8. Chapter 8

“You’re leaving?” Mu Chun crossed his arms as he watched several household staff load up a wagon. “You just got here!”

“We’ve been here for three months. We need to leave.” Gu She stood next to him, eyeing the proceedings and somehow restraining himself from yelling at everyone to hurry up.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, Gu She. You weren’t planning to leave until the court departed for the Spring Hunt.”

“Plans change,” Gu She said grimly, remembering what Tao Mo had revealed to him the night before. Lin Shu! The Young Marshall Lin! Was Mei Changsu! It would be unbelievable if it did not make so much sense. Pieces of the puzzle he had been mulling on for weeks fell into place with sickening clarity as soon as Tao Mo had uttered those dangerous words about the brilliant strategist.

He had realized in that instant, before telling Tao Mo to be quiet, that if Mei Changsu (Lin Shu!) knew that they knew who he was, they would surely be dead before dawn.

Fleeing was his best and his only solution to avoid the approaching slaughter, because it was clear to him that his former friend Lin Shu had returned from the dead to wreak vengeance on the emperor himself. No one would emerge from that conflagration unscathed, not even (perhaps especially) Jingyan.

While Gu She theoretically supported that noble cause, if only for the memory of his own beloved brother and the Chiyan Army, he wasn’t stupid enough to stand around like a spectator while heads rolled.

Did Jingyan know? Gu She doubted it, despite the obvious closeness of the prince and his strategist. Jingyan had grown into a shrewd and intelligent man but he had the blinders of a plow horse when it came to personal matters such as this. He toyed with trying to relay the knowledge to him, somehow, but again: if Mei Changsu (Lin Shu!) found out, he and Tao Mo would not make it out of the city alive.

“Husband! What is going on?” Tao Mo fluttered into the courtyard, trailing a somber Lao Tao. Did he know?

“We must leave. Immediately.” Gu She hoped his authority as the head of their household would carry with Tao Mo, but he should have known better.

“But why?” Tao Mo asked plaintively while Gu She floundered. Then he gasped and covered his mouth in horror. “Oh no! Was there another terrible murder we have to investigate?”

Gu She didn’t hesitate for even a moment. “Yes. Yes, there was. A murder. A terrible, horrible, awful murder. A tragedy. We must go investigate it right now.”

Mu Chun side eyed him but thankfully kept his damn mouth shut.

“Of course! Of course, oh no! Lao Tao, quickly! We must pack up my boudoir!” Tao Mo turned and fled.

Mu Chun sauntered closer. “Shall I send someone ahead to commit this terrible awful tragic murder for you?”

Gu She closed his eyes. “That would be appreciated, yes.”

“I have just the victim in mind. A cruel and annoying man, no one will miss him, especially not his family.”

“We’ll make sure his widow is taken care of,” Gu She offered.

“Hmmm. Are you going to tell me what this is about?”

Gu She turned to the man who was now, albeit distantly and by marriage, his cousin. “You should take the princess and leave Jinling immediately.”

Mu Chun, reading the gravity of the situation clearly for once, gave him a searching look. “We can’t. We’ve been invited to the Spring Hunt.”

Gu She nodded. Those were less “invitations” than “command performances” that could not be declined. “Then leave straight away afterward. Don’t even return to the city. Just leave Mt. Jiu An and keep going in a different direction.”

Mu Chun didn’t argue, simply nodded, reading Gu She’s expression for what it was: a warning.

But in the end, it was all for naught. Just as Gu She tucked his precious husband into their travel carriage and mounted his horse to ride out, an Imperial Eunuch arrived to present them with their own invitation to the Spring Hunt.