“Bound-Spirit Guard — attend!”

“Here!”

At Princess Wu’s call the Bound-Spirit Guard moved forward into formation.

“Seize Cao Lie. Bind him and have him escorted back to Yuzhou.”

Princess Wu turned and stepped back into the carriage, then added one more sentence: “Tell him that from this day forward, there is nothing between him and me. He is the Cao family’s head. I am Princess Wu.”

She waved her hand. Zhao Luan drew the carriage door shut.

Inside the carriage, Princess Wu’s expression was difficult to read.

Zhao Luan noticed the faint trace of tears at the corner of her mistress’s eyes and offered her a handkerchief, saying softly: “The young Marquis had no good options, my Lady.”

Princess Wu said: “He was too clever by half.”

Zhao Luan did not know what more to say — that was a matter between aunt and nephew, and she was ultimately a servant. There were limits.

Cai Nan offered a cup of tea. “My Lady, the young Marquis didn’t seem to be pretending. He only brought two or three attendants with him. If it were truly a performance, he would have brought more capable—”

She stopped as she saw Princess Wu’s expression grow even darker, and fell silent.

In the course of their work, the two women could speak their minds freely. But servants could not intrude into family matters.

After a long silence Princess Wu spoke, as though to herself:

“When he was small and did something wrong, his first instinct was always to come find me. He knew that as long as he was near me, his father wouldn’t really do anything to him.”

Princess Wu looked toward the window — Cai Nan quickly raised it open again. The outside air came in and Princess Wu breathed it deep, her color seeming to ease somewhat.

“He is too clever. So clever he can always see straight into people’s hearts.”

Princess Wu said: “But do you know what that means? A person who can see into other hearts will grow accustomed to gauging people’s intentions. Given enough time, that habit will pull them down from the higher road onto the lesser path.”

Zhao Luan thought privately that the young Marquis had truly been in an impossible position — but since her mistress said what she said, she didn’t dare argue.

Still, she could see it: even as Princess Wu spoke those words, her eyes were too complicated for pure resentment.

Zhao Luan thought, considering things from the young Marquis’s position — he really had been trapped. He was now a minister of Ning, trusted and favored by the Ning King. If he had gone to beg the Ning King, the King would not have granted it, and the Cao family’s holdings in Yuzhou would have suffered for the asking.

It was only by offering up the Cao family’s entire fortune plus his own continued loyalty that he had secured his father’s life to begin with. Any disruption now would mean not only failing to rescue his uncle, but potentially destroying himself and his father in the process — could that truly be called winning?

Not only Zhao Luan felt this. Cai Nan thought the same.

Both of them were somewhat puzzled by how fiercely their mistress had reacted.

“You don’t understand,” said Princess Wu quietly, and said nothing more.

She fell silent; Zhao Luan and Cai Nan fell silent with her. The carriage became very still.

Outside, the Bound-Spirit Guard surrounded Cao Lie and swiftly bound him hand and foot.

Cao Lie had brought only two or three attendants. The Guard handed the bound young man over to those few men and told them plainly: take him back to Jizhou, and if he fails to listen, if he returns, he will be met with arrows.

On the road back, those attendants wanted to undo Cao Lie’s bonds but didn’t dare. Cao Lie lay there, his face a study in bitter grief.

He had, in truth, come with two purposes.

The first was to try to talk Princess Wu out of this. Tang Pidi’s resolve to subdue Prince Wu was not something anyone in the world could move. Given the Ning army’s strength, the ferocity of its commanders, and the brilliance of Tang Pidi’s command — what odds did Princess Wu truly have?

Princess Wu was proud of herself, and her learning was wide. But there is a difference between an enthusiast and a professional. Pitting your personal interest against another person’s life’s work and expecting an easy victory — even Prince Wu had fallen to Tang Pidi’s strategy. Princess Wu was a wife who had made herself an excellent companion for her husband. That was not the same thing.

Yet Cao Lie also knew the depth of feeling between Princess Wu and Prince Wu. If that feeling were not profound beyond ordinary measure, she would have left Daxing City long before the siege came. With business concerns spread across the whole of the central plains, she could have hidden herself anywhere she chose, with ease.

But as long as Prince Wu was fighting for Chu, Princess Wu would not leave.

She had known, of course, that she could not change her husband’s mind about any of it — and so she had quietly stayed by his side, saying nothing.

Their son Yang Zhenting had been sent away; after that, she had nothing left to hold her back. If Prince Wu died, she would follow.

Cao Lie had thought he would try. But if he couldn’t convince her — that had always been his second purpose in coming.

He truly had not planned to leave. If you speak of feeling — Cao Lie could live in the Ning King’s camp for the sake of his father. He could also die before the Ning King for the sake of his aunt.

She was the aunt who had loved him most, from the time he was small.

Young Marquis, one of his attendants said gently, let’s go back. The Princess seems cold, but really she’s… pretending to be cold.

Cao Lie smiled sourly to himself. Even an outsider like you can see that. Do you think I cannot?

Princess Wu had struck him twice and spoken terrible words to him. Did she truly not know her own nephew’s character?

And so they traveled back along the road, until after a few days they encountered a party riding hard from Yuzhou to find them.

His men came to meet him, all visibly relieved.

Someone pressed a letter into his hands. “My Lord — this is from Princess Wu.”

Cao Lie had guessed the Princess would send him a letter. He had not waited for it — he had ridden directly to intercept her on the road. So he had never seen what it said.

He took the letter now. There was a complicated taste in his heart, like five flavors all at once.

He thought there was perhaps little point in reading it now. He set it aside.

He lay down trying to rest. He turned. He turned again. He sat up and breathed deeply, but it did nothing to settle his heart.

He looked sidelong at the letter. After a long silence, he picked it up and opened it.

Lie’er — I am about to go to Mangdang Mountain to rescue your uncle. I know this road is more likely to end badly than not, so there are two things I must entrust to you.

First — your aunt knows you are clever, and that you will certainly have guessed I intend to go to Mangdang Mountain myself. Therefore, I must ask you firmly: do not leave Yuzhou.

The Ning King has treated you with generosity and kindness. You are the Cao family’s head. If you leave Yuzhou, the Ning King’s suspicions will be aroused. You must take loyalty to the Ning King as your absolute resolve, with no wavering.

Your uncle once said: if this realm is to change hands, seven or eight times in ten the one to take it will be the Ning King Li Chi.

Do not act on impulse and ruin everything. Before any action, think of your father. Think of the Cao family. Think of yourself.

Second — at the end of this letter I have written down the place where your brother Zhenting is in hiding. When the Ning King ascends the throne in time to come, present yourself then and ask clemency for Zhenting, that he may return to the world of men and not grow old in some forgotten, obscure place.

Zhenting is a man of kind heart. When that day comes, do not let him take office — even if the Ning King intends it for him, you must discourage it. Let him pursue some trade instead. Look after him well.

He is older than you, but his martial skill is not your equal, his mind is not your equal, his experience of the world is not your equal, and his understanding of people is not your equal. In all these things he needs your help.

Your uncle has given his heart to Chu. The end he will meet, he has long seen coming. I have long seen it too. So I say once more: whatever happens, you must not go to see the Ning King. If your uncle and I should fall on the battlefield, the Ning King will see to a proper burial.

Lie’er — your aunt loves you no differently than she loves Zhenting. I want Zhenting to live well. I want the same for you. Remember. Remember.

When he finished reading, Cao Lie’s hands were trembling.

At the same moment, back with the Chu army.

Princess Wu had slept briefly. When she opened her eyes, she found both Zhao Luan and Cai Nan dozing against the carriage walls.

She sat up quietly and looked once more at the map spread before her.

I know what others say of me — that I am no match for Tang Pidi. I know it myself too. Even Prince Wu has been caught by Tang Pidi’s strategy this time.

But that is my man. And I am going to save him.

We have been apart more than we have been together through most of our lives. The feeling between us has never grown thin.

If we can die together, at least afterwards we will have each other, morning and evening, without end.

He always says that when things are finally quiet, he will stay with me. But once something is begun, where is the day it ends?

Others say he is loyal only to Chu. Only I know — he is also loyal to his wife.

This world has too many husbands and wives who can share prosperity but not hardship. Even in prosperity, each one hides something from the other.

He was never that kind of man. And neither am I.

She breathed in slowly, bent her head over the map, picked up the charcoal pencil, and fell once more into thought.

Daxing City, Shiyuan Palace

The young eunuch Yuan Ying was Zhen Xiaodao’s disciple — clever, attentive. These days he was the one who attended the Emperor.

The Emperor had never named him Chief Steward, because in the Emperor’s heart no one could fill Zhen Xiaodao’s place.

Yuan Ying understood this, and had no desires of his own. He only wanted to take care of the Emperor as his master had.

He glanced over at the Emperor, who sat talking quietly with General Jiang Qihai over military matters, and felt a quiet ache in his chest.

The Emperor’s injuries had never properly healed. He kept coughing. The physicians had prepared medicine after medicine, and none of it had helped.

“Your Majesty need not worry overmuch,” Jiang Qihai was saying — most likely trying to ease the Emperor’s mind rather than speaking from real confidence. “Princess Wu has great ability, and Dou Yong has a warrior’s strength no one man can match. This rescue should not go wrong.”

“Go wrong?”

The Emperor looked at him with a slight, painful smile.

“There’s no such thing as going wrong or not. It’s only that I… know too well how deep the feeling is between Royal Uncle and Royal Aunt. If I hadn’t given her permission to go, she would have gone anyway.”

Jiang Qihai said nothing.

The Emperor held his teacup but did not drink, speaking as though to himself: “There’s a saying among the common people — Husband and wife are birds of the same grove; when great peril comes, each flies its own way…“

Jiang Qihai opened his mouth, but could find nothing to say.

The Emperor continued: “I have never seen birds fly each their own way. What I have seen is two birds flying side by side.”

He rose and walked to the window, where he stood for a long time in silence. He did not speak; neither Jiang Qihai nor Yuan Ying dared to.

The east study had gone very quiet. The Emperor stood there motionless, looking almost like he had forgotten where he was.

But Yuan Ying noticed — the Emperor’s hand was closed around something, and his fingers were moving over it, slowly and steadily.

After a long time, the Emperor at last returned to his seat and looked at Jiang Qihai. “Continue. I want to know — if everything Princess Wu does is correct, every response flawless — what would be the true odds? Don’t spare me. Give me your honest assessment.”

Jiang Qihai was silent for a moment, then bowed his head. “Three in ten.”

He had known the odds were poor. And yet he had been the one to urge the Emperor to approve Princess Wu’s request.

Because Chu had come to this point now. The Emperor had held on until now. The one thing that could not be lost was the people’s hearts.

If the Emperor sent no army to rescue Prince Wu, the people of Daxing City would say the Emperor was heartless and faithless.

And it was only Daxing City that remained now.

Three in ten?

The Emperor turned something over in his hand, his gaze distant and still.

Yuan Ying only then saw clearly what it was.

A jade hairpin.

The Empress’s jade hairpin.