As soon as she entered the room, Yao Ying smelled a strong scent of wine. Li Zhongqian lay diagonally on the wooden couch by the fireplace near the window, his long legs bent, his animal-skin boots resting on a wine jar, a wine pouch clutched in his hand, his phoenix eyes gazing distantly at the tightly closed window.

Yao Ying walked past the overturned wine jars on the floor and took the wine pouch from his hand, sniffing it. “This is this year’s new Golden Amber wine. It’s mild—you won’t get drunk from it.”

Li Zhongqian kicked away the wine jar: “Who wants to get drunk? If I get drunk, you’ll just lecture me again.”

Yao Ying smiled slightly, “Princess Banar is waiting outside. You’re watching her from in here—why not invite her in?”

“Let her wait. After waiting a few times, she won’t come anymore.”

Yao Ying made a sound of acknowledgment, took off her cloak, rolled up her sleeves, and began organizing the carelessly piled documents on the table. She lifted the copper kettle from the stove and expertly found a bag of black rice with firm grains.

This rice was first thoroughly soaked in juice, then steamed and dried, steamed and dried again, repeated nine times until each grain was crystalline, with a rich, oily taste. The Western Army often needed to make long-distance raids, and many soldiers weren’t accustomed to drinking horse blood and eating raw horse meat like the Northern Rong people. This year’s locally grown black rice had a good harvest. She had people dry quite a lot—the soldiers loved it as it was easy to carry, could be preserved for a long time, was delicious, and could quickly replenish energy.

She poured the boiling water into a bowl, prepared a bowl of black rice porridge, and handed it to Li Zhongqian.

“Stop drinking. Eat something to warm your stomach.”

Li Zhongqian looked at the glossy grains in the bowl. “Why aren’t you urging me to let her in?”

Yao Ying replied calmly: “Brother will let her in when he’s ready.”

Li Zhongqian’s mouth twisted: “What if I never come around?”

“Then I especially can’t take matters into my own hands.”

Li Zhongqian rubbed his brow, turned over to sit up, and took the bowl and spoon, eating the black rice in large mouthfuls.

Princess Banar wanted to marry him.

He had never thought about taking a wife.

When he was young, he had curiously asked his uncle: “Uncle, why haven’t you married?”

Xie Wuliang patted his head, “Uncle is too busy.”

Later, the chancellor told him that even though Xie Wuliang passed by his home without entering all year round, many young ladies were willing to marry him. He didn’t marry not because he was too busy, but because he knew his body was weak, and living in troubled times, he could die on the battlefield at any moment. He didn’t want to waste a young lady’s youth.

Li Zhongqian hadn’t thought about marriage. Before, it was because, like his uncle, he didn’t want to burden a wife. After coming to Xi Province, even without those concerns, he still didn’t want to marry.

Li De and Lady Tang, Li De and Xie Manyuan… They had all been sweetly in love once, but later grew apart as husband and wife, their faces twisted with mutual hatred. Once the closest of bedfellows, in the end, Li De showed no mercy to Xie Manyuan, and Lady Tang cursed him with her dying breath.

No matter how passionate the love, it couldn’t withstand the passage of time.

He was different from Yao Ying.

Yao Ying deeply understood that evil existed everywhere in this world, and she had been deeply hurt, but she still believed in the world’s beauty. The entanglements between Li De, Lady Tang, and Xie Manyuan didn’t affect her outlook—when she liked someone, she liked them wholeheartedly.

He didn’t have such pure affection.

Dallying among flowers, the pleasure between men and women, for him was merely physical enjoyment. From the beginning, both parties understood they were just a fleeting romance, willing participants who wouldn’t drag things out.

If Banar only sought a few moments of pleasure, he wouldn’t refuse, but she wanted to marry him.

Someone like him wasn’t suited for marriage.

“How is Luojia treating you? Does a monk know how to be a good husband?” he asked suddenly, holding his bowl of black rice.

Yao Ying smiled: “He treats me very well.”

Li Zhongqian’s lips curved slightly.

…

When Yao Ying came out of the room, Banar was still waiting in the snow, her cheeks red from the cold, giving her a deep bow.

When the Western Allied Forces recaptured Yi Province, Yao Ying had forbidden the tribal soldiers from abusing the Northern Rong palace women—Banar was very grateful to her.

Yao Ying draped her cloak over Banar’s shoulders, saying: “Princess, please come with me.”

Banar looked up at the tightly closed window, sighed in frustration, and followed Yao Ying.

The fire crackled in the stove.

Yao Ying watched Banar drink a large bowl of medicine to prevent cold, and asked directly, “How did the Princess meet my brother?”

“We met in Northern Rong.”

“Did the Princess save my brother?”

Banar shook her head, holding the medicine bowl: “Aynur, I didn’t save Li Zhongqian—Li Zhongqian saved me.”

Yao Ying showed surprise.

Banar put down the bowl, smiled at her, and slowly said: “At that time, Li Zhongqian was hiding among the Northern Rong slaves, looking for a chance to escape. That night, Tali helped cover for him. He snuck out of the camp while the guards were dozing and accidentally encountered the Third Prince trying to take advantage of me…”

At this point, anger flashed across her face.

She was the daughter raised by Khan Wakhan, and would certainly have to marry one of his sons. The Third Prince coveted her beauty and wanted her as his concubine.

The Third Prince was crude, and she firmly refused. The Third Prince wouldn’t give up and secretly bribed her slave to lure her out of the camp, planning to force her compliance through fait accompli.

“The guards outside the camp had been sent away by the Third Prince. I was very scared… Li Zhongqian was hiding in the stable at the time. He saw me being dragged away by the Third Prince but didn’t reveal himself.”

Li Zhongqian was disguising himself as a slave—if he intervened to save someone, he might get entangled in trouble and be unable to escape.

“My brother ended up stepping in?” From Banar’s tone, the Third Prince clearly hadn’t succeeded.

Banar nodded: “Li Zhongqian didn’t want to get involved and had already quietly left, but after a while, he came back… Does the Princess know why he came back?”

Yao Ying shook her head.

Yao Ying was slightly stunned.

Banar continued: “Li Zhongqian rushed in, grabbed the Third Prince by the neck, almost twisting his head off. The Third Prince feared the commotion would alert others and ran away.”

That night, Li Zhongqian nearly beat the Third Prince to death, looking as fierce and terrifying as a demon crawling out of hell.

He stood before the still-shocked Banar and asked: “Where is your brother? Why didn’t he come to save you?”

Banar wiped her tears: “He’s dead.”

Her father and brothers had all died fighting for Khan Wakhan, which was why she could be adopted as his daughter. She had no other relatives. When scared, she instinctively called for her brother. Her mother had been a Han person captured and taken to the grasslands, and she and her brother had learned to speak Han since childhood.

Later when she learned Li Zhongqian’s purpose for coming to Northern Rong, she suddenly understood—the reason Li Zhongqian had risked danger to save her was that her hysterical cries for help had reminded him of his sister.

Princess Wenzhao had fallen into Haidu Aling’s hands, and no one knew what had happened to her.

“At first, I didn’t know Li Zhongqian was a Wei Dynasty prince,” Banar added some coal to the stove. “The day after he saved me, the Third Prince’s injuries were too severe to hide. Khan Wakhan sent people to comfort me, saying the Third Prince deserved it, and asked who had injured him. A slave daring to hurt a noble, even if it was to save me, had to be punished.”

She lifted her chin: “Of course I wouldn’t betray my savior!”

No matter how the Third Prince’s mother tried to coax or threaten her, Banar wouldn’t identify Li Zhongqian. The Chief Consort flew into a rage and slandered her to Khan Wakhan, demanding she be married off to a tribal chief within ten days. That tribe had just lost half its young men in the great war, and the chief was nearly fifty years old. Khan Wakhan had been worried about how to pacify the tribe.

Banar still firmly refused to reveal who had saved her.

She bit her lip. “The Chief Consort forced me to marry, I was very scared, but I couldn’t betray Li Zhongqian. I prepared my wedding clothes…”

He was filthy and stinking, his hair matted and face grimy, unrecognizable, kneeling outside the Third Prince’s felt tent. The Prince’s attendants beat him half to death. He lay in the mud, not making a sound, not moving an inch, letting them kick and beat him.

Banar ran crying to Khan Wakhan’s great tent to beg for mercy. The old Khan spared Li Zhongqian. He limped away without even looking at Banar, as if his beating had nothing to do with her.

At night, Banar went to check on him. His old wounds had reopened and he had fallen unconscious. Tali was secretly caring for him.

Banar went to see Li Zhongqian every day, secretly bringing him medicine and food, sometimes helping Tali look after him.

Li Zhongqian was very cold and never spoke to her.

Banar persisted in visiting him, gradually suspecting he wasn’t an ordinary slave, and that he might be the Han person Khan Wakhan was looking for.

“I can help you leave here,” she told Li Zhongqian. “I’m the Khan’s adopted daughter. I can request to have you by my side. As my guard, you won’t need to hide anymore.”

Li Zhongqian refused her help.

At that time, Banar couldn’t understand no matter how hard she thought: why wouldn’t he let her help him?

Tali had the same question.

That day, Banar went quietly to visit Li Zhongqian and heard Tali giving him advice: “Young Master, Princess Banar seems to like you very much. Young Master might as well use this—Khan Wakhan still shows some consideration for the Princess.”

Li Zhongqian said flatly: “Don’t let her come anymore.”

Tali hesitantly asked, “Does Young Master dislike Princess Banar?”

Banar stood outside the earthen wall, her heart pounding.

She suddenly realized she was very afraid Li Zhongqian would give an affirmative answer!

…

With a crisp crack, the coals in the stove sizzled.

Banar awakened from her memories, and smiled at Yao Ying: “Li Zhongqian didn’t say he disliked me. He said something very strange to Tali.”

Banar said word by word: “He said, I was just an unrelated person, and he didn’t want me to follow in his mother’s footsteps.”

At the time, Banar didn’t understand what this meant. Thinking Li Zhongqian really disliked her, she left heartbroken.

Only after seeing the mentally ill Xie Manyuan at the temple did she understand Li Zhongqian’s meaning.

She liked Li Zhongqian even more.

Banar lifted her face to look at Yao Ying: “Aynur, when you asked how I met Li Zhongqian, were you trying to persuade me that Li Zhongqian doesn’t like me, that I should give up?”

Without waiting for Yao Ying to answer, she smiled, her eyes reflecting the bright firelight from the stove.

“With Northern Rong’s destruction, I no longer face the Third Prince’s covetousness, and I’ve lost my princess status. Princess Yiqing was taken back to the Central Plains by you, Princess. I didn’t want to go to the Central Plains, so I came to Xi Province…”

“Princess, Li Zhongqian is the strongest and bravest man I’ve ever met. I like him and want to have his children. He doesn’t dislike me—I can tell. Right now, he has no woman he wants to marry, and there are no obstacles between us… The gods have given me another chance, I want to try.”

Only after trying would she have the right to give up.

She was one of Northern Rong’s greatest beauties. If she liked Li Zhongqian, she would say so, not fearing ridicule.

Even if he remained unmoved in the end, at least she would have tried.

“I’ve heard many stories about the Buddhist Prince and the Princess,” Banar looked at Yao Ying, her eyes shining. “The Princess and Buddhist Prince faced hardships fearlessly, finally moving the gods to allow them to become husband and wife. I want to be brave like the Princess!”

Yao Ying’s lips twitched almost imperceptibly.

She was certain that half the stories and legends Banar had heard were unknown even to her.

Like the recent rumor in Xi Province that she had cried until the entire Holy City collapsed for Tanmoluojia, allowing Luojia to find her true inner strength method and return from death.

Banar wiped her face, spirits lifted: “The fiercest horses belong to the bravest warriors. To move the strongest man, one must be like taming a horse—whoever prevails gets to have his children!”

Yao Ying: …

Why did she suddenly feel Princess Banar’s purpose in marrying her brother was just to have his children?

…

Yao Ying shook her head, “If Brother really doesn’t want to see her, she won’t be able to get in… As for Princess Banar and Brother’s matter, don’t interfere too much, don’t join in the excitement, don’t pry—just let nature take its course.”

…

In the following days, Yao Ying continued receiving various tribal chiefs, mediating conflicts between tribes with friction, urging wealthy clans with large tracts of land to plant grain varieties cultivated by agricultural officials, personally inspecting newly built horse farms, having guards test-ride fine horses bought from Persia, and occasionally making appearances at banquets.

The guards would occasionally report to her about Li Zhongqian’s situation: Banar made Li Zhongqian a fur coat, but he didn’t accept it.

While Yao Ying ate, Yuan Jue said from beside her: “Is the King eating too?”

When she picked up her brush to write a letter, he quickly helped lay out the paper: “Is the Queen writing to the King?”

When she met chiefs at the temple, he whispered to others, “These monks’ preaching can’t compare to the King’s. When our King preaches, even the temple hawks perch quietly on their stands to listen…”

Yao Ying turned to look at him.

Yuan Jue looked proud: “Queen, you think so too, right?”

Li Zhongqian rolled his eyes: “If you miss your King so much, why not return to the royal court first?”

Yuan Jue hurriedly stepped back several paces, respectfully saying: “This humble one must serve at the Queen’s side.”

Li Zhongqian smiled without humor.

Yuan Jue dared not say more.

Finally, at the end of the month, Yuan Jue immediately became energetic, subtly reminding Yao Ying it was time to depart: “Queen, they’ve started packing the trunks. Please check if anything’s been missed?”

Yao Ying finished handling her affairs and set out to return to the royal court. After reaching Sha City, she told the others to proceed slowly while she rode quickly back to the Holy City on horseback.

It was just over a month, but it felt like a long time had passed. Outside the Holy City lay vast expanses of white snow.

The Imperial Guards at the city gate were astonished to see Yao Ying appear outside the gate with dawn clouds on her shoulders, and hurriedly raised welcoming banners: “The Queen has returned!”

Yao Ying gestured for them not to alert others and returned directly to the palace. Just as she stepped onto the long stairs, someone walking down met her face to face, saw her, stared blankly, and hurriedly bowed.

“The Queen has returned?”

Yao Ying made a sound of acknowledgment and walked quickly inside. She hadn’t mentioned in her letter to Tanmoluojia that she was deliberately returning early, and had instructed Yuan Jue not to let it slip.

While she was still planning how to surprise Luojia, Pisuo scratched his head: “Queen, the King is not in the palace.”

Yao Ying’s steps halted: “Has he gone to the temple?”

Pisuo laughed, slapping his thigh, and shook his head: “The King missed the Queen and, knowing the Queen was returning, left the city this morning to welcome the Queen back.”

Tanmoluojia’s reason was very sound: the snow was too heavy, and he was worried Yao Ying might be blocked by the snowstorm on the road, so he wanted to bring people to help.

Tanmoluojia seemed not to hear at all, looked at the sky, and the guard commander outside came to report that the horses and carriages were ready.

Yao Ying didn’t know whether to laugh or cry: she wanted to return early to give Tanmoluojia a surprise, had everyone keep it from him, but unexpectedly Luojia had already set out to welcome her!

She turned and left immediately, mounted her horse, left the Holy City, and rested at a post station for the night. Yuan Jue urged her to return to the Holy City to wait for Tanmoluojia’s return, but she shook her head. She wanted to see him now, couldn’t wait even a moment.

The next day was brilliantly clear. Yao Ying continued galloping toward Sha City, hoofbeats echoing across the endless snowy plains.

Suddenly, several dim shadows raced from the west in the distance, their hoofbeats thundering like lightning.

Yao Ying spurred her horse forward to meet them. As the shadows drew closer, she saw the lead rider wearing snow-white gold-embroidered brocade robes, his figure tall and straight, his clothes fluttering in the wind.

Looking at him, she couldn’t help but smile.

He gazed at her, backlit, his jade eyes appearing dark and deep.

With thundering hooves shaking the snowy ground, the black horse galloped up to Yao Ying, stirring up a rush of air. Before it had fully stopped, the rider reached out to grip her waist and pulled her entirely onto his horse, holding her tight.

Yao Ying hugged his waist, breathing in his agarwood scent.

“My lord, I’ve returned.”

Tanmoluojia lowered his head and kissed her crown.