Unarmored | Chapter 4 | The Shadow of the Marquis | Novela.app

Chapter 4 - The Shadow of the Marquis Xiao Zhun, the Marquis of Qinghuai, was a man of legendary proportions. He had been enfeoffed as a Marquis at the tender age of seventeen, established his own independent household at eighteen, and by twenty, he was appointed the Great General of Agile Cavalry, commanding the three hundred thousand soldiers of the Subei Camp. Since the age of nineteen, the annals of the Tiancheng Empire recorded not a single defeat under his banner. Such a man was a rarity in the history of the dynasty, yet for reasons unknown, he remained unmarried long past the usual age. A general’s life was one of constant campaigning; he would be away for months or even years at a time. Que City was rarely his permanent residence, and as a result, very few women in the capital had ever laid eyes on him. This lack of visibility fueled rampant speculation among the common folk. Some whispered that the Marquis of Qinghuai must possess a face so unappealing that no noble family was willing to offer their daughter in marriage. However, the few who had actually seen him argued vehemently to the contrary. They claimed his face was as refined as carved jade—a true beauty among men. Consequently, the rumors shifted toward a more scandalous nature: the Marquis had spent his youth on the bloody sands of the battlefield. During the famous Battle of Qingping Ferry, he was said to have been riddled with arrows. Was it possible, the gossips wondered, that one of those arrows had struck a place it truly shouldn't have? "If that’s the case, wouldn't the Xiao family line end with him?" A diner, who had been listening with rapt attention, spat out a melon seed shell and couldn't help but voice his doubt. The storyteller, his throat parched from the long narration, took the opportunity to drain a cup of wine before replying. "You hit the nail on the head. Although there is a child in the Marquis’s manor now, she’s just a girl. And word is, she was merely a stray he picked up from the side of the road." At the other end of the table, another man, clearly intoxicated, spoke with a thick, stumbling tongue. "If you ask me, you can't put all the blame on the Marquis. It’s the Xiao family’s fate that’s cursed. If Prince Shuo were still alive, how could the Xiao family have come to this..." The man with the melon seeds lunged across the table, clapping a hand over the drunkard’s mouth. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. He glanced around nervously; fortunately, it was the peak of the dinner rush. The tavern was a cacophony of voices and clattering dishes, and no one seemed to have noticed the dangerous words uttered in their corner. The storyteller also fell silent, shrinking into his collar. "Wine leads to trouble, wine leads to trouble..." he muttered, shuffling toward the window. He pushed it open, letting the biting night air rush in to disperse the heavy scent of alcohol. The warm glow of the lanterns spilled out from the small wooden window into the darkness, illuminating a patch of the wall and a pair of furry, tufted ears. Those ears twitched with a hint of impatience. In the shadows, a woman’s low voice finally drifted through the air. "Let’s go, Jixiang." *** Despite occupying one of the most prestigious locations in Que City, the Manor of the Marquis of Qinghuai was exceptionally desolate at night. Behind the high walls of the sprawling estate, not a single sound of revelry or human activity could be heard. Uncle Chen stood beneath a flickering everlasting lantern, taking the reins of the horse from Xiao Nanhui. A charming young woman in a pink padded jacket hurried across the courtyard to greet her. "Why are you back so late? Have you eaten? Uncle Chen told me you barely touched your breakfast. Look at the table of food I prepared—it’s gone stone cold waiting for you." Xiao Nanhui felt a surge of warmth at the blatant concern and nagging in Du Juan’s voice. "Sister Du Juan, thank you for your trouble. I’ve already eaten. You and Uncle Chen should go ahead and eat as well; don't wait for me this late in the future." She paused, glancing around the quiet grounds. "Has my adoptive father not returned yet?" Du Juan nodded with a touch of awkwardness. "He should be back soon. He wouldn't stay out overnight." The news only heightened Nanhui’s anxiety. Had she known, she would have detoured past Yukun Street on her way back into the city. "Has anyone checked the old manor?" Du Juan understood her worry. "Someone was sent before dark. He still hadn't emerged from the palace then." Xiao Nanhui breathed a sigh of relief, then remembered her promise to Yao Yi. "Those mushrooms I brought back last time—please have someone deliver them to Wangchen Tower immediately." Du Juan, unaware of the context, raised an eyebrow in disapproval. "What’s the rush? It’s so late. Is that glutton Yao Yi really going to blame you for a late delivery?" Xiao Nanhui could only offer a sheepish smile. "They were meant for him. If we keep them any longer, they’ll spoil." Du Juan was straightforward and had little patience for Yao Yi’s eccentricities. "We shouldn't give them all to him," she grumbled. "Let’s save half for Jixiang." Xiao Nanhui didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The exhaustion of the day began to settle into her bones. "He’s picky, so make sure to send the good ones. If my adoptive father returns, tell him I’m waiting in the backyard." With a yawn, she headed straight for the rear of the estate. Behind her, Du Juan watched her go, her expression uncharacteristically complex. The backyard of the Marquis’s manor was somewhat overgrown due to the lack of visitors. Aside from a few stone benches and tables, the garden consisted of common plants that had been there since the manor was built. Xiao Nanhui didn't know how to tend to them, and Du Juan and Uncle Chen were too busy. Over time, only the hardy wild weeds and flowers thrived, bringing a modest sense of life each spring. Xiao Nanhui changed into clean clothes and wandered into the center of the yard. The night was exceptionally still. The spring chill lingered, and the noisy insects had not yet emerged from the soil. The only sounds were the faint rustle of the wind through the leaves and the occasional creak of the roof tiles. Unable to settle her mind, she lay down on a stone bench and stared up at the old vine climbing the tree above her. She began to count the flowers, then the buds, then the leaves. Years ago, Xiao Zhun had trained her eyesight by making her stand under the scorching sun to count leaves. The sunlight would often dazzle her eyes, making her feel as though the very air was suffocating. When he spoke softly in her ear during those lessons, she had mistaken the fluttering of her heart for the shimmering of the heat. It was a feeling of intensity and breathlessness—entirely different from the cold, clear air of tonight. Yet Xiao Nanhui felt that if Xiao Zhun were by her side now, even the dim, obscure starlight would be enough to blind her like the midday sun. The sound of the night watchman’s clapper echoed from beyond the walls. She rolled over, resting her chin on the stone bench. Her vision was blurring, and still, Xiao Zhun had not returned. A faint sound came from the top of the wall, and a head adorned with bright green silk ribbons popped up. The intruder was busily pecking at a bunch of grapes, spitting out seeds that hit the ground with a rhythmic *tap-tap*. Xiao Nanhui endured it for a moment before losing her patience. She snatched up a pebble and flicked it with practiced precision. The stone flew true, aimed straight for the head. But the head was faster, tilting slightly to dodge the projectile. Without looking back, Nanhui threw a second stone. This one was faster and aimed not at the head, but at the grapes. Caught off guard, the intruder yelped as the bunch of grapes tumbled into the dirt at the base of the wall. "Those were a gift from the Emperor himself! How dare you let them eat dust!" The owner of the head stood up on the wall. Dressed in a red jacket with green ribbons in her hair, she was a striking, if somewhat clashing, sight. Though small in stature, she had bold features and a haughty expression that bordered on comical. Xiao Nanhui picked at her ear and tossed another pebble in her palm. "Do you have no respect for the Marquis? Stealing his grapes like that." The small figure put her hands on her hips. "Stealing? The Marquis gave them to me! Sister Du Juan brought them to me herself." "And what exactly were you being rewarded for?" "For... because..." The voice on the wall grew quiet. "I wonder which 'loyal' maid stays in bed after her master has risen, tastes the food before her master dines, and vanishes the moment her master leaves or returns. I wonder what Du Juan would say if she knew..." "You wouldn't dare!" Xiao Nanhui simply smiled. In the hierarchy of the manor, Du Juan’s scolding was the one thing everyone feared more than a blade. The girl with the green ribbons wavered. "...You can't tell her. If you do, I won't go check on Aunt Dai for you anymore." Aunt Dai was Xiao Zhun’s aunt. Because her mind was often clouded, she lived in a secluded side courtyard and rarely saw anyone. Xiao Nanhui’s smile faded. "Did you see her today? Did she say anything?" The girl touched her ribbons. "The same as always. She wove some new silk bands and gave them to me for my hair." Remembering their spat, she tried to regain her momentum. "I only came to check on you because I felt sorry for you, and you throw stones at me! Ungrateful..." Xiao Nanhui was truly weary now. "Bolao, before I call for Du Juan, you had better disappear." Bolao shrank back, gave a defiant huff, and vanished behind the wall. Xiao Nanhui listened until the footsteps faded. She sat up, preparing to stretch her stiff limbs, when she saw a figure standing at the entrance of the courtyard. As a martial artist, she was keenly sensitive to the breathing of others. Only a few people possessed the skill to approach her undetected. Xiao Zhun was one of them. The dark clouds from earlier had finally drifted over the capital. There was no moon, and Nanhui had not lit any lamps, yet she could clearly see the familiar silhouette walking toward her. Xiao Zhun was handsome in a rugged, heroic way, but he lacked the stiff austerity of most generals. His brows and the corners of his mouth held a hint of wild, unrestrained spirit, tempered only by the profound, steady depth in his eyes. Tonight, those eyes were shadowed with exhaustion. "Adoptive Father." Xiao Zhun smiled, his expression softening. He reached into his sleeve and produced a small square box. "I left in such a hurry this morning, thinking I’d be back by noon, so I took this with me. I didn't expect it to be this late." The box was made of copper. As Nanhui traced the patterns on the lid, she could feel the lingering warmth of his body on the metal. With a soft click, the latch opened to reveal a lustrous, white archer's thumb ring. Upon closer inspection, it bore fine, natural grains and pores, suggesting it was carved from bone, yet it was polished to a mirror-like sheen that resembled fine jade. She slid it onto her thumb; it was a perfect fit. "The one you’re using now is too worn," Xiao Zhun said. "This is made of white rhino horn. It’s more durable, and they say it wards off evil and brings peace." She hadn't drawn her bow in half a month, yet he had noticed the state of her equipment. A smile she couldn't suppress spread across her face. "Thank you, Adoptive Father." "Du Juan mentioned you went to Yongye Temple today. Did you go to seek a peace talisman?" Every year on her birthday, she would seek talismans for the soldiers in the camp, wishing for their safe return. Nanhui realized she had been so caught up in her frustration at the temple that she had forgotten her original purpose. "I intended to, but I got distracted by a fortune stick. I’ll have to go back another time." "A fortune stick?" Xiao Zhun raised an eyebrow. "What did you ask for?" Xiao Nanhui froze, her face flushing hot. "Just... a random question." He studied her, a teasing glint in his eyes. "A random question that made you forget the peace talismans? Was it perhaps about your marriage prospects?" It felt as though an arrow had pierced her chest; her heart skipped several beats. In the darkness, the lines of Xiao Zhun’s face seemed to blur, as if the invisible boundary between them was fading. Summoning her courage, she whispered, "I asked about you." The smile on Xiao Zhun’s face vanished, replaced once more by that heavy shroud of weariness. Seeing this, Nanhui’s spirit deflated, and she lowered her head. The silence between them grew heavy—an awkwardness that had become increasingly common of late. Fearing he might say something she wasn't ready to hear, she quickly changed the subject. "Did the Emperor summon you regarding the Secret Seal?" The question broke the tension but clearly startled him. "How do you know about that?" He frowned. "Did Yao Yi tell you something? He’s a reckless one; don't go following him into folly." "He didn't want to say anything. I forced it out of him," she explained. "He didn't give details, but he mentioned the Qu clan. When I heard it involved Huozhou, I guessed it was the Secret Seal." Xiao Zhun’s expression was conflicted. "Nanhui, I don't want you involved in this." She remained silent, her heart screaming its refusal. For the past two years, Xiao Zhun had been run ragged by the Emperor—flood relief in Qiuxi, bandit suppression in Zhongshan, stationing troops in Quzhou. He was treated like a high-ranking errand boy. The Emperor knew Xiao Zhun’s heart lay in reclaiming Bijiang, yet he never spoke of it. "Nanhui," he called softly. She looked up. "I understand. I heard there’s movement from the vassal king in Lingxi. This might be an opportunity to petition the Emperor again." "Mmm," Xiao Zhun grunted. He had likely already tried, only to be met with imperial indifference. Nanhui watched the furrow of worry between his brows and forced a smile. "No matter what, I will always be here to help you." Xiao Zhun’s gaze softened. After a moment, he spoke tentatively. "The world has been unstable lately. If war breaks out, it could take a year or more. By next year, you will be twenty-one. If there is a suitable family..." Her expression shifted instantly. "The military is busy. I want to help you for a few more years." Xiao Zhun sighed. "You said that last year, and the year before. Do you intend to spend your whole life among soldiers and campfires, like me?" *No,* she thought. *I just want to be with you.* "There’s nothing wrong with soldiers. They’re better than the scheming officials and sorcerers at court," she said aloud. "If you insist, then choose someone from the army. I will follow your arrangements." He searched her face. "Truly?" She nodded. "Truly." Her heart was never difficult to read; her truths and lies were written plainly on her face. Xiao Zhun was not blind, but for now, he chose to look away. The clouds overhead rumbled with muffled thunder. The rain was imminent. "I will keep it in mind. The Emperor is pressing for the new tactical maps for Quzhou. I must..." Xiao Nanhui cursed the Emperor in her mind, her smile masking a sharp pang of disappointment. "Go then. A tactical map isn't built in a day. Don't work through the night." She bowed to take her leave. Just as she reached the edge of the courtyard, he called her name one last time. "Nanhui." She turned. The first drops of rain began to fall on her face. In the unlit yard, Xiao Zhun’s face was a dark, indistinct shadow. "Happy birthday." She couldn't help it; she smiled. But it was a pity—it was so dark that neither of them could see the other's face. ---