Rumors of the war began to flood the streets. Some said General Chu had been wounded; others claimed our army had fallen into an ambush with heavy casualties; still others insisted the General had wiped out tens of thousands of the Great Chu’s troops.
The official imperial bulletins, naturally, were filled with nothing but reports of victory. Yet everyone knew this war was far more complicated than a few celebratory notices suggested.
Ming Shao’s letters arrived less and less frequently. In them, he spoke only of the lighter side of military life: how he had won an arm-wrestling match against his comrades and didn’t have to wash his own clothes for a month, or how a black windstorm had swept across the wilderness at midnight, driving a wild leopard into their tent and giving everyone a fright. His most recent letter contained nothing but a bundle of parched grass and two scrawled words: *All well.*
But was it truly well?
The bundle of grass was what the locals called "Fire Grass," the most common weed found in the wilds outside Qizhou City. Its vitality was incredibly tenacious. I wondered if Ming Shao had sent it to steel his own resolve or to comfort me.
The Fire Grass emitted a faint, biting scent unique to the wilderness. I could not imagine what the land where it grew looked like—was it like the loess plateaus of Shaanxi, or more like the Tibetan Highlands? Memories of that other world were gradually fracturing into irregular shards in my mind, beginning to blur.
I sighed softly, my fingers tracing the sharp, dry prickles before I carefully tucked it back into the envelope. Ming Shao had left in late autumn; now, the New Year was fast approaching.
During the day, I filled every second with various tasks. But at night, longing transformed into a small beast, gnawing at my heart inch by inch.
There was no escape.
I began to suffer from chronic insomnia, thinking of the flying spirit in his eyes during the horse races on the grasslands, the round, cold moon above us on the night of our parting, the warmth of his palm, and the sense of peace I felt in his embrace.
My heart grew desolate, bit by bit.
Suddenly, I understood: lovesickness truly makes one grow old.
When it was time for the shift change, Chen Zhan and I walked out of the prison one after the other. I glanced at him; his expression was equally grim.
Another prisoner had died today. Their bodies were weak from poor rations, and there wasn't enough medicine to treat them when they fell ill. We had mentioned this to Luo Jin, but his hands were tied. With the war intensifying, even the soldiers at the front weren't guaranteed enough medical supplies. Who cared about those who had committed crimes?
"You go on back," Chen Zhan said gloomily. "I’m going to check the back one more time."
By "the back," he meant the area where the high-security prisoners were kept. These were serious offenders under strict imperial watch, so their treatment was naturally even worse. Though I didn't like Chen Zhan coddling me, I truly had no desire to witness such miserable scenes.
As soon as the war began, the Emperor had issued a decree of special amnesty. The stone quarries in Mengcheng and Fanyang were closed. Prisoners with lighter sentences were drafted into the army, but those guilty of capital crimes received no such mercy. They could only wait for death in these sunless cells. Their plight was easy to imagine.
I sighed and walked slowly down the steps.
Someone called out to me from across the street. "Master Xi?"
The voice was unfamiliar. I looked up to see a carriage that looked somewhat familiar, with a young eunuch standing beside it. Seeing me, the boy ran over and performed a quick, practiced bow. "The Princess has sent me to escort you to the palace."
"Qing Rong?" I asked, surprised. "What’s happened to her?"
The eunuch kept his head bowed. "This servant does not know."
The last time I had seen her was before Ming Shao went to war; it had indeed been a while. I nodded and followed him into the carriage.
Qing Rong was listlessly kicking a shuttlecock with a few palace maids in the courtyard. When she saw me enter, she ran over from a distance. she looked thinner, making her eyes appear startlingly large.
"Is there no food to eat?" I pinched her cheek. "How did you get so thin?"
Qing Rong slapped my hand away and gave me an annoyed look. "I called you here for serious business. Why are you acting so undignified?"
I sighed. "Fine, speak. What 'serious business' could you possibly have?"
Qing Rong dismissed the maids and pulled me into her bedchamber, carefully closing the door before asking, "Do you know about Han Ying?"
I blinked. "Han Ying? Isn't she the sister of Crown Princess Han Xue?"
Qing Rong sat down beside me, looking mysterious. "The Crown Princess went to see the Empress Mother last night. She said her sister is marrying far away in Binzhou, and with the war going on, she’s afraid the journey won't be safe. She wants to request that *you* escort her."
I was stunned again. Why me, out of the blue? And why would the Crown Princess personally petition the Empress? I had almost no dealings with that woman. I asked Qing Rong, "What did Her Majesty say?"
Qing Rong shook her head. "The Empress Mother said you belong to the court, so it isn't convenient for her to interfere. The Inner Palace cannot meddle in government affairs." She frowned. "Her sister is marrying Prince Xian to be his consort; they’ll have plenty of people for an escort. Why do you think she specifically picked you? Is she up to no good?"
I had no grudge against her; what scheme could she possibly have against me? Then a thought struck me—could this be related to Wu Xiu? Because I was wary of Crown Prince Ming De, I hadn't visited Wu Xiu in quite some time. The thought that it might involve her made me restless. "Have you seen my second sister lately? How is she?"
Qing Rong tilted her head, thinking. "I saw her when I went to pay respects to the Empress Mother the day before yesterday. She didn't look very well."
I pulled her up by the hand. "Accompany me to the Eastern Palace to see her."
Qing Rong readily agreed.
To be honest, the thought of going to the Eastern Palace and potentially running into the Crown Prince made me feel a bit apprehensive. That man always threw unexpected problems at me at the most inconvenient times. This feeling of being constantly on the defensive was... frustrating. My instinct was to stay far away. The last time I had seen Wu Xiu was when the Prince had gifted me the jade pendant—it had been over two months.
As soon as we entered the rear garden of the Eastern Palace, I discovered a universal truth: whatever you fear most is exactly what will happen.
Crown Prince Ming De was strolling across a winding bridge with the Seventh Prince, Ming Yi. Both looked solemn, seemingly discussing something important. When they saw us enter, both of them looked surprised.
Qing Rong scurried over, and I quickly and dutifully knelt by the roadside to pay my respects. "Your servant Xi Xia greets the Crown Prince. Long live Your Highness."
In that characteristic voice of his, devoid of any warmth, he said flatly, "Rise."
I hurried to greet the other one. "Your servant Xi Xia greets the Seventh Lord."
Ming Yi laughed. "Rise. This is the first time I’ve seen you since you put on those black robes. You look quite formidable."
Though I had only met this Seventh Lord two or three times, his presence made me feel much more at ease. Perhaps it was because, among the royal siblings, his personality most resembled Ming Rui’s.
Ming Yi looked at the colorful silk embroidery on my collar and praised, "Promoted to the sixth rank? Not bad at all."
I kept my head down and eyes averted, offering a few humble words. I felt that every time Ming De’s gaze swept over me, my breath hitched involuntarily. Yet he said nothing.
"Visiting your sister?" Ming Yi was the one who broke the tension. Perhaps sensing my awkwardness, he said mercifully, "Go on in."
I quickly bowed to both of them. It wasn't until they had walked far away that I let out a long breath.
Qing Rong looked at me thoughtfully. "You seem very afraid of him."
I sighed. When you're living under someone else's roof, how can you not be afraid?
Wu Xiu was reclining languidly on a couch, watching her maids do needlework. When she saw us enter, she froze for a moment before hurriedly sitting up. "When did you arrive? Why..."
Qing Rong said with a grin, "I brought her in."
The maids cleared the table and withdrew, and Wu Xiu pulled us down to sit. She, too, had grown thinner, and her complexion was poor.
"Is there no food in the Imperial Palace?" I asked. "Qing Rong is thin, and you’re thin. It would be better to bring you home and let Auntie Fu nurse you back to health."
Wu Xiu said helplessly, "You’re talking nonsense again. How could it be so easy to go back?" She sighed, her brow furrowing slightly.
I pulled her wrist onto my lap to check her pulse. From the pulse reading, her body was far weaker than it had been before she entered the palace. I frowned. Given her current status, she shouldn't be malnourished. But the pulse... it felt different...
As I was concentrating on the pulse, she said, "The day before yesterday, Consort Han also asked an Imperial Physician to check my pulse. He said it was nothing serious and prescribed two doses of medicine to circulate the blood and vital energy..."
My hand jerked. "Who? Who checked your pulse?"
Seeing my expression, Wu Xiu was startled. She stammered, "Physician Li from the Imperial Academy of Medicine..."
A surge of fury instantly rushed to my heart. I slammed my fist onto the round table. "I’ll kill that Physician Li!"
The tabletop let out a sharp crack, and the plates and cups were jolted onto the floor. Wu Xiu and Qing Rong were both terrified by this sudden outburst of rage. They looked at each other, speechless. The maids outside heard the commotion and stepped in tentatively to clean up, but Wu Xiu waved them away.
"Did you take the medicine he prescribed?" I suddenly realized the most important question. I grabbed Wu Xiu’s hand, my heart twisting in anxiety. "Tell me, quickly!"
Wu Xiu was stunned by my intensity and simply shook her head, unable to say a word.
I breathed a small sigh of relief. Then my eyes fell on a plate of bright red fruit on the side table. I grabbed the plate, pushed open the window, and hurled it out.
"Who sent this?" I demanded of Ying Xia. This maid had served Wu Xiu since childhood and had likely never seen me this angry; she was trembling with fear. Wu Xiu stopped me, saying, "Consort Han just sent someone to deliver those."
Consort Han. Consort Han. I suddenly understood why she wanted me to escort her sister.
"Wu Chao, what is wrong with you? Why are you so angry?" Qing Rong regained her senses, looking completely baffled.
I was still gripping Ying Xia’s arm, staring at her as I spoke each word with deliberate emphasis: "From today on, you must personally prepare every bite of food my sister eats. If you don't know exactly what something is, you must not give it to her. It doesn't matter who sent it—do you understand?"
Ying Xia nodded frantically.
Wu Xiu came up anxiously to pull at me. "Chao'er, you..."
I pulled her into my arms. My anger had unconsciously turned into fear. I had promised to protect her, but how could I do it? Could I really do it?
"What exactly..." She tried to struggle out of my embrace. I held her firm and sighed. "You silly girl, you’re going to be a mother."
Wu Xiu was utterly stunned.
Things having reached this point, no matter how reluctant I was, I had to see the Crown Prince.
The study was filled with the faint, fresh scent of green tea. From my kneeling position, I could only see the few meters of oiled brick floor around me. The dark, polished surface was cold and smooth, reflecting the dim shadows of the hall’s curtains and cloud-carved pillars. In the silence, every inch of space seemed filled with invisible pressure.
I don't know how long passed—my fingers braced against the floor were turning white—before I heard Ming De’s cold voice from behind the desk. "You want to take the Side Consort back to her family home? Whatever made you think of such a request?"
I said, "The Side Consort is physically weak. I fear..."
A pair of light-colored imperial boots appeared in my field of vision. These feet slowly circled me twice before he spoke. "Xi Xia, are you implying that your sister is not being treated well in my palace?"
I said, "A grand physician of the Imperial Academy could not even detect a pregnancy pulse, and even prescribed dangerous drugs. If..."
I didn't finish. Whether Wu Xiu was living well in the palace was something this man surely knew better than I. He had grown up in this environment; he naturally understood my subtext.
Ming De paced the hall in silence. I didn't dare look up, seeing only his feet as they appeared in my sight and then moved behind me. When he was silent, the sense of oppression felt particularly intense.
"I understand your meaning," he said slowly. "However, returning to her family home is out of the question. I know what I am doing. You... rest easy."
Rest easy? How could I rest easy? If Wu Xiu had actually taken the medicine Physician Li prescribed, I wouldn't even know if she’d be alive or dead right now. Every time I thought of it, my heart shuddered.
"Xi Xia," his feet appeared before me on the oiled bricks again, but his tone was unexpectedly gentle. "This is also my first child. Do you think I wouldn't care?"
My heart sank. To him, was the only thing that mattered the offspring? I instinctively looked up. He was leaning down to look at me, his deep, dark eyes revealing nothing.
A mother’s status rises with her child—was I now forced to pin my hopes on this most ancient rule of the royal family? But even if the child was born safely, would it truly be over? What about after that?
Meeting my gaze, a faint, inscrutable smile touched Ming De’s lips. "I have my own arrangements."
I took Zeng Ping to the outskirts to gather a large amount of Mountain Fish Grass, which we boiled in large iron vats. We distributed the water to all the prison cells. While this herbal water couldn't cure diseases, spraying it on the floors and walls acted as a disinfectant. With medicine so scarce, this was all we could do for now.
As I emerged from the dungeon for the nth time, sleeves rolled up and wooden bucket in hand, I saw two or three people in plain clothes standing by the iron vat where Zeng Ping was boiling the herbs. One of them, a small figure, appeared to be a young boy.
Just as I was guessing their identities, the small figure turned toward me. It was indeed a young boy, his light wheat-colored skin looking as though it had soaked up the sun, radiating a familiar glow. His dark, obsidian eyes held three parts pride and three parts mischievous rebellion as he stared at me without blinking.
He looked a year or two younger than Min Yan, but he was slightly taller. I had never met this exquisitely featured child, yet for some reason, he looked familiar. Could it be...
The boy looked me up and down, then curled his lip disdainfully. "So, you’re Xi Xia?"
I handed the bucket to Zeng Ping and looked the boy up and down in return. "Indeed, I am Xi Xia. This is the Ministry of Justice, no place for loiterers. You should leave."
Zeng Ping used a ladle to pour the herbal water into the bucket. I picked it up to leave, but the boy blocked my path. He tilted his beautiful face up and asked crossly, "Why aren't you asking who I am?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "Fine, tell me. Who are you?"
The boy curled his lip again. "You can't even guess that? You’re not as smart as my brother said."
I set down the bucket and leaned over to study his features. There really was a trace of Ming Rui in him. The boy grew a bit embarrassed under my scrutiny; he rolled his eyes and muttered, "Stupid woman."
This brat really was Ming Hua?
I held out a palm to him. "Hand it over."
Ming Hua reached into his robe, but stopped halfway as he realized something. He asked blankly, "How did you know my brother had a letter for you?"
I mimicked his eye-roll. "Stupid kid."
Ming Hua was stunned by my retort. In a fit of pique, he tried to stuff the letter back in, but I snatched it away. I opened it to find Ming Rui’s handwriting. It was several thick pages, almost entirely about this younger brother’s various living habits. It seemed he really intended for me to be a nanny. It was difficult to read the letter because I had to keep dodging the boy’s short sword. He had likely learned a few moves from the guards and was now showing off. Perhaps he was indignant about being entrusted by his brother to a woman—and having his allowance controlled by her—so he was determined to give me a "show of strength."
I finished the letter and realized his antics had to stop. I reached out, grabbed his belt, and hoisted him up so we were eye-to-eye. Ming Hua’s face instantly turned beet red, and he shouted hoarsely, "You woman! Put me down!"
He tried to poke at me with his short sword again. I disarmed him and tapped his head twice with the hilt. "Is this how your brother told you to speak to me?"
Ming Hua glanced at the jailers watching the spectacle from under the eaves, his face contorted with humiliated rage. It seemed Ming Rui was right; he was indeed a spoiled child. I used the sword hilt to tilt his chin up, forcing him to look me in the eye, and said seriously, "Listen well, little Prince. If you’re only here to pick a fight and throw your weight around, then don't bother coming back. I promised your brother I’d look after you, and I keep my word. If you need anything in the future, send a servant to tell me. You don't need to come here yourself just to be miserable."
With that, I set him down and picked up my bucket to continue disinfecting the cells. When I came out again, Ming Hua was still standing stubbornly in the courtyard, but his expression was no longer so arrogant. He looked a bit lost, as if he didn't know how to back down gracefully. I ignored him and went back to ladling water.
By the time I finished, the sky had begun to dim. Ming Hua’s figure was still there. However, his stubborn face had been replaced by a very aggrieved expression, like an abandoned kitten that had retracted its sharp claws.
As I walked past him, he looked at me expectantly and let out a weak, "Hey!"
I stopped but deliberately didn't turn around. "What 'hey'? If you really don't know what to call me, call me Master Xi."
There was silence for a long moment, then a lowered voice muttered petulantly, "So much trouble."
I clapped my hands. "The little Prince may do as he pleases."
Just as I started to walk away, Ming Hua said very reluctantly, "Fine, fine. Suppose I was wrong."
I turned back, feeling a bit amused by this awkward child. He pouted and shuffled over to me, then naturally took my hand, giving it two pathetic tugs. He looked up at me and said, "I’m hungry."
Such a beautiful child was truly hard to be cruel to. I sighed. "When did you arrive in the capital?"
He said pitifully, "Just now."
I blinked, looking at his large, watery eyes, and my heart suddenly softened. I looked at the travel-worn attendants behind him. "You only brought these few people?"
Ming Hua shook his head. "The others took the carriages to the official guesthouse."
I felt a sense of relief. Ming Hua looked up at me, tightening his grip on my hand. "Let’s go. Treat me to dinner."
When I hoisted him onto my big black horse, Ming Hua’s entire face lit up instantly. "What a beautiful horse! Even better than Brother said!"
"Your brother... is he well?" I hadn't intended to ask a child such a question—what would he know of 'well' or 'not well'? But I couldn't help myself.
Ming Hua immediately shook his head and leaned back, lolling lazily against me. "When I left, I brought the city guards of Binzhou. They’ll take back that woman the Emperor assigned to him." At this point, he felt me stiffen and shouted aggrievedly, "I’m exhausted! Just let me lean on you for a bit!"
Hearing that, my heart softened again. I had no choice but to let him lounge in my arms. I suddenly remembered that Min Yan was older than him and still occasionally ran to his mother to act spoiled. If Ming Hua had stayed in Binzhou, he would likely be the same. Thinking of it this way, his situation seemed much more pitiful than Min Yan’s.
When the brat saw Fu Yan Tower, he pointed grandly. "Treat me here."
I rolled my eyes. "The food here is very expensive."
Ming Hua curled his lip, looking aggrieved again. "But this is my first time in the capital. You have to pick a decent place to welcome me. Besides, only when I’m full will I remember which bag your gift from Brother is in..." He spoke while his large eyes darted around mischievously.
I really couldn't do anything with him.
I took him into Fu Yan Tower and ordered the same private room where I had first met Ming Shao and Ming Rui. When Ming Hua heard his brother had once drunk wine in this very room, his face filled with curiosity.
However, while the place remained, the people had changed. Not a single trace of that day’s scene remained.
***
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