The end of the year was approaching; this year would soon be over.
After the heavy snow came the depths of winter, and once the flurries ceased, a north wind rose over Bijiang. The wind howled through the mouth of Sanmu Pass, often wailing from dawn until midnight.
The northern walls of the Sun Mansion were several inches thicker than those on the south, ensuring the winter chill could not penetrate. Yet, when Xiao Nanhui startled awake in the middle of the night, she often imagined she was still in the desert surrounded by prowling wolf packs. Only after rising to light a lamp could she regain her senses, but sleep would elude her thereafter, leaving her to sit by the window alone until daybreak.
Her injuries healed quickly. Within a few days, she was able to move freely. Several times, she considered mounting her horse and galloping to Bijiang to reunite with Xiao Zhun. However, the forces in Subei were constantly striking camp and shifting positions; she might find the spot where they had been only to find them gone. Furthermore, she now held an official rank. Upon returning to camp, she would be in command of three divisions of cavalry. She was no longer a mere squad leader who could go wherever she pleased. Without a proper pretext, she could not act on her own authority.
Thirdly, while the Emperor had granted her temporary leave from combat on the grounds of recuperation, he had assigned two personal guards to her, stating it was a matter of protocol that could not be refused. She was used to being solitary—at most, she could tolerate the hyperactive and often elusive Bo Lao. Now, having two shadows thrust upon her, seeing them every time she looked up or down, was truly awkward.
Moreover, she couldn't help but wonder if it was just her imagination, but she felt these two were guards in name only, acting instead as the Emperor’s eyes and ears.
But why would the Emperor watch her? She had never been someone worth such effort.
Pondering it brought no answers, and she did not dare to openly dismiss them. She simply found an opportunity to hand them over to Wu Xiaoliu to "handle." This "handling" involved finding tasks for them to do so they wouldn't spend the entire day staring at her. After all, it wasn't these two she feared, but the man who had sent them.
Since returning from that so-called council chamber, she had kept a close eye on the movements in that vicinity whenever she had the chance. She didn't miss any important military reports and even received a rare message from Lu Songping delivered alongside the official dispatches.
From the letter, she learned that Mo Chunhua was safe and sound. Her heart eased, though it was somewhat expected. In the early hours of the day of the light snow, she had solemnly entrusted Lu Songping to look after Mo Chunhua’s life amidst the chaos. She lacked the ability of civil officials and powerful ministers to read people; her recognition of a person's character usually came through sparring. Lu Songping was feminine by nature and meticulous as a strand of silk; though he was crafty, he was not necessarily untrustworthy. If there was one person in that chaotic situation who could have protected Mo Chunhua, it was undoubtedly him.
Sometimes she felt Mo Chunhua shared certain similarities with her. They were not precious flowers; no matter what soil they were cast upon, they would take root and grow. It was because of this resemblance that she felt a sense of kinship with the woman, though she did not know if they would ever meet again.
Perhaps because he saw her closeness with the Emperor, Lu Songping did not say much in the letter. However, she felt that matters should be settled properly. Upon returning to Quecheng, she should perhaps send a thank-you gift in the name of the Marquis's Manor. Naturally, this time she absolutely could not let Du Juan interfere.
Victory reports reached Xiao Nanhui’s ears one after another. Many of the familiar place names mentioned were ones she had personally written and drawn into the maps.
On the coldest day of winter, she heard a report: Bai Heliu’s eldest and second sons were confirmed dead in battle. Only a young son, no more than six years old, remained. He had been captured by the Guangyao Camp while attempting to flee with his wet nurse and was currently held in the prisoner-of-war camp.
The Emperor’s reaction to this was cold. He merely gave orders for the boy to be well-tended, mentioning nothing of his ultimate fate.
In truth, aside from his exhaustive planning and keen insight during military deployments, others could see little genuine concern from this sovereign who had personally led the campaign. He showed no joy over the great victories.
In the past, Xiao Nanhui would have found this perplexing. But after spending time with him, she felt the Emperor’s mindset was not difficult to fathom. Reclaiming Bijiang was perhaps just something he had to do—no different from when he left the Imperial City for the northern lands with only a single guard to pursue clues about the Secret Seal.
The heart of an Emperor was, to some extent, synonymous with the heart of the state.
For Tiancheng, reclaiming Bijiang was merely the inevitable trend of unification. But for the people of Bijiang who had once lived alongside her, the entire world had turned upside down.
Her emotions were complex, but mostly she felt a sense of relief that a great matter was nearing its end.
To some degree, she had faith in the Emperor. He had the power to reclaim the lost lands of the southwest, and he had the power to make them better.
She had already begun to fantasize about what the Marquis Qinghuai’s Manor would look like once the war was officially settled.
Xiao Zhun did not crave power and had long grown weary of slaughter. Once the matter of the family’s massacre was cleared up, he could request retirement from the Emperor. At that time, he might have to surrender the title of Marquis Qinghuai, and the monthly silver entering the manor would naturally decrease according to regulations. But none of that mattered; what mattered was that Xiao Zhun would be happy.
She had already decided: if they stayed in Quecheng, she could consider a minor post in the Guangyao Camp. Though the salary wouldn't be much, with the manor as their home, it would be enough for food and drink. If she followed Xiao Zhun back to their ancestral hometown, she would resign her commission and find work with a security bureau; that would be enough to support their small household. Any remaining monthly silver would be given to Du Juan to manage, and they would hire a few more servants and maids so Du Juan could be a lady of leisure. Uncle Chen’s legs had become increasingly stiff in recent years; this would be a good chance for him to retire early and live a peaceful life.
These thoughts ran through her mind almost every day, now so familiar she could have scripted them into a play.
Occasionally, she would ramble about it to Bo Lao, who would always pick at his ears with an air of total disinterest.
In the early hours of this day, she startled awake from a dream and found it impossible to return to sleep. As was her habit, she slipped away from the guards "monitoring" her and dragged Bo Lao up the high cliffs of Sanmu Pass to catch the wind.
The sky was not yet bright, and there was no sound but the wind. She chatted idly with Bo Lao, and before she knew it, she brought up her future plans again. Bo Lao, however, became uncharacteristically upset.
"Xiao Nanhui, why am I not included in these grand plans of yours?"
She blinked, realizing she truly hadn't considered the question. She answered instinctively, "Haven't you always followed me? Naturally, it will be the same in the future."
Bo Lao pouted, seemingly waiting for those words. "That’s not a certainty. Didn't the Marquis foist me upon you because he feared he couldn't protect you one day? Looking at it now, he worried for nothing. When the time comes, I’ll go beg him; maybe he’ll dissolve the contract between us. Then, with the world so wide and a bit of silver in my pocket..."
As she spoke, her mouth stretched into a wide grin, and she was just about to let out a foolish laugh when a palm smacked her upside the head. She looked up indignantly, meeting Xiao Nanhui’s expressionless face.
"They say the Andao Academy is full of loyal martyrs who would never serve two masters in one life. Or do you wish to challenge Xie Li, usurp the position of Head, and change the rules there?"
Bo Lao glared at her fiercely, gnashing her teeth and flailing her arms before dropping a final threat: "When I see the Marquis in a few days, I’m definitely telling on you!"
This time it was Xiao Nanhui’s turn to pick at her ears. "Suit yourself. We’re both basically picked-up goods anyway. At worst, we’ll both get kicked out of the manor to sleep on the streets. Do you think I’m afraid of you?"
She spoke with such roguish finality that she left no room even for herself. Bo Lao was momentarily speechless, unable to find a rebuttal.
The corners of Xiao Nanhui’s mouth curled up in triumph.
Did Bo Lao think her time spent with the Emperor was for nothing?
Heh, it turned out that speaking was indeed an art. One could make someone choke on their words without using a blade or a spear. The feeling was quite refreshing.
Just as she was feeling lightheaded with pride, she suddenly heard movement. Opening her eyes to look, she saw a small troop of black-clad riders filing out from the direction of the Sun Mansion, heading southwest toward the exit of the valley.
"Wait, isn't that...?" The sky was too dark, and she suspected she was seeing things. She flipped down to a closer vantage point, confirming her suspicion. "Isn't that the Emperor’s carriage?"
In a military campaign, carriages were rarely used except for logistics and baggage. The design and appearance of that black carriage were very familiar. But the most convincing evidence was Ding Weixiang, who was riding beside it.
"Where is the Emperor going in such a hurry? For the Imperial Carriage to move personally, has something major happened?"
Bo Lao glanced over, her voice still carrying a hint of her previous annoyance. "Eighty percent chance they have news of Bai Heliu."
Bai Heliu? That was somewhat unexpected.
But for the Emperor to go personally, that was the only possibility.
"It seems this war really is coming to an end." Xiao Nanhui habitually wiped her Pingxian, still feeling a sense of unreality.
"Isn't a quick resolution good? It would be terrible if it dragged on for three or five years."
Of course it was good. Those who had never been to a battlefield would never know how terrible war was, but she had known since she was a teenager.
Now that everything seemed to be ending smoothly, she should be happy.
Yet for some reason, a faint sense of unease kept rising within her. She didn't know if she was uneasy because of the recent nights of startling awake, or if she was startling awake because of this unease.
As if in response to her anxiety, in the next instant, she saw another troop of horses galloping rapidly from the direction of the military camp outside the Sun Mansion.
The sound of hooves echoed through the valley like thunder, indicating a cavalry unit of at least several hundred men.
Her heart tightened. She focused her gaze to see who was leading them.
The cavalry moved fast, flashing through the valley beneath the cliff in an instant. She suspected her eyes were playing tricks on her, but Bo Lao beside her was clearly certain.
"Isn't that Su Pingchuan? I could recognize that annoying brat’s face from ten thousand miles away."
In the blink of an eye, the troop reached the fork in the road she had passed when being hunted by Kesang, and without pausing, they headed deep into Bijiang.
That was the direction of the Bijiang battlefield. However, since Tiancheng had broken through Sanmu Pass and moved into the interior, to avoid the enemy using the terrain for local flanking maneuvers, the strategy rarely involved using small units for mopping-up operations. Once they struck, it was usually with forces of over ten thousand.
Rapidly filtering through the various reports from the past few days, Xiao Nanhui still couldn't be sure what Su Pingchuan was up to.
Based on her previous knowledge of Bijiang, the locals were very adept at using the terrain. Even an ordinary village, if prepared in advance with an ambush, could annihilate over a thousand well-trained troops.
Su Pingchuan had tripped up before; why would he act this way now?
The more she thought, the more she couldn't let it go.
"No, I have to follow and see."
Bo Lao looked at her sideways. "Aren't you afraid the Emperor will find trouble with you?"
The words "Hasn't he just left?" almost escaped her lips, but she swallowed them.
For some reason, she was reluctant to admit her wariness of the Emperor. On the surface, the Emperor had not forbidden her from going out, but she felt inexplicably that if she went out willfully, she would feel a strange sense of guilt.
"Stop talking nonsense. I'll go by myself."
Xiao Nanhui turned to leave, Pingxian in hand, but Bo Lao had already stood up and dusted off her seat.
"I only said one thing, what's the rush? My bones have gone sour from staying here these past few days. It's a good time to stretch a bit."
***
Glossary
