In late September of the fourteenth year of Changxi, the Battle of White Head Cliff erupted, shocking the entire realm. Wei Zhi led over ten thousand Shunyi iron cavalry, traversing White Head Mountain and forcing a crossing of White Spirit Marsh. With coordinated attacks from within and without, they launched a night raid on the Great Yue main camp. Moving dark as a blade, charging fierce as a spear point, one against ten, they crashed boldly into the panicked Yue army. The long sabers of the Shunyi cavalry reflected the moonlight and dripped with blood as they cut through the chaotic, seething ten-mile military encampment. Wherever they passed, countless corpses fell.
That night, they slew eleven enemy generals, wounded thirty thousand, and captured twenty thousand—the greatest victory since the war began.
This was also the most powerful and crucial great victory since Tiansheng’s defeat half a year ago. Because of this victory, Tiansheng pressed their advantage, consecutively recovering lost territory. The Great Yue forces, having lost troops and generals, had no choice but to withdraw their camps and retreat into the border city of Pucheng. The outcome of this war between Tiansheng and Great Yue, which had dragged on for over a year, was now essentially decided.
The Battle of White Head Cliff brought forth a group of outstanding young commanders. Among them, Chunyu Meng, Yao Yangyu, Yu Liang, and Huang Baozi—who had led the iron cavalry in forcing the crossing of White Spirit Marsh—these scions of the Imperial Capital’s noble class, formerly idle young masters of Qingming, displayed supreme courage and military talent after joining the army, washing away the stain on the Imperial Capital’s wealthy youth. After the battle, the young commanders of the Shunyi cavalry were successively dispatched to important positions in various armies. These rising military stars illuminated Emperor Tiansheng’s inner desire to unify the realm, and also lit up the eyes of ambitious young men throughout Tiansheng. For a long time afterward, a fever for military service appeared among the noble youth of the Imperial Capital.
When commoners learned of the great victory at the front, they rejoiced and celebrated, sweeping away the previous days’ anxious gloom. For days on end, those who came to the Guardian Temple of National Gratitude to burn incense and fulfill vows formed an endless stream. Three sticks of clear incense: the first wish for peace throughout the realm, the second wish for the war’s swift conclusion, the third wish for the heroic souls who died on the battlefield to find early rest.
That joy written in their eyes, those songs of celebration filling the streets.
Yet none of it could reach into the resplendent palace halls or the vast borderlands.
In the Tiansheng palace, the palace servants came and went with light, quick steps and smiles at the corners of their mouths. But the Emperor of Tiansheng’s imperial study had its doors tightly closed. The increasingly aged Son of Heaven carefully reviewed some archived documents from last year that he’d just ordered the Records Office to retrieve. The topmost one was titled “Two Strategies for Pacifying Yue,” written in elegant, upright calligraphy.
The Emperor of Tiansheng carefully reread that memorial for a long while, then picked up his brush and wrote at the end: “Great Yue is about to fall, the time is ripe. These Two Strategies for Pacifying Yue are truly excellent policies demonstrating Minister Wei’s virtue and reason. The Cabinet may mark this in red and issue instructions for implementation in several border provinces.”
An inner attendant respectfully received it, placed it in a golden case, and delivered it to the Haoyun Pavilion of the Cabinet.
The Emperor of Tiansheng sat motionless, thinking of that memorial just now, his gaze lingering again and again on a military report before him.
After a long while, he sighed.
“What a pity…”
In the Tiansheng main camp at the northern border, soldiers were happily packing and preparing to depart. With hostilities temporarily concluded and Great Yue currently unable to continue fighting, and the weather having already turned cold, the Tiansheng army would withdraw to Dezhou and Yuzhou in the rear.
Yet the supervising commander’s main tent showed no activity. As soldiers came and went, they all cast puzzled glances toward it.
Although hostilities had temporarily concluded, they’d heard that His Highness the Supervisor had requested permission from His Majesty to remain temporarily at the northern border to guard against any underhanded moves by Great Yue, and His Majesty had agreed.
Not returning to the Imperial Capital’s world of flowers and pleasures, but insisting on staying at the northern border—no one knew what this highness was thinking.
No lamps were lit inside the main tent. The curtains were drawn tight, and all objects were shrouded in gray shadows, their outlines indistinct.
The figure at the table supported his forehead with his elbow, sitting alone through the long night, unaware of time’s passage, not knowing if it was night or day.
Wind slipped through gaps in the tent, lifting a thin military report on the table—the same one that lay before the Emperor of Tiansheng.
A few sparse words wrote out the sacrifice and sorrow behind the glory.
“Battle of White Head Cliff: Three hundred death warriors of Shunyi penetrated the cliff into the Yue army’s main camp, slaying eleven generals and thirty-six sentries, laying the foundation for great victory. Later surrounded by Yue forces, over one hundred sixty death warriors perished, all killed in action. Their corpses were hacked apart by random blades, mangled beyond recognition… Lieutenant Hua Qiong and Vice-General in Command Wei Zhi, deceased.”
Great Yue, twentieth year of Dehua, winter, Pucheng.
This was one of Great Yue’s border cities that was comparatively most prosperous and flourishing. So after the Yue army’s withdrawal, they stationed their forces outside the city. Though defeated, the Yue army had retreated in good order—they merely couldn’t hide the dejection and melancholy in their expressions.
Early in the morning, the gates of Pucheng, shrouded in thin mist, were already crowded with commoners waiting to enter the city. The hour was still early, with a quarter-hour yet before the gates would open. People waited patiently, constantly whispering to each other.
“I heard there was a great defeat at the front!”
“That’s right, the troops have all withdrawn.”
“They say victory was originally assured, but the other side produced a formidable general who night-raided the main camp. Ten against one—ten thousand men actually slaughtered our hundred thousand!”
“Don’t exaggerate! How’s that possible? Killing ten thousand would be impressive. What I heard was that it was the Huzhuo tribe’s iron cavalry from Tiansheng—they’re famously fierce. The Huzhuo tribe’s elite were wiped out by our highness’s stratagem some time ago, so this was their revenge.”
“They rallied so quickly, and even fiercer than before. The Huzhuo tribe’s great king must be very formidable.”
“We shouldn’t have provoked those grassland savages in the first place. But I also heard that the one who actually led the Huzhuo cavalry was a Tiansheng commander.”
“Who was it? So ruthless? Our highness is such a brilliant and wise figure, yet he still fell to this person’s hands!”
“Dead! Supposedly the battle was brutal enough. The first wave that raided the camp got trapped—over ten thousand men surrounded that group. At Prince An’s feet piled up over a hundred corpses. For some reason, those people wouldn’t retreat even one step, dying to the last man. Even our side grew weary of killing. They say that general was among them and couldn’t bear to see his subordinates sacrificed in vain, so he wept over the corpses and said, ‘My brothers’ bones pile up like mountains—how can I alone survive!’ Right then and there he slit his own throat and committed suicide. Look, don’t you see? His head’s hanging on the city gate.”
Everyone looked up and saw two severed heads swaying in the wind at Pucheng’s city gate, black hair covering their faces, blood all over, their original features unrecognizable. One could only sense they were very young.
The commoners gazed with complicated feelings for a long while, shaking their heads. After a moment, someone muttered in a low voice: “What a pity. In the end, he was also a hero, yet he ended up with his corpse incomplete…”
“Silence!” Someone immediately scolded. “That’s an enemy commander!”
The crowd fell quiet. Those making idle talk dispersed. No one noticed several plainly dressed men hidden in the shadows—one whose body trembled slightly, another who clenched his fists.
Further away, inside a carriage, someone leaned against the wall, quietly listening to this idle conversation.
The sunlight and shadows were divided by the carriage curtain, rendering this person’s features indistinct. He lifted the curtain and looked up at the severed heads on the city gate.
He looked for a very long time, very seriously, as if he wanted to carve those heads—whose features couldn’t be seen clearly from such a distance—into his heart.
After a long while, he shook his head and smiled without any mirth.
“Is it you…”
A faint, uncertain question echoed in the carriage.
No one answered. Since that year’s heavy snow, he no longer needed anyone else to answer all his questions.
“If it really is you, how could you say those words ‘My brothers’ bones pile up like mountains—how can I alone survive’? How could you bear to slit your throat and commit suicide? You would say ‘Brothers, go ahead and die, I’ll remember to avenge you.’ You would swap the throat-slitting blade for a retractable one, then slit someone else’s throat when they came to check.”
“That would be you… Zhiwei.”
His fingers lightly tapped the carriage wall. He revealed a faint smile, somewhat cool, like moonflowers blooming on water.
“Feng Zhiwei.”
“Before I die, how could you bear to die?”
More and more people gathered before the city gate. In the distance, however, a group came galloping swiftly, with banners bearing the character “An” flying at the front.
The commoners hastily made way, all knowing that Prince An’s highness had arrived.
Though greatly defeated at the front and forced to withdraw, this highness’s imperial favor seemed undiminished. The Emperor of Great Yue had changed the supreme commander but hadn’t removed Jin Siyu. With the army stationed in Pucheng near the border, it appeared this imperial prince harbored resentment over the defeat at White Head Mountain and intended to recover his strength here, waiting to fight again next year.
The convoy galloped past. The city gates opened early, and commoners all around knelt in welcome.
Several people seemed slow in their movements. The guards clearing the way cast unfriendly glances at them. People beside those men quickly pulled them down, and the men dropped to their knees with a crisp thud as their kneecaps struck the ground.
“So they’re idiots.” A trace of contempt flashed through the eyes of Prince An’s guard captain. Without looking back, he galloped past.
Several men mixed in the crowd raised their heads, watching the long convoy. They first glanced at Prince An’s gold-inlaid, jade-encrusted carriage, then their eyes fell on the last two carriages.
Those two carriages also looked ordinary—typical Great Yue carriage style—except they were guarded particularly closely. The four corners were wrapped in iron, the horizontal doors bolted, the windows with curtains tightly drawn, not even a person’s shadow visible.
The several men exchanged glances.
One man’s sleeve moved.
A black shadow flashed on the ground. Immediately someone cried out in alarm: “Ah! There’s a snake!”
The crowd instantly became chaotic and jostled each other, jumping and dodging. One of the men was pushed and shoved, actually squeezed out of the side path and rolling toward the carriage wheels!
The crowd cried out in unison.
The man rolled under the carriage wheel, seemingly very flustered, waving his limbs and shouting. His arms struck the bottom of the carriage with loud bangs. He reached out to grab the carriage edge, trying to steady himself.
Vaguely, a dark gleam seemed to flash in the man’s arm bend.
As the dark gleam flashed, there was another strange sound from somewhere. A roadside stall selling used clothes was knocked apart, clothes rolling all over the ground. The stall owner shouted and rushed over to gather the garments, heedless of his hands being crushed, thrusting them under the bottom of the carriage to retrieve them.
The man who’d rolled under the carriage and this stall owner—their arms met under the carriage bottom.
Then they separated.
The carriage stopped. Guards from the front galloped over. The man crawled out from under the carriage looking disheveled, cursing loudly: “Which turtle’s son pushed me! Nearly got crushed to death!”
The stall owner clutched his scattered clothes, bowing and scraping with an apologetic smile to Prince An’s guards. “Sirs… this humble one was also pushed down. Forgive me, forgive me…”
Prince An’s guards coldly shoved both men aside. “Get lost!”
Orders came from ahead indicating no delays and to continue forward. The carriages galloped past. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, following them into the city and dispersing.
That green-clothed man who’d rolled under the carriage dusted off his clothes and merged with several other men. They bought some sesame cakes at a tavern entrance and squatted under the eaves to eat, looking just like those men selling their labor.
“What happened just now?” asked a man in wide robes and black clothing.
“Someone blocked me.” The green-clothed man spoke in a low voice. His voice was deep, and his eyes seemed not very good, crusted with eye discharge, making it impossible to see what his eyes looked like. As he spoke, he uncomfortably raised his hand to rub his eyes, but upon meeting the other person’s gaze, quickly stopped. Then he smiled sheepishly and said, “I’m really not used to this…”
“What was the other party’s background? Why would they block you?”
“When he stopped me from splitting open the carriage bottom with my blade, he only said one thing: ‘It’s not her—don’t alert them.’ I heard his tone was sincere, and I also felt something was wrong. The object in that carriage seemed too heavy. So I held back. I couldn’t make out the other party’s background, but they seemed to have no hostile intent. You know, right now various parties don’t believe that news and are trying to rescue her—we’re not the only ones.”
The wide-robed, black-clothed man made a sound of acknowledgment and said nothing more. A person beside him, wearing coarse, wretched yellow cloth garments, squatted there as if covered in lice, constantly shaking out his clothes, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. He paid no attention to their conversation, suddenly plucking a leaf from a nearby tree and saying: “It’s here too.”
Then he folded the leaf repeatedly and brought it to his lips to blow. The sound was faint, drowned in the noisy marketplace sounds.
The several men beside him all fell silent, quietly watching him. But he only concentrated on blowing, as if he intended to blow tirelessly forever.
The men listened and listened, listening until they almost couldn’t bear it anymore and were about to stop him, when he finally lowered the leaf and said softly: “Blowing the flute, I’ll find you.”
The green-clothed man with crusted eyes suddenly turned his head away.
Another man in wide robes and large sleeves, with an ordinary yellow face, stared at those severed heads on the city gate, his gaze thoughtful. The green-clothed man waved his hand dismissively: “What are you looking at? Stop looking!”
He resolutely turned his head, as if showing that by not looking at those heads, the things didn’t exist.
The yellow-clothed youth bent his head, slowly eating his sesame cake, and said: “It’s not her.”
The green-clothed man became interested and moved closer to ask: “How do you know it’s not?”
The yellow-clothed youth slapped him away.
“I’m not talking about this…” The wide-robed, black-clothed man looked thoughtfully at those heads and said, “Have you considered—if she’s not dead, why would Jin Siyu do this? If she’s not dead, why hasn’t her identity been exposed? What exactly happened that night?”
At this question, both men fell silent. After a long while, the green-clothed man said with difficulty: “I… don’t know…”
The yellow-clothed youth stretched out his hand. The sesame cake in his palm suddenly crumbled to pieces. He stared blankly at the cake, then suddenly turned and faced the wall.
The green-clothed man showed a desperate expression, grabbed him and turned him around, hissing in his ear: “This isn’t Tiansheng, you’re not at her side. This is the enemy nation Great Yue, she’s still in danger, her life and death unknown! You need to act normal right now—speak fluently, do things normally! Even if you can’t, you must! Otherwise you’ll get us all killed, and that means killing her!”
His tone was severe. The wide-robed, black-clothed man listened, opened his mouth, and seemed about to intervene with some sympathy, but stopped halfway, reaching out his hand then letting it fall, and sighed.
The yellow-clothed youth didn’t seem angry, nor did he push away the green-clothed man. After thinking for a long while, he seriously raised his head and said: “If I’m normal, I can find her? If I don’t act like you all, I’ll get her killed?”
“Yes! You should talk like this!” The green-clothed man nodded vigorously, afraid that if he nodded too slowly, this fellow would become abnormal again.
The yellow-clothed youth squatted there thoughtfully. After a long while, he nodded and said: “She hopes I’ll come out of it. She said that if she saw me like that, she would be very happy to come out and see me.”
He spoke very slowly, with many pauses between sentences, as if he had to think carefully and with difficulty to completely articulate such a fluent, coherent sentence. But the two people across from him showed joy, exchanging glances. The wide-robed, black-clothed man couldn’t help murmuring: “Perhaps a blessing in disguise…”
“His entire world is only her. Without her, he can no longer be his former self.” The green-clothed man squatted there and snorted with some jealousy.
“Speaking of which, I’m also at fault.” The wide-robed, black-clothed man sighed. “I shouldn’t have left. Otherwise, how could you have fallen into the trap?”
“Stop it!” The green-clothed man said irritably. “Every mistake, ten thousand mistakes—the fault lies with me! My heart was too soft to accomplish things! Damn it, that old bastard from Dezhou actually had connections with the Yuzhou grain route. After Meiduo escaped, he put drugs in the new grain. Who would have thought that grain that had been fine all along would suddenly cause trouble? We hadn’t planned to use the new grain at all, but who knew we’d end up cooking that pot of porridge!”
“No one was at fault. It was just an unfortunate coincidence that led to this disaster. Little Yao nearly committed suicide in apology over this matter, and you’re all still dwelling on it. Why?” The wide-robed man said calmly. “Since it’s already happened, regret is useless. We can only make every effort to remedy it.”
“Damn it, why did she knock me unconscious, why did she knock me unconscious…” The green-clothed man still fumed, crushing his sesame cake until sesame seeds fell everywhere.
“She promised to protect you and your grasslands, so naturally she couldn’t let you take the risk.” The wide-robed man sighed. “Unfortunately, all the secret guards who followed her that night also died. Some things, we really can only know once we find her…”
All three fell silent, gazing in the direction the carriages had departed.
Where are you?
On this day in Pucheng, some sat in carriages, some squatted under eaves. People from all corners of the realm gathered because of one person, willing to endure wind and dew. Yet the person who made them endure wind and dew slept in a deep mansion’s brocade quilts.
The courtyard was “Pu Garden” in the eastern part of the city—painted beams and carved rafters, exquisite and elegant. It was the villa of the Liu family, Pucheng’s foremost household, recently contributed to serve as Prince An’s traveling palace.
Through heavy doors with pearl curtains, a tall figure passed swiftly, robes stirring the curtains and causing light and shadow to waver. Maids and servants by the corridor screen all bowed with lowered hands, retreating far away.
The figure headed straight for the third courtyard in the rear, turning and winding, passing through a discreet hanging-flower gateway, and stopping before a door.
“How is she?” Before pushing the door, he asked in a heavy voice the female medical official who came out to greet him.
The woman said in a low voice: “She should wake soon, but I don’t know what state she’ll be in after waking…” The man’s expression grew even more somber. After standing lost in thought for a while, he said: “Go down. Check on the other one. Take good care of her—don’t let anything go wrong.”
The medical woman took her orders and left. The man then lightly stepped into the room.
Inside burned calming incense, its scent clear and deep. On the soft couch beneath brocade quilts, a person slept. The quilt was pulled up to her chin, revealing a palm-sized face of refined, pure beauty.
The skin on that face was delicate, slightly pale, as if long deprived of sunlight. Both cheeks and temples bore small scratches. On her forehead was a scar, already sealed, showing a smooth, pale crescent shape that on her delicate forehead didn’t seem fierce but added several points of pitiable charm.
Only between her brows was a faint red mark, somewhat like blood stagnated within the skin.
Her breathing was even, as if immersed in sweet, carefree sleep.
The man gazed at her for a long while, thinking of that night amidst the chaotic firelight in the camp when this woman of unknown identity had suddenly burst forth. Probably a Tiansheng warrior—with a daughter’s body entering the military camp, yet more fierce than men. That night, surrounded by ten thousand yet her expression unchanged, beneath White Head Cliff she’d slain dozens of enemies, exhausted to the point of vomiting blood yet still smiling, her autumn-water soft eyes holding a resolute strength that made even men’s hearts move and spirits bend.
He carefully examined her face, pondering her identity. That night, many had died one after another trying to save her, showing her status was not low. Yet despite extensive inquiries using every means, he couldn’t determine her true identity. Instead, regarding the woman captured with her, someone had recognized her as the recently famous “Black Widow” Hua Qiong in Great Yue.
Seeing the life-and-death bond between Hua Qiong and her showed the relationship between the two women was extraordinary… The man knitted his brows, a vague, bold conjecture passing through his mind. It was precisely this conjecture that made him refrain from beheading the Black Widow whose hands were stained with the blood of countless Great Yue sons. Of course, he wouldn’t be willing to admit that actually, initially, it was only because he saw how tightly she clutched Hua Qiong’s hand before fainting, and his heart suddenly moved, which made him spare Hua Qiong’s life.
Who was she? His thoughts pressed on his heart like heavy clouds. The man’s face alternated between dark and light. Sunlight faintly illuminated him—though his brows and bearing were gentle with an elegant scholarly air, his eyes held a forest of alert wariness.
Prince An of Great Yue, Jin Siyu, faced the person on the couch, lost in deep thought.
The person on the bed moved restlessly, as if about to wake.
Jin Siyu immediately stood, opening a hidden door in the wall. Light penetrated the dark space, illuminating mottled walls, bloodstained torture implements, iron bars, rotted straw.
Beneath this richly luxurious inner chamber, there was actually a prison cell.
Jin Siyu grabbed the half-awake person on the bed, lifting her much-thinned body and striding into the prison. He opened the barred door and tossed the person in his grasp onto the rotted straw.
On the other side of the cell, a door opened and some figures flashed inside. Jin Siyu glanced over without speaking.
After being dragged and thrown like this, the person finally woke.
Under the dim yellow light of an oil lamp on the wall, she opened her eyes.
In an instant, autumn waters gleamed, mist and vapor rising. Those eyes that had endured bloody battle yet remained soft and crystalline made Jin Siyu’s heart tremble again.
Then he looked away, regarding her face with indifference.
The woman who’d awakened from unconsciousness didn’t seem to have reacted yet. She rustled on the straw as she climbed up. Probably feeling dizzy, she swayed, supported her head, and moaned.
After a while, she raised her head. The lamplight reflected off the scar on her forehead, and that faint red color between her brows grew slightly heavier.
She looked around somewhat confusedly, then looked at Jin Siyu standing before her.
Jin Siyu stood motionless. His standing position and angle provided the best protection for his vital points. In the shadows, who knew how many experts lurked—if the person before him suddenly attacked, what awaited her would certainly be a fate worse than death.
But the woman didn’t move. She sat there with a blank expression, spacing out for a while, then lazily rummaged through the straw beside her, tossing away the rotten pieces and keeping only the smoother, fresher straw before comfortably lying down.
While lying down, she even muttered, “Why did this straw feel softer before than it does now…”
“…”
Jin Siyu stared at her in astonishment. He’d envisioned many scenarios for how this woman might act upon waking—violently attacking, feigning madness—he’d thought of everything except this situation.
The woman seemed very tired. After lying down, she didn’t move, half-closing her eyes. By the look of it, she was preparing to sleep again.
Jin Siyu stood for a long time being ignored, with a belly full of words and no one to ask. After waiting and waiting until he couldn’t bear it anymore, he stepped forward and kicked her away with one foot.
“Get up!”
“Bang!” The light, insubstantial body was kicked from one end to the other, hitting the wall. Hearing that sound, Jin Siyu frowned slightly.
The woman slid limply down the wall, lying on the ground coughing continuously. The hollow coughing echoed in the cell, making one feel irritated.
After a long while, she finished coughing and slowly climbed up. She raised her head to look at Jin Siyu and finally spoke, asking: “Who are you? Where is this?”
At least she said something normal. Jin Siyu furrowed his brow, looking at her coldly and saying in a heavy voice: “It’s not your place to ask me questions here. Who are you?”
The woman squinted at him. Her expression was neither strong nor cold, completely lacking that night’s bloody valor as she’d charged through the camp. With several parts confusion, she said bewilderedly: “Ah? Who am I?”
Jin Siyu’s gaze swept past the scar on her forehead. He sneered coldly: “Feigning amnesia, are you? Before this prince?”
“You’re a prince?” The woman tilted her head to look at him. Her elegant brows gained several points of delicate cunning from this motion, causing Jin Siyu’s gaze to flicker.
“Where have I offended you? Is this your princely palace’s dungeon?” The woman looked all around, murmuring: “Have I committed a capital crime?”
She thought for a long time, seeming to feel tired again, and lay back down, saying: “From the looks of it, my crime isn’t small. Judging by your eyes, you really want to kill me. Since that’s the case, we needn’t waste time going back and forth. I’m very tired. Even if you don’t plan to give me a full meal, at least let me sleep well before I die.”
“You can either sleep permanently, or—answer me.” Jin Siyu forcefully lifted her chin, compelling her to turn and see clearly those sinister torture implements.
The woman’s gaze fell on those hook-toothed, sharp-edged implements. She smiled helplessly, tilted her head in thought and said: “Yes, I didn’t lose my memory. I was just lying to you. My name is Wang Shaoyao. Um… I’m your enemy. I disguised myself as a man to get close to you, wanting to kill you for revenge. I failed and was captured by you. That’s it.”
“What grudge do we have?”
“You bullied merchants and the market, oppressed the good and kind, forcibly seized women, occupied people’s farmland.” As the woman spoke, she thought, saying with complete seriousness: “You took a fancy to my family’s ancestral home site with good feng shui and wanted to seize it for your family graveyard. You killed my father and pushed him into the river… um, you also drove my mother to death, forcing her to hang herself with a rope…”
“Enough!” Jin Siyu was both angry and amused, unable to help calling a halt to her wild nonsense.
The woman stopped, sighed, and cupped her head again, not moving.
“Clatter.”
A pile of vicious torture implements was thrown before her.
“I didn’t torture you to give you a chance. Since you don’t know what’s good for you and spout nonsense, don’t blame this prince for being merciless.” Jin Siyu’s smile flashed with cruel coldness. “Here are eighteen types of torture implements. Whatever you put on will let you sleep in permanent pain… Choose for yourself.”
The woman raised her head, her gaze sweeping across those bloodstained implements one by one. After a long while, she said: “Since a prince personally came to interrogate me, it shows I’m an important criminal. Important criminals should receive important criminals’ treatment—like white silk, poisoned wine, crane’s crest red, something like that.”
“You want to die?” Jin Siyu’s gaze turned cold.
“I just don’t want to die after enduring every torment.” The woman smiled. “I can’t answer your questions, yet you insist I answer. If I can’t answer, you’ll torture me. If I answer wrong, you’ll still torture me. Knowing it’s all the same result either way, why go through all that trouble?”
Jin Siyu fell silent, feeling this woman who was impervious to both carrot and stick was indeed troublesome.
His gaze swept past the scar on her forehead again. Jin Siyu’s eyes held several parts doubt. The medical woman had examined her pulse earlier and said that blow to the forehead truly wasn’t light—damaging her brain was possible. Moreover, the medical woman also said she had poison in her body, and illness, all tangled chaotically in her meridians, making it impossible to identify exactly what the problem was.
He’d also taken her pulse. He didn’t understand her strange pulse condition, but discovered that the true force originally in her body seemed to have vanished.
In other words, her martial arts were destroyed.
For a strong, spirited woman of high martial skill to wake and find her martial arts destroyed—it would be very difficult to control feelings of intense despair. Yet she seemed completely unconcerned, as if she truly didn’t remember ever having martial skills.
“Your Highness.” Sensing his hesitation and indecision, his guard captain flashed out from the shadows. “Under the three woods torture, there’s nothing that can’t be extracted…”
Jin Siyu’s gaze swept across the torture implements scattered on the ground. Some could scald a person’s entire skin to rot, some could split the spine open, some could tear off the scalp bit by bit, some could dislocate all the body’s joints piece by piece…
Looking at those implements made him press his lips together. He hadn’t thought anything of them before, but today they seemed particularly vicious.
His gaze passed over the implements, floating over the nearly emaciated body on the straw. Her curled-up form looked like a small youth, her back thin, the protruding bones like a pair of thin butterfly wings—just looking at them made one feel they couldn’t bear any weight.
The fingers beneath his wide sleeves slightly curled, then relaxed. Relaxed, then curled again.
After several struggles beneath his sleeve, he finally pointed to the smallest one, a finger-piercing implement, saying: “This one.”
The guard picked up the implement and went over. She looked at that row of long needles and smiled bitterly, saying: “I truly hope at this moment I could confess my origins and ancestry going back eight generations.”
“I hope so too.” Jin Siyu said indifferently. “Don’t think you’re definitely condemned to death. You’re just a woman, perhaps forced into rebellion. As long as this prince is willing, preserving your life is no difficulty. The fear is that you don’t know what’s good for you and seek your own death.”
“I’d like to say I was forced… you probably won’t believe me again.” The woman smiled bitterly, honestly extending her fingers and lying there motionless.
The fingers resting on the straw, though callused at the joints, were slender and graceful, the nails crystalline, the tips exquisite like jade scallions. The soldiers administering the torture looked at such fingers, thinking of how they would pierce long needles through the joints, destroying such beautiful form, and all felt somewhat unwilling.
That woman also showed regret, putting her own fingers before her eyes and turning them over and over, murmuring: “I’m sorry, I’ve wronged you. From now on, we bid farewell to perfection…”
Jin Siyu turned away.
The candlelight cast the shadow of the torture being administered onto the mottled wall. Those movements were delicate yet sinister, carrying slow, cold force. A faint bloody scent diffused through the air. Jin Siyu carefully inhaled it, his face expressionless.
Expressionless, yet his heart slightly tense, waiting for the sound from behind. He didn’t expect that outwardly delicate yet inwardly resolute woman to cry out or beg for mercy, yet he didn’t know exactly what he was waiting for. However, there was no sound at all. It was so quiet—only a faint, barely perceptible sigh.
The sigh was remote, filled with liberation-like satisfaction. Vaguely, it seemed to hold other meanings he couldn’t fathom. Then he heard the guard’s report: “Your Highness, she’s fainted.”
Jin Siyu turned around. The woman lay on the straw, eyes tightly closed, a layer of crystalline sweat seeping from her forehead, reflecting faint color in the lamplight.
Jin Siyu’s gaze slowly descended, but stopped at the edge of her sleeve and turned away.
Another figure slowly emerged from the darkness, bowing to Jin Siyu: “Your Highness, this woman is somewhat strange. Could she really have been knocked silly by that blow?”
Jin Siyu smiled: “We still need to observe more. If we can’t get answers today, ask tomorrow. If not tomorrow, the day after. There will eventually be a day when the truth comes out.”
“I think Your Highness needn’t expend that effort.” That person laughed. “In the end, she’s just a woman. Her martial arts are destroyed, her hands destroyed—what waves can she make? If Your Highness doesn’t mind, I think she should just be sent to the main camp’s red tent.”
The red tent was code for military prostitutes in the army.
“Fine.” Jin Siyu was about to give the order without a second thought.
But it was the person who’d suggested it who hastily stopped him: “Your Highness, this subordinate has reconsidered. This woman’s identity remains unknown. Putting her in that complicated place might cause some incident. It’s better to trouble Your Highness to take care and keep her close by for interrogation.”
“Interrogate what?” Jin Siyu raised an eyebrow, somewhat impatient. “She killed so many of my Great Yue sons—even a thousand cuts wouldn’t be excessive. I think there’s no need to ask anymore. Just drag her out and kill her.”
“This woman’s identity has some peculiarities.” That person smiled. “If she truly has amnesia, supplemented with medicinal treatment, she can still remember. Perhaps she’s an important Tiansheng figure who knows military intelligence. To kill her like this would be a pity.”
Jin Siyu pondered for a moment, reluctantly saying: “Then detain her for now. We’ll decide after her identity is clear.”
That person smiled and took his leave. Jin Siyu watched his departing back, his eyes flickering—this was a military advisor newly sent by His Majesty. Though called a military advisor, he was actually a variation of supervising commander. After this defeat, though on the surface his imperial favor remained, only he knew that His Majesty’s trust in him had greatly diminished.
Thinking of the Battle of White Head Cliff, a shadow passed through his eyes. That Wei Zhi, said to be only seventeen, had actually descended like divine troops, daring to charge the camp with three hundred death warriors to slay generals, causing all his accomplishments to come to nothing, his life’s foundation nearly lost!
Supposedly that night in the chaotic battle, Wei Zhi died from a stray arrow. He hadn’t been able to find him among the multitude of corpses—all the bodies had been hacked into mincemeat by vengeful Great Yue soldiers, their faces unrecognizable. In the end, to stabilize morale and salvage some face, he directly found two heads to hang on the city gate. Though defeated, the opposing commander was killed—at least it helped him maintain his current military authority.
Jin Siyu stood silently, his fingers beneath his wide sleeves tightly curled together. The force made his knuckles crack in the silence.
Wei Zhi!
You’d better really be dead!
In the northern lands’ early winter, there were already signs of snow. The wind’s howling sound was fierce and cold, like warriors’ death cries.
Firelight leaping… warhorses neighing… snow-bright blade-light flashing and disappearing… boundless blood unobstructed… scattered footsteps surrounding crowds… fortresses of flesh and blood, trenches of sinew and bone… in the distance someone laughing coldly, coldly, coldly, moon-white robes flashing on a black horse… suddenly it began to snow… burying the lonely graves deep in the forest…
She moaned and opened her eyes.
A pair of hands reached over, taking a brocade cloth and meticulously wiping the sweat from her forehead. A crisp voice called out happily: “Miss has awakened.”
Footsteps quickly approached—an unfamiliar yet refined scent belonging to a man.
Beneath her was softness, the bedding smooth, all around a faint fragrance, and vaguely the delicate sound of bells tinkling in the wind.
Without opening her eyes, she knew this wasn’t the previous dark cell.
She didn’t open her eyes either, silently organizing all her thoughts in her mind.
This was a relatively sealed room in a wealthy household… because it was completely airtight… someone sat at her side… the dragon ambergris scent on them was noble… all around were experts, their breathing faint… further away, the sound of mechanisms turning with a rattling—sigh… which family’s foolish child, installing a mechanism yet not maintaining it properly. Either it’s a new product or too old. Don’t they know to apply some oil?
“Why don’t you open your eyes when you’re awake?”
A gentle male voice—of course she absolutely didn’t think he was very gentle.
She opened her eyes, glanced at the gold-crowned, robed man at the bedside. After looking for a long while as if recognizing him, she carefully moved out her pair of hands wrapped like winter melons and showed them to him: “I’m in pain. It hurts so much I don’t want to talk.”
Jin Siyu froze, not expecting the first words she’d say upon opening her eyes to be this. But seeing the fresh sweat on her forehead, remembering her unhealed head injury, wounds all over her body, internal injuries, plus torture injuries—such a complete picture of wretchedness—he involuntarily softened and tilted his head, signaling the maid to come wipe her sweat.
“You changed the place today, didn’t you?” She let herself be attended to, eyes closed, saying lazily: “But I tell you, I still haven’t remembered anything. If you’re going to fly into a rage from shame and throw me back in the dark cell, please hurry up. Otherwise, if I sleep too comfortably, it’ll be very painful when I have to get up later.”
Jin Siyu couldn’t help but smile, quickly restraining his expression, saying blandly: “You seem very eager to be tortured.”
“I just don’t want to face torture implements after enjoying beautiful days.” She frowned, opening her eyes to look at him. “You’re not planning to send me? If you’re not sending me, I’m going to make demands. Is there food? I’m hungry.”
Jin Siyu was stunned again. He was a noble prince who’d spent time among flowers and beauties—he’d seen countless women, yet never one like this. Both spirited and lazy, both bold and cautious, both cunning and straightforward, when telling truth it seemed like lies and when lying it seemed like truth. Very lazy, and very shameless, yet somehow made one feel her bearing was noble and dignified.
Truly an extremely special woman, complex as a kaleidoscope.
He waved his hand, ordering maids to bring hot porridge. She indeed ate with great relish, seemingly carefree, finishing one bowl and wanting another. He watched her eat and said: “Later I’ll send you to the red tent.”
The maids were so startled their hands shook. But she seemed oblivious, crying “Ah!” and saying: “Don’t move away, I haven’t finished eating.” She stuck her head over, casually asking: “What’s a red tent?”
“Military prostitutes.” Jin Siyu answered very casually.
Her eating motion finally slowed slightly. She raised her eyes, looking him up and down, then turned around and, using the bronze mirror at the bedside, carefully examined herself, then sighed.
Jin Siyu really didn’t want to keep asking about her thoughts, making himself seem foolishly unable to guess anything. But he truly couldn’t figure out what this person’s strange brain was thinking. After holding back for a long time, he had to ask: “Why are you sighing? Are you afraid? If you’re afraid, say what you should say. Perhaps there’s still a chance.”
She raised her eyes to look at him, then looked at her hands wrapped like winter melons, slowly saying: “Wang Shaoyao feels that actually she’s not ugly. Why is it that some people just don’t take a liking to her?”
“…”
The maids suppressed their laughter. Jin Siyu’s facial expression was quite peculiar. Just as he was about to say something, suddenly her face changed. She pushed away the bowl, turned over to lie at the bedside, and began vomiting violently.
Jin Siyu hastily dodged but was still too slow. The hem of his deep purple princely robe was already covered in filth. She continued vomiting, face red, ears red, veins bulging, as if she wanted not only to vomit out the porridge she’d just eaten but to viciously vomit out her own internal organs.
The maids became a chaotic mess—some pouring water, some holding the basin, some cleaning up the filth, some patting her back. Jin Siyu stood to the side, also feeling his mind was a mess. After a long while, he angrily said: “Clumsy fools! Can’t even feed porridge properly!”
She leaned over the couch, vomiting until her breath was faint, yet didn’t forget to make the effort to raise her head and roll her eyes at him: “…What does this have to do with who fed the porridge? I’m ill. I need a physician. A physician!”
Jin Siyu glared furiously at this ungrateful woman. She didn’t even look, turning her head to continue vomiting. Jin Siyu stood there fuming, pushing away the maids who came to change his clothes, coldly ordering: “Summon a physician!”
The city’s best physicians were quickly dragged over. Each took her pulse one by one. The prescriptions handed up were wildly varied. Jin Siyu himself looked at them and felt they were truly absurd. In his heart, he knew these physicians were useless—her meridians had reversed flow, truly not something these ordinary physicians could handle.
She finally finished vomiting cleanly, exhausted to the extreme, lying on the couch pale as paper. Jin Siyu gazed at her. After a long while, he personally took a cloth and wiped the corners of her lips, suddenly saying: “There’s someone you should go see.”
“Who?” She refused. “I’m tired. Don’t want to go.”
“If you don’t see them, perhaps there won’t be another chance.” A cold smile floated at the corners of his lips.
“Why?” She opened her eyes weakly. “Who is so important?”
He stared into her eyes.
“Hua Qiong.”