“Chen’er, your father misunderstood you. This hundred-tael note really is yours.”

“And this cloak — your third brother was only playing with you. He’d never actually take your things.”

Ning Ziming held the cloak out in both hands. On top of it lay a silver note — the very one Ning Gan had taken.

Ning Chen didn’t take it. His head filled with question marks and he looked at them strangely.

Did somebody shut these people’s heads in a door?

They had robbed him, and now they were giving it all back.

“You three worthless things. Apologize to your fourth brother.”

Ning Ziming turned and snapped it at them.

All three of them looked thoroughly unhappy.

Ning Xing and Ning Mao most of all. They’d have liked to strangle Ning Chen — thanks to this bastard the two of them had taken two beatings in one day.

But they didn’t dare disobey Ning Ziming.

Ning Gan’s face was dark. “Fourth Brother, your eldest brother was only playing with you that day. If I hurt you, I apologize. I hope you won’t take it to heart.”

He looked at Ning Gan and laughed coldly inside. Playing? I was flat on my back for a month, and you’re telling me it was play?

But he still didn’t understand what this family was up to, so he didn’t answer him.

Ning Xing said a dry “sorry.”

Ning Mao said it unwillingly. “Fourth Brother, I never actually wanted your cloak. I was only playing with you. Don’t take it seriously.”

Ning Chen said nothing. His face didn’t move.

Seeing it, Ning Ziming said hurriedly, “Chen’er, you’re all brothers in one house. Play gets out of hand sometimes. Look, they’ve all apologized to you. Forgive them.”

“And don’t worry. Your father gives you his word. Nothing like this will ever happen again.”

Ning Chen couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Minister Ning. What is it you actually want? Say it plainly.”

“Chen’er, don’t misunderstand. In the past your father neglected you. That was your father’s fault. I promise I’ll treat you properly from now on.”

“Your three brothers are apologizing to you sincerely. We’re one family. Forgive them.”

“Chen’er, will you do one thing for your father?”

Ning Chen frowned. “What thing?”

Ning Ziming said, “Chen’er, a family’s dirty laundry shouldn’t be aired in public. What happened today — could you not tell anyone? If it gets out, it’s the Ning family that loses face.”

A great question mark went through Ning Chen’s head.

Why does he keep coming back to dirty laundry in public?

Is he afraid of somebody finding out?

It’s genuinely strange. What is Ning Ziming afraid of?

Is he only worried it’ll get out and ruin his reputation?

Ning Chen couldn’t make any sense of it.

But since Ning Ziming had a weak point, he could use it.

“Minister Ning. I can keep all of this from everyone. But I have a condition.”

Ning Ziming said, “Say it.”

“I want to leave the Ning estate.”

Ning Ziming’s face darkened all at once.

This will be the death of me.

If His Majesty found out, his days as minister were finished — and possibly his life with them.

“Chen’er, didn’t we agree not to raise this again?”

Ning Chen said flatly, “Then I’m sorry. I’m not very careful with my mouth. I might let something slip about recent events, with a little extra oil and vinegar.”

“Unfilial wretch. You dare threaten me?”

Ning Ziming was in a fury.

Ning Chen looked back at him without expression and without the slightest fear.

Ning Ziming let out a long, thick breath and pressed the anger down. “Chen’er, your father can agree to it. But under the law of the Great Xuan, to leave the Ning estate you have to come of age.”

Ning Chen let out a small breath of relief. Ning Ziming agreeing was enough. He was only a few months from sixteen anyway — earn as much as possible in that time, and when he left the Ning estate he could live well.

“Minister Ning. I hope you’re a man of your word. Otherwise don’t blame my mouth for being loose.”

Ning Ziming nodded.

In fact it was a stalling tactic. Settle Ning Chen down first, and worry about the rest later.

“Minister Ning. If there’s nothing else, please go.”

Ning Ziming forced his anger down and left, taking the three of them with him.

“Christ. Lunatics.”

Ning Chen swore at their backs.

Then he put the note and the cloak away and sat down at the writing desk.

Tomorrow he meant to call on Old General Chen, and he could hardly turn up empty-handed.

But he had nothing worth presenting, so he planned to write the old man a poem.

He wrote several in a row and none of them felt right, so he gave it up.

Never mind. Better to buy a gift on the way tomorrow.

The next day.

Ning Chen ate his breakfast and went out.

He came to the general’s residence, straightened his clothes, and knocked.

The door creaked.

The vermilion gate opened and a big middle-aged man came out, fierce as a fighting animal.

This one has been on a battlefield.

Ning Chen bowed over clasped hands. “My name is Lan Xing. I’ve come to see Old General Chen. Would you announce me?”

“You’re Lan Xing?”

The man’s face came alive.

Ning Chen blinked, then nodded. “I am.”

“The Lan Xing who wrote To Old General Chen?”

Ning Chen was lost. “To Old General Chen? What’s that?”

The man’s eyes were urgent. “Drunk, I trim the lamp to look at my sword; in dreams I am back among the camps, the horns calling down the line. You didn’t write that?”

Ning Chen smiled. So that was it.

“That would be mine. I stole— I mean, I wrote it. But this is the first I’ve heard of a title.”

Shit.

He’d nearly told the truth.

The man said excitedly, “It really is you? That title was written by His Majesty himself and given to Old General Chen.”

Ning Chen’s face went blank with shock. “His Majesty?”

My lyric reached the emperor?

Then the man suddenly grabbed for Ning Chen’s wrist.

Ning Chen moved on pure reflex. His wrist turned, he caught the man’s wrist backhanded, pulled him forward, and drove a shoulder hard into his chest. The man went back several steps.

He stared at Ning Chen, thrown.

Ning Chen rubbed his shoulder. This body was in terrible condition — the impact had hurt him.

But there was no time for that. He glared. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The man ignored him and shouted back into the residence instead.

“Somebody get out here! I’ve caught Lan Xing! Don’t let him get away! Go and tell the old general!”

Ning Chen stood there baffled and asked, a little weakly:

“Brother. Have I done something wrong?”

The man shook his head. “Not at all.”

“Then what is this?”

The man grinned, and his voice was hearty. “Do you have any idea how many people are out there looking for you? Paying serious money for a poem. It’s taken me this long to lay eyes on you and I’m not letting you run.”

“That lyric of yours lifted the old general more than you know. We wanted to thank you and we could never find you.”

Serious money for a poem?

Lucky it isn’t serious money for a son, or I really would have to run.

Ning Chen didn’t know whether to laugh or not. “I came here to see Old General Chen. Why would I run?”

The man smacked his own forehead, catching on a beat too late. “That’s right. You came to see the old general. Sorry, sorry. I got carried away when I saw you.”

Ning Chen had nothing at all to say to that.

Just then a crowd of big, powerfully built men came pouring out of the residence, every one of them with the look of a hawk or a wolf about him.

“You’re Lan Xing?”

One of them asked.

Ning Chen nodded and made a sound of agreement.

“Quick, quick, quick. Get around him. Don’t let him get away.”

The crowd closed in and had him surrounded in one motion.

Every one of them was staring at Ning Chen with burning eyes, like men three years starved looking at a naked woman.

Ning Chen, meanwhile, felt like a lamb that had fallen in among tigers — small, pitiful, helpless — and he quietly put a hand behind him to protect his backside. The look in these men’s eyes was terrifying.

(End of Chapter 19)