6. Chapter 6

“You are going to do what?” Meng Zhi can physically feel his brain melting. “At Jingrui’s birthday party? Did I get that right?”

“I can explain it again. When—”

“No! No, thank you, I got it the first time.” He stares at the small pot of tea between them. Mei Changsu, sensing his mood, goes quiet and fixates on making their tea. He’s very good at it, Meng Zhi thinks distantly as his mind continues to churn on the frankly outrageous plot Mei Changsu has put in motion to take down Xie Yu.

He thinks that Lin Shu never had the patience to be this graceful, this elegant, while doing something so mundane as making tea. As a boy his grace was in his power and his drive, like a wild predator. He was fun spirited and a jokester but no one ever mistook him for harmless.

Now, though, Mei Changsu could pass for a gentleman raised to run a royal household, his moves so delicate and precise they resemble a dance. Someone taught him that, Meng Zhi realizes. Someone taught him how to be a gracious and exemplary help-meet for a master of the house that Mei Changsu had not even decided on yet. Because Mei Changsu prepares for every possibility, he had someone teach him how to match the highest standards of etiquette and finesse.

Horror runs through his veins to realize that Mei Changsu had readied himself for the possibility of entering the emperor’s palace as a concubine or consort, if it had come to that.

What is his husband not willing to do?

This plan, this madness that will make a catastrophe of Jingrui’s birthday, is a mere shade of the extent that Mei Changsu will go to in order to bring down his enemies.

Meng Zhi cannot decide if he is proud of this fact or terrified of it. Such devotion to a cause is admirable, but he cannot push aside the fear that Mei Changsu has already bet his life on his goals.

That, maybe, he doesn’t plan to survive them.

Like a spark, he connects that fact to Mei Changsu’s unwillingness to reveal himself to Jingyan. If Mei Changsu expects to die (is planning on it?), that would require Prince Jing losing his best friend (lover?) for a second time, and even Mei Changsu is not that cruel.

He feels faint at the sudden insight, but years of training kick in and he forces himself back to the present with several long, slow breaths.

It makes sense, now, why Mei Changsu was so violently opposed to marrying Jingrui. This scheme will destroy the boy, and not incidentally, both of his families. If Mei Changsu’s plan goes well — and there is no guarantee of that — then at best Xie Yu will end up in prison and the families’ alliance will be permanently destroyed. At worst...at worst, people will die. Meng Zhi is a soldier, he knows that battle plans become no better than polite suggestions once opponents are engaged.

“I will support you in this on one condition,” he says as his husband hands him a cup of tea. It smells heavenly and tastes just as good.

Mei Changsu is looking perplexed, which is valid, as Meng Zhi has yet to have ever asked anything of him. “A condition?”

“Mmm. Yes. One.” Meng Zhi nods, knowing their own personal battle is now fully engaged, and uncertain of how long it will last, or what it will ultimately cost him.

“Which is?” The Divine Talent moves into place across from him.

“You promise me, here and now, in this scheme and going forward, that you will do nothing that will shorten your life.”

Mei Changsu looks utterly shocked by that, which means Meng Zhi’s deepest fears were accurate.

“I mean in all circumstances, Mei Changsu! I mean now, and tomorrow, and as long as you naturally live. You will hide when there is fighting, you will rest when you are sick, and you will take no path that will purposefully devise a date for you to die.”

Mei Changsu sits as if a sword has been thrust straight through him.

“You promise me this, and I will follow you to the end. I will fight for you and for Prince Jing. I will do anything you ask in pursuit of your goal.”

“And...and if I don’t promise?” His eyes dart to the side.

“I will still fight for you and for Prince Jing. My loyalty is not so false. But I will also put your health and well being above your goals. I will carry you out of a battle, even if it means losing it. I will tattle on your condition to Prince Jing, and even that damnedable Lin Chen.” He leans forward, looking directly into Mei Changsu’s shocked expression. “Even now, you think you can outmaneuver me, and I know you can. I have never met a smarter man than you, Mei Changsu. But you are in a corner, here, as my husband, and as Prince Jing’s strategist. I can and will have you sent to my farm in the valley, and Prince Jing will escort you there himself if he knows why.”

There is a long, heavy silence as they stare at each other, opponents fully engaged. Meng Zhi can see Mei Changsu recalculating their relationship, weighing the pros and cons right there. He finally puts down his own cup, which he had been holding in mid-air the whole time.

“Nothing is more important than my goals, Commander. Nothing. Not my life, and not yours,” Mei Changsu says slowly, his eyes burning with anger.

“I understand, but my position on this matter is firm.” Meng Zhi shrugs. He respects Mei Changsu’s goals, but only to a point.

“You know, I can have you killed at any time.”

“You can try! Many have.” Meng Zhi finishes his tea. “But I am betting that you will not.”

“Perhaps you put too much weight in our friendship.”

“I put no weight in it whatsoever, not in this matter.”

Mei Changsu cocks his head, appraising him, waiting.

Meng Zhi smiles. “What you have never accounted for, my most brilliant husband, is that I love you. I love you with all my heart, and I have loved you for years. I will do anything to keep you safe. You might be willing to gamble with your life, but I am not. I never will. I love you too much. It is my burden, and I ask nothing of you as a husband or a lover. But you need to know that I will go to my grave fighting for your life. Every time.” He stands up. Mei Changsu is staring at him, his face blank of any emotions but his hands fisting his robes so tightly his knuckles are white.

“If you agree to my condition, then we will be on the same side of the game board. If you do not, then you will have to kill me to get me to stop trying to save you.”

He bows, then leaves the room because there is nothing else to say.

---

That night, a servant brings a single sheet of paper to Meng Zhi’s suite. In Mei Changsu’s spidery, shaky handwriting is one sentence: “I agree to your terms.”

It is a bittersweet victory, but one he cherishes nonetheless. Many smarter men have gone up against Mei Changsu and lost everything. Meng Zhi has lost something, of that he is certain — he sacrificed their friendship for this promise.

It could have cost him his own life (and yet might still), but with all his heart he believes that it was a bet worth taking.

He puts the note into a small lacquered box by his bed, placing it gently next to the only other object that box holds: a silver locket containing a tiny braid of Yin Yin and their son’s hair.