plans with Xiao Shu. It was a very weird request,” he recalls. “Like he wanted something from me but was afraid to say it.”

“It’s not that weird!” Jingxuan cries out, only to be hushed. 

“You don’t like me, and you never invited me for dinner before in all my thirty years—isn’t that weird?” Jingyan says straightforwardly.

Usually Jingyan expects a scolding for being too disrespectful at this point, but the Emperor only grunts. 

“It’s a good thing you didn’t go, Jingyan,” Prince Qi says, still glaring. “They planned to drug you with qing si rao, and force Sima Lei on you.”

“What?”

“We’re innocent, your Majesty!” Consort Yue begs, shaking her head. “You can investigate—”

“Shut up!” It’s the first time Jingyan has ever witnessed his father lose his temper towards a consort he’s quite sweet on. “Investigate? I have already investigated!” he all but throws a stack of papers onto the ground. “I have no less than twenty maids and guards from Zhaoren palace who can corroborate what Prince Qi has reported to me. Grand Commander Meng has even confirmed that Sima Lei entered the inner palace on that day without reporting his presence, a clear trespassing violation—and you say that you didn’t have nefarious intent in luring Jingyan—a noble prince, into such an evil trap?”

Jingyan would relish that Consort Yue’s face had gotten whiter than her powder if he wasn’t so shocked and angry himself. 

The Emperor rubs his forehead like he has a headache. “...Prince Xian will be confined to his quarters until further notice. Consort Yue will be demoted two ranks, and her stipend reduced accordingly,” he mutters. “Sima Lei…for trespassing the inner palace his arms and legs will be broken. For having ill designs on a noble prince…he will be executed by flogging.”

“Your Majesty—!”

It is obvious that the Emperor still cherished the mother and son, for the harshest punishment landed onto Sima Lei. As they were all taken away, the Emperor cocks his head at Jingyan’s spaced out expression.

“Jingyan, are you unhappy with how I handled it?”

“No, royal father,” he answers immediately. “I thank you for the swift justice.”

“Because it concerns your propriety, I cannot make this public, do you understand?”

Jingyan resists the urge to say that he isn’t a virgin—but he refrains because he knows it’s a facade to show that his father cares.

“...I understand.”

“As for your tournament,” the Emperor sighs wearily. “It seems like everyone else has passed the written examination. Choose whomever you want.”

Jingyan bites his lip; this is do or die. “...Royal father,” he kneels. “I…I do not want any one of them,” he says bluntly. “Sima Lei was among them—I…I do not feel comfortable knowing someone like him made it through. What about the rest?” he presses earnestly. “What if they’re like him, supported by people who have their own agenda?”

The Emperor frowns, but doesn’t disagree. “...Hm. Jingyan, Prince Qi and I spent a lot of effort on the tournament.”

“I know, and I am grateful,” he says carefully. “But I cannot take the chance that someone like Sima Lei uses me to marry into the royal family.”

“Royal father,” Prince Qi bows his head slightly. “I think…Jingyan has a point. It’s my oversight that I didn’t entrench background screenings tough enough. I hope you can forgive me.”

The Emperor makes a deep sigh. “Fine. You handle it. Jingyan…there will be no next time, are we clear?”

“Yes, royal father,” Jingyan bows, and he is home free.

“Seems like you have learned to be a bit flexible,” Prince Qi says to Jingyan as they stroll out of the court hall. “Nice touch bringing up the royal pedigree.”

Jingyan snorts—because it’s not like he doesn’t know how to be flexible, he just doesn’t want to, because it’s against his morals. However, he will, over his dead body, get married to any one of the top ten, or nine, contenders from this stupid tournament. 

“And you?” he tilts his head. “Where did you find this aphrodisiac?”

“What, you think I set Jingxuan up?” Prince Qi raises his eyebrow. “I assure you they actually did plan it—I just have enough informants around to catch them before it happens.”

“Huh,” Jingyan grunts. “...Disgusting.”

“Very,” Prince Qi agrees. 

“Not just their plan, but,” Jingyan grimaces. “Sima Lei? Ugh. He looks like a horse cart ran over his face when he was born.”

“Jingyan!” Prince Qi tries to hide his snickers. “You’re learning petty things from Xiao Shu.”

“You disagree?”

Prince Qi only smiles, not deigning to reply. “I think royal father will let your engagement issue rest for a while. You should take the chance to court someone you like,” he advises. 

“I don’t have anyone,” Jingyan says stubbornly.

“Uh-huh,” Prince Qi continues smiling. “I know you’ve been away for a long time, and you haven’t had time to date. If you don’t know how to start, your da-ge is always here.”

Jingyan covers his ears. “I don’t want to hear it—”

Everything is perfect for six months. Zhanying never raises up the awkward quip from Lin Shu, and Jingyan never acts on his so-called feelings. Because he cares for Zhanying, there is no way he is willing to put the other under a spotlight. The first male consort? Not a great title to have. The first male consort to the unfavoured noble prince? Even worse. People will gossip about it for centuries. Zhanying’s reputation as a serious and efficient hard worker will be replaced by scandalous whisperings of whether he seduced his way into the royal family. Whether Zhanying rose up in ranks by letting Jingyan fuck him in the ass. 

Jingyan knows this—and that’s why he will never let that happen.

That is, until a marriage offer from the royal palace of Southern Chu comes.

Prince Ling of Southern Chu, Yuwen Xuan, sends a group of ambassadors and a generous, expensive courting gift to both the palace and Jing manor. There is a formal letter asking for Prince Jing’s hand in marriage—plus an outline of benefits and promises to Da Liang with the agreement of this union. Apparently Yuwen Xuan is very interested in Prince Jing, and he did, indeed, appreciate men like Prince Jing.

Jingyan has never met Yuwen Xuan before, but he knows he’s the cousin of Jingrui from his Southern Chu heritage. Honestly, he had thought this is all an elaborate joke from Lin Shu until he received an emergency letter from Lin Shu demanding what the fuck was happening, because he’d heard the rumors. He’d rushed into the palace, seeking his mother first. Consort Jing is apologetic when he asks if she’s heard any more about the situation and if there’s anything she can do.

“Jingyan, I’m afraid it is out of my hands,” she shakes her head. “The courting offer was very detailed. They presented calculations of yours and Prince Ling’s birthdate, proving it to be a blessed match. Your father has told me the Ministry of Rites has confirmed it. I suggested that we should wait until Prince Ling visits the capital to announce the engagement but…I am so sorry I cannot do more.”

Oh my god, Jingyan is doomed. Again.

“Mother, I am already very grateful,” he assured, bowing his head to press on her knee in thanks. “I…I am sorry you have to worry again for me.”

“Of course not,” Consort Jing smiles faintly, cupping his cheek. “Jingyan, your father is very intent to marry you off, so if you do have someone in mind, I suggest that you do not delay—”

“Mother,” Jingyan looks up, aghast. “What has Xiao Shu told you?”

Consort Jing tilts her head. “Xiao Shu? Nothing. Grand Princess Jinyang jie-jie on the other hand…”

Jingyan wants to smack his face into the floor. Trust Lin Shu to tell his parents about Jingyan’s secret crush.

“Jingyan, if you make your choice, I will stand behind you,” she promises.

“...Thank you, mother,” Jingyan says finally. “I…should make some preparations. Please excuse me.”

Yuwen Xuan will arrive in two weeks. 

It’s really not much time at all for Jingyan to plan his escape from the royal palace. Just kidding—Jingyan would much rather go out in his stubborn fashion, being exiled for disobeying an imperial edict. Dramatics aside, Jingyan calms himself and decides to deal with it rationally. Lin Shu isn’t here to help him scheme this time, and there is no way he is asking Prince Qi da-ge for help, so he has to do this on his own.

He calls Jingrui into the Jing manor for a chat.

“Your Highness Prince Jing,” Jingrui greets, allowing himself to be led into Jingyan’s study. “I hope you are well.”

“As well as I can be,” Jingyan replies with a wry smile. “How is your chest? Are you feeling better?”

“I’ve been fully recovered for months now,” Jingrui assures. “The medicine you sent over greatly helped.”

“I’m glad,” Jingyan says, careful not to mention that Lin Shu had done that because he felt kind of bad. “I’m sorry to cut to the chase, but I need you to tell me everything you know about your cousin, Yuwen Xuan.”

“...Ah,” Jingrui nods slowly. “I apologise that he’s put you in a spot, your Highness.”

“Why would you apologise?”

Jingrui shakes his head. “Yuwen Xuan…he has a unique personality. I’m not particularly close with him, but he takes good care of Nian Nian and my…father.”

“Tell me more.”

“I’ll be direct,” Jingrui sits up straight. “Your Highness, I think you will not get along well with him.”

Jingyan blinks, because that is very direct.

“Yuwen Xuan is…calculative. With money, favours, anything. He will always act in the case of self-preservation. He pretends to be stupid and care free, but he is far smarter and more shrewd than most people can imagine. He has a way with twisting words to his advantage. If anything goes wrong, he’s never the one to blame. If anything goes right, it’ll be to his credit.”

Jingyan can’t help himself from flinching, because yes, he will most likely kill this sort of man before he marries him.

“That being said,” Jingrui acknowledges. “I think your Highness will find a common ground with him. He truly cares for those he loves—in this regard, he is like you. Towards Nian Nian, I’ve seen first hand how he protects her, even in times when it’s not beneficial for him. He has no ambition for the Southern Chu throne because he is truly loyal to my father. I believe that he proposed a match with you not because he wants to make your life difficult, but simply because Nian Nian is here. He just wants to be in Da Liang for her.”

Jingyan sighs. “...So convoluted. Couldn’t he just come here to visit?” 

“As you know, a Southern Chu prince staying in Da Liang for an extended period of time is either a punishment or is suspicious. Besides,” Jingrui adds. “Marrying you will give him status in Da Liang. That’s his calculative side.”

Jingyan thinks hard. “And there is no convincing him otherwise?”

“I can speak to Nian Nian, but honestly, she would be thrilled to have him in Da Liang, so I don’t think she will listen to me.”

Jingyan is doomed. Fuck.

“Jingrui, thanks for coming all this way,” Jingyan says eventually. “You have given me lots to think about.”

“If it’s any consolation, your Highness,” Jingrui offers a hesitant smile when he stands to leave. “I don’t think Yuwen Xuan is a bad person. Perhaps you will be able to come to an understanding with him.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Jingyan tosses and turns for four nights before he comes to his decision. He will absolutely not come to an understanding with Yuwen Xuan, an audacious foreigner who wants to exploit Jingyan’s rank for his own gain, no matter how “noble” the original intention is. The thought of having someone like him in charge for the Jing manor—Jingyan might just vomit right now. 

There is only one way left to go. 

It’s a couple of days till the arrival of Yuwen Xuan, and the palace is busy with his engagement preparations. Jingyan refuses to enter the palace, despite knowing that the Emperor is furious at his defiance. Somehow, maybe via his mother or Prince Qi or just people who actually still care about his happiness, have restrained his father from giving him confinement punishment. 

The plum blossoms in the Jing manor have flowered recently, and Jingyan takes his time to stroll around the garden to savour the calm and peaceful sight. Zhanying is trailing behind him quietly, obviously worried about him because he hadn’t stomached the whole portion of lunch just now.

“...Zhanying,” Jingyan ventures. “What do you think about Yuwen Xuan?”

“I don’t think I have much to say, your Highness,” he admits. “I do not know him.”

“But you have heard…things…about him, haven’t you?”

“Army chatter,” Zhanying indulges. “Gossip. Nothing substantial, beyond what young Master Xiao Jingrui has shared with you.”

Jingyan exhales. “If I marry him, he will move into the manor.”

“Yes…” Zhanying trails off when there’s an expectant look at him, not understanding Jingyan’s point.

“You might need to serve him.”

“Your Highness,” Zhanying bows. “Anyone of your household, I will serve willingly. Please do not worry about that.”

Sometimes Jingyan just wants to shake Zhanying hard. “That’s the thing, Zhanying,” he pauses, looking at the other intently. “I don’t want you to.” Zhanying blinks, gears in his brain trying to catch up, but Jingyan didn’t make it easy. “Zhanying,” he tries again. “If I asked you to marry me, would you?”

His voice might have cracked halfway out of desperation, but he really did feel…desperate.

“Your Highness,” Zhanying knelt with his head down, probably to cover his expression of pure confusion. “If you need me to, I will do as you ask.”

“I don’t need you to,” Jingyan corrects, although that point is debatable currently. “I want you to.”

“...I don’t understand, your Highness,” Zhanying says finally. 

“How much clearer do I need to make it?” Jingyan states, his nervousness turning into hopelessness, because there is no way Zhanying didn’t understand him, unless he is trying to respectfully rebuff Jingyan’s request. “If I had a choice, I would want you to be my consort. My first choice,” he emphasises. “But I understand this is not something you may want, and I have no desire to force you. I just need you to tell me directly, so that I can give up on hope that you might say yes.”

Zhanying is quiet for a very long time.

 “...Your Highness, I…” and then he finally raises his head, where his face is flushed with a pretty pink, even pinker than the plum blossoms around them. “I, I don’t know what consorts do.”

Of all the responses, Jingyan isn’t prepared for that one. 

He furrows his eyebrows. “They manage the household,” he says simply. “Like you already do,” he adds. “And accompany me to events. Which…you usually do.”

Zhanying squirms, and Jingyan takes pity on him.

“Zhanying, you can say no,” he starts, gentle. “I know it is a big ask, and I…I know what people will say about you. I know I am asking more of you than you’ve sworn to me. I swear I will do everything I can to protect you. But if you decline, I too swear I won’t be upset, and I will not treat you any differently from before. We will never bring this up again.”

“It’s not that, your Highness,” Zhanying responds. “Permission to be direct?”

“Of course.”

“...Do you really have feelings for me?” Zhanying asks, eyes bright and disbelieving. 

Jingyan almost laughs. Even in the face of an obvious confession, Zhanying has the audacity to want Jingyan, a noble prince, to say it out loud.

Instead, Jingyan kneels down, matching Zhanying in height in front of him, and kisses him. 

He hears the soft hitch of breath Zhanying takes before their mouths meet. It’s remarkably tender, the gentle bump of the lips; it reminds Jingyan of the first time he glanced at Zhanying, looking all worn out and yet still very insistent on guarding Jingyan’s tent past midnight on one mundane border inspection in Dong Hai, and felt his heart skip. Now, Jingyan feels his chest flutter like a mad flurry—the feeling is indescribable, and he never wants to pull back.

It’s Zhanying who does, with a hand on Jingyan’s chest, breathing heavily to catch his breath. For a moment, Zhanying stares at the hand he has on Jingyan’s silk robe, uncomprehending before he quickly retracts. Jingyan catches the hand, bringing it back to press against his chest.

“Zhanying…do you believe me now?”

Zhanying audibly swallows. “...Yes.”

“And your answer?” Jingyan presses, because he wants this, goddammit.

Not some uncouth warrior like Balili Qi, not some slimy piece of shit like Sima Lei, not some dubious self-serving prince like Yuwen Xuan—he wants Zhanying, his Lieutenant-General, the one who stood by his side and comforted him while his world fell apart, while his father pretended that he never had plans to execute his first born son without an investigation, while everyone thinks Xie Yu and Xia Jiang’s evil doings were exposed just in time to reinstate Prince Qi and the Chiyan army so that is all water under the bridge to a happy ending, but Jingyan knows, he knows deep in his heart that he is changed by that day and he is never the same again.

“Yes,” Zhanying says softly, with his dimples peeking at the edge of his mouth. “If your Highness finds me worthy.”

Jingyan almost laughs again.

“Worthy,” he repeats, smiling. “Zhanying, you have no idea how worthy you are,” he murmurs before kissing the other again.

Reluctantly, Jingyan finds Prince Qi to help him. The reason why he’s been holding back all this while is because he never wants to put Prince Qi in a position where the Emperor is suspicious of him again. Because if Prince Qi outright does too much for him—the Emperor might wonder if Prince Qi controls him, and by extension, the Jing army. If the crown prince has more influence over the rest of the princes than the Emperor and has a military backing, it becomes an all too familiar story again, one that nearly sent the crown prince to his death. 

But it’s one day away from Yuwen Xuan’s arrival—and it’s about time Jingyan breaks the chains of being so afraid of what his cruel father can do that he’s purposefully distanced himself from the brother he admires so much.

“Da-ge,” he greets a surprised Prince Qi in the Eastern palace. “Mind if Zhanying joins us today? It’s important.”

“Of course,” Prince Qi gestures to them to come into his study, where a brazier is placed. “What’s up? I heard you still haven’t spoken to father about your engagement with the Southern Chu prince.”

“That’s exactly why I’ve come to you,” Jingyan says. “I…I have someone else in mind,” he admits. “I’m asking you to help me, please,” he bows low. “Please, da-ge.”

“Jingyan,” Prince Qi looks worried at the sudden grovel of intimate respect, pulling him up. “Don’t worry, of course I will help you. What do you need me to do?”

Jingyan can nearly cry with relief. “I need you to convince father that Yuwen Xuan is not a good match for me.”

Prince Qi sighs. “...I have already tried, but Prince Ling was very thorough with the benefits his union with you will bring to Da Liang,” he says, tapping his fingers in thought. “What about the person you choose? Perhaps I can convince father that they will be an even better match…?”

Jingyan knows it’s not a subtle question about who this mystery person is. “It’s Zhanying,” he says bluntly. “I want him to be my consort.”

Prince Qi stares at Zhanying—who, to his credit, does not flinch under the gaze from the crown prince—but only for a second. “...Huh. I should’ve known,” he remarks, like they are just discussing the weather. “Xiao Shu figured it out long ago, didn’t he?”

“We’re not talking about him,” Jingyan grumbles. “Da-ge, got any ideas?”

“If you’ve just followed my original plan and have Lieutenant-General Lie win the tournament…”

“Well, Zhanying did win, and father made it very clear he wouldn’t accept him,” Jingyan points out. 

“Hm,” Prince Qi deliberates. “He is quite particular about bloodline. Lieutenant-General Lie, tell me about your family.”

“...I am an orphan, your Highness,” Zhanying says hesitantly. 

“Oh,” Prince Qi blinks. “Well, that’s going to be tough. Maybe we can fake a backstory, like you’re a long lost heir of—”

“Da-ge!” Jingyan interrupts. “I will not lie about Zhanying’s ancestry. I don’t care if he’s an orphan or not, and if someone finds out…”

“Fine, fine,” Prince Qi soothes. “Why don’t you take a walk around the gardens, Jingyan? Let me chat with Lieutenant-General Lie—perhaps I will think of something else to help us.”

“Why do you want me to leave?” Jingyan narrows his eyebrows in suspicion.

“With you here, you’ll try to answer everything on his behalf,” Prince Qi says pointedly. “So please, leave us alone for at least an hour.”

“...Fine. You will not come up with something illegal,” Jingyan glares in warning.

“Nothing illegal,” Prince Qi agrees, smiling. “Go on.”

It’s a cold day, but Jingyan did need that walk to cool his head. When he strolls back to Prince Qi’s study, he hears a bit of laughter from the inside—of course the ever charming crown prince has already grown camaraderie with Jingyan’s most trusted man within one measly hour.

“Jingyan!” Prince Qi delights, clapping his hands at the sight of the other. “I have the perfect plan. You can sleep without worry tonight.”

When nothing more comes, Jingyan cocks his head. “Not going to tell me?”

“I think you should wait until we break it to father,” Prince Qi says excitedly. “You will most certainly love it.”

“I do not like surprises—Xiao Shu is a bad influence on you,” Jingyan frowns. “Zhanying?”

Prince Qi throws an arm in front of Zhanying before he can reply. “Just be patient, Jingyan. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Jingyan knows when his brother is in a mood, it’s hard to argue against it. “Then let’s go see father right now.”

“I said be patient,” Prince Qi sighs, gesturing to Jingyan to sit down. “I’ve just sent out a letter confirming the details of what Lieutenant-General Lie has told me, and we should get a reply by tomorrow early morning, before Yuwen Xuan arrives. So don’t worry, Jingyan,” he smiles, patting Jingyan’s back. “Stay for dinner. Lieutenant-General Lie, you too, of course. We have much to talk about, my younger brother-in-law.”

Jingyan has never felt more embarrassed in his life. “Da-ge—!”

Once court is open next morning, Prince Qi whisks both Jingyan and Zhanying to the palace. The Emperor looks mildly annoyed, like he’d expected some sort of last minute, last ditch effort of a protest of Jingyan’s engagement.

“My greetings to you, Royal father,” Prince Qi bows, and Jingyan and Zhanying echo the sentiment.

The Emperor covers his yawn, waving it away. “Jingyan, have you come to make trouble? I’ve told you I won’t indulge you the next time, hm?”

“Royal father,” Jingyan kneels, taking a deep breath to calm himself as Prince Qi has warned him. “I am grateful for your care. But I cannot, in good conscience, marry someone I don’t love.” The Emperor’s face is steadily getting darker, but he pushes through. “I want to formally request your permission to marry someone I do love.”

“Oh? And who is that?”

Jingyan glances at Zhanying—the movement is obvious, and the Emperor is not blind. 

“...Lieutenant-General Lie,” the Emperor recites slowly, an underlying air of threat stark. “You should know your place.”

“Royal father,” Jingyan persists. “Zhanying is the best candidate—”

“ENOUGH!” The Emperor yells, red-faced. “I am not stopping you from keeping a…a companion…if you so wish,” he punctuates. “But marriage,” he emphasises, “Is not meant to be with your servants. Xiao Jingyan, you are a noble prince. Why don’t you know your duty?!”

“Royal father, please don’t be angry,” Prince Qi soothes, but is also shouted at.

“And you—! You should know better than to encourage your brother in this foolishness!”

“If it was foolish, I would certainly agree,” Prince Qi says, unfazed. “But Royal father, Lieutenant-General Lie is…I dare say it….is a better option than Prince Ling.”

“Better?” The Emperor scoffs, but he’s also obviously a bit intrigued by the declaration. 

“You see,” Prince Qi smiles, and Jingyan knows this is exactly what the other wanted to announce like it’s a goddamn celestial revelation. “Lieutenant-General Lie is an orphan, but he is adopted.”

“You are?” Jingyan jerks to stare, to which Zhanying nods meekly.

“Well, legally…Lieutenant-General Wei Zheng of the Chiyan army adopted me when I was eleven and he was eighteen,” Zhanying elaborates. “It’s never come up or been an issue administratively, so...”

“Correct,” Prince Qi continues. “And Lieutenant-General Wei Zheng, or more commonly known in Jianghu as Yun Piaoliao’s husband, is the current Yaowang Valley heir.”

Immediately, Jingyan can see the gears turning in the Emperor’s head, putting two and two together, following the lead of where Prince Qi is concluding towards.

“Wei Zheng and Yun Piaoliao have no children of their own,” Prince Qi says. “Therefore as it stands, Lieutenant-General Lie is next in line to inherit Yaowang Valley and all its dealings.”

“...And this is better than Prince Ling’s offer, because…?”

“Because,” Prince Qi is definitely relishing this as he pulls out a letter from his front robe. “Yaowang Valley has put in an offer for Lieutenant-General Lie’s dowry. I think you will find it very hard to reject, Royal father.”

The Emperor almost snatches the letter once it’s brought over to him in suspense. The letter is read in careful detail—and it’s pretty long, running page after page after page. Finally, when the Emperor gets to the sealed wax stamp at the end and the blood thumbprint, he exhales, putting the parchment onto the table.

“...Yaowang Valley does not ever do business with the palace,” the Emperor says finally, voice in disbelief. “What did you say to change their minds?”

“Nothing, Royal father,” Prince Qi assures. “They only wish to support their heir, should we accept him into the family.”

“And Prince Ling?”

“With all due respect, Royal father, Da Liang and Southern Chu are at peace,” Prince Qi points out. “Xiao Jingrui is the son of their current King, and their Princess is married to Jingting. There is no need for another union, and surely Prince Ling knows that. Why else has he tried to offer so much for Jingyan’s hand? I believe he will not retaliate if we decline the match.”

The Emperor takes his time to think, reading the letter from Yaowang Valley again. He grunts.

“Jingyan,” he looks up finally. “It’s about time that Prince Ling arrives in the capital. You go and receive him.”

Jingyan gapes at the sheer disappointment crashing into his stomach. “Royal father—”

“You can tell him to his face your intentions with his engagement offer,” the Emperor continues. “Are you satisfied?”

Jingyan snaps his jaw shut in surprise. “...Y-yes, Royal father. I thank you for your generosity.”

“Lieutenant-General Lie,” the Emperor calls just as they bow to leave. “Stay behind. I want to speak to you directly.”

Jingyan nearly protests but is silenced by the sharp shake of the head from Prince Qi. He reluctantly backs away, hoping that Prince Qi will oversee that nothing happens to Zhanying—after all, he did make the impossible happen.

Jingyan is going to love telling Yuwen Xuan to fuck off.

It takes about four more months, but Jingyan finally stands next to Zhanying in a deep red wedding robe, weary as he opens the door to his—or their—private quarters after the exhausting long ceremony. Zhanying immediately reaches to grab a tray with a teapot, but Jingyan stops him.

“It’s been a long day,” he says, with a smile on his lips. “Let’s just rest, alright?”

Zhanying nods slowly, obviously unused to not being allowed to serve Jingyan. “Yes, your Highness.”

“You are my consort,” Jingyan tilts his chin upwards, catching the faint blush that bloomed. “You can use my first name in private.”

“...I…I will get to that, your Highness,” Zhanying says.

“Hm,” Jingyan can’t help but grin. 

It’s hard to believe that he’s married. Well and truly married, to someone he loves. He may be unfavoured, but amongst all the princes, he won his happiness. And that’s better than any stupid pearl his father can bestow.

“I was thinking…” Jingyan starts. “That we can visit Yaowang Valley for a few months. Maybe even for a year, if Wei Zheng is willing to host us for that long.”

“You want to leave the capital?” Zhanying blinks.

“Zhanying,” he whispers, like it’s a secret. “I never wanted to return, because out there, there is no need for all the stuffy etiquette—you can be close to me.”

Zhanying’s dimples peek out, even though he tries very hard not to blush harder. “What about her Lady Consort Jing?”

“She’ll come with us,” Jingyan nods. “Yaowang Valley is the pinnacle of medicine development—how can she miss this trip?”

“Will the Emperor let her go?”

Jingyan hums, reaching to cup Zhanying’s cheek. “I will fight for it.”

Zhanying sees the fire in his eyes, and clasps his own hand over Jingyan’s fingers. “I am with you, your Highness.”

Jingyan leans forward to seal a kiss. 

For once, everything feels like it will be alright.