Chapter 128: Needs

In the Kaifeng Prefecture, nothing spreads faster than rumors—not even birds flying higher or fish swimming quicker.

Xie Yu had barely finished surrounding the Prince Su’s mansion with his men when half the imperial court already knew about it.

One can easily imagine how shocked the court officials were.

Xie Yu didn’t have time to think about that.

He took many of Prince Su’s close aides from the mansion for questioning by the magistrates Song and his team, then proceeded directly to the palace.

Since this involved royal relatives, it naturally wasn’t like handling other cases. Whether the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Imperial Clan should get involved would ultimately be decided by the emperor.

What exactly transpired between the emperor and his nephew remains unknown, but when they emerged, Grand Eunuch Wang Zhong keenly noticed that Lord Xiao’s expression seemed more complicated than usual.

Xie Yu had waited until after the emperor finished his court session to have an audience, and they engaged in a private conversation that lasted most of the morning. He declined the emperor’s offer of a meal and left the palace just before noon.

As he stepped out, he was surprised to see Xie Xian standing with his hands clasped outside the palace gate.

He was handsome, and with his casual posture leaning against the palace wall, he looked like a delicate ink painting of mountains and rivers.

Seeing Xie Yu come out, Xie Xian smiled—truly like a noble gentleman, saying simply, “Finished talking?”

Xie Yu paused, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Let’s go, let’s go,” Xie Xian immediately dropped his decorum, like a mischievous crane barging into a serene landscape, flapping his arms wildly. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

One rode a horse, the other took a sedan chair, both moving quickly, without exchanging a single word along the way.

It wasn’t until Xie Xian’s sedan stopped in front of the restaurant that Xie Yu finally couldn’t help but ask, “Aren’t you going home to have lunch with Mother?”

Xie Xian poked his head out of the sedan and gave him a look, “With that gloomy expression on your face? Definitely not taking you back for the Princess to see!”

Xie Yu: “…”

He instinctively touched his face.

Was it really that obvious?

The waiters at the restaurant had already spotted them from afar and rushed to inform the owner.

So when the Xie father and son entered, the plump owner hurried over to personally guide them.

“Same usual dishes?” the owner poured tea for them and asked.

Xie Xian often dined here, and the entire restaurant staff took great pride in it.

Xie Xian thought for a moment, then ordered two more jugs of wine. Turning to Xie Yu with a smile, he said, “Today calls for a grand toast.”

The owner didn’t dare ask what occasion it was, simply nodded and left.

Once the owner was gone, Xie Xian gave Xie Yu a very strange and satisfied look, sighing, “I wouldn’t dare do something like this back in my day.”

But you did it—and that’s great!

Truly, the son surpasses the father.

Xie Yu felt a complex mix of emotions because he had seen a similar expression and praise earlier in the palace—from his own uncle.

It didn’t feel like genuine praise at all.

The emperor had even gone into great detail asking about Prince Su’s reaction at the time, reminiscing fondly, and eventually laughing so hard his face wrinkled.

It was the kind of situation where you’ve just done something mischievous, your heart still uneasy, but instead of scolding you, the elders around you all give you a look of approval—as if to say, “Now you’re finally growing up.” It was unsettlingly surreal.

Xie Xian patted his shoulder, filled with paternal pride. “My boy’s grown up.”

Xie Yu: “…”

Is growing up really measured this way?

Does being able to do bad things and lie make you an adult?

Knowing his son better than anyone else, Xie Xian didn’t need Xie Yu to say a word to guess exactly what he was thinking.

“The world of children is always innocent, where black is black and white is white. In terms of conduct, that means you always hope your enemies will face you head-on, honorably. But that’s just not possible.”

When such situations arise, children inevitably feel distressed. Those with weaker temperaments might even fall into despair and give up entirely.

Take, for example, those so-called hermits who retreat into the mountains, beards unshaven and faces lined with hardship. In terms of mindset, they’re still just children.

They can’t accept the evil in the world, let alone adapt to it, so they simply retreat and wrap themselves in some convenient excuse.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Xie Yu remained silent.

To defeat evildoers, doing the right thing often doesn’t work. He understood this all too well.

Just like during trials, when evidence is often insufficient, officials frequently resort to tricking the accused, which often yields unexpected results.

And now… he had finally taken matters into his own hands and overturned his opponent’s chessboard.

Because from the very beginning, his opponent had never played by the rules.

Watching the flicker in Xie Yu’s eyes, Xie Xian fell silent for a moment, giving his son space to think.

So, whether someone has truly grown up doesn’t depend on whether they can lie, nor does it mean they should sink to the same level as others and willingly degrade themselves. It means whether they can accept the dark side of the world and use it to achieve good ends.

When Xie Yu seemed to have finished thinking, Xie Xian tilted his wine cup and lightly clinked it with his son’s.

“This is called using their own methods against them. I had planned to teach you this in a few years, but since you’ve figured it out on your own, your father is very pleased!”

A crisp clink echoed as the wine in their cups gently swayed. Finally, Xie Yu spoke, “I thought you wanted me to grow into an upright official.”

Xie Xian was genuinely shocked.

“What on earth have I done to give you such a ridiculous idea!”

Xie Yu: “…”

You don’t have to look so horrified.

Careful or you’ll end up like Chen Qi crashing into a pillar!

Xie Xian said earnestly, “My son, you must never go down the wrong path!”

Upright officials often meet tragic ends.

Xie Yu: “…”

He finally couldn’t help rolling his eyes.

But thanks to Xie Xian’s antics, he did feel a little better.

After several rounds of wine, Xie Xian suddenly said, “Power is truly terrifying, isn’t it?”

Xie Yu paused mid-bite, and after a brief silence, softly replied, “Yes.”

Indeed.

The method or approach didn’t really matter.

What truly unsettled him was experiencing the terrifying nature of power for the first time.

It turned out that as long as he wanted to, he could turn black into white.

After leaving Prince Su’s mansion, Xie Yu had been thinking about how similar he was to the late emperor and Prince Su at that moment.

Had they also gradually sunk deeper and deeper into the temptation and sense of accomplishment with each such instance?

For a fleeting moment, Xie Yu couldn’t help wondering—if, after tasting the true flavor of power, he would fall into corruption and eventually become the very person he hated most.

To be honest, he didn’t hate power.

No one in the world truly does.

Since birth, Xie Yu had possessed a status and power that surpassed that of most people.

Of course, one cannot choose one’s birth, which is neither shameful nor particularly admirable.

Therefore, Xie Yu had always used his power carefully and cautiously.

Only this time had he acted impulsively.

And it was precisely this time that allowed him to witness the true face of power.

So sharp.

So… terrifying.

Xie Xian wasn’t surprised by this.

In fact, he was quite pleased.

Because not every person who enjoys power will reflect on it like this.

Most aristocratic sons take their innate power for granted, believing themselves superior by birth and treating others like grass, squandering it recklessly.

The late emperor was like that. Prince Su was like that. Tian Song in his later years was like that. And even the deceased Shen Xuan was like that.

Looking at his son, Xie Xian asked, “So… will you fear it?”

Xie Yu hesitated briefly, then shook his head.

“I will use it wisely.”

If not me, then someone else.

If that’s the case, it might as well be me.

Xie Xian smiled, raising his cup in a toast.

Xie Yu slightly lifted the corners of his mouth, raising his cup as well and clinking it with his father’s.

Princess Ningde didn’t like the smell of alcohol, so Xie Xian only sipped lightly. After several toasts, the wine in his cup had barely decreased.

“By the way, what about that little girl from the Yan family? Haven’t seen you two together lately,” he suddenly asked.

Then, the Marquis watched helplessly as his son’s expression gradually darkened…

The truth about Prince Su’s mansion had spread within a small circle—specifically, the emperor, the upper echelons of the Kaifeng Prefecture, and the two masters of the Princess’s mansion.

Xie Yu, returning to the Prefecture to report, would never forget the look on Tu Yao’s face.

The famous Confucian scholar was speechless for the first time in his life.

After a long silence, he finally said with a new tone, “Indeed, the son of Xie Xian.”

He had thought it was a case of a bad bamboo producing a good shoot, admiring how he had raised such a pure and kind son.

But who would have thought—who would have ever thought—that it was rotten to the core from the very beginning!

Indeed, father and son share some similarities.

Specifically, shamelessness.

The father could be shameless anytime, anywhere, while the son, though initially reserved, had recently shown great potential—truly a promising young man.

Already teased by his father once, Xie Yu remained calm as he delivered the emperor’s decree before turning to leave.

Meanwhile, after hearing Pei Rong’s account, Ma Bing sat in stunned silence for a while.

This was really done by Xie Yu!

Impossible!

Pei Rong didn’t know all the details, but he could guess roughly. Seeing that Ma Bing seemed skeptical, the old man grew anxious.

“I’m telling you, that kid isn’t good—he’s just pretending! Don’t let him fool you!”

Pei An added, “Indeed, I heard they found a corpse in Prince Su’s mansion. That’s very suspicious!”

Prince Su had certainly committed many murders, but such a cunning old fox would never bury a body openly in his own garden.

That would obviously leave evidence!

Madam Meng scolded, “You’re never satisfied! When he was doing his job properly, you criticized him for being stiff. Now that he’s finally loosened up a bit, you say he’s no good. I feel wronged on Xie Yu’s behalf just listening to you!”

Pei Rong and his son were scolded into silence, sulking as they ate their rice.

Their appetites had greatly increased, making the young servant Xiao Xia stare in disbelief.

Ma Bing was also somewhat distracted.

When the meal ended, Huo Mei pulled Ma Bing aside to talk.

“He went this far—clearly, he’s sincere.”

Ma Bing didn’t know how to respond.

“I’ve never doubted his sincerity.”

Huo Mei didn’t understand, “Then what are you hesitating about? Although it’s said that children should bear the sins of their fathers, the previous emperor was already three generations ago. If you were really concerned about that, you wouldn’t have given him a second glance in the first place.”

After all, among the nobility, entangled relationships are common. If you trace back a few generations, who doesn’t have some old grudges?

But marriages between descendants are also frequent.

Ma Bing pursed her lips, glanced around to ensure no one was listening, then hesitantly spoke a few words.

She had never confided in anyone before, so she was naturally awkward and incoherent.

But Huo Mei understood.

Huo Mei was stunned for a moment, then finally clapped her hands and exclaimed, “My goodness, how can I even say this!”

These two kids are like two gourds with their mouths sawed off and perfectly matched—no wind can escape.

One never speaks first, the other never asks, and neither is a mind-reader. Of course, they’d end up in a tangle!

Seeing her reaction, Ma Bing gave up and told her about yesterday’s incident.

“I feel I didn’t do anything wrong, but somehow I did. He won’t say anything either…”

“What a bastard!” Huo Mei jumped up furiously. “That old devil deserves to be chopped into a thousand pieces!”

She was cursing Prince Su.

Ma Bing watched helplessly as Huo Mei ranted nonstop without repeating herself, finally still fuming and vowing to take it out on Prince Su’s descendants.

They couldn’t touch Prince Su himself, but surely they could target his sons and daughters?

After venting, Huo Mei took Ma Bing’s hand and said earnestly, “You did nothing wrong, but you did make a mistake.”

Ma Bing: “…”

She was completely confused, “Second Sister-in-law, when did you start speaking in riddles?”

This made no sense at all!

Huo Mei tapped her forehead in frustration, “Let me put it this way—why didn’t you go to your father-in-law when you first came to the Kaifeng Prefecture?”

Ma Bing blurted out, “Of course, I was afraid of implicating him.”

“That’s exactly it,” Huo Mei patted her hand. “It’s that one word—fear.”

Ma Bing was taken aback. It felt like she was touching something, though not entirely understanding it. She widened her eyes, urging Huo Mei to continue.

“You know how powerful your father-in-law is, and you know the current emperor might not do anything to him, but you still feared and worried, right?”

Ma Bing nodded.

Exactly.

Even though she already knew the emperor was a good one, she still didn’t want Pei Rong dragged into it.

Because of fear.

“In the same way, Lord Xiao knows you’re capable, and he knows nothing might happen, but he still fears and worries.”

Whether you’re capable or not is your business, but whether someone worries about you is their business.

Even if you can take down an enemy general in a thousand soldiers, you’re still a person—someone who can get hurt, feel pain, and tire, making others worry.

Ma Bing began to understand, “But before, I’ve saved others too. Those people didn’t worry about me.”

Once, when she was staying in a small village, a mischievous child went up the mountain and provoked a wild beast. She helped save him, nearly losing her life.

But instead of thanking her, the child’s family scolded her for not being fast enough, letting their beloved grandson scrape his skin.

Huo Mei sighed, “That’s because they didn’t care about you.”

They didn’t love you, so no matter what happened, they wouldn’t feel heartache.

But Xie Yu cares about you, so he worries.

“When Lord Xiao decided to help you, were you worried about him?” Huo Mei suddenly asked.

Ma Bing was startled, then nodded.

“I was worried.”

At the time, when she learned that Xie Yu had gone to the palace to petition for a full investigation into the past, she was extremely worried—worried the emperor might take it out on him.

But thinking back now, did Xie Yu really need that worry?

Or rather, what real significance did her worry hold?

A buzzing sound filled Ma Bing’s head, as if something had exploded in her mind—like a fierce wind sweeping across the northwest plains or fireworks bursting in the Kaifeng night sky, stirring everything she understood and didn’t understand into a whirlwind, like a flurry of snowflakes gently falling.

It was meaningless.

But he needed it.

Only now did she clearly recall how gently and beautifully Xie Yu had smiled when she said she was worried.

Her blood rushed to her heart, then surged wildly through her body.

Ma Bing suddenly stood up, “I—I need to go back!”

She suddenly wanted to return.

Back to the Kaifeng Prefecture.

Huo Mei didn’t stop her, smiling as she watched her rush away.

Old Butler Su appeared out of nowhere, “Lord Xiao has been standing outside for an incense stick’s time.”

Huo Mei clicked her tongue, “Why didn’t you invite the honored guest in?”

Old Butler Su chuckled, “I saw Lord Xiao standing just fine.”

Meanwhile, as Ma Bing stepped out of Pei Mansion, she spotted Xie Yu across the street.

Xie Yu saw her too.

They stood across from each other, gazing silently for a long while.

Worried…

Yes, she was worried.

She worried he would be punished by the emperor or targeted by Prince Su’s henchmen…

Ma Bing repeated the word in her mind several times, feeling strangely lighter.

She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Then, she skipped down the steps and hurried across the street.

Xie Yu instinctively took a couple of steps forward, about to speak, but saw her stop.

The streetlights had just been lit, casting an orange glow over the pedestrians and distant noises, creating an almost surreal beauty.

Just as Xie Yu had done many times before, Ma Bing reached out her hand toward him.

“Come.”