Dusk in Beiyang.
Ji Baiyue was on his rounds. The camps stationed in this area were divided into two sides, with the people of Shangjin and Xiajin appearing quite incompatible, like fire and water. Wu Yu of Xiajin followed behind him as the two walked from the camp onto a deserted slope. Wu Yu plucked a wildflower and began making surreptitious gestures behind Ji Baiyue’s back.
"Are the arrangements in place?"
Ji Baiyue spoke suddenly. The wildflower in Wu Yu’s fingertips trembled, but he still firmly and unhesitatingly tucked it into the other man’s hair, nodding repeatedly.
"In place, of course they’re in place. Since you asked, I naturally made sure they were the most 'in place' of all arrangements."
Ji Baiyue did not notice what he was doing behind him. He simply stood on the slope, looking down at the camp. The tents of Shangjin were brightly lit; they had been deadlocked here for five or six days, and Chou Deyao did nothing but sneer and refuse to cooperate. It was a rare occasion for the Beiyang Army to assemble, yet it was for the sake of beating their own people—an unavoidable irony.
"But I’m truly afraid the Imperial Court will come to strike me," Wu Yu sidled up to Ji Baiyue, peeking at his expression. "My Xiajin only has sixty thousand men, and half of them are still farming. If it comes to a real fight, we truly can’t outmatch you."
Ji Baiyue turned his gaze, meeting Wu Yu’s shifty, rat-like eyes. Wu Yu, having been beaten by him before, immediately retreated a few steps and said warily, "I’m praising you, don't start a fight."
"The rabbits on the grasslands have more courage than you," Ji Baiyue said, crossing his arms. "For years, I’ve been puzzled as to why the Young Lord chose you to guard Xiajin."
"Naturally, it is because my strategic brilliance is unrivaled," Wu Yu said with a hint of bashfulness. "The Young Lord praised me as such more than once."
"No." The scar on Ji Baiyue’s brow twitched. "It is because you are utterly shameless."
Wu Yu clutched his heart in mock pain and added, "This time, Chou Deyao called me a beggar. If I can’t make him go begging in the future, I won't be able to swallow today’s grievance."
"A petty man is hard to deal with."
"A *true* petty man," Wu Yu said craftily. "Don't go comparing me to those hypocrites." He continued, "But even a petty man fears a ruthless one. Especially someone like the King of Hell—if he ever comes to Beiyang, I’ll have to take the long way around to avoid him."
"It’s rare for you to know fear." Ji Baiyue felt a movement in his hair. He reached up and pulled out a flower. His handsome face darkened instantly. "Wu! Yu!"
Wu Yu covered his head and dodged, shouting, "Easy now, easy! Of course I’m afraid! A small ghost shouldn't see the King of Hell, lest he lose his soul!"
"You’ve never even met him. What are you afraid of?"
"I haven't met him, but I’ve experienced his handiwork." Wu Yu pointed to the Shangjin tents below. "Isn't this a lesson? When the great gods fight, the small fry can't escape. Without the King of Hell’s tacit approval, how would I dare challenge Chou Deyao? Hard confrontations are the specialty of you and Meng Chen; my body is delicate, I can't tangle with brutes. Besides, the Crown Prince got a taste of sweetness first, so isn't the bitterness bound to follow? We all understand his motives for pushing the Northern Decree, but even if we understand, no one can do anything to him. Take the Prince, for instance—if the King of Hell hadn't protected him, forget the Court of State Ceremonies, he would have suffered back when he was with Prince Qin."
The man’s tongue was quick, and his words were unpleasant, yet every sentence was the truth.
Wu Yu added, "There’s only one thing I don't understand."
"Spit it out!"
"He has no connection to us, yet he’s helped us significantly several times. Does pie really just fall from the sky in this world? If the Prince returns successfully this time, he’ll have the foundation to challenge the Emperor." Wu Yu curled his lip. "The Beiyang Army is mighty, after all. Even if we can't win a fight, we can drown those local provincial soldiers with our spit."
Ji Baiyue tossed the wildflower aside. "Worrying about nonsense."
"You’re acting strange too." Wu Yu walked in circles around him with his hands behind his back. "This matter clearly has the word 'suspicious' written all over it, yet you act as if you can't see it. I suspect this King of Hell has no small relationship with us."
"To think your 'nonsense-worrying' mind is so sharp." Ji Baiyue said coolly, "It’s a pity I didn't have you do reconnaissance."
"You flatter me, you flatter me. This humble one merely has a slightly sensitive nose." Wu Yu shamelessly accepted the non-compliment and said, "I’ve never been one for the truth; I rely entirely on blind guessing. I’ll guess again: it’s true the King of Hell has no friendship with the Eldest Young Lord, but as for the Second Young Lord, it might be a different story."
That dog-like sense of smell was entirely devoted to analysis. Ji Baiyue both loathed Wu Yu’s loose tongue and cheap personality, yet he had to admire him. When Xin Jing said this man’s strategic brilliance was unrivaled, it wasn't without merit.
"Our Second Young Lord was no ordinary person." Wu Yu rubbed his chin lecherously. "Cultured enough to shake the Hanlin Academy, martial enough to suppress the Young Lord. I always felt that since he could handle the Eldest Young Lord, he was already extraordinary."
"Watch your mouth!" Ji Baiyue made a move to kick him, frowning. "What are you saying!"
"The truth." Wu Yu brushed off the dust and swayed his head. "What’s wrong with talking about it? Who dares say it’s not true? Back then, we kept it from His Highness, but did His Highness really know nothing? Those were his sons; he knew exactly what was in their hearts. Otherwise, why did the Second Young Lord run off to Shanyin? Was it because Beiyang couldn't teach him?"
"Wu Yu!" Ji Baiyue was truly angered now.
Wu Yu shut his mouth and dropped his playful grin. The two stood in the night, letting the wind blow past. The wild grass rustled in the breeze, and the camp below grew quiet. Ultimately, Wu Yu couldn't help himself. He spoke.
" I didn't mean to disparage them." He gave himself a hard slap. "It’s just my foul mouth." The thin-faced, lecherous scholar’s cheek immediately turned red. He said, "It’s bottled up in my heart, it’s bottled up in yours, and it’s bottled up in the hearts of the entire Beiyang Army. Except for ourselves, no one else can speak of it."
In those years, Xin Jing rarely came to the army, but every time he did, Xin Jing would make time to accompany him until he left. Those who couldn't see clearly called it deep brotherly affection; those who could see clearly didn't dare say a word. With the Prince of Yan above them, these trusted aides all kept their mouths shut under the pressure of potential punishment, their hearts aching for both the Prince of Yan and the Young Lords. Could this matter be resolved? Being a 'cut sleeve' meant nothing, but when it involved the same bloodline, anything they said meant nothing. If everyone had lived happily, then none of it would have mattered...
But they didn't.
Their guilt toward the Prince of Yan, their pain for the Young Lords, their promise to the Beiyang Army, their oaths to themselves.
All of it, gone.
It wasn't just Wu Yu; when Ji Baiyue was recovering Xin Jing’s remains, he would think about it night after night. If Xin Jing hadn't died, would Xin Jing have been able to stabilize the battle, instead of chasing death with such singular focus? But Xin Jing died at the very front. Xin Jing watched his brother and parents fall, while Prince Ping and the Emperor pulled at his Beiyang Army. All of Beiyang needed him, yet was invisibly whipping him. Perhaps, with his hands covered in blood, he also thought that if he had restrained himself and never crossed that ethical line, his father might have held on longer.
But all those 'ifs' had turned to dust before they could even begin.
"It won't end like this." Ji Baiyue’s voice was hoarse. He twitched the corner of his mouth at Wu Yu. "We still have the Prince."
Wu Yu gave a dry laugh. "The Prince? I hope so."
Before the somber atmosphere could dissipate, a tent flap in Shangjin was thrown open, and a commotion broke out.
"What’s wrong with that old dog now?" Wu Yu rubbed his face. "I was just getting ready to sleep, and he starts a fuss. He could at least wait until I’m asleep."
"Then he chose the perfect time." Ji Baiyue turned to walk down. "Everyone knows that once you’re asleep, even a ghost couldn't wake you."
"To say such a thing is an insult to my refined character." Wu Yu followed him down, rambling further.
Chou Deyao was a one-eyed man. He claimed he lost his eye to a lion’s claws while protecting the Prince of Yan, and for that reason, he often acted superior in front of Xin Jing and his brothers. The one he hated most was Xin Li, because that boy was the most devious and slippery, often tripping him up.
Tonight he was making a scene because he heard the Imperial Court had sent someone. The Crown Prince hadn't sent him word, but he guessed it likely wasn't one of their own. He had to make Xiajin bow their heads before the person arrived so he could have a way to save face.
Ji Baiyue pushed through the crowd and said, "Is Master Chou having trouble sleeping?"
"The weather is dry and the bed is hard; isn't it normal for Grandpa Chou to sleep poorly?" Wu Yu laughed from behind. "That’s a great house of Shangjin; they’ve always slept on soft white jade couches. Why would they care for this rotten place? Isn't that right, Grandpa Chou?"
"Don't think I don't know your mouth is coated in honey while your heart holds a blade," Chou Deyao sneered. "If you really want to call me Grandpa, then come over here and perform the three kowtows and nine prostrations. Say properly: 'Grandpa, I was wrong, little Wu Yu is just a foul-mouthed, worthless brat.'"
"Oh." Wu Yu laughed brightly. "Then I’ll give Grandpa Chou a kneel." As he spoke, he actually dropped to his knees with a *thud* in front of Chou Deyao. He tilted his head back, craned his neck, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Grandpa Wu is sorry! Little Chou Deyao is just a foul-mouthed, worthless piece of trash!"
The people of Xiajin immediately burst into laughter. Chou Deyao cursed and aimed a kick at him. Wu Yu nimbly rolled away and lay on the ground like a rogue. "What’s the matter? Afraid Grandpa didn't shout loud enough? Then I’ll do it again for you."
"You rascal! You rogue!"
"That I am." Wu Yu stood up and brushed off the dust, laughing. "I am indeed a rascal and a rogue. To live is to be true to oneself. I am a rogue and I am happy. What kind of thing is Master Chou? Why don't you tell me so I can hear it?"
A crowd from Xiajin gathered, shouting along, "What kind of thing is Master Chou! Master Chou is a fine thing indeed!"
Chou Deyao’s face turned ashen. Most of Shangjin consisted of great clans; they were naturally not as good at this kind of street brawling as the others.
"Kill this rogue!" Chou Deyao ground his teeth. "Put it on my head."
"Right here." Wu Yu pointed to his neck and laughed. "Hack away with all your might. If you don't kill me tonight, Grandpa will curse you to death tomorrow morning!" Seeing the blades swinging toward him, he didn't look back as he dove behind Ji Baiyue. "I curse his mother! He’s really hacking! I’m still the Guard of Xiajin!"
"You didn't look this cowardly when you were provoking him." Ji Baiyue stepped forward and barked, "We are all from Beiyang. Sheathe your blades!"
"Don't you put on an act!" Chou Deyao’s anger had gone to his head. He rushed out, grabbing Ji Baiyue’s collar and cursing, "You brat only know how to watch the show from the side. Who doesn't know you’re in league with this rogue?"
"Master Chou." Ji Baiyue remained as steady as a mountain. "We are all brothers."
"I was following His Highness when you lot were still in diapers! Brothers, my ass!" Chou Deyao roared. "Xiajin smashed my shops, and you won't give me an explanation? You’re the one holding Lijin; that’s His Highness’s reputation. Don't you go confusing black and white and ruin His Highness’s name!"
"I naturally cannot compare to His Highness." Ji Baiyue pried the man’s hand away and straightened his collar. "Sheathe your blades before you speak!"
A young brat from some family in Shangjin gave a loud huff and shouted, "Don't be so shameless! Protecting a rogue like this, maybe you’re involved with him too! Back then, didn't Xin Jing also—"
This time, not only did Ji Baiyue and Wu Yu’s faces turn cold, but even Chou Deyao’s eyes turned frigid. Before the three of them could act, the night wind suddenly sharpened. An arrow shot forth, piercing straight through the man’s hair crown and pinning it to the tent. Had it been a fraction lower, it would have taken his head without hesitation.
The youth gasped, his legs turning to jelly. He let out a terrified cry, his hair falling in disarray as he collapsed to the ground.
The sound of hoofbeats approached through the night.
A gentle-looking youth sat atop a horse, pulling the reins before the crowd. The bowstring in his hand was still vibrating. His expression was grim, his eyes fixed solely on the panicked youth.
Meng Chen galloped up from behind. Reaching the scene, he flipped off his horse and delivered a kick straight to the youth’s chest, cursing furiously, "What a foul tongue!" He then turned and said in a low, heavy voice, "The Prince has just returned. What are you doing? What do you think you’re doing!"
Ji Baiyue felt a secret sense of relief.
He had finally arrived.
***
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