Chapter 342: Chapter 332: Distant Relations
After Fang Chuning was fully dressed, he walked around the screen and came out. Xie Jue was sitting by the warm couch, the window slightly opened, allowing the morning light to fall upon the bookshelf near the couch and cast a faint glow onto his face. His usually distant and cold features appeared lively and warm amidst the soft light. Beside the warm couch was a small stove with a pot of water boiling on it. At the center of the couch was a tea set, reminiscent of the arrangements in their tent back in Ningzhou.
Back in the Ningzhou Military Camp, he and Xie Jue shared a tent. Their tent, larger than those of ordinary soldiers, was laid over with a layer of animal hide carpet—an arrangement reflecting Xie Jue’s penchant for cleanliness. Beyond the sleeping bed, there was also a warm resting couch near the bookshelf, where the two would often pass the time brewing tea or playing chess.
Fang Chuning himself was not one to feign refinement, and this tea set was rarely used in Zhongzhou. Before his arrival, Xie Jue had already rinsed it with hot water; otherwise, the teacups would have gathered dust.
It was as though his most private thoughts had been exposed—his ears flushed bright red as Fang Chuning endured the sense of embarrassment and walked over, feigning composure as he asked, "Ting Feng, how are you here in Zhongzhou?"
Xie Jue had thrown on garments rather casually, but they happened to be in the color and style he favored. Fang Chuning’s naturally striking and handsome demeanor was captivating, an aesthetic pleasing to everyone—be it a woman’s charm or a man’s allure.
When Xie Jue entered the mansion, Fang Chuning’s Deputy General casually mentioned that Fang Chuning had spent last evening carousing with several generals until they couldn’t leave without being completely drunk. From just a few exchanges of words, anyone could infer the situation Fang Chuning faced in Zhongzhou. Standing by the bed, Xie Jue intended to wake him up, but he hadn’t anticipated Fang Chuning’s disheveled, drunken sleep posture to be so embarrassing—lying there in nothing but undershorts despite the biting cold, utterly disregarding the threat of catching a chill. The scars across his chest stood starkly visible, many of which Xie Jue had tended to himself. He remained frozen by the bedside, taking in this vivid, intimate scene for the time it took incense to burn.
When the two of them had shared a bed in the past, they had strictly adhered to decorum, always dressed in long-sleeve sleep robes. Xie Jue, often needing to patrol the camp, was accustomed to sleeping later and rising earlier than Fang Chuning. Rarely had he seen such an... awkward side of him.
"I’ve come to Zhongzhou to procure grain and, while at it, to visit you." Xie Jue brushed away the tea froth and poured out a cup of clear tea. Fang Chuning, overcoming his earlier sense of shame, sat opposite him. Once his embarrassment faded, his gaze lingered on Xie Jue with a hunger akin to that of a covetous tycoon eyeing a mountain of gold. After the upheaval in the Capital City, they hadn’t had a chance to properly exchange even a fleeting word before being torn apart.
Though he was stationed in Zhongzhou, Fang Chuning, lacking an imperial edict, couldn’t leave, rendering any meeting between them near impossible.
Ting Feng had lost weight!
His cheeks appeared sharper and thinner now. Fang Chuning’s brow furrowed slightly, his chest tightening with an almost painful ache. He wanted to ask him how he was faring, yet hesitated at the thought of stating the obvious. Driven by confusion in his heart, Fang Chuning was willing to risk imperial reprimand and accusations of the Marquis Mansion’s private armies—to stir the Ningzhou troops—for someone like Ting Feng, who valued family above all else.
Losing his entire clan overnight, left only with Xie Xun—how could Ting Feng possibly be doing well? And Xie Xun wasn’t the comforting type of younger brother who might know what to say; he likely didn’t know how to console him at all. Ting Feng had no choice but to bear the pain of family loss alone during this period, with no one to ease his burden. Whenever Fang Chuning stood atop the city walls gazing toward Ningzhou, he couldn’t help but feel his heart ache.
He wanted to embrace Ting Feng. Since the tragedy had struck, he hadn’t had the chance to wrap his arms around Ting Feng even once.
But time had changed so much, and bringing it up now would only reopen wounds for Ting Feng.
"Is Ningzhou short on grain?" Fang Chuning asked after taking a moment. Zhongzhou’s river-based transport had been cut off for the Twelve Provinces. Based on Ningzhou Iron Cavalry’s stored grain alongside the plentiful harvest from their military farms due to favorable weather and no natural disasters this year, they should be able to hold out another three months at least. Considering this factor, Ningzhou’s Iron Cavalry ought to be able to face the winter without issue.
If Xie Jue had come to Zhongzhou for grain, it wasn’t likely intended for Ningzhou’s Iron Cavalry.
Xie Jue gave Fang Chuning a deep, penetrating look. With just a single glance, he could discern what Fang Chuning was thinking—but Fang Chuning could also intuit Xie Jue’s thoughts. Concern clouded judgment; it wasn’t until the words escaped Fang Chuning that he realized how foolish a question it was.
"Jiangnan’s autumn harvest has failed due to its rainy season. Grain cannot be transported to the Twelve Provinces, and Zhongzhou’s river network is severed. The court intends to withhold grain from the Twelve Provinces while ensuring the populace survives the winter," Xie Jue stated flatly.
Fang Chuning laughed bitterly, without bothering to hide his thoughts. "Since when has a matter as trivial as this warranted your personal involvement?"
He sipped the tea that Xie Jue had poured—it was bitter. With his downcast gaze, the bitterness concealed all inquiry. Today was different from yesterday; he could no longer afford to question why Ting Feng had come to Zhongzhou.
"Zhixu is trapped in Jiaozhou. If I don’t concern myself with this, who else will?" Xie Jue countered. He didn’t fault Fang Chuning for his remark. "Why not go to Jiangnan? Why come to Zhongzhou? It’s not as though you’re acquainted with Zhongzhou’s officialdom."
"My father is in Jiangnan, so I needn’t go there." Fang Chuning’s tone remained indifferent. "I am a military general who cannot disobey the emperor’s orders. His orders bid me to fortify Zhongzhou, and so I fortify Zhongzhou."
He didn’t divulge the truth to Xie Jue—he couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud. His father and the Marquis had once been as close as brothers, mutually dependent and protective. But with their views diverging, sentiments too had shifted. How could he speak of this?
Xie Jue watched Fang Chuning’s features, his chest tightening. He and Fang Chuning had never engaged in such strained, awkward dialogue before. Their understanding of each other was profound; they were confidants who knew one another inside and out. Yet now, despite being in such close proximity, neither could voice their innermost thoughts.
Silence enveloped the two as they drank tea. The earlier embarrassment had long dissipated, replaced by another form of painful awkwardness.
"Ting Feng, Zhongzhou cannot procure grain either," Fang Chuning admitted. He knew, given his status and role, he shouldn’t be candid with Xie Jue about such matters—yet he was unbothered by propriety. "General Chen Ming severed river transport. Since then, I’ve been probing for information. Last night, I hosted several generals for precisely this reason. Zhongzhou’s major granaries have tightened their operations, stockpiling grain on a large scale. Merchant grain reserves are scant, with nearly all grain now under State Mansion control. Unless merchants had previously hoarded supply with heavy investments, grain cannot be acquired."
"The court is determined to withhold winter provisions from the Twelve Provinces." Xie Jue scowled. What he had suspected proved true: Zhongzhou’s grain was under unified control by the State Mansion, and other cities throughout Zhongzhou were likely in the same predicament.
The court’s objective was clear. It sought to force the Twelve Provinces into submission by leveraging starvation. If they allied with Ningzhou, grain would be cut off, giving rise to famine and death across the land come winter. The Ningzhou Iron Cavalry would be unable to protect the Twelve Provinces. Only the court could provide salvation.
Grain was the lifeblood of the populace. Though the Twelve Provinces’ livelihood had yet to recover, with three years and support from Xie Jue and Fengyu, the Twelve Provinces could achieve self-sufficiency, eliminating reliance on grain shipments from the South. Active efforts were already underway to cultivate previously unused farmland. But as things stood, the Twelve Provinces faced grave hardship this winter—and future aspirations would become mere empty promises.
"Indeed!" Fang Chuning agreed, his tone tinged with anger. "Both the court and Ningzhou have set their sights on the Twelve Provinces. Since military aggression isn’t feasible, they resort to cutting off grain and trade, forcing the Twelve Provinces to confront reality. With winter approaching, it’s an opportune moment—Lin Helin stationed in Jiaozhou likely sees this clearly and intends to negotiate with you."
"Do you think I should negotiate with my cousin?" Xie Jue asked placidly.
Fang Chuning chuckled lightly. "If you wanted to negotiate, you wouldn’t have come to Zhongzhou. But Ting Feng, neither Zhongzhou nor Jiangnan can secure grain. What will you do?"