Volume One: Flames at the Border Chapter Forty-Five: Calamity Within the Walls

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He Yu was upset with Deng’er for taking matters into her own hands and arranging for him to take a concubine. For days, his mood soured, and he ate much less than usual. Deng’er, deeply distressed, repeatedly apologized and promised never to mention taking a concubine again, which gradually lifted He Yu’s spirits.

Unaware of He Yu’s unwillingness to take a concubine, Chen Qingyun, seeing Deng’er’s willingness to step aside, began visiting the Plum Pavilion often, bringing daily necessities and growing close to Deng’er, treating her like a beloved sister. The kindness of a beauty is the hardest to refuse; He Yu found himself unable to turn her away, caught in a bittersweet dilemma that made him laugh and cry at once.

Fortunately, few people visited the inner compound, and Li Jun’s family lived in the far northeast in the Chrysanthemum Study, so Chen Qingyun’s pursuit of He Yu remained unknown, sparing them much trouble.

After Deng’er confided in Chen Qingyun, her mood improved considerably. Though some resentment lingered, her anxieties lessened. Chen Qingyun, feeling guilty, treated Deng’er as her own sister, and the grievances in Deng’er’s heart were soothed.

The scouts reported that Murong Kai’s vanguard had reached the gates of Yanmen, and within ten days, a massive assault on Northern Wei’s Pingcheng was imminent. This battle would not be resolved quickly, granting the Chen family stronghold a lengthy period of opportunity for development.

One evening, as He Yu and Deng’er were dining at home, cries erupted from the neighboring Orchid Pavilion: “Catch the assassin! Catch the assassin! Catch the assassin!”

The inner compound was heavily guarded, and the Orchid Pavilion, Chen Qingyun’s residence, was locked each night. How could there be an assassin?

Without pausing to think, He Yu grabbed his sword and dashed out, entering the Orchid Pavilion from the eastern side door. The courtyard was in chaos, lanterns swinging wildly, maids and servants shrieking.

The Orchid Pavilion was filled with women. With Chen Qingyun not showing herself, panic reigned, for there was no one to take charge.

He Yu seized an elderly maid and asked, “Where is the assassin?”

The old woman pointed to the second floor, stammering, “In… in… Lady Chen’s room. Xue Nu’er has been killed.”

He Yu was alarmed, his body tensed, and he ascended the stairs cautiously.

Seeing He Yu, the frightened crowd steadied a little, and the bolder ones called for others to light lanterns and stand back, illuminating his path.

The corridor was pitch dark. He Yu held his breath, moving quietly up to the second floor. He had visited Chen Qingyun’s boudoir before and recalled its layout. He lifted the beaded curtain and suddenly slipped, his foot touching something soft. By the light from below, he saw Xue Nu’er collapsed at the threshold, a pool of blood spreading from her back—she was already dead.

“Lady Chen… Lady Chen… Lady Chen…”

He Yu called softly, cautiously entering the room.

“He Lang! He Lang!”

The bed curtain rustled, and Chen Qingyun, tearful, rushed to him, throwing her arms around him and refusing to let go.

He Yu was engulfed in her fragrance; below his chest, he felt two soft, firm mounds pressed against him, her dark hair brushing his neck—Chen Qingyun had buried herself in his embrace.

He Yu, sword in hand, shielded her anxiously. “Where is the assassin?”

Chen Qingyun pointed shakily at the window, voice trembling, “He escaped through there.” Normally decisive and fearless, she was nevertheless a woman; such a sudden ordeal had terrified her.

The window was wide open, its frame broken and dangling in the wind. Clearly, the assassin had fled through it.

He Yu breathed a sigh of relief and asked, “Did you see the assassin’s face?”

Chen Qingyun whimpered, “It looked like Li Yu.” She hesitated briefly, then affirmed, “I saw him clearly—it was Li Yu.”

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Just then, Deng’er, sword in hand, came up the stairs.

Having served as Chen Qingyun’s maid, she was familiar with the boudoir’s arrangement. She quickly found the candlestick and lit a candle, brightening the room.

Chen Qingyun, still shaken, clung to He Yu, forgetting to rise. Given the circumstances, Deng’er felt no jealousy.

He Yu surveyed the room. Water covered the floor, mingled with flower petals. A high-backed lacquered bath tub lay overturned, clothes and jewelry scattered nearby, and Xue Nu’er’s blood pooled at the threshold—utter chaos.

He Yu thought to himself: “Li Yu’s character is poor, but he’s not desperate for money, nor does he bear any grudge against Chen Qingyun. Most likely, the scoundrel coveted her beauty. Failing in his attempt, he stabbed Xue Nu’er and fled through the window.”

Chen Qingyun, regaining her composure, sat up and suddenly cried out, hugging herself and crouching, her cheeks flushed red.

Her startled reaction alarmed He Yu, who looked down and was equally embarrassed.

It turned out Chen Qingyun, after dinner, was preparing for a fragrant bath, with Xue Nu’er attending. As she undressed, the lights suddenly dimmed and a pair of hairy hands reached for her from behind.

Startled, Chen Qingyun’s mind went blank, but she fought back fiercely. Xue Nu’er, loyal to her mistress, grabbed ink, brush, paper, and teacups from the table, attacking Li Yu and running to the door to call for help. Li Yu, realizing he’d failed, hurled his sword, killing Xue Nu’er, and fled in panic.

Chen Qingyun, skilled in martial arts, managed to escape only thanks to Xue Nu’er’s intervention.

Hiding in the shadows in disarray, Chen Qingyun heard He Yu’s call and, seeing him as her savior, rushed into his arms, so frightened she forgot her state of undress.

Deng’er pointed to He Yu. “Husband, take off your robe and cover Lady Chen.”

He Yu complied, wrapping Chen Qingyun in his robe, then went to the door and picked up Xue Nu’er. Her eyes stared wide, her youthful face frozen in terror—she had been dead for some time.

He Yu’s eyes grew moist as he gently closed Xue Nu’er’s eyes. Xue Nu’er’s life had been tragic; clever and beloved by Chen Qingyun, she was also closest to Deng’er. Seeing her fate, both women wept bitterly.

He Yu searched the boudoir by candlelight and found clear traces of a man lying on Chen Qingyun’s bed.

Li Yu must have hidden in the room, waiting for Chen Qingyun to sleep before making his move. But she had a habit of bathing before bed, and as she undressed, Li Yu couldn’t restrain himself and reached out.

Chen Qingyun and Deng’er shivered at He Yu’s analysis.

Deng’er, still shaken, said, “If Li Yu had waited until Lady Chen was asleep before acting, then… then wouldn’t…”

Chen Qingyun, tearful, replied, “If that had happened, I could never face He Lang again—I wouldn’t want to live.”

He Yu held the candle to look outside. Below the window was the moat encircling the compound, with only a bridge to the south connecting to the outside. After escaping, Li Yu wouldn’t dare cross the bridge; instead, he waded through the water to the far bank, leaving a trail eastward. It was already late; without tokens from He Yu or Chen Jing, no one could leave the compound at night. Li Yu must still be hiding inside. He was extremely dangerous; if not caught, he might kill again.

By now, the compound was ablaze with voices and lights as patrols searched for the assassin. People flooded into Orchid Pavilion. With guards present, Chen Qingyun and Deng’er were safe.

He Yu, sword in hand, jumped from the window, crossed the moat, and followed the trail. After searching less than a mile, he heard shouting from the southwest corner, torches waving—someone had surrounded the assassin.

He Yu rejoiced and hurried over. The guards parted to let him through. In their midst, Li Yu stood wild-haired, bow drawn and arrow pointed at his elder brother Li Jun, shouting, “No one come closer! If you do, I’ll shoot!”

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Li Jun’s face was dark as iron, his thick brows furrowed. Beside him stood their elderly father, Li Ling, his beard and hair white.

Li Ling, trembling with rage, pointed at Li Yu and shouted, “Wretch! Put down the bow—do you want to drive your father to his grave?”

Li Yu rolled his eyes, raving hysterically, “I’m your son too—why are you so biased? Lady Chen is about my age, but you never consider me, always matchmaking for big brother! Ha! You even say you’ll give him the family estate—am I not your son?”

Li Ling’s face purpled with fury, coughing violently, unable to utter a full sentence.

Li Jun strode forward in anger, commanding, “Fourth brother, put down the bow—must you force me to act?”

Li Yu retreated a few steps, eyes red with contempt. “Big brother, what makes you so great? Lady Chen doesn’t like you—she likes Captain He, I heard it myself. Ha! Only you, the fool, are still in the dark. Push me again, and don’t blame me for forgetting brotherhood!”

Li Jun ignored his threats, pressing closer. “Fourth brother, your disgraceful actions have shamed the family. I cannot tolerate you today. If you have the guts, shoot me!”

Li Yu, impulsive and arrogant, was cornered as Li Jun advanced—he might do something desperate.

“Don’t!” He Yu shouted in warning.

But it was too late.

With a twang, the bowstring sang, and an arrow at close range pierced Li Jun’s throat.

Li Jun fell instantly, clutching his neck as blood poured from his mouth, his throat gurgling—he could no longer speak. He never imagined his own brother would strike so cruelly, so he never thought to dodge.

“Jun’er…” Li Ling cried in agony, sinking to the ground and cradling his son, tears streaming down his face. “Heavens, what sin have I committed?” He tore at his white hair, pulling out handfuls.

He had four sons; two died young, and now his youngest had killed his eldest. No one could bear such a blow. To die in battle is honorable, but this—fratricide before all eyes—this tragedy shattered Li Ling utterly.

Li Jun held a high position in the compound. As the arrow struck him, chaos erupted. He Yu rushed over, grabbing Li Jun’s large hand and shouting in his ear, “Brother… Brother…” But it was clear he would not survive.

Li Jun squeezed He Yu’s hand, his throat rasping. With great effort, he rasped out, “Good brother… I am done for… someday… someday… look after my son… my father… apologize to Deng’er…”

“Mm!”

“Mm!”

“Mm!”

He Yu sobbed uncontrollably, nodding over and over. Though their characters differed, they had worked together in perfect harmony, bound as true brothers.