Following the young man, they entered the tavern. The inside was another world. Murong Jin had expected a typical layout, but the ground floor was a vast, empty space.
"The guests who come here are either refined scholars or swordsmen who live on the edge," the young man explained, sensing her confusion. "So the ground floor is kept clear."
"Is this a place for settling old scores?" Murong Jin asked, glancing at Xue Liulan.
He smiled. "Clever. The food and wine here are the best in the kingdom. And it's an excellent place for secrets."
"Secrets?"
"What happens here, stays here. Unless the guests agree otherwise—or the host decrees it so," he said, then glanced at the young man. "This is Gongzi Qiwu, the proprietor."
Qiwu. The phoenix nests in the Qiwu tree. A man trusted by the proud Sixth Prince must be a hermit of a similar stripe.
She studied him again. His martial skill was clearly not weak, but his hands were long and pale. He took care of them. Men like that were either master craftsmen or, like him, experts in hidden weapons.
"Why does General Murong laugh?" Gongzi Qiwu asked, his eyes cold.
"I am married now. Please, address me as Madam Xue," she corrected, her voice firm. He seemed to hold a deep animosity toward her, or perhaps her family.
He froze for a moment, then smiled. "Then please, enlighten me, Madam Xue."
She glanced at Xue Liulan. He just smiled back, the hand on her arm giving a slight, reassuring squeeze. Say what you will. If he takes offense, I'll handle it.
"Seeing a gentleman as refined as yourself, I was simply happy to know my husband is not alone in his tastes. Forgive my rudeness," she said, her voice soft.
Qiwu's eyes narrowed. A clever woman. The words were a flawless deflection.
"You flatter me, Madam Xue." He saluted and led them through the empty space, behind a screen, and into a back garden.
"All that praise… I'm overwhelmed," Xue Liulan whispered in her ear.
She shot him a look. "Don't be ridiculous. I was praising Gongzi Qiwu."
"I don't care who you were praising. Hearing you call me 'husband' over and over… it does things to a man." He tightened his arm, a wicked smile in his eyes.
"Xue Liulan," she hissed. It was one thing to refer to him that way to an outsider, another for him to throw it in her face.
"I think I prefer 'husband'," he said, leaning in. "What was that?"
She was caught between anger and amusement. With Qiwu just ahead, she could only grit her teeth. "I'll add this to your tab. We'll settle it when we get back."
He just smiled and followed Qiwu.
If only it could always be like this, he thought. Bickering, visiting friends with my wife by his side. What do I care for the throne?
But he had been born into the house of the Emperor.
The sound of fighting grew louder. Murong Jin's senses went on high alert.
Qiwu stopped on a covered walkway, looking out at the courtyard.
A crowd of men from the martial world stood in a circle around two combatants. Murong Jin's gaze swept over them, then froze.
Standing a short distance away was a man in the green robes of a scholar. But his eyes were sharp, fixed on the fight, a cold light in them that seemed to outshine the glint of steel.
She tugged Xue Liulan's sleeve. "Is that… Xue Moyan?"
He followed her gaze and nodded. "The one and only."
"Are these his men?"
"Likely just using this place to settle a score. They brought too many people, so they were moved to the garden." He studied the men. All from the same sect. A power struggle, most likely.
"Who's there?" one of the men yelled. Before anyone could answer, his sword was out, aimed straight at them.
Murong Jin's hand was already on her hilt.
Before the man reached them, Qiwu had sidestepped. The swordsman knew him; the attack wasn't for him.
Xue Liulan saw the blade coming for them. Murong Jin was about to step forward, but he held her back, pulling her behind him and turning his own back to the sword.
Clang. A single bamboo leaf shot through the air, striking the blade with a sharp ring. The swordsman stumbled back, staring.
Xue Moyan walked toward them, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Thirteenth Brother, what is this?" The fighters in the courtyard stopped and gathered around.
"This tavern serves one party a day. Nothing is revealed without their permission," the swordsman said, glaring.
"Correct," Xue Moyan answered, his voice cold.
"Then how do you explain them?" All eyes turned to Xue Liulan and Murong Jin.
Xue Liulan took Murong Jin's hand and walked to his brother's side. "Your business is booming."
"Here on business, or just to see me? It's been three years," Xue Moyan said. He turned to the others. "This man is a private guest of mine. Please, continue."
With that, he turned to leave.
"What about today's matter?" one of the men demanded.
Xue Moyan paused. "Qiwu will handle it."
"Yes."
In a small, elegant room, Xue Moyan knelt at a low table and poured wine for Xue Liulan. When he turned to Murong Jin, he paused, the mouth of the jug hovering over her cup. He just looked at her.
She smiled, sat up straight, and lifted her cup with both hands to receive the wine.
He poured until it was perfectly full. She set the cup down. A strange man. Even in this, he demanded respect.
"Deng Qinyao sent me a painting to appraise," Xue Moyan said, glancing at her. "It seems things in Jindu are not peaceful."
Xue Liulan, kneeling beside her, laughed. "It's fine. Just an assassination to force our seventh brother out of the city."
"Since you're here, say what you came to say," Xue Moyan said, impatient.
Xue Liulan shifted, then dropped down to sit cross-legged. "Alright, stop pretending."
Xue Moyan looked at Murong Jin.
"You two have a reunion," she said, rising. "I saw the garden. I'm sure you won't mind if I take a walk." She glanced at Xue Liulan, who was trying to hide a smile.
"I'll have them bring you the house specialty later," he said. "Qiwu is in the garden. Find him if you need anything."
Remembering Qiwu's cold face, she just smiled and left, closing the door.
The moment it shut, Xue Moyan also dropped his formal posture, downing his wine. "Much better. Now, what do you want?"
"The Wei River flood." Xue Liulan lifted his own cup. "Your wine is still the best."