"Do you know the proper procedure for cracking a case?" Xu Qian began with a topic he knew best. "Observe the scene, gather clues, then make bold hypotheses and verify them with caution. Piece the puzzle together bit by bit until the truth is yours."
The candlelight lit up Xu Pingzhi's baffled face. Xu Xinnian frowned, deep in thought.
Xu Qian held forth: "What we need to think about isn't scheming against Zhou Li, but observing him, gathering information, then pooling it and boldly drawing up a plan, carefully weighing each step to test its viability." His words were ordered and rigorous, leaving Xu Xinnian nothing to say, while he inwardly conceded his brother was right.
So Ningyan had grown into a resourceful, dependable lad... Xu Pingzhi felt gratified. Once he'd feared his nephew too stubborn, too set in his ways, to come to grief.
Seeing no objection, Xu Qian went on: "Cijiu, you hold a provincial degree, so you can mix with scholars and learn what's happening in officialdom. You investigate Zhou Li—every last detail, nil missed. Uncle, the Zhou residence lies in the inner city, and the Imperial Blade Guard patrols both cities by night. You watch its comings and goings, but through a trusted confidant, not yourself. Where he goes, what he does, whom he meets—I want all of it."
Father and son nodded. A thought struck them: "And you?" Xu Qian smiled mysteriously. "I'll secure a way out for the Xu house. Cijiu, we'll go over details tonight, and I have things to ask you. I'm staying in your room."
...
Drip, drip, drip. A water clock echoed through the silent room.
"Brother, are you asleep?" "No." "Oh."
...
"Brother, are you asleep?" "No." "Oh."
...
"Brother, you're jabbing me..." Xu Qian was startled, then heard: "Ease back your elbow." "Right."
Listening to each other's breathing, Xu Qian asked: "Can't sleep, can you?" An "mm." "Not quite used to it." Neither am I... Xu Qian said with feeling: "How long since we shared a bed?" Xu Xinnian thought. "Since we turned ten. Once you spent a hundred taels a year on training, and things turned sour between you and Mother, we drifted apart too."
I thought you'd be cheeky enough to insist we'd never shared a bed... But here we are, whereas poor Lingyue isn't so lucky... Recalling his predecessor's childhood, Xu Qian remarked: "Honestly, you can't blame Aunt. The Imperial Blade Guard post brings in little. However hard Uncle works, on top of his salary he earns barely over two hundred taels a year, and half fed me. The rest covers all your expenses. Her grudge is natural."
Xu Xinnian changed the subject: "If we don't survive this, the Xu family may well be ruined." If Vice Minister Zhou weren't brought down, once the Capital Evaluation passed, disaster would fall on the house.
"I'll put a way out in place. At worst, after the Evaluation the whole family quits the Capital. Uncle and I are good fighters—we'll never lack a living." He added with regret: "It's just that you slaved ten years of study for that degree." Xu Xinnian gave a "ha." "Fame and rank are gone with the wind. I read the sages' books and cultivate the sages' way. Why should I care for a trifling degree?" Xu Qian agreed heartily: "Had heaven not given us Xu Xinnian, Great Feng had been an endless night."
The boat of friendship capsized. Xu Xinnian's breath hitched, then he rolled over, swept up the bedding, and feigned sleep. "Hey, Cijiu, share the quilt. It's the dead of winter—even a brother at Essence Refining finds this miserable." Xu Cijiu curled up, hugging the blankets, ignoring him.
...
Xu Lingyue's bedchamber. Last night's charcoal had burned out; the carbon dioxide made the air stifling. A window left ajar let fresh air drift in.
On her porcelain-fair face, lash-like brushes fluttered. She opened dull eyes, stared at the canopy, then their light returned. She sat up, stretched, the thick quilt sliding away, a thin white under-robe over her tender form, bosom softly rounded, pale neck an elegant arc, tousled hair framing a pretty face. She covered her rosy mouth with a slender hand and yawned.
The maidservant on the couch opposite startled awake, dressed, and rose unhurriedly. "The air is stuffy. Open the window," the girl ordered, rubbing her temples. The maid hurried to comply.
Xu Lingyue threw off the quilt, climbed out, and breathed the cold air from the courtyard. A lady of martial stock wasn't fragile. When Xu Pingzhi trained Xu Qian, he'd liked to bring Xu Xinnian and Xu Lingyue along; they'd laid a firm foundation, sturdy in body. Only when they grew did their mother stop them from training with that nephew. Their father had decided the nephew would learn martial arts, the son letters. A scholar taking up martial arts was wasted work. And a daughter must never build ugly, knotted muscle—who'd marry her then?
Enjoying the air, Xu Lingyue caught a figure passing the window in a constable's uniform, dark with red piping on cuffs and collar. Brother and sister stared at each other through the pane. Xu Qian's eyes dipped to his sister's flourishing bosom. She shrieked and slammed the window shut.
"Little sister's grown up!" Xu Qian mused, satisfied. Not that I raised her, but I watched her grow.
Inside, Xu Lingyue crouched, red-faced, hugging her chest. Her maid prattled: "Miss, you should change this habit—be dressed and groomed before opening the window. Lucky it was your own brother. If a stranger had seen, how would you live it down?" "Hush!" Xu Lingyue said, mortified.
Usually Xu Xinnian didn't pass this way, and their parents' quarters weren't here, so the morning window had always been safe. Why would Brother be in the inner courtyard...? At her vanity she was baffled. Her maid, styling her hair, then rummaging the jewelry box, complained: "Miss, you've no nice pins or clasps." Xu Lingyue sighed. Calamity after calamity had drained their savings, and seventeen or eighteen mouths ate through everything. Where was the silver for jewelry?
"Treasure Vessels Pavilion's pins are lovely. I went in yesterday and could hardly bear to leave. Tucked in your hair, Miss, they'd surely... sparkle in harmony." "It's 'shine in mutual brilliance,'" Xu Lingyue said, longing lighting her eyes before she quashed it. "Just too dear at ten taels each, unless you solve the shop's riddle—then the owner knocks some off."
Xu Lingyue listened distractedly, then asked: "Lan'er, don't you think Brother has changed a lot lately?" The maid started, a smile blooming. "He's gentler than before, and funnier, and more capable. He used to wear a stern face, none too kind to you or the Second Young Master, smiling only when he spoke with the master." Xu Lingyue seemed pleased. "Then it isn't his fault—Mother never took to him." She loved how their bond warmed, like a spring breeze. The old Brother had been dull and standoffish; the new one was interesting, his words sweet to the ear.
...
Xu Qian reached Xu Lingyin's door. She wasn't yet of age for strict separation of the sexes, so he entered without knocking. He found her crouched on the floor, a little paw gripping a boar-bristle toothbrush, face set in grim concentration as she brushed her teeth, as if it were some great project. The maid was tidying the bedding.
"Big bwother..." she looked up, mumbling through foam. "Why wash up all alone?" Xu Qian asked, eyes straying to the maid. "Father says a boy must be self-reliant to master his arts." "You... know you're a girl?" "I know." The little bean cocked her head, guileless. "No, you don't... Do you know how boys differ from girls?" "Brother, I don't." She was honest. "What's the difference?"
This touched biology. A long lecture would run forever, and Lingyin wouldn't follow it... Relying on nine years of compulsory education, Xu Qian distilled it into wisdom for young and old: "Simply put—well—boys grow up to be goofballs, and girls grow up to be troublemakers." Xu Lingyin understood at once: "No wonder Mother calls me a little troublemaker!" She ran round the room, shouting happily: "I'm the troublemaker! I'm the troublemaker!" Xu Qian quietly shut the door. He'd skip breakfast at home today.