The military laws of Tiancheng were severe, strictly forbidding the spread of rumors and gossip.
If soldiers were caught discussing military or political affairs, they would be subjected to caning and then stripped of their rank, barred from ever re-entering military service for the rest of their lives.
That being said, one could not control the human heart.
Lately, within the Tiancheng military camp by the Tianmu River, many were whispering about a certain matter.
On that night, a scout from the Black Feather Camp had captured a Nanqi prisoner—a woman, no less—who was carrying the waist token of the Left General who had gone missing a month prior.
The prisoner camp had interrogated the woman for a day and a night but extracted nothing. In the end, she had succumbed to the torture and breathed her last, her body buried hastily by the riverbank.
Of course, the one buried by the river was not Xiao Nanhui. At this moment, she was lying in her own small tent, idly digging at the sand in boredom.
The Black Feather Camp truly lived up to its reputation as the Emperor’s personal guard; they were ruthless and efficient in their work. In the time it took to burn a stick of incense, they had arranged her body double and her subsequent "death" with perfect clarity.
She knew the Emperor must have begun his maneuvers, though she was ignorant of the details. Since her audience with him that night, she had been tucked away in a small tent not far from the main command tent, forbidden from leaving without an imperial decree.
Now that she knew the Emperor was Zhongli Jing, she wasn't at all worried about him suffering a loss in this affair. Her mission was effectively over for the time being. She only wondered if Bolao’s side was proceeding smoothly, if he had met up with Su Pingchuan and the others, and if that stubborn mule Su Pingchuan had behaved himself on the road.
However, when it came to martial skill, she had absolute confidence in Bolao. Even if Su Pingchuan had ideas of his own, he wouldn't be able to escape Bolao’s grasp.
Calculated this way, if she could find a way to contact Xiao Zhun, her journey to the west would be considered a complete success.
As she was lost in thought, the owner of the tent lifted the flap and walked in.
The warm sunlight from outside spilled across the floor, illuminating a tall, thin woman with narrow eyes. A white cloth for wiping hands was draped over her shoulder, and she carried a large bucket.
In the next instant, the flap was heartlessly dropped, and the tent returned to its cold, dim state.
Xiao Nanhui had changed back into the attire of a Tiancheng man, ungracefully wrapping herself in layers of cotton clothing. But the owner of this tent was incredibly stingy, refusing to burn even a single piece of charcoal. Despite her thick layers, Xiao Nanhui’s nose was still running from the cold.
Rubbing her paws together, she couldn't hide her dissatisfaction. "Mo Chunhua, if you want to freeze me to death, just say so. I can take down the felt blankets of this tent myself to save you the trouble."
The woman named Mo Chunhua gave a cold snort and set the bucket on the ground.
"His Majesty said you were from the ranks, a proper soldier. Looking at you now, you’re not much at all—delicate from head to toe."
Xiao Nanhui felt a breath catch in her chest.
This was the first time anyone had ever called her "delicate." She truly didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"Even if I weren't delicate, there's no need to seek out suffering. Besides, this tent is allotted charcoal. Why not use it?"
"Charcoal is precious. Those who go out to kill the enemy don't even get to use it, so what right do you have?"
Fine, she was being looked down upon as a lazy glutton.
The girl didn't know how much hardship she had endured for Tiancheng’s war effort, and now she wasn't even worthy of a piece of charcoal.
There was no point in arguing further. She was never one to bicker with others, especially a girl several years younger than herself.
Since continuing the conversation would only irritate her, she decided to change the subject.
"What did you bring?"
Mo Chunhua didn't speak. She lifted the lid of the bucket, and the steaming scent of mutton soup wafted out. Xiao Nanhui swallowed hard.
Mo Chunhua shot her a sidelong glance, pulled out two pieces of cold flatbread from her person, and skillfully broke them into a bowl.
Her skin had a natural honeyed hue, not caused by the wind and sand of Lingxi, but a complexion unique to the Nanqi people. Yet her frame was slender and her features delicate, unlike the typical Nanqi appearance.
Xiao Nanhui had been puzzled at first, but after learning of her background, she understood.
Mo Chunhua was the daughter of Yan Guang, but she was the child of a concubine and could not be entered into the family genealogy. Thus, she took her mother’s surname, and her name had been given quite carelessly. It wouldn't have been so bad if she were just a concubine's child, but that concubine was a Nanqi woman Yan Guang had taken in during his early years stationed in the west. She had started as a lowly maid, and somehow, a child had followed.
Mo Chunhua was a woman of broad-minded character, inheriting the directness of the Nanqi while possessing a touch of the pride belonging to her father as a man of Tiancheng. Though her birth was lowly, she carried herself with the air of a "commandery princess."
She was determined to help her father and had studied under many physicians and shamans, hoping to earn a rank in the army so she could follow the campaigns like her father. Naturally, Yan Guang did not approve. His only worry was his daughter’s marriage; her presence on this trip was an accident.
For some reason, the Emperor had sent away the precious Qu family physician who usually attended him. In this desolate land, where else could a reliable person be found? Though reluctant, Yan Guang eventually brought Mo Chunhua into the camp.
The Emperor hadn't used her services, but Xiao Nanhui had.
She looked down at the bandage on her thigh. It felt itchy, likely because the wound was beginning to knit.
She instinctively reached down to scratch it, but her hand was halfway there when it was met with a sharp *smack*.
The culprit didn't even look at her, continuing to break the bread with unhurried movements.
Xiao Nanhui sheepishly rubbed the back of her hand.
She had grown too accustomed to being arrogant around that "pretty boy" Hao Bai. Now, retribution had come in the form of a girl with a foul temper—a veritable little cuckoo. Even if Bolao were here, he probably wouldn't be her match.
Aside from the bad temper and the refusal to give her charcoal, Mo Chunhua treated her well enough.
Xiao Nanhui watched expectantly as the other girl poured the boiling mutton soup over the dry bread. What was originally the most tasteless of rations now seemed to rival the finest delicacies.
For the sake of this cooking skill, she could endure anything.
"Have you met the Emperor before?"
Mo Chunhua spoke suddenly. Xiao Nanhui, her mouth full of food, only let out a grunt.
*Hmph, more than just met.*
"Although His Majesty doesn't speak much, his character is most magnanimous. Did you do something before? He hasn't let you out these past few days; he seems to be holding a bit of a grudge."
What... what had she done before?
She had fought the Emperor for a guest room, called him a thief, entertained the thought of dragging him to a brothel to work as a host, torn his clothes with her bare hands, and told him to his face that his eyesight wasn't very good...
Xiao Nanhui scooped up a piece of soaked bread in tragic indignation and stuffed another spoonful into her mouth.
"Looking at you, it seems you've done plenty of shameful things."
She didn't like the sound of that. she was risking her head working for the Emperor; how had it become her fault?
"I see you are still young, so I won't argue with you. When I first met him, he never said he was the Emperor."
Naturally, Mo Chunhua didn't believe a word of it, looking at her as if she were a fool.
"Why don't you just say the Emperor is your sworn brother?"
Xiao Nanhui felt powerless. "It's true! He and that paralyzed-faced guard of his teamed up to lie to me, saying his surname was Zhongli. I knew it—who in the world would have a surname like that..."
"Master Xiao." Mo Chunhua skillfully set the bowls and chopsticks aside. "Let me ask you, what is the honorable surname of Prince Xuanyuan?"
She reluctantly spat out a word: "Su."
"And what is the honorable surname of our Tiancheng imperial family?"
"...Su."
She knew all this, of course, but...
"Then why are you still talking nonsense?"
Nonsense? Where was the nonsense?
She was determined to win one back. "You're so smart, why don't you tell me—what is the Emperor's name?"
Mo Chunhua was indeed stumped. "W-why should I tell you?"
"I see how it is. You don't know either."
Mo Chunhua, her sore spot poked, knit her brows into an inverted 'V', showing her Nanqi temperament. "Just because I don't say it doesn't mean I don't know! It is called 'avoiding the name of the venerable.' You don't know a damn thing."
Xiao Nanhui clicked her tongue. "Avoiding the name of the venerable? You're not that old, yet you put on the airs of a pedantic scholar from the North City Academy."
Mo Chunhua glared at her, stood up with a *whoosh*, and headed straight for the bed. She grabbed the quilts and blankets and rolled them up with force.
Xiao Nanhui’s expression soured. She muttered, "I only countered you with two sentences, and now you're taking my blankets to freeze me to death?"
Mo Chunhua said nothing, striding to the corner and heading straight for the few hard biscuits Xiao Nanhui had hidden under a tattered felt rug.
This time, she couldn't sit still.
Those were the biscuits she had worked so hard to save! It was good to have something to gnaw on when there was nothing to do.
Xiao Nanhui lunged forward, clinging to Mo Chunhua, though she didn't dare actually hurt her. She could only try to pry the girl's fingers away to save her last bit of "provisions."
Just then, someone slipped into the tent entrance.
"Miss Mo, is everything packed? His Majesty has ordered the camp to be moved immediately. Please do not be late."
Xiao Nanhui was currently hanging ungracefully off Mo Chunhua. Hearing the voice, she turned her head and met Ding Weixiang’s meaningful gaze.
What kind of look was that? He must have learned that eccentric, mocking expression from his master. It was truly irritating.
She snorted through her nose in response.
Moving camp was moving camp; they hadn't even notified her in advance, making her think...
Wait.
"You... how long were you standing outside my tent?"
Ding Weixiang looked at her lazily. "Not long."
Those words only made her more anxious. "How long is 'not long'?!"
Had he heard her string of complaints about the Emperor? How much had he heard?
Ding Weixiang ignored her, turning to leave the tent.
Xiao Nanhui grew frantic. She jumped off Mo Chunhua and rushed out of the tent.
The long-awaited fresh air rushed into her nose, but before she could take more than a few breaths, a pitch-black sack dropped over her head, covering her completely.
She instinctively threw an elbow strike and reached back to seize the other's joints, but her elbow was locked by a grappling move a hundred times more practiced than her own.
"Ding Weixiang! If you have the guts, don't cover my face! Let's have a proper match..."
As she spoke, her other hand reached for the *Pingxian* blade she always kept strapped to her back.
However, someone clearly knew her tricks well. Before her hand could reach it, she felt her back go empty.
"If you keep shouting, I'll have to knock you unconscious."
Xiao Nanhui instantly deflated.
She knew he was a man of his word, and she truly didn't want to take another punch.
Ding Weixiang said no more. She heard the low voices of Mo Chunhua talking to others fading into the distance, and then she was pulled onto a vehicle.
The vehicle wove through the camp. The surroundings were filled with the sounds of moving horses and the friction of armor, but human voices were rare—a testament to the strict discipline of the Black Feather Camp.
Though she could not see, her senses remained sharp. Over the next half-day, she was moved between three or four different vehicles. Some carried military equipment, others supplies and grain; they clearly didn't want anyone to know of her existence.
When she was moved for the final time, her bound hands were finally untied. The air around her grew noticeably quiet, and the temperature rose significantly—the feeling of a well-sealed space.
This was a carriage.
The thought immediately followed: during a forced march, there wasn't a second person who could afford to sit in a carriage.
The hair on the back of Xiao Nanhui’s neck stood up. She could hear the breathing of another person in the cabin, but no one spoke.
She stayed rooted to the spot like a dazed goose, not daring to move. After a while, unable to help herself, she slowly raised her newly freed hands and removed the cloth bag from her head.
It was now late at night. The light inside the carriage was soft; aside from the red glow of the charcoal brazier in the corner, there was only a single candle. Her eyes adjusted almost instantly, her gaze falling upon the man sitting on the soft divan nearby.
He was no longer wearing that cold moon-white; he had changed into a pitch-black fur robe. In the dim light, he seemed to merge with the black animal skin beneath him, making his face appear even more frigid.
The Emperor did not look at her. On the small table before him was a mountain of scrolls. He read them one by one, making annotations, his face devoid of any expression.
This scene inexplicably reminded her of the time she had shared a carriage with him when leaving Huozhou.
Xiao Nanhui swallowed. Just as she was wondering if she should say something, he spoke first.
"Do you mind sharing a carriage with Us?"
*You already stuffed me in here, why ask so hypocritically?*
Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, she lowered her head submissively. "It is my honor to ride with Your Majesty."
She was truly terrible at such insincere flattery; the stiffness in her voice made it sound like someone else's.
"Xiao Nanhui."
She had been called by name.
Driven almost by instinct, her back pressed tightly against the carriage wall behind her.
"I am here."
The Emperor’s dark eyes locked onto her face. "Do you have questions to ask?"
Questions? Of course she had questions!
She had a wagon-load of questions about that great liar "Zhongli Jing," but... who would dare ask?
"Your Majesty... why did Your Majesty choose to lead the campaign in person?" After a long pause, she squeezed out a question she herself found incredibly stupid.
"The royal lands await recovery. What is improper about Us taking them back personally?"
"No, no, no. I meant that on the battlefield, swords have no eyes. Your Majesty possesses a body of ten thousand gold; you must take care..."
"When a general is in the field, he may ignore the sovereign's command. When the sovereign is in the field, he may ignore the command of Heaven. If Heaven decrees an ill wind, let it drop the great burden upon someone else. Why worry overmuch?"
Xiao Nanhui was stunned.
This was the first time she had heard an Emperor say: *If Heaven wants me dead, then I'll die; whoever wants the throne can have it.*
Perhaps it was her lack of experience—she had only ever met this one Emperor. She didn't know if other Emperors were like the one before her, so... so unrestrained by convention.
But on second thought, this man was famous for being inscrutable. If he were saying something insincere, she wouldn't be able to tell with her meager skills anyway.
Fine, whatever you say.
"I have overthought it."
Silence fell over the carriage.
After a moment, the Emperor began to find conversation again.
"How have you been getting along with General Yan’s daughter these past few days?"
*Just getting by, it's not like I can go and die.*
"I have gotten along very well with Miss Mo. She has taken great care of me..."
"Very well. She is unfamiliar with you and does not know your identity. She is also young, so there will inevitably be lapses in her care. No matter, We will make other arrangements later."
Wait, she hadn't said anything bad about Mo Chunhua! Why were there "other arrangements"? Where were they sending her? To be a spy again?
Xiao Nanhui felt a bit of a breakdown coming. "That... actually, there's no need..."
The Emperor, however, seemed to have half a sentence left. "If not for Mo Chunhua, We would not have known you were so interested in Our name."
Xiao Nanhui froze for a moment, then realized that earlier, outside Mo Chunhua’s tent, that fellow Ding Weixiang had indeed heard every single word she said.
Her heart raced, and her mouth felt bitter. "I would not dare."
"In this effort to purge the pests and eliminate the traitors, you have merit. We can make an exception and let you alone know."
No, no, no. She felt she didn't want to know at all.
Of course, the Emperor could not hear her inner thoughts.
The Emperor’s wrist moved slightly. The brush in his hand was stained with a rich crimson, like blood on the tip of a blade.
It was the cinnabar used for reviewing memorials.
"Your hand."
His voice was not heavy or stern; it even carried a hint of casualness. Yet, for some reason, she did not dare disobey.
A thin layer of sweat broke out on her palm instantly. She slowly unclenched her fist and offered her hand.
The tip of the brush landed softly. The supple yet resilient bristles swept across her palm—it was itchy—and then pulled away a moment later.
Xiao Nanhui looked down. In the center of her palm was a bright red character: *Wei*.
"Our name. Have you remembered it?"
*Wei.*
Su Wei.
This was his personal name.
Mo Chunhua had been exactly right.
The sovereign is venerable; his name must be tabooed.
In Tiancheng, very few people knew the Emperor’s true name. Even if they knew, how could they easily mention it?
She wasn't stupid; she had simply never imagined she would be someone who could know his name.
She had thought her connection with him ended with "Zhongli Jing."
Xiao Nanhui stared blankly at the character in her palm. She felt as if that red ink had become scalding hot, slowly burning through her skin, into her flesh, and into her very bones as time passed.
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
---|---|---
名为尊者讳 | Tabooing the name of the venerable | A cultural practice of avoiding the use of the personal names of emperors, ancestors, or elders as a sign of respect.
莫春花 | Mo Chunhua | Daughter of General Yan Guang and a Nanqi concubine; currently caring for Xiao Nanhui.
颜广 | Yan Guang | A general in the Tiancheng army; Mo Chunhua's father.
朱砂 | Cinnabar | Red pigment/ink used by emperors to sign or annotate official documents.
未 | Wei | The Emperor's personal name (Su Wei).
夙 | Su | The imperial surname of the Tiancheng Dynasty.
烜远王 | Prince Xuanyuan | Referring to Su Pingchuan's title.
平弦 | Pingxian | Xiao Nanhui's signature weapon (a concealed blade).
