Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Something Happened to Xie Yu Chuan

When the messages on Tu Hua’s phone went haywire—glitchy symbols, nonsense characters, an avalanche of garble—it usually meant one thing:

Xie Yu Chuan was losing his composure on the other side.

Tu Hua set her chopsticks down so fast they nearly clacked. She grabbed a tissue, wiped her hands, and sent him a voice message while still half-standing.

“What happened? What’s going on over there?”

Whatever it was, it had his thoughts in a knot.

The problem was, she couldn’t even peek. The moment she’d opened her front door earlier, the system had already swapped the outside view back to modern scenery. She could no longer see what was happening on Xie Yu Chuan’s side.

That dog system. Switching cross-plane perspective cost extra—and of course it did.

Her poor bank balance had been shaved down to eighty cents.

Eighty. Cents.

Seriously.

Try being human.

On the other side—

When You Zhan moved to block him, he hadn’t expected Xie Yu Chuan to be that fast.

One blink, and You Zhan was pinned for a beat. He snapped back, and the next moment fists and feet were already flying, the two of them colliding in a tight, vicious exchange.

Xiong Jiu Shan saw the situation sour and charged in, brute force and authority, splitting them apart.

Xie Yu Chuan heard Tu Hua’s voice—Household God’s voice—in his ear. He had no interest in tangling with You Zhan any longer. With the shackles weighing him down and limiting his movement, he parried just enough to slip away. Xiong Jiu Shan gave him the opening, and Xie Yu Chuan retreated cleanly.

A message came through.

“I’m fine,” Xie Yu Chuan sent. “I ran into someone with a personal grudge against the Xie family.”

Tu Hua stared at the screen.

A personal grudge—and he was calling that fine?

She rose from her chair, unease pushing her upright. “Is he hard to deal with?”

Across the distance, Xie Yu Chuan glanced at You Zhan, still being held back by Xiong Jiu Shan.

“I can handle it,” he replied. “It’s just…”

Just what?

Something You Zhan had said—about the Third Brother—hit Xie Yu Chuan like a stone to the chest. His mind tipped off balance.

Tu Hua’s screen flashed again. Another run of garbled text poured in.

“…?”

Tu Hua’s stomach tightened.

Xie Yu Chuan almost never sounded like this. Not even when he’d been in the Imperial Prison. Not even when he’d seen his family outside the city walls.

So what kind of person could rattle him now?

Maybe she should force a cross-plane switch and look for herself—

She tapped open her bank message, eyes skimming.

Balance: ¥0.80.

Tu Hua: “…!”

Right.

She’d forgotten. The system had just wrung her dry.

She sent him a message, blunt and sharp enough to cut through panic.

“Doesn’t matter who it is. You stay alive first.”

She could worry about everything else after she figured out how to make money.

On the ancient side, Xie Yu Chuan paused for a fraction of a breath. The Household God’s tone had turned suddenly grave. He remembered how light her voice had been earlier—she had to be busy, and still she was sparing attention for his safety.

Warmth bloomed in his chest.

He steadied his mind and replied.

“Household God, you don’t need to worry. Yu Heng may be suffering behind bars, but I can still protect myself.”

“Good,” Tu Hua answered. “If it turns dangerous, summon me.”

“Understood.”

Xie Yu Chuan’s face remained calm as he continued his silent communion.

You Zhan, meanwhile, looked like he was about to combust.

He hadn’t expected that even with restricted movement, Xie Yu Chuan could still press him back. Not by much—but enough to sting.

He snapped his fan shut and took a step—

A tall, broad figure blocked him.

Xiong Jiu Shan’s face was dark as a thunderhead. He held himself back, then forced the words out, rough and controlled.

“Young Master You. The hour is late. Please don’t delay my duty.”

You Zhan’s eyes cut cold. “And I should care?”

He jerked his chin.

“Move.”

Xiong Jiu Shan didn’t budge. The other soldiers stepped forward as well, a wall of steel and bad moods.

They were on official duty. They had already given face because of that palace token. That didn’t mean they were going to hand over a bound exile convict to someone with a temper and a grudge.

Xiong Jiu Shan’s anger rose hotter the longer You Zhan stood there.

This man might be a benefactor, but if anything happened, Xiong Jiu Shan would be the one paying in blood. Nine lives wouldn’t cover it.

You Zhan’s gaze sharpened. “I have a private grudge with the Xie family. Official Xiong insists on blocking me?”

Xiong Jiu Shan kept his voice steady, polite enough to pass. “Your grudge with the Xie family is none of my concern. But I have orders to escort the exile convict to the Liao Zhou garrison camp. This is an imperial assignment. There can be no mistakes. If Young Master doesn’t understand, you may ask Official Han from earlier.”

The words were smooth on the surface.

Underneath, they were iron.

Xiong Jiu Shan had already given enough face. If You Zhan refused to back down, then fine—Xiong Jiu Shan could report the situation upward and let someone higher decide how much trouble Young Master You was allowed to be.

“Young Master You! Young Master You—wait!”

Official Han came barreling in, half-sober and white in the face. He had been drinking comfortably upstairs. Then he’d glanced over and seen You Zhan actually trading blows with the exile convict—Xie Liu Lang—and nearly died on the spot.

He’d fallen off his chair, scrambled up, and sprinted down the stairs like his career depended on it.

Because it did.

You could question an exile convict. You could pull strings, grease palms, and make things convenient.

But you could not ignore the law and beat an exile convict to death in the street.

That was the kind of disaster that swallowed everyone nearby.

Official Han’s smile was gone, replaced by frantic caution. “Talking is one thing! But you can’t interfere with the government’s work!”

Even as he spoke, he shot Xiong Jiu Shan a wild look.

Take them and go. Now.

Xiong Jiu Shan didn’t need a second invitation.

“Official Han,” he said flatly, “I still have duties to carry out. I’ll take my leave.”

Official Han waved a trembling hand. “Go, go—please.”

Xiong Jiu Shan turned, jaw tight, and marched his men away, escorting Xie Yu Chuan with them.

You Zhan watched Xie Yu Chuan disappear into the moving line.

Behind him, his guard stepped close. “Young Master. Should I follow?”

You Zhan shook his head.

Then, after a heartbeat, he nodded once.

The guard slipped away like smoke, changing direction and quietly catching up to the exile convoy from another route.

Official Han waited until the prisoners were gone before turning fully to You Zhan. His expression was no longer friendly. He studied You Zhan from head to toe, measuring the trouble he might cause.

“Young Master You,” he said carefully, “you came to the capital at an invitation—for the marquis’s wedding, yes? Surely you don’t have… other matters to handle? If there’s anything you need, I do have some connections in the capital. I could assist.”

You Zhan heard the warning hidden in the courtesy.

Don’t cause a mess. Not here. Not now.

With Xie Yu Chuan gone, the heat in You Zhan’s blood cooled, as if someone had doused it. His face smoothed back into that lazy, indifferent look of a rich young master with nothing at stake.

“Official Han worries too much,” You Zhan said, mild as tea. “I’m here for the marquis’s wedding. I only happened to run into someone from the Xie family on the road and asked a few questions. I’ve troubled you—once we enter the city, I’ll make sure to thank you before the marquis for your care along the way.”

Official Han’s mood flipped instantly.

His smile returned so fast it almost looked painful. “Oh! Young Master You flatters me. I’m only returning to the capital to report for duty. ‘Care’ is far too grand a word. Please, please—Young Master You, after you.”

“Official Han, please.”

You Zhan walked with him, perfectly polite.

But inside, his thoughts had already shifted back to the reason he’d come.

He was investigating something. Near the city gate, he’d seen constables at the post station going in and out and heard the Xie family mentioned. He’d kept it in mind.

When he probed Xiong Jiu Shan earlier, he’d gotten confirmation.

A chance like this was rare.

How could he let Xie Yu Chuan go without squeezing what he could out of him?

Among the Xie family’s adult men who returned from the battlefield, only one remained. Any news about Xie Yu Heng now had to be dug out through Xie Yu Chuan.

And yet, judging from Xie Yu Chuan’s expression today, he didn’t seem to know much.

Or he hid it well.

You Zhan flicked open his paper fan, gaze narrowing as he stared in the direction the exile convoy had gone.

Either way, he’d found a thread.

There was time.

Sooner or later, he would get the answer he wanted.