Chapter Text
Mei Changsu sits in his house and watches Li Gang and Zhen Ping fidget repressively beside him. He is trying not to laugh.
It has been two weeks since the deposition of Daliang's empress and the dismissal of its inner palace. There had been an initial snowstorm of petitions from all across the land, expressing astonishment, incredulity, and every likely objection. Upon making landfall on Xiao Jingyan's desk, every one of them had been quietly relegated to the bottom of his 'to be read' pile. Two weeks later, with all three women back in their maternal households and the goose irretrievably cooked, the commotion seems to have petered away.
In all this time, Xiao Jingyan has not come, and neither has Meng Zhi. It continues to be the wall-vaulting Prince Qi who turns up at the house, always at the quietest time of day, and always just for a social visit, enjoying a quick chat, looking to see if Mei Changsu is in good colour, never dawdling long before he is off again. More than once, Li Gang and Zhen Ping have dropped sideways hints that Mei Changsu might ask him how His Majesty is doing, or when he plans to visit, but Mei Changsu has never done more than smile at them.
It is not that he wouldn't like to know. But if Tingsheng chooses not to tell, then Mei Changsu will not ask. These are, after all, Jingyan's private family affairs. Though they say that even the fairest of magistrates struggles in family court, there isn't a man on earth who would welcome a surrogate's hand in litigating his household. These things touch upon a man's dignity— even more so when that man is the rightwise son of heaven.
He knows Jingyan will manage. That lumbering water buffalo may look like a stickler and a bonehead and like he couldn't turn a corner if he ran into one horns-first, but he never forgets a kindness. There has always been the softest spot in his heart for the meek and the vulnerable. And so even though those women may be eminently culpable for the death of his infant son, Xiao Jingyan is going to spare their lives. Not because he has to look after the feelings of an old head secretary, but because he has always had a soft heart.
By Mei Changsu's reckoning, though, it is about time that Jingyan turned up. They will soon have been back in Jinling for two months now; even if something else comes up, knowing Jingyan, he will have to at least come have a look at him before he'll settle. And so he is happy to wait. Day after day, he only has Li Gang and Zhen Ping keep a warmed pitcher of Dukang wine on his desk, in quiet expectation of that man's arrival.
Only, he really is a little curious how Xiao Jingyan will show up.
Certainly, he has speculated on why Jingyan has installed him in a house so close to the Palace walls— a little too conspicuous, isn't it? Or has he dug some kind of a tunnel in here again? And when they first moved in, he had indeed investigated the rooms and the grounds carefully, closely examined the walls and cabinets, and found no special lever that might open up a wall. If there really is a secret tunnel, then surely there must be a way to access it. But he has looked everywhere, and there really is no such contraption. In which case— how is Xiao Jingyan, emperor of Daliang, sovereign of a nation, going to appear at his house? He's really rather intrigued. Will he come undercover in the day, or sneak past his palace guards at night? Either option would put him in considerable danger. And this is also why, while Li Gang and Zhen Ping have been wringing their hands on his behalf, he has tamped down his curiosity and held his tongue with Tingsheng. He does not want Jingyan to rush this. Against this meeting, Jingyan's safety and reputation must take priority.
And yet, just as the lamps are being lit for the evening, as he picks up a book at random to settle into the night, the bookshelf in the inner room slides open all by itself, revealing a crack in the wall. The crack splits, growing wider and wider, and then standing there in a secret passageway is a tall and slender man, the very person whose manner of arrival he has been guessing and guessing at.
Mei Changsu stands and looks across at him, a smile in his eyes. But to tell the truth, in that moment, though he was smiling, his heart had ached.
He has just realised why, for all his searching, he has never found the means to open that wall: it had only ever been built to be opened from the other side. This way, should they be discovered, Xiao Jingyan will single-handedly assume all responsibility and claim that it has nothing whatsoever to do with Mei Changsu.
Mei Changsu looks at Jingyan, still smiling faintly. Faced with such gentle consideration, such careful regard, he almost doesn't quite know how to meet his eyes. He is still very fond of that young, innocent, and graceless Xiao Jingyan of sixteen years ago, and equally fond of that pigheaded and inflexible Xiao Jingyan he'd met two or three years ago. But this Xiao Jingyan before him, who has grown into the full majesty of his office, but has also learnt finesse and sensitivity, moves him in a different way. Four years ago, amidst their perilous endeavours, Mei Changsu had held himself before Xiao Jingyan as his shield against the bloodshed and the filth. Now, it looks like the tables have been turned on him; the way Jingyan looks, he clearly intends to play protector this time. Mei Changsu stands in front of Xiao Jingyan, and he is smiling still, but there is an odd taste in the back of his mouth.
Xiao Jingyan looks back at Mei Changsu. There is something unsteady in his gaze, or perhaps something aching, but most of all it looks like a harshly suppressed upwelling of more emotions than he can name. As his chest tightly rises and falls, his eyes sweep over Mei Changsu again and again, inspecting him closely, trying to catch the slightest change in his features, or find the smallest sign of illness about him. He needs to know, in his second resurrection, how much more punishment he has had to take, how much more pain he has had to endure in the battle for his life. If he has had to have his bones scraped clean and the skin flayed from his flesh again. Never mind going through it in person as Lin Shu has; to draw poison from a person like that— every time he thinks of it, Xiao Jingyan has to lean over his desk to catch his breath a little, until it no longer feels as though a knife has been twisted in his heart. Neither of them has any interest in revisiting an agony like that.
After a few moments of looking at each other, Mei Changsu moves first. He walks forward and folds himself down into a full obeisance, laying his forehead to the ground. "The commoner Su Zhe pays his respects to Your Majesty."
Xiao Jingyan grabs him at once, an almost imperceptible shake in his voice: "What are you doing, xiao-Shu?"
Insistently, Mei Changsu stays down. "Your Majesty, the ritual of obeisance between a subject and his sovereign must not be forgotten."
But Xiao Jingyan's hand on his arm might as well be cast in iron, and there is even less give in his voice. "Xiao-Shu, between you and I, there will be no talk of subjects and sovereigns."
After a few seconds of this rigid impasse, Mei Changsu has no choice but to rise. He turns aside and gestures to the small desk behind him. "Please take a seat, Your Majesty. Some light liquor has been warmed for your pleasure."
Xiao Jingyan pauses, and then finally notices the faint aroma of Dukang wine in the air, diffusing slowly across the room.
They sit on either side of the desk, and Mei Changsu pours for Xiao Jingyan. When Xiao Jingyan's cup is filled, he turns to his own, but Jingyan puts a light hand over the pitcher and says, "You shouldn't be drinking."
Mei Changsu halts a second, but does not insist. He turns around and sets a pot of water to boil on the brazier, then fills his own tea cup. The room returns to silence again.
Xiao Jingyan asks softly, "Xiao-Shu, in the past two years, has your health much recovered?"
Mei Changsu smiles and replies evenly, "I'm much better." Then a little pause, before he asks, "Does Her Majesty the empress dowager remain in good health?"
Xiao Jingyan says, "As she was once a medic, Mother takes care of herself very well. She has struggled with a few aches and pains lately, but they are nothing very serious."
Mei Changsu nods. Quietly warming his hands by the brazier, his expression softens with relief.
Xiao Jingyan asks, "Do you still get cold so easily?"
Mei Changsu doesn't lie to him. Xiao Jingyan may be straightforward, but he isn't naïve. Once a prince and now an emperor, how can his eyes not be well honed to detail? Scrying into the hearts of men has always been the very first lesson in a sovereign's syllabus. Otherwise, how should he steer a government, or seek out the good and true amongst his men, or marshal the support of his citizens and soldiers? Though Jingyan has never cared to play mind games, it would be a mistake to think he doesn't understand them. To hide too much from him now would only be playing unnecessarily coy, and so Mei Changsu answers honestly, "Your Majesty knows how it is with this body of mine. To have been able to recover at all was already a miracle; I cannot ask for more."
Xiao Jingyan is quiet for a moment. He can guess about nine-tenths of the truth about xiao-Shu's health. It has been a long time since he was that clueless Prince Jing, led easily by the nose, turned around and around by Mei Changsu's little tricks. Back then, he had not known that Mei Changsu was Lin Shu, and had been further blinded by his prejudices against the 'power-hungry strategist', come to the capital to stir up trouble. But this is no longer the case. Ever since he found out just who the man really is, Xiao Jingyan has been better able than anyone to trace the lines of thought behind Mei Changsu's actions, all of those grimly self-sacrificing behaviours which had bordered on self-harm. He can even recall the thread of bone-deep exhaustion behind each of Mei Changsu's words to him, and belatedly recognise just how close the man had been to the very end of his rope. And so when he asks xiao-Shu about his health now, it isn't really because he wants to know how he is doing. Even if Xiao Jingyan doesn't ask after xiao-Shu's condition, there are people who will volunteer that information to him. He only asked because he wants to know if xiao-Shu is still going to put on a brave face in front of him, if he is willing now to give him the whole truth. As it turns out, it is just as he thought: xiao-Shu is exactly the same as he had been two years ago, holding a little back in everything he says to him, unwilling to tell all.
Xiao Jingyan considers this, and only softly smiles.
Mei Changsu has his own considerations. The past two years have tempered Jingyan considerably. The first thing he did upon meeting him was not to demand to know how he had managed to survive two years ago, or why he had never sent word to tell him he was alive; if he had been deliberately avoiding the mire of political strife that was the capital, or if he had been forced to stay away for his health; and why, finally, has he now changed his mind and agreed to return to Jinling? In the past, Jingyan would have at least quizzed him a little about these things, but by the looks of it, today's Jingyan no longer intends to get wrapped up in these details.
Their first meeting in two years, and there seems to be no catching up to do. Mei Changsu looks into the brazier, and an echo of Jingyan's faint smile flickers on his face. With this state of affairs between them, neither party can say any more if it bodes well or ill.
When they have made idle chatter about a few truly inconsequential things, Mei Changsu looks out at the deepening shade of dusk. Xiao Jingyan can see that he is concerned about his extended absence from the Palace, but pretends not to, and makes no move to leave. As it is hardly appropriate to shoo the emperor out his door, Mei Changsu deliberates briefly, then asks, "Might I ask where the other end of this passageway sits within the Palace? Is the location secure?"
Prepared for this question, Xiao Jingyan answers easily. "The other end opens into Commander-General Meng's office."
The unsuspecting specificity of this information catches Mei Changsu off guard for a fair few seconds. Then he laughs, "In that case, Your Majesty had better head back now. And in future, perhaps there is no need to visit very often. If people catch wind that the Emperor of Daliang is constantly having 'private meetings' with Commander-General Meng in his office, they're going to start spreading rumours that Your Majesty likes men."
His words are light and teasing, and Xiao Jingyan cannot help but smile in response: "I have never been afraid of rumours."
Mei Changsu nods and laughs, "I know you aren't, Your Majesty, but maybe Commander-General Meng is."
Xiao Jingyan looks at him quietly, his strong, distinct features softening into something warmer and gentler in the evening candlelight. He says easily, "On that account, you needn't worry. I've already chosen a wife for Meng Zhi. She's the granddaughter of that retired cabinet minister you'd recommended years ago, Cheng Zhiji. The wedding is in just a few days; will you go?"
Mei Changsu has another speechless moment. For Meng Zhi not to have come and told him about this happy development in person! The man must be having himself a little revenge for having been kept in the dark these past two years. He cannot help but dissolve into laughter: "Cheng Zhiji's granddaughter? But she'll be a real lady, the kind who knows her books and is sharp as a whip. A delicate, scholarly girl like that, all elegance and sophistication— with Meng-dage's rugged sensibilities, is he really willing to wed her?"
Despite the genuine doubt, there is a merry lightness in Mei Changsu's voice, and in his lively, glinting eyes Xiao Jingyan finally catches a glimpse of a true and deep-felt joy. Xiao Jingyan says, equally lightly, "'You are not a fish; how do you know what pleases fish?'"
Mei Changsu laughs. A few moments later, he falls quiet again and says, "I'll pass on the wedding. The world knows Mei Changsu as a dead man, and this city knew him two years ago as an agent of political disruption. It'll not play well with public opinion."
Xiao Jingyan looks at him seriously. "Xiao-Shu, are you someone who cares about public opinion?"
Mei Changsu shakes his head. If he cared what people said about him, why would he have lived for fourteen years in the shadows of polite society, and even now, looking back with blood-stained hands, find himself willing to turn around and do it all again? He doesn't care about public opinion, but that doesn't mean he should fail to consider its impact on other people.
Xiao Jingyan asks again, "Is Meng Zhi someone who cares about public opinion?"
Mei Changsu shakes his head again, and just as he opens his mouth, Xiao Jingyan pursues, "Or, xiao-Shu, did you think I would be the one who cares about these so-called 'public opinions'?"
Mei Changsu turns to look at him, eyes intent, and takes a deep breath to say, "Your Majesty, as the sovereign of this nation— "
He has not finished, but this most ordinary of sentences has put a low anger in Xiao Jingyan's face, and suddenly there is an intense pressure in the room. "Xiao-Shu, from the first moment I arrived, you've said 'Your Majesty' after 'Your Majesty', one string of 'Your Majesties' followed by another 'Your Majesty'. In your heart, am I anything but the sovereign of a nation, am I no one but the Emperor of Daliang?"