A company of cavalry waited outside the gates of Shiyuan Palace for Prince Wu. When they saw the old man emerge, the riders straightened and saluted in unison.

Once Prince Wu had mounted, he turned and looked back at the magnificent sprawl of the palace compound. A sudden, melancholy feeling came over him — that this might be the last time he ever laid eyes on Shiyuan Palace.

This Shiyuan Palace represented imperial authority. It represented Dachu’s image. The ordinary people of Daxing City — if you stopped any one of them at random and asked what Dachu looked like, the first thing that would come to mind was surely that expanse of palace walls.

And yet now, Dachu seemed to have nothing left but those palace walls.

“My lord, will you not go home to see them?”

His personal guard asked.

Prince Wu was silent, then shook his head.

His cavalry followed Prince Wu and departed. Emperor Yang Jing climbed to the top of the palace wall, stood at the heights, and watched his royal uncle leave Daxing City once again. He did not know why, but he too felt afraid — that this was the last time he would ever see his royal uncle.

“I am the Emperor, the lord of all under heaven, and yet the only person I have to rely on is my royal uncle.”

The Emperor looked up to heaven and let out a long, mournful sigh.

The chief eunuch attendant at the Emperor’s side, Zhen Xiaodao, had words that rose in his throat — but could not come out.

He wanted to say: Your Majesty, it is truly not that only Prince Wu can be of use. It is simply that Your Majesty trusts no one who does not bear the surname Yang.

Think back — Gui Yuanshu, Wei Chi Guangming, all those young men of talent and brilliance: were they not all driven away by Your Majesty’s own hand?

And as for Prince Wu himself — does Your Majesty truly trust him one hundred percent, without a shadow of doubt?

If he said those words, he would surely be killed. Even though the Emperor held him in high regard, and their relationship had long since grown beyond that of master and servant into something more like friends — he would still be killed.

Zhen Xiaodao simply stayed silent. Let alone speaking to the Emperor, even if someone at this moment had asked Zhen Xiaodao whether he had anything to say about the world, he would have shaken his head.

Nothing left to say. Everything that has come to pass was deserved.

When Prince Wu’s column reached the city gate, they stopped. At the sight of what waited there, Prince Wu’s expression shifted subtly — he quickly dismounted.

His wife was standing at the gate waiting for him, a bowl of soup in her hands.

“I knew you wouldn’t have time to come home. Someone from the palace sent word that His Majesty had summoned you directly, so I knew you would head north back to camp as soon as you left the palace. So I brought some soup to wait for you here.”

Prince Wu felt a stab of pain in his heart.

He took the bowl. The soup was still warm.

“This time… how long will you be away?”

The Princess Consort asked in a very small, very quiet voice. The moment she had said it, she felt a pang of regret — she had never once asked before.

Prince Wu held the bowl out toward her: “Another bowl.”

He smiled and said: “Same as always — when I win, I’ll come home.”

Looking at him like that, so assured and confident, just as he had been when he was young.

The Princess Consort gave a firm nod and told a maidservant to drape the heavy cloak over Prince Wu’s shoulders: “The weather is still cold — there’s a late spring chill. I made a new cloak with extra cotton inside — it’s warm.”

She handed over the second bowl.

Prince Wu looked at his wife with nothing but tender affection in his eyes — just as it had been so many years ago, when he was already a war god whose name shook the world, and she was a girl just at the bloom of youth. The way he had looked at her then was exactly this.

“If…”

Prince Wu finished the second bowl of soup, held his wife’s gaze, hesitated a moment, then said: “If Ting’er wants to try his hand at trade, you can guide him a bit, let him go out and make his way in the world. Perhaps he’ll earn a little money — that’s an achievement too.”

Prince Wu — a Dachu royal prince, the war god of Dachu. His son, going into business?

In the past, he could never have said such a thing, or even thought it.

But now, when he said it, it felt as though it had naturally come to this — so the Princess Consort’s eyes had already turned red.

Yet she didn’t cry. She knew the Prince disliked it when women cried, found it an ill omen, especially before setting out for battle.

“Ting’er does seem to have a bit of a gift for business.”

The Princess Consort forced herself to smile: “May I truly let him give it a try?”

Prince Wu made a sound of agreement: “You may. And tell him — money must not be wasted. He must learn to save, to be thrifty, to manage the household…”

He paused, then gave a self-deprecating laugh: “These things you can teach him yourself — after all, I’m not particularly good at them either.”

He suddenly opened his arms and, before all present, embraced the Princess Consort.

“Go home. Daxing City is cold.”

Prince Wu whispered those words in her ear, then released her, turned, and mounted his horse.

Because of those words — go home — the Princess Consort’s shoulders trembled once.

Li Xionghu had withdrawn. The situation in Jingzhou was shifting by the moment, and Prince Wu truly had not one instant to waste.

He needed to get back at the fastest possible speed, and try once more to show what he was made of.

If Dachu were a person on the brink of death, then Prince Wu was the only medicine keeping that person alive — not a cure, just enough to ease the symptoms for a while.

Every time the patient was about to give out, the medicine would be threaded on a string and swallowed down.

When the patient rallied a little, the medicine would be pulled back out — because there was only one of it, one time after another, again and again…

This could never cure the illness. But kept up long enough, the medicine itself would eventually be spent.

The Princess Consort stood in the wind and waved to her husband, but he did not look back. Once through the city gate, he spurred his horse and was gone.

She had said once: our Prince has never owed the court anything. He has never owed Dachu anything. He has never owed the Yang imperial clan anything.

It has always been them who owed the Prince. And they have never once repaid it.

—

Jingzhou. The Heavenly Mandate Army’s main camp.

Pei Chongzhi, seeing Yang Xuanji’s expression so darkened, did not dare speak rashly.

He had only returned to camp a short while ago himself. The way this last affair had gone, he had handled it with no grace at all — he had no face to be the first to speak.

In a daze, he found himself thinking: what was it that made Zhuge Jingzhan lose Yang Xuanji’s trust? It seemed to have something to do with going to Yuzhou, and after coming back Yang Xuanji had harbored thoughts of killing him.

But that wasn’t really about Yuzhou. That was about Prince Ning, Li Chi.

It was like a curse — whoever came near it once would come back afflicted. Bound for a miserable end.

At this thought, Pei Chongzhi shuddered.

Last time, the way Zhuge Jingzhan had handled things hadn’t been elegant either — but Zhuge Jingzhan had at least used a great flood to stop and slow Prince Ning Li Chi’s southward march.

This time, Pei Chongzhi had come back truly empty-handed, and had left behind a Verdant Cord Army general, Guo Wei, to boot.

Had he not had the presence of mind to choose a different road from Guo Wei, he himself would have been left behind as well.

“How long do you all intend to play deaf and dumb?”

Yang Xuanji suddenly spoke, his tone not particularly dark — yet everyone there knew it was the final restraint before a violent outburst.

“My lord.”

Pei Chongzhi knew he truly could no longer play deaf and dumb, so he bowed and said: “This minister believes that Li Xionghu’s withdrawal actually holds nothing but benefit and no harm for your lordship.”

Yang Xuanji looked at him: “Oh? Then tell me — where exactly does this abundance of benefit lie.”

Men like Pei Chongzhi relied on one thing: their mouths. The output of their abilities all came through speech.

“My lord, although Li Xionghu has withdrawn, he has left behind his subordinate general Shi Wu, commanding an army of a hundred and fifty thousand stationed at Longlu. Those hundred and fifty thousand are a wolf at Prince Wu’s flank — if Prince Wu truly dares to lead his forces into open attack, Shi Wu’s army will not let that opportunity pass.”

“The court has only so many troops to draw on, and the only one who can fight is Prince Wu. So if they want to face your lordship in a decisive battle, they must first march on Longlu and deal with Shi Wu’s force. That is your lordship’s opening.”

“Either attack Daxing City, or strike at the rear of Prince Wu’s main army, or withdraw forces to Jingzhou — the initiative lies entirely on your lordship’s side.”

As Pei Chongzhi spoke, his mind opened up entirely.

“Attack Daxing City — with your lordship’s prestige and power, there are doubtless many inside Daxing City ready to open the gates and welcome you with swept streets… Strike at Prince Wu’s rear — Prince Wu’s supply lines are overstretched. Destroy his supply train and his untarnished record will shatter right here in Jingzhou.”

By the time he finished that stretch of words, the eyes of everyone else in the room had begun to light up.

So Pei Chongzhi could not help but curse them all to himself as a pack of fools — because those words of his only sounded good.

Pei Chongzhi said: “However, this minister believes your lordship should respond from a position of strength, not from one of urgency.”

Yang Xuanji asked: “How so?”

Pei Chongzhi said: “Withdraw to Jingzhou — wipe out the Ning Army forces in Jingzhou along with Xie Xiu’s contingent, secure firm control of Jingzhou and Liangzhou, then receive the reinforcements coming from Shuzhou. By that point, Prince Wu will be running low on provisions, and will already have fought a brutal engagement against Li Xionghu’s forces. He will have no capacity for another decisive battle against your lordship.”

Yang Xuanji fell silent.

After a long pause, Yang Xuanji asked: “If I withdraw, and Prince Wu pursues us relentlessly — what then?”

Pei Chongzhi said: “Your lordship may send a capable person bearing your lordship’s personal letter to Longlu, to meet with Li Xionghu’s subordinate general Shi Wu, and tell him — agree on a certain month and day for both sides to strike Prince Wu in a pincer attack.”

Yang Xuanji’s brow furrowed slightly.

Pei Chongzhi continued: “Your lordship may detach a hundred thousand troops as a rear guard, making a show of marching toward Longlu, while the main army turns back toward Jingzhou. When Shi Wu engages Prince Wu, the hundred thousand can be pulled back. This guarantees there is no risk of failure.”

By now, Yang Xuanji finally felt he could breathe again.

He knew all too well how dangerous Jingzhou had become. That advantageous situation, which had been perfectly intact, had been shattered in one blow by that Tang Pidi.

A commander of such incomparable ability — why was he not his man?

If he had a Tang Pidi, never mind Jingzhou or Yuzhou — the entire realm might already be in his grasp.

With his own strength, with the backing of the great clans, and then with Tang Pidi’s talent for commanding armies — who under heaven could stand against him?

“Then follow your plan.”

Yang Xuanji said: “Pass the order — the army is to organize its equipment and pack up its supplies, and return to Jingzhou as quickly as possible… This retreat is not a true retreat. It is preparation for a decisive strike… Everyone return to your posts, restrain your men, and make ready to march within three days at the latest.”

“Yes, my lord!”

Everyone rose and pressed their fists together in reply.

Yang Xuanji thought: going back is good. Deal with the trouble at the rear before anything else.

The Ning Army forces in Jingzhou were like a nail driven into the small of his back — unbearable. With Shuzhou’s reinforcements cut off, the momentum of this struggle for the realm had shifted away from him.

Eliminate the threat at the rear, and when he returned to Jingzhou, it would be as a conqueror entering in triumph.

Just then, a lieutenant came hurrying in from outside, holding a small scroll in both hands.

“My lord — urgent military report!”

The lieutenant dropped to one knee and presented it with both hands raised.

Yang Xuanji strode forward, pulled open the tiny scroll — no larger than a finger — and unrolled it. This was battlefield intelligence sent back at the fastest possible speed.

“How can this be?!”

The moment Yang Xuanji finished reading it, his face went as white as paper.

Pei Chongzhi’s heart lurched when he saw this. He leaned over to look, and lurched again.

Two days prior, Prince Wu Yang Jiju had — under the pretense of bestowing a royal title on Li Xionghu’s subordinate general Shi Wu — lured Shi Wu into receiving Prince Wu’s envoy inside his own camp. Hidden within the imperial edict was a concealed short blade. With a single stroke, Shi Wu was killed. Prince Wu’s assassin was then hacked to death by the surrounding soldiers.

With Shi Wu dead, Prince Wu’s army launched a night assault. In the space of one night, the hundred and fifty thousand rebel troops were routed and scattered, and Longlu was retaken.

After that, Prince Wu had pressed on in forced marches day and night. His current position was already less than two days’ march from the Heavenly Mandate Army’s main camp.

“Go — go — we have to go now!”

Yang Xuanji immediately gave the order: “Pass the word — now, right this instant — withdraw the army to Jingzhou!”

Pei Chongzhi grabbed Yang Xuanji by the arm, his own face ashen as he said: “My lord… it’s too late.”

—