Ye Zhao hurried toward home. If he didn't get back soon, he was going to run out of handkerchiefs.
He had specifically prepared two extra before leaving, but now even the last one in his hand was becoming unusable. The damp cloth was a total mess, so filthy that Ye Zhao hesitated for a long while, wondering if he should just throw it away.
*It’s just a few sneezes,* Ye Zhao comforted himself. *What’s the big deal? It’s better than being forced to wipe my nose on my sleeve...*
Thinking this way made him feel much better. He held his sleeve up to slightly cover his nose and mouth as he continued his trek home. He hadn't gone two steps when a handkerchief was suddenly extended toward him.
"Hmm?" Ye Zhao looked up at the young gentleman blocking his path, letting out an indistinct sound of confusion.
In the middle of the bustling street, a man dressed in black martial attire stood facing Ye Zhao. He was tall and lean, his physique clearly indicating he was a practitioner of martial arts. Beneath a pair of sharp, sword-like eyebrows that swept toward his temples were cold, light-brown eyes.
Ye Zhao’s gaze turned suspicious. "You aren't from Wei, are you, sir?"
This appearance... he had a somewhat exotic flair, and his gaze was intensely aggressive. Though it held a hint of curiosity, it remained full of wild, unyielding defiance—like a lone, proud wolf sizing up prey that had piqued its interest.
Seeing that Ye Zhao had guessed correctly, the man quirked an eyebrow. "And if I'm not?"
*It doesn't matter,* Ye Zhao thought. His public image was more important right now. He quickly snatched the handkerchief from the man’s hand and pressed it to his nose.
Only after letting out a sigh of relief did he find the spirit to reply, "My thanks for the handkerchief, sir."
With that, he moved to walk around the man and continue on his way.
However, the newcomer clearly didn't want to end the interaction so quickly. He reached out and gripped Ye Zhao’s forearm.
Ye Zhao looked at him sideways. "Is there something else?"
He guessed this man had appeared before him on purpose, but he didn't know the intent. Although the man didn't look particularly friendly, Ye Zhao didn't sense any actual malice from him.
The man’s gaze swept over several spots in the crowd before returning to Ye Zhao, who was barely half a step away. A flash of disdain crossed his eyes. "This handkerchief isn't mine. If you want to give thanks, it shouldn't be to me."
Ye Zhao was half-confused and half-dazed. "Oh..."
*It’s not yours, yet you gave it to me to blow my nose? What kind of intentions do you have...?*
Vile thoughts instantly flashed through Ye Zhao’s mind—perhaps this man was taking revenge on the handkerchief's owner, or maybe he was just playing a prank on him!
"Aren't you going to ask whose it is?"
Their eyes met. The man tilted his head slightly as he asked.
Ye Zhao spoke bluntly. "...Just say whatever it is you want to say so I can go home."
The man fell silent. Ye Zhao wondered if he had been too direct. But he truly didn't want to beat around the bush; whatever the man wanted, he should just spit it out and stop delaying his return home!
The awkward atmosphere lasted only a second before the man began, "This belongs to my adoptive father—"
His words were cut short by a cold voice. "Ye Zhao, what are you doing standing here?"
Ye Zhao whipped his head around toward the street corner. A gentleman dressed in white stood there with a frigid expression, looking like a figure carved from frost and snow. It was Pei Yunting.
Xie Yusong stood beside him.
The two seemed to be passing by by chance. Their gaze lingered on Ye Zhao for a second before shifting to the man beside him.
*This is...!*
Upon recognizing that face, their expressions changed slightly, and they slowly stepped forward.
Pei Yunting said to Ye Zhao, "Have you caught a cold? Then you should hurry home to rest."
Without waiting for Ye Zhao’s answer, he finished the sentence as if it were a foregone conclusion.
Ye Zhao looked at the strange individual who had released his arm, then glanced between Pei Yunting and Xie Yusong. The three of them shared a brief moment of eye contact, understanding each other's meaning. Ye Zhao nodded and replied, "I was just about to head back. In that case... I'll take my leave."
The other two nodded. Neither asked for the opinion of the third person present.
Ye Zhao felt perfectly at ease leaving the man to them and walked away with a light step.
"General Xiao has come from afar; our Kingdom of Wei has been remiss in welcoming you. However, to not even send word is quite a surprise. If I recall correctly, the envoys from Dongling are still on the road," Xie Yusong said with a perfectly measured smile.
In other words, he was asking: *Why have you appeared in the capital of Wei ahead of time without a sound? What are your intentions?*
The young man addressed as General Xiao curled his lips into a half-smile. Lowering his voice, he said, "I run fast. Is that not allowed?"
It sounded like a prank, a joke, and a provocation all at once, leaving the two men momentarily speechless.
Pei Yunting’s gaze turned icy. "General Xiao is indeed capable. Since you have arrived, please take up residence at the diplomatic hostel for now. Once I have informed His Majesty, we shall hold a banquet to welcome you."
Having said his piece, he turned and left without any pretense of politeness.
Since the man’s presence in Tianshangjing was now exposed, finding him again would be simple. In fact, they probably didn't even need to report to the palace; the Emperor likely already knew through his network of spies in the capital.
Pei Yunting didn't want to bother with superficial pleasantries, but Xie Yusong’s nature wouldn't allow him to simply walk away. He exchanged a few polite words before excusing himself.
On the street, the young man slowly walked to a tea stall and sat down. After a short while, a tall, sturdy man approached from the other side.
"General, how was it?"
The question was vague, but they both understood its meaning.
Xiao Hongfei poured himself a cup of tea with deliberate slowness. Recalling Ye Zhao’s expression and movements when he took the handkerchief, he said calmly, "Still uncertain."
"However..." He looked up, his gaze lingering on the distant street scene. He paused, then said slowly, "He seems quite different from the person my adoptive father described."
Based on the intelligence they had gathered over the past few months, he was indeed different from the person they had in mind.
The sturdy man said, "The reports say he doesn't seem to remember the past."
Xiao Hongfei knew that. But they remained skeptical of that claim.
Did he truly not remember, or was he simply not the same person? If he lacked those memories, on what basis did the people of Wei believe Ye Zhao was the one they were looking for?
As Xiao Hongfei slowly rotated his teacup, he fell into deep thought. His contact with Ye Zhao today had been too brief; he couldn't see much for now.
"There will be other opportunities."
With that, he set the teacup down heavily. He said no more, for the people sent to escort them to the diplomatic hostel had arrived.
Less than fifteen minutes after Xiao Hongfei had openly shown his face in Tianshangjing, the master of the Wei Imperial Palace was informed of his location.
At the highest point of the palace, the Emperor of Wei, dressed in dark blue casual robes, stood by the window. He gazed at the sky beyond the palace walls and sighed softly. "He came after all..."
Behind him, Eunuch Babao held his fly-whisk, standing with a slight bow. "What must come will come. Your Majesty need not worry."
The Emperor suddenly said, "He is not like his adoptive father. He is Xiao Hongfei."
His voice grew low, as if those last words carried a different weight, placing an unspoken pressure on the room.
The room fell silent.
The name Xiao Hongfei might not mean much on its own, but setting aside his reputation as a genius in Dongling, the thing that made the Emperor and his officials most wary was his other identity—the adoptive son of Xiao Mu.
To be precise, their suspicion and vigilance regarding Xiao Hongfei’s arrival were rooted in Xiao Mu. Without a doubt, he was here for Ye Zhao. But the question was, what did they want to do to him?
Dongling and Xize had both sent armies against Wei in the past, but... looking at the final outcome, the relationship between Wei and Dongling wasn't one of total hostility like it was with Xize. Instead, there was a strange, lingering ambiguity. This was because the commanders of the two opposing armies had somehow developed a unique bond through their battles, to the point where rumors of a "scandal" between them had spread to the outside world.
Indeed, those two were Tianshu and the Dongling War God, Xiao Mu.
"Sigh, do you think he’s here to demand an explanation on behalf of his adoptive father? After all, that man truly waited for Lord Tianshu until the day he died."
Seeing that the Emperor was in the mood to joke, Eunuch Babao sighed helplessly. "Your Majesty..."
"Maybe it’s true?"
The Emperor looked back, his smile mischievous and full of a strange interest. Though he had been weighing serious matters moments ago, he now seemed completely unconcerned.
Eunuch Babao replied without thinking, "Demand an explanation from whom? Young Master Ye? That would only happen if Young Master Ye was no longer just Young Master Ye."
Indeed...
"When do you think he will remember?" The Emperor turned back and sighed deeply, as if lamenting to himself. "Come back... come back..."
***
Ye Zhao, having met a strange but helpful person, returned home safely.
Setting down the handkerchief, he finally noticed a black eagle embroidered on it, poised as if to take flight. But that wasn't what caught his attention; it was something else.
He picked up the handkerchief and sniffed it lightly. He finally remembered where he had smelled this scent before. "Isn't this..."
*Isn't this what?*
The people watching from the shadows saw Ye Zhao’s expression shift from surprise to a look of pure delight. With joy written plainly across his face, he carefully tucked the handkerchief into his robes.
?
!
The observers were first puzzled, then struck by a sudden shock... *Could Ye Zhao have remembered something?!*
They had overheard the conversation between Ye Zhao and Xiao Hongfei, and from the way Pei Yunting and Xie Yusong addressed him, they had guessed the young man’s identity.
Surnamed Xiao... looking like someone from Dongling... it was only logical to guess who his "adoptive father" was.
Xiao Mu! The War God of Dongling, the man who had a history with Lord Tianshu!
They immediately sent someone back to report this while keeping a close eye on Ye Zhao.
Completely unaware of the wild conclusions others were drawing, Ye Zhao hummed a little tune as he found some water to scrub that "Breeze-brand scented handkerchief."
Scrub, scrub. This was a rare scent to find.
He had thought he would never have the chance to smell the scent of those tissues again in this life. To find it now on a handkerchief—Ye Zhao only hoped he wouldn't wash the scent away. Otherwise, he would lose something that suited his tastes so perfectly.
Consequently, a few days later, when Pei Shian and the others saw the item Ye Zhao was carrying with him, their minds were filled with all sorts of conflicting thoughts.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 萧鸿飞 | Xiao Hongfei | Adoptive son of Xiao Mu; a General from Dongling. |
| 萧木 | Xiao Mu | The "War God" of Dongling; had a famous rivalry/bond with Tianshu. |
| 清风 | Qingfeng / Breeze | A famous modern Chinese brand of tissues/paper products. |
| 羽林卫 | Yulin Guards | "Feather Forest" Guards; elite imperial guards. |
| 墨兰 | Molan / Dark Indigo | A dark blue or violet-blue color often used for scholarly or noble robes. |
| 裴世安 | Pei Shian | Likely a relative of Pei Yunting or a high-ranking official (first mention in this context). |
