Zheng Fang and Liu Qiong were Qing Huai’s personal guards, comrades who had faced life and death together for years.
Faced with Qing Zheng’s vicious words, Liu Qiong’s eyes blazed with anger, his fists clenched so tightly they creaked.
“What, you want to hit me?” Qing Zheng sneered, glancing at Liu Qiong and provocatively pointing to his nose. “Come on, hit me here!”
“Liu Qiong, don’t be rude!” Zheng Fang scolded, bowing as he said, “Young Master, please don’t stoop to our level. You must be busy, please go.”
Liu Qiong, suppressing his rage, also bowed.
Qing Zheng, the legitimate eldest son of the Duke of Qing, held a lofty status. With their rank, not only could they not strike him, but even retorting could prompt Qing Zheng to have them seized immediately.
With Qing Huai absent from Bianjing, if they were captured, they’d have no hope of release.
So, they could only endure.
But the more they yielded, the more arrogant Qing Zheng became, deliberately taunting, “You haven’t answered me. Are you here to report the third brother’s death?”
“Replying to the Young Master, the marquis is in good health,” Zheng Fang said.
“Marquis! Marquis! I’ve told you before, in the Duke of Qing’s residence, you’re not allowed to call Qing Huai marquis!” Qing Zheng exploded like a cat with its tail stepped on, kicking Liu Qiong several times.
From childhood, he had never respected Qing Huai, yet this illegitimate son had earned a noble title in the military.
Qing Zheng vividly recalled the day news of Qing Huai’s military achievements and title reached home, how overjoyed the Duke of Qing was, the entire residence buzzing with celebration.
In the years that followed, the duke hinted more than once at passing his title to Qing Huai.
This filled Qing Zheng with fear and fury.
From that day, he tried every means to suppress Qing Huai.
But as a mere wastrel in the capital, his influence couldn’t reach the frontier. Far from being suppressed, Qing Huai earned repeated military merits, his title rising until he was a marquis, just one step below a duke.
In Dakang’s hierarchy, titles descended from prince, county prince, duke, marquis, earl, viscount, to baron, with prince reserved for the emperor’s brothers and sons, and county prince for royal kin.
By Dakang law, all titles decreased with each generation.
For instance, after the Duke of Qing’s death, Qing Zheng could inherit the title, but not as a duke, only as a marquis.
And Qing Huai was already a marquis.
In feudal society, hierarchy was paramount. Even if Qing Huai became a duke, as his elder brother, Qing Zheng would still demand deference.
This was the source of Qing Zheng’s arrogance.
Yet, he felt uneasy, believing Qing Huai had stolen his spotlight as the legitimate son.
The title was Qing Zheng’s deepest wound, and he forbade anyone in the residence from calling Qing Huai marquis.
Liu Qiong’s earlier address of Qing Huai as marquis was a deliberate jab, venting his frustration by prodding Qing Zheng’s sore spot.
Though a wastrel, Qing Zheng wasn’t foolish. Sensing Liu Qiong’s mockery, he wasn’t satisfied with just kicks, grabbing a wooden staff from nearby and swinging it at Liu Qiong.
The staff, used by the gatehouse for emergencies, was as thick as an arm. If Qing Zheng struck freely, Liu Qiong might not die but would surely be severely injured.
Zheng Fang rushed forward, pleading, “Young Master, Liu Qiong just returned and spoke out of habit. He didn’t mean it. Please, forgive him.”
Before he finished, Zheng Fang took a blow to the head.
Realising the beating was unavoidable, Zheng Fang and Liu Qiong crouched, covering their heads, trying to protect themselves.
They prayed Qing Zheng would soon relent.
As if heaven heard them, before Qing Zheng landed many blows, a stern voice rang out, “What’s going on?”
Looking up, they saw the Duke of Qing returning from court.
“Father, these two servants were disobedient, I’m disciplining them,” Qing Zheng said, his arrogance vanishing as he bowed.
His manners were impeccable.
“Discipline servants inside, not at the gate. What does this look like?” In feudal times, servants were little better than livestock. The duke, merely annoyed at his son’s public display, asked casually before heading inside.
At that moment, Zheng Fang mustered courage and shouted, “Duke, please wait. The third young master sent me to deliver a family letter!”
“Qing Huai?” The duke paused, looking at Zheng Fang and Liu Qiong. “Who are you?”
Usually, Qing Huai brought only Zhong Wu and the steward to the residence, so the duke didn’t recognise Zheng Fang.
“I’m the third young master’s personal guard,” Liu Qiong said, pulling out the letter and raising it above his head.
The duke checked the wax seal, confirmed it was intact, and opened the envelope.
After reading a few lines, his brow furrowed slightly.
Qing Zheng, itching to know the letter’s contents, rubbed his hands anxiously.
Just as he pondered how to inquire, the duke asked, “Is Qing Huai planning to return to the battlefield?”
Qing Zheng’s eyes lit up at this.
“Replying to the duke, since returning to Jinchuan, the marquis has been constantly thinking of his Iron Forest Army brothers, losing much weight,” Zheng Fang said.
“Does Qing Huai know where the Iron Forest Army is stationed now?” the duke asked.
“I don’t know if the marquis is aware, but before we left, he asked us to kowtow to you, begging you to grant his wish,” Zheng Fang said.
Both he and Liu Qiong knelt, kowtowed to the duke, and kept their heads lowered, awaiting his response.
“Take them to the west garden,” the duke said, not answering Zheng Fang but gesturing for the gatekeeper to lead them away.
“Yes!” The gatekeeper bowed. “Please follow me.”
Knowing the duke hadn’t decided, Zheng Fang kowtowed again and followed the gatekeeper.
“If you’ve nothing to do, read more books instead of wandering all day,” the duke said, glancing at Qing Zheng with displeasure before leaving with his entourage.
“Yes!” Qing Zheng bowed in agreement, his eyes gleaming.
He had planned to visit the gambling house, but now lost interest, hurrying back to his courtyard.
In his study, he pulled out a map, but before he could study it, the second son, Qing Fan, rushed in.
“Big brother, I heard Qing Huai wrote to father to regain military command. You were there, why didn’t you dissuade father?” Qing Fan said. “Qing Huai’s already a marquis. If he wins a few more battles, what then?”
“When father speaks, how dare I interrupt?” Qing Zheng snapped.
“Uh…” Qing Fan, recalling their father’s authority, asked, “What now? Should we ask mother for help?”
“No need,” Qing Zheng waved dismissively. “Second brother, do you know where the Iron Forest Army is now?”
“How would I know?”
“They’re in Qingshui Valley,” Qing Zheng said, pointing to the map.
“What’s wrong with Qingshui Valley?” Qing Fan immediately caught his brother’s implication.
