After the battle at Luo Feng Shoal, both the Hua Dynasty and the Yue Luo Tribe suffered casualties. Wang Lang led his remaining troops to regroup with the forces ambushing Hu Tiao Shoal and returned to Chang Le City, abandoning further westward conquest.
The Second Dusi, seeing Wang Lang’s retreat, knew the situation was dire. His treachery against the tribe was exposed, inciting public outrage. A mutiny broke out among the troops stationed at Liu Xia Peak. The Second Dusi fled overnight with his confidants but was captured by the Third Dusi and his men at Xue Song Ridge.
Wei Zhao, aware that Wang Lang’s retreat would prompt him to consult the Crown Prince and Minister Dong about another western expedition, knew that it would take time for the court to send reinforcements. This would give them a brief respite. By then, the ice and snow would melt, and if their plans succeeded, the Yue Luo Tribe could maintain temporary peace.
He redeployed the troops, stationing elite forces at Liu Xia Peak and Fei He Gorge. He also sent out spies to monitor Wang Lang’s movements before escorting the Second Dusi and the remains of the Great Dusi Hong Ye back to Shan Hai Valley.
Now, only five of the nine Dusi remained. These were all in awe of the Holy Sect Leader’s divine power, swearing to follow him to death and pledging their loyalty. Wei Zhao finally had the tribe’s power firmly in his grasp.
Although the Yue Luo Tribe suffered heavy losses in this battle, it was the first time in nearly a century that they had driven back the Hua Dynasty’s troops sent to “pacify” them. In the past, even with just a few thousand men, the Hua Dynasty’s troops would penetrate deep into their territory, pillaging and killing, forcing the Yue Luo people to sue for peace by offering tributes and slaves. This time, they had managed to drive back Wang Lang’s sixty-thousand-strong army to Chang Le City, a feat unprecedented in over a hundred years.
Wei Zhao knew the time was ripe. Taking advantage of the high morale and united spirit among the tribespeople, he proposed military and political reforms during the council meeting with the tribal chief and the Dusi.
After discussions, they adopted the Sixth Dusi’s suggestion: the Holy Sect Leader would assume the role of Holy General, commanding all military forces. The troops would be centralized in Shan Hai Valley for training, with the Holy General deploying them as needed.
The tax system was also reformed. The taxes from the territories of the four deceased Dusi would be collected by the tribal chief. The remaining Dusi would keep half of their collected taxes for their use, with the rest submitted to the tribe for military expenses.
These matters were settled over seven days. Then, a public memorial service was held for the Great Dusi and the fallen warriors, with the Second Dusi executed on the sacrificial altar.
After witnessing the Great Dusi’s coffin being buried and the Second Dusi’s blood spilling on the altar, with thousands of tribespeople prostrating and wailing, Wei Zhao felt exhausted both physically and mentally. He quietly left the memorial site.
As he walked slowly, images of corpses and bloodstains from Luo Feng Shoal kept flashing before his eyes. The night wind blew, causing the sound of melting ice from the pine trees. A few drops of snow water fell on Wei Zhao’s hand. He gently licked it off and slowly walked towards “Xue Mei Courtyard.”
Jiang Ci had returned to Shan Hai Valley with Wei Zhao’s army and was again residing in “Xue Mei Courtyard.” Dan Xue and Mei Ying had already heard from the tribespeople about her lone crossing of the rope bridge and risking her life to warn them, saving the tribe from danger. When they saw her return, they embraced her and wept loudly.
Neither mentioned Jiang Ci’s attempt to escape. Jiang Ci also knew that Wei Zhao wouldn’t grant her freedom yet. This time, she had willingly chosen to return and didn’t regret her decision. Her desire to escape gradually faded, and she settled contentedly in “Xue Mei Courtyard.”
That night, as the three women were eating and drinking in the stone house, Wei Zhao entered. Dan Xue and Mei Ying lowered their heads and left.
Hearing the two women’s footsteps leave the courtyard and the gate gently close, Wei Zhao removed his mask, heaved a long sigh, sat down in a chair, grabbed the wine jug on the table, and took several large gulps.
Jiang Ci couldn’t forget the scene of Wei Zhao holding Hong Ye’s body and wailing to the sky on the battlefield. She knew his heart was aching after tonight’s memorial service for the Great Dusi. She quietly looked at him and suddenly asked, “Third Lord, do you plan to keep wearing this mask forever?”
Wei Zhao didn’t answer, just continued eating and drinking. Jiang Ci didn’t ask again but refilled his cup when it was empty. After several drinks, Wei Zhao looked at her and said, “Don’t think about escaping anymore. When spring comes, I’ll send you back to Hua Dynasty, back to Young Lord.”
Jiang Ci blushed and lowered her head, saying softly, “I won’t go back to him. I want to return to my own home.”
“Your own home? Where is it?” Wei Zhao suddenly became interested. He only knew Jiang Ci as a girl who appeared out of nowhere but didn’t know where she came from or where her home was. He had secretly investigated, but Pei Yan’s subordinates were tight-lipped, and he never found out.
Jiang Ci, prompted by his words, felt homesick and described Deng Family Village as if it were paradise. However, she remained cautious and never mentioned the name or specific location of Deng Family Village.
Wei Zhao listened quietly, occasionally asking a question or two. Jiang Ci got carried away and recounted interesting stories from her childhood to adulthood. By the time the wine jug was empty and the dishes were finished, they were surprised to find it was already midnight.
Wei Zhao’s grief had somewhat eased. He put on his mask and said calmly, “Three days from now is the Yue Luo Tribe’s New Year. There will be a gathering in Shan Hai Valley. I’ll take you to see our Yue Luo Tribe’s songs and dances then.”
On the eighteenth day of the first lunar month, it was the Yue Luo New Year.
Due to the recent brutal battle at Luo Feng Shoal, to avoid reminding the tribespeople of the tragedy, this year’s New Year’s gathering was moved to Shan Hai Valley.
That night, Shan Hai Valley was filled with the sound of gongs and drums, brilliantly lit. People celebrated the arrival of the New Year while praying that with the coming of spring, under the leadership of the Holy Sect Leader, the Yue Luo Tribe would unite and forever rid themselves of enslavement.
A frosty moon quietly hung in the eastern sky, bathing Shan Hai Valley in a clean, moonlit glow. The Yue Luo girls were dressed in their finest clothes, wearing silver ornaments in their hair. The young men gathered around bonfires, playing reed pipes and dancing, occasionally joking with the girls, filling the air with laughter and merriment.
Jiang Ci wore the festive dress of a Yue Luo girl and sat on a high platform. As Wei Zhao turned his head, he saw her lips glowing alluringly in the firelight. The image of her with her black hair flying high, dressed in a phoenix gown crossing the rope bridge that morning flashed before his eyes. He couldn’t help but call out, “Little girl.”
Jiang Ci responded and turned her head, asking, “Third Lord, what is it?”
Wei Zhao’s face was hidden behind his mask, only his eyes visible, like cold stars in the sky, staring at Jiang Ci. He asked, “You’re from the Hua Dynasty. Why did you save our Yue Luo people?”
Jiang Ci lowered her head and then looked up at the singing and dancing crowd in the center of the field. She said softly, “I didn’t think much at the time. I just felt that the Hua people are human, and so are the Yue Luo people. Why should you always be bullied by others? Maybe, by doing what I did, fewer people would die, and Dan Xue and Mei Ying might escape disaster.”
Wei Zhao’s eyes flickered. After a while, he asked again, “Then, if in the future, our Yue Luo Tribe goes to war with the Hua Dynasty again, and you’re given another chance to choose, would you help us or the Hua Dynasty?”
Jiang Ci shook her head gently, “I don’t know. I just hope that everyone will never fight again. That all the people in the world could be like brothers and sisters, living in harmony. You don’t bully me, and I don’t bully you. Everyone has food to eat and clothes to wear. Wouldn’t that be wonderful!”
Wei Zhao threw his head back and laughed, feeling it was the funniest yet most sorrowful thing he had ever heard. He was about to mock her words when he saw several young men crowding around Hong Jie, the son of the Great Dusi.
Hong Jie was the eldest son of the Great Dusi, only seventeen years old. He had handsome eyebrows and bright eyes, complementing his already manly physique, giving him quite an air of heroism.
Wei Zhao saw Hong Jie approaching and said gently, “A’Jie, why haven’t you returned to Meng Ze Valley?”
Hong Jie bowed to Wei Zhao, “Holy Sect Leader, my father once told me to follow you and serve wholeheartedly to save our Yue Luo Tribe. I won’t return to Meng Ze Valley. I want to follow you and avenge my father.”
Wei Zhao said nothing more but his gaze shifted to the red flower in Hong Jie’s hand, slightly startled.
Hong Jie looked at Jiang Ci beside him, his face flushed. Urged on by his companions, he suddenly thrust the red flower towards Jiang Ci.
Jiang Ci didn’t understand its meaning but saw that the red flower was extremely beautiful and charming. She liked it and was about to reach out and accept it.
A gentle breeze blew, and Hong Jie’s wrist went numb. The red flower fell to the ground. As he hurriedly bent to pick it up, he saw a pair of black boots standing before him.
He straightened up to see the Holy Sect Leader’s cold gaze fixed on him, hands behind his back. Hong Jie stammered, “Holy Sect Leader—”
Wei Zhao looked down at him, “It’s not even been half a month since your father passed, and you’re already eager to throw red flowers?”
Although Hong Jie revered this Holy Sect Leader like a deity, he still had the fearlessness of youth. He steeled himself and said, “We Yue Luo people don’t care about such things. We believe the deceased ascend to immortality, and the living should live well. Some even marry during the mourning period to comfort the spirits of the dead. If my father’s spirit is in heaven, he’d be happy to see me find my heart’s desire.”
Only then did Jiang Ci realize that this young man offering her the red flower was proposing marriage. Her face immediately turned crimson, and she turned away.
Wei Zhao glanced back at her, then looked at Hong Jie and said coldly, “She’s not from our Yue Luo Tribe. She’s from the Hua Dynasty. How can she be your bride?”
Hong Jie had accompanied Wei Zhao to the battle at Hu Tiao Shoal and personally witnessed Jiang Ci crossing the bridge alone and risking her life to warn them. The image of this girl with her melodious voice and extraordinary beauty was deeply etched in his mind.
Later, when he rushed back to Luo Feng Shoal to find his father tragically killed, he was plunged into extreme grief. Yet, he also secretly felt grateful to this girl for allowing him to return to Luo Feng Shoal in time, ensuring his father’s remains were not lost.
The Yue Luo Tribe had no custom of avoiding marriage during mourning. With this girl in his heart, he confided in several companions. Encouraged by them, he finally mustered the courage on New Year’s Day to present Jiang Ci with the red flower symbolizing a marriage proposal.
Now, hearing the Holy Sect Leader say she was from Hua Dynasty, he looked bewildered and stammered, “If she’s from Hua Dynasty, then why… why did she help us Yue Luo people?”
Wei Zhao swept his sleeve, sending the red flower flying off the high platform. He looked at Hong Jie, “Let me ask you, now that you know she’s from Hua Dynasty, do you still want to propose to her?”
Hong Jie’s face alternated between pale and flushed, his expression changing several times. Finally, gritting his teeth, he picked up the fallen red flower and once again presented it to Jiang Ci. He said loudly, “I don’t care who she is. I only know that she’s like a fairy from the moon palace, both kind and beautiful. She risked her life to save tens of thousands of our Yue Luo people. I still want to marry her as my bride!”
Wei Zhao gazed at Hong Jie for a long time, finally letting out a cold laugh. He forcefully pulled up Jiang Ci, who was sitting in her chair with a crimson face, and leaped off the high platform, disappearing into the darkness.
Hong Jie stared blankly at the red flower in his hand, then looked in the direction where the two had vanished, utterly dejected.
Jiang Ci’s cheeks were burning as Wei Zhao pulled her along, running rapidly. Even using all her Yuan Power, she still couldn’t keep up with his speed. After running for a while, she called out urgently, “Third Lord!”
Wei Zhao suddenly stopped and let go. Jiang Ci was caught off guard, stumbled forward, and nearly fell, steadying herself by grabbing a large tree by the roadside.
Wei Zhao said nothing, a suffocating atmosphere surrounding Jiang Ci. Her heart pounding, she waved her hands anxiously, “Third Lord, it’s not my fault, really not—”
Seeing her flustered state, Wei Zhao suddenly burst into laughter. After laughing, he walked around Jiang Ci with his hands behind his back, saying languidly, “You say it’s not your fault, but why did Young Lord fall for you, and now even Hong Jie—”
Jiang Ci felt her scalp tingling under his gaze. Hearing him mention Pei Yan, she felt an indescribable depression and melancholy. She glared at him and silently walked towards “Xue Mei Courtyard.”
Wei Zhao caught up and walked beside her. After observing her expression, he said no more.
In the capital, since the Lantern Festival, the eastern and western markets had been lit throughout the night. On this day, the Emperor’s birthday, fireworks were set off throughout the city. The imperial palace was especially resplendent with lights, filled with the sound of delicate music, bustling with activity, and an atmosphere of peace and prosperity.
At dusk on this day, officials of the fifth rank and above, all dressed in court robes and official hats, entered the palace in single file to kowtow three times and bow nine times to the Emperor, wishing him longevity.
As the Empress had passed away five years ago and the Emperor had not appointed a new one, the titled ladies of the third rank and above, dressed in their formal attire, entered Yu Fang Palace to pay respects to Imperial Noble Consort Gao, jointly celebrating the Emperor’s birthday.
In front of Qian Qing Gate, Jiang Yuanyuan, the newly appointed Commander of the Imperial Guard who had been in office for less than half a year, stood like a mountain, his handsome face solemn, holding a sword and watching every court official entering the palace.
Since taking office, Jiang Yuan had been diligent in his duties, reorganizing the previously somewhat disorganized Imperial Guard. Being mature for his age and the second son of the late Marquis Su Hai, he maintained good relationships with various department officials and noble families in the capital, earning widespread praise in the court.
Coincidentally, during these few months, Wei Zhao, the Commander of Guang Ming Si, had returned to Yu Jian Manor to visit his family. The Emperor had temporarily assigned Jiang Yuan to oversee Guang Ming Si as well, intending to return the defense duties to Wei Zhao upon his return to the capital.
Seeing Minister Dong’s official sedan chair approaching from afar, Jiang Yuan hurried forward to personally lift the curtain. Minister Dong alighted from the sedan, smiling as he patted the back of Jiang Yuan’s hand, “I heard your elder brother has come to the capital to see the Emperor. Help me pass on a message, tell him I invite him to my residence for drinks tomorrow evening. Please ask the Marquis Su Hai to honor us with his presence.”
Jiang Yuan bowed deeply, “Minister Dong is too kind. I will certainly pass on the message.”
Minister Dong chuckled, “You should come too. My wife and your mother are close friends. She wants to see you. She even held you when you were born.”
Jiang Yuan smiled and agreed, then escorted Minister Dong through Qian Qing Gate.
On the west side, at Jia Le Gate, a purple-curtained carriage slowly approached and stopped. A pair of delicate hands lifted the carriage curtain, and a gaze like flowing water was cast towards Qian Qing Gate, then gently lowered the curtain again.
After escorting Minister Dong through Qian Qing Gate, Jiang Yuan had just turned around when he heard a commotion coming from the direction of Jia Le Gate.
Jiang Yuan frowned slightly. Today was the Emperor’s birthday, and titled ladies of the third rank and above needed to enter the palace to pay respects to the Imperial Noble Consort, all entering and exiting through Jia Le Gate on the west side of Qian Qing Gate. These titled ladies were not to be offended, some being the family members of current prominent officials. If anything went wrong, it would be difficult to explain to the Emperor.
He led several Guang Ming Si guards from Qian Qing Gate and saw a purple-curtained carriage stopped in front of Jia Le Gate. The Guang Ming Si guards at Jia Le Gate were arguing with a maid in front of the carriage, seemingly because the person inside refused to alight and allow the guards to check for prohibited items.
Seeing that the carriage was for a first-rank titled lady, Jiang Yuan said in a deep voice, “What’s going on?”
A Guang Ming Si guard bowed and reported, “Commander Jiang, it’s Madam Rong Guo. We’re just following the rules, sir.”
Jiang Yuan’s heart skipped a beat. Madam Rong Guo was Minister Pei’s mother, known for her reclusive lifestyle. On her fortieth birthday, he had also gone to the minister’s residence to offer congratulations. The Emperor had personally bestowed a first-rank title and precious gifts, showing great imperial favor, which left a deep impression on him. Although Minister Pei was currently recuperating from injuries at Chang Feng Mountain Villa, having relinquished his military and political power, it was still unknown whether he would make a comeback and return to court. Madam Rong Guo was not someone to be offended.
He waved off his subordinates and stepped forward steadily, his voice carrying both respect and solemnity, “Imperial Guard Commander Jiang Yuan humbly requests Madam Rong Guo to alight from the carriage. Please, Madam, adhere to the palace rules.”
The carriage curtain remained motionless. Jiang Yuan focused his hearing and detected the extremely faint but steady breathing of the person inside.
He could only maintain a smile and speak again, “This humble servant has the Emperor’s orders. I beg your pardon. Please, Madam Rong Guo, alight from the carriage to allow the guards to follow palace procedures.”
The curtain still didn’t move. Jiang Yuan’s brow furrowed slightly. Just as he was about to speak again, he suddenly heard an extremely soft and melodious voice from inside the carriage, unlike that of a forty-year-old woman, more like a girl in her late teens: “Shu Xia.”
“Yes, Madam,” the blue-clad maid in front of the carriage responded sweetly and walked to the curtain.
The curtain lifted slightly, and a delicate hand wearing a green jade bracelet emerged from the soft curtain, handing something out. The maid Shu Xia received it with both hands.
Jiang Yuan’s gaze fixed on this hand. The snow-white wrist and slender fingers, with the green jade bracelet gently trembling, resembled dewdrops rolling on a green lotus leaf. Just as it seemed about to slip away and disappear behind the curtain, he unconsciously moved his right hand slightly. Then he saw the maid Shu Xia presenting a jade seal before him.
Jiang Yuan came to his senses and looked closely at the seal, then quickly knelt: “Respectfully seeing Madam into the palace!”