Encountering a Snake - Chapter 9

V2C9

 

Looking at the soaring flames compressed into a small bundle, Ji Jiu was suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of frustration. Such feats of defiance were beyond him; he was merely a mortal, incapable of many things. For instance, the strange sight before him, which should have caused an uproar in the camp, now remained eerily silent. It felt as if the entire world had vanished, leaving only himself. These flames, this smoke, and Ji Jiu himself seemed to exist in a mysterious, otherworldly space, compelling him to ask: Who am I?

 

Amid this confusion, another voice emerged, drifting through his mind as if in response: You are Ji Jiu.

 

I am Ji Jiu. Ji Jiu sat on the ground in dejection, but after a moment of bewilderment, he straightened his back, washed up, and went to bed. That night, he had no dreams.

 

Outside his military duties, Ji Jiu began occupying himself with other matters—confronting something he had long avoided: his past life. At nearly thirty years old, he found himself tracing clues to seek out the fragments of a vague previous existence. The very thought amused him. Having spent twenty years as a staunch atheist, he was now, as a man with one foot in the grave, delving into the concept of reincarnation. No matter whom he told, such a notion would surely provoke laughter. Yet he had no choice—when you walk in the dark long enough, you eventually meet a ghost. Ji Jiu hadn’t believed that before, but now he did.

 

He already had a plan. Consulting the demon was out of the question; they remained silent toward one another, and besides, the demon had not appeared for the past month. The wandering Taoist was also unavailable, and even if Ji Jiu found him, coercing answers was beneath him. Ji Jiu wasn’t the type to resort to vile methods. That left only one lead: Shen Jue.

 

He decided to start with Shen Jue.

 

Ji Jiu resolved to proceed discreetly. He requested a large batch of military records and located the one containing Shen Jue’s file. The document was straightforward: Shen Jue, a native of Yongcheng, twenty-five years old, orphaned.

 

Holding the thick document, Ji Jiu pondered for a long time before taking out paper and pen, neatly copying the two characters for “Yongcheng.”

 

He then reviewed the files of other soldiers, finding that the army had about a dozen men from Yongcheng. Young men likely knew little, so Ji Jiu narrowed his focus to two individuals: an old cook and a stable guard. Each problem had its method of resolution, and Ji Jiu intended to uncover the past buried beyond his memory using his own means. Perhaps it was the spreading bloodstains on his bed or the too-tight grip around his body that spurred him to face these mysteries.

 

Shen Jue suddenly entered, announcing a visitor.

 

Ji Jiu hurriedly covered the scattered documents on his desk and instructed him to bring the guest in.

 

The visitor was none other than the elegantly dressed man Ji Jiu had met briefly in the imperial city. Ji Jiu blinked in surprise before quickly chuckling, “Lord Shen.” His sharp gaze quietly studied the man before him: Shen Hai, the emperor’s trusted advisor.

 

The Ji family also maintained many retainers—scholarly and talented men who eventually pursued official positions. But everyone knew they had once been Ji family retainers, a mark that would fade only with the family’s collapse. The man before Ji Jiu, however, was a retainer of the emperor, a status worlds apart. Shen Hai held no official position, which ironically suited certain tasks better than any title.

 

Ji Jiu mused that Shen Hai had undoubtedly earned the emperor’s trust, a role Ji Jiu no longer held.

 

Shen Hai bowed slightly. “General Ji, I trust you have been well.”

 

Ji Jiu invited him to sit, served tea, and replied, “Quite well.”

 

Shen Hai studied him briefly before smiling. “General, there’s no need to address me as ‘lord,’ nor do you ask why I’ve come.”

 

Ji Jiu only smiled silently, his gaze sharp and penetrating. His years in the military had honed a calm yet fierce composure that few could withstand. Yet Shen Hai remained undaunted, his expression serene. But through his calm demeanor, Ji Jiu detected traces of suppressed pain—this was a man with burdens. Why else would someone as talented as Shen Hai avoid the imperial examination, resorting instead to methods to become an imperial confidant? Everyone knew serving the emperor was as perilous as dancing with a tiger.

 

After a moment, Shen Hai lowered his eyes and spoke plainly, “Since the army has begun recruitment recently, His Majesty sent me to inquire.”

 

Ji Jiu replied, “The memorial is already drafted, though I haven’t submitted it yet. Since you’re here, perhaps you could present it to the emperor for me?”

 

Shen Hai paused, clearly caught off guard, and blurted, “Aren’t you afraid His Majesty might suspect you and seize your family’s military seal?”

 

Ji Jiu laughed. “If it were that simple, why would His Majesty bother sending you?”

 

Shen Hai fell silent before smiling faintly. “I’ll leave the memorial to you, General. Instead, I must trouble you to accompany me to the capital. His Majesty awaits your presence.”

 

Ji Jiu agreed without hesitation, setting their departure for the next day. Shen Jue would accompany them.

 

As the capital’s grand palaces emerged like an unfolding painting, stark against the autumnal decay, Ji Jiu gazed upward, recalling his youth. He had once walked here, side by side with the man who now sat on the throne, helping him ascend. Now, it was time for Ji Jiu to withdraw. A wave of melancholy swept over him.

 

Shen Hai stood silently by his side until Ji Jiu returned to himself, and the three resumed their journey.

 

Shen Jue waited outside the palace gates while Ji Jiu and Shen Hai entered the imperial study. After a brief exchange, Shen Hai withdrew, leaving Ji Jiu to face the emperor alone.

 

The emperor, hunched over his desk, didn’t look up. Ji Jiu knelt silently. The two remained locked in a wordless standoff, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

 

After a long pause, the emperor tossed his vermillion brush aside and broke the silence. “Are you here just to kneel before me?”

 

“What does Your Majesty wish?” Ji Jiu asked calmly.

 

“Ji Jiu!” The emperor rose abruptly, towering over the kneeling figure. “Recruiting troops without authorization—are you tired of being a general?!”

 

“Your Majesty,” Ji Jiu replied evenly, “I dare not.”

 

“Dare not?” The emperor sneered. “Is there anything in this world Ji Jiu dares not do? This is news to me.”

 

“Your Majesty,” Ji Jiu retrieved the unsubmitted memorial, “the document has long been prepared. The delay in submission was due to half a month of incessant rain.”

 

“So the heavens themselves prevented you from delivering it.” The emperor glanced at the memorial and tossed it onto the desk. “It seems even the heavens disapprove of your recruitment.”

 

“The soldiers are already recruited,” Ji Jiu said blandly. “It seems the heavens merely delayed Your Majesty’s notice.”

 

The emperor’s face darkened, his fury barely contained. Ji Jiu, head bowed, remained impassive, exuding an air of innocent compliance. The emperor glared at the silent figure, fuming inwardly. This same infuriating submissiveness—used for over a decade! His Majesty tamped down his rage and commanded Ji Jiu to rise.

 

Ji Jiu complied, standing with head bowed. His deference only further provoked the emperor, who grabbed his chin, forcing Ji Jiu to meet his gaze. “You’ve certainly grown bold!”

 

Ji Jiu stared back, his tone as maddeningly calm as ever. “Your subject is terrified.”

 

The emperor released him and sighed, “Three years have passed. Can you not let it go?”

 

Ji Jiu turned slightly, avoiding the emperor’s gaze. “Let go of what?”

 

The emperor fell silent before muttering, “Do you think I wanted to lose them?” Then he said no more.

 

Ji Jiu also fell silent. Three years ago, a fire consumed the imperial palace’s main hall, claiming the lives of several royal princes, uncles—and even the empress dowager. Ji Jiu had stood amidst the flames, finally realizing that even the bond he had with the emperor would one day crumble. Their paths would inevitably diverge, leading to a confrontation that could end only with the annihilation of one side.

 

Ji Jiu lowered his eyes. “It’s all in the past. Your subject remembers nothing.”

 

The emperor turned away, his voice barely audible. “Xiao Jiu, you will leave me one day.”

 

Ji Jiu said nothing for a long moment before replying, “Your Majesty will one day no longer need me.”

 

The emperor spun around abruptly, voice resolute: “Never!”

 

Ji Jiu remained silent. Eventually, he responded softly, “I don’t believe you.”

 

“You dare not believe your emperor?!” the emperor barked.

 

Ji Jiu met his gaze briefly before looking away. “I don’t believe a sovereign who argues with me here.”

 

The emperor was left speechless.

 

After a long silence, the emperor, frustrated, gestured toward a plate of pastries. “Your favorite Green Cloud Silk Cakes. Go eat.”

 

Ji Jiu complied, taking a seat and quietly eating two pieces before setting the plate down.

 

The emperor, now calmer, reviewed the memorial and finally spoke, “You needn’t worry about recruitment; the old general will handle it. Ji Jiu…”

 

Ji Jiu knelt immediately. “Your subject is here.”

 

“I’ll assign you two thousand elite soldiers. What say you?”

 

Ji Jiu was taken aback. “For what purpose?”

 

“I’ve heard the Xiongnu royal court lies deep within the desert, where no one has ventured. I want you to lead a force to map the route,” the emperor said coldly. “If you wish to pacify the northern frontier, how can you not know the way?”

 

Ji Jiu knelt silently before finally replying, his voice tinged with emotion. “Your subject obeys. However, two thousand troops would be excessive; supplying them would be difficult. Five hundred elite soldiers will suffice.”

 

The emperor frowned. “Five hundred? Are you seeking death?”

 

“Not at all. My men and I can disguise ourselves as merchants,” Ji Jiu said nonchalantly.

 

“Are you certain about the five hundred?” the emperor asked again.

 

“Certain.” Ji Jiu’s mind, however, thought the number still too large.

 

And so, the matter was settled.

 

The emperor rose and continued reviewing memorials, instructing Ji Jiu to sit and wait as there was still something to discuss. Ji Jiu, unsure of what was to come, sat back down, eating snacks and sipping tea. Satiated, his mind grew hazy. Having rushed back after much toil, he was naturally exhausted. Now that the major task was done, he felt a weight lifted from his heart. Coupled with a full stomach, he glanced at the emperor, who remained engrossed in his work, showing no signs of finishing soon. Resting his head on his hand to take a break, he inadvertently dozed off.

 

When he woke, he found himself lying on a soft couch, covered with a quilt of bright yellow embroidered with soaring dragons and phoenixes. Beside him, a wooden table held a burning incense stick, its soothing smoke curling gently. Ji Jiu rubbed his bleary eyes, staring blankly for a moment before sitting up in a daze. As he moved, he realized someone was next to him. Turning his head, he saw the emperor, partially dressed in his dragon robe, holding a memorial as he reclined by the bed. Seeing Ji Jiu awake, the emperor glanced sideways from behind the document and said, “Had a good nap?”

 

Ji Jiu looked at him, seemingly in a trance.

 

The emperor kicked him lightly under the quilt, sounding impatient. “Are you awake or not?”

 

Ji Jiu mumbled an “Mm,” his voice hazy as though still dreaming. “Awake.”

 

“Hungry?”

 

“Mm.” Just after replying, Ji Jiu suddenly jolted fully awake, sensing trouble. He hurriedly knelt beside the bed, saying, “Your subject has been disrespectful. Please punish me, Your Majesty.”

 

The emperor ignored him, letting him kneel as he ordered the eunuchs to bring a small table onto the bed. The eunuchs, heads bowed low, silently set up the tableware before retreating. Only then did the emperor speak. “Get up. I haven’t eaten yet either. Let’s eat together.”

 

Ji Jiu had no choice but to rise, taking a bowl and chopsticks to stand by the side. The emperor snapped, “Sit down!”

 

Ji Jiu obeyed, perching nervously on the edge of the bed.

 

The two ate in silence until the emperor suddenly said, “I heard someone’s been staying in your tent at night.”

 

Ji Jiu, eating cautiously, almost spat out his porridge upon hearing this. Swallowing hurriedly, he choked and began coughing violently.

 

The emperor, watching his red-eyed coughing fit, remained unperturbed and spoke leisurely, “I was told the figure looked like a man. Since when have you taken a liking to such things?”

 

Ji Jiu, coughing and waving his hands frantically in denial, could only shake his head.

 

Seeing his struggle, the emperor kindly patted his back. “Seems it’s true, judging by how frightened you are.”

 

His words only made Ji Jiu cough harder, as if about to pass out.

 

The emperor fell silent.

 

Finally, Ji Jiu managed to catch his breath, rubbing his throat as he replied, “Your subject does not indulge in such preferences.”

 

The emperor sneered, “I know. Otherwise…” He trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

 

Ji Jiu averted his gaze, pretending not to notice, and hurriedly continued eating, hoping to escape quickly. The emperor, however, saw through his intentions. Not letting him off, he said, “The other day I asked you, ‘What follows the phrase Bao zhi yi qiong jiu?’ You claimed ignorance of literature as a military man. Today, I’ll ask again—how will you answer?”

 

Setting down his bowl and chopsticks, Ji Jiu responded earnestly, “Your subject is unlearned.”

 

“Unlearned?” The emperor’s face briefly turned cold before he laughed. Signaling for the table to be cleared, he lowered the bed curtains and removed his outer robe. “Have you ever truly been ignorant?”

 

Ji Jiu froze. Seeing the emperor’s stern expression as though serious, he hastily said, “Your Majesty!”

 

Before he could say more, he was suddenly embraced.

 

Ji Jiu’s mind went blank. Instinctively gripping the emperor’s shoulders, he shoved him away. “Your Majesty!”

 

The emperor, pushed back, grew angry and narrowed his eyes. “You dare push me?!”

 

Ji Jiu’s raised hand froze mid-air before slowly retracting. “I dare not.” After a pause, he added, “Your subject is no concubine from the imperial harem.”

 

“I know that better than you.” The emperor, noticing Ji Jiu’s stiff expression, softened slightly. “What harm is there in staying by my side?”

 

Ji Jiu lowered his head and said flatly, “Your subject can only be Your Majesty’s general. The battlefield is my destiny. If I stay by Your Majesty’s side, I am no longer myself.”

 

The emperor fell silent, finally pulling Ji Jiu’s calloused hand into his own, gently stroking it before gripping it tightly. He asked, “If you’re not Ji Jiu, then who are you?”

 

Who else could he be?

 

He was the emperor, revered and feared by all. Yet who else, apart from Ji Jiu, would show him even a shred of sincerity? The emperor asked again:

 

“If you’re not Ji Jiu, then who are you?”

 

Looking at him, Ji Jiu felt a moment of dazed reminiscence. It was as if he was looking at the bullied young prince from years ago, the one he, as a young companion, had supported through punishments and injuries. Two boys, leaning against each other on a simple, shabby bed, finding solace and support in one another.

 

Back then, the bed was neither bright yellow nor adorned with imposing dragon patterns. It was simple, to the point of being dilapidated. On that day, the young Ji Jiu swore: I will see you on the throne. Why should they sit there when you cannot? The young prince, red-eyed yet resolute, replied earnestly: If I become emperor, I’ll make you my general and give you command of the entire army.

 

Over time, those vows came true. But Ji Jiu was no longer the reckless youth he had been, and the emperor was no longer the pitiable young prince.

 

Their youthful camaraderie had transformed, as had the faint undercurrents of unspoken sentiment. Ji Jiu thought, had he not become emperor, perhaps—just perhaps—those subtle feelings might have found room to grow.

 

But now, he was the emperor, and Ji Jiu was his subject. Despite mutual regard for the past, defenses had crept into their relationship. The faint traces of affection had long since vanished.

 

Squeezing Ji Jiu’s hand tightly, the emperor asked, “Have I not treated you well?” Over the years, he had protected and indulged him—anyone could see his favor for his former companion. Yet Ji Jiu refused to acknowledge it.

 

Ji Jiu said, “What Your Majesty seeks is not Ji Jiu.”

 

“Nonsense. Don’t I know what I want?”

 

“What Your Majesty wants is the Ji Jiu who pacified the empire, not one who warms your bed.” Ji Jiu withdrew his hand. “Does Your Majesty truly want Ji Jiu? Or is it the two youths from ten years ago?”

 

After a pause, Ji Jiu added, “But youths always grow up.”

 

The emperor straightened, saying no more. Instead, he pulled Ji Jiu into an embrace, as if holding on to a past that had slipped through his fingers—a past of youthful audacity and fleeting, beautiful days.

 

Ji Jiu remained motionless, his expression calm but tinged with weariness.

 

Adulthood, too, was a kind of exhaustion—one they hadn’t foreseen in their youth.

 

Just then, a gust of wind caused the lamps to flicker. Ji Jiu tensed, swiftly drawing his sword to shield the emperor. Though his reflexes were sharp, he was still outpaced.

 

In that instant of flickering light, the emperor was struck down, landing on the bed with his throat gripped tightly.

 

Seeing this, Ji Jiu shouted, “Shen Jue, stand down!”

 

The sudden intruder, a young man with a fiery gaze, exuded a murderous aura. But at Ji Jiu’s command, he released his grip.

 

The emperor, clutching his throat, looked both startled and furious, yet he concealed it well. Coldly, he asked, “Who are you?”

 

Ji Jiu immediately knelt. “Your Majesty, this is my guard. He’s brash and simple-minded. I deeply regret the fright caused to Your Majesty and willingly accept punishment.”

 

The emperor, realizing Ji Jiu was covering for him, remained silent for a moment before saying coolly, “So this is the one who’s been ‘staying in your tent at night’?”

 

Ji Jiu froze, unable to explain before Shen Jue angrily retorted, “Nonsense! Don’t insult… my general!”

 

The hesitation in his words didn’t escape the emperor or Ji Jiu. The emperor, pondering, asked, “The palace is heavily guarded. How did you get in?”

 

Ji Jiu took over, pulling Shen Jue to kneel. “He’s an orphan with no ties, wandering aimlessly and picking up strange skills…”

 

The emperor interrupted, pointing at Shen Jue. “Let him speak!”

 

Shen Jue glanced at his “father” and reluctantly admitted he’d learned some “odd skills.”

 

The emperor adjusted his robe and looked at the two, amused. “Interesting. Ji Jiu, you may retire and rest.”

 

Ji Jiu paled. “Your Majesty!”

 

“What? Do you think he’ll still kill me if you leave?” the emperor asked, noticing Ji Jiu’s stiff expression. He added, “If you won’t stay by my side, why not let him serve me instead?”

 

Ji Jiu rose abruptly. “No!”

 

The emperor’s gaze darkened. “No?”

 

Shen Jue also stood, tugging Ji Jiu’s sleeve. “General, don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

 

Ji Jiu said firmly, “No!”

 

Shen Jue hesitated. “Really, it’s fine. Go back.”

 

The emperor said, “Ji Jiu, do you truly think I wouldn’t dare touch you?!”

 

Ji Jiu stood still for a moment before drawing his sword and throwing it to the ground, declaring angrily, “I’ll take the punishment in his place!” The sword gleamed coldly, its killing intent palpable.

 

Shen Jue suddenly smiled, his usually stern features softening into boyishness. “Father.”

 

Ji Jiu glared at him but grunted in acknowledgment.

 

The emperor’s expression was inscrutable. “How is it I didn’t know you had an adopted son?”

 

Shen Jue said, “Father, go. I’ll be fine.”

 

Ji Jiu ignored him.

 

Shen Jue added hurriedly, “Truly, I’ll be fine,” casting a disdainful glance at the emperor. “He’s just an emperor, after all.”

 

Never before had the emperor heard someone dismiss him so flippantly. For a moment, he was speechless.

 

Ji Jiu immediately rebuked, “Silence!”

 

The scene devolved into utter chaos.