“Awake?”

Xiao Hu glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings, pressed her hands to the bed boards, and tried to sit up.

“Don’t move—”

Li Que had barely gotten the words out before she sat up anyway, bringing the quilt with her. The embroidered-swallow coverlet slipped down on its own.

Her injuries had already been tended to. The binding cloth that had wrapped her chest was gone. Beneath her loosely opened inner garment, there were only layers upon layers of tightly wound gauze, and at the lowest layer, a trace of crimson where the wound had seeped through.

She tried moving her arms and legs. A tearing, dull pain radiated from all over her body.

Xiao Hu grimaced and hissed through clenched teeth, though the words she spoke carried a roguish grin.

“I don’t care either way — why are you the one embarrassed?”

Li Que sat at the round table, his back turned to her, his voice hard and flat. “And what gave you the idea I’m embarrassed?”

“Then why did you turn away?”

Xiao Hu lifted the quilt, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and stepped into her shoes.

“Where are my clothes?”

Li Que’s voice was heavy with disdain. “A servant took them to be washed. They were so filthy they’d gone stiff — goodness knows how many days it had been since they were last cleaned.”

“You’re slandering my good name,” Xiao Hu said, deeply indignant. “You go roll around in the floodwaters and your clothes will look exactly the same as mine… Hey, Sparrowhead — if there are no clothes, what am I supposed to wear?”

The title “Sparrowhead” earned her one-tenth of a sidelong glance from Li Que. Even that tiny sliver of the corner of his eye was enough for Xiao Hu to feel the profound contempt he wasn’t bothering to voice.

“You can go out just as you are,” Li Que said with a cutting edge. “After all, you clearly don’t know what the word ‘shame’ means.”

“…Did you eat gunpowder today?” Xiao Hu said. “You can’t still be upset about that blade, can you? We’re even — can’t we just call it settled? You nearly cost me my life, and I haven’t even brought it up—”

Li Que was about to retort when Xiao Hu, already limping her way over to stand in front of him, turned around and pulled down the back of her inner garment to reveal the gauze beneath — and beneath it, a long, fresh scar.

The wound from that day had already closed and the scab had shed, leaving behind a scar as wide as two fingers, livid and brutal, like a jagged mountain range running from the right side of her lower back under the gauze all the way up to her left shoulder blade.

That slash had nearly taken her entire back.

“This one blade almost took my whole life — have I complained? We’re both rough and tough — why do you have to be so petty?”

Li Que’s face was without expression. “I am rough and tough. You are not. And you brought it on yourself, reaping what you sowed.”

“Ridiculous! I hadn’t even done anything yet at that point! You tried to use a borrowed blade to kill me without even knowing whether I was a good person or a bad one — what if I’d turned out to be a good person?”

Li Que gave a cold laugh. “Are you a good person?”

Xiao Hu thought it over seriously. “Not entirely bad.”

Li Que answered with a single scornful laugh.

“All right, we’re on the same side now — why not down eight or ten jars of wine together and let bygones be bygones, yes?”

The moment Xiao Hu placed her hand on Li Que’s shoulder, Li Que shot to his feet, shook her hand off, and turned his back on her again.

He snapped:

“You have no clothes on and you’re putting your hands on people — have you no sense of decency whatsoever?!”

“You didn’t prepare any clothes for me, and now you’re calling me indecent—” Xiao Hu’s patience ran out entirely. Whatever intention she’d had to get along peacefully with Li Que vanished from her mind. Without a second thought, she said, “Maybe you didn’t prepare any clothes on purpose because you wanted a peek. You’re the one with no decency!”

Li Que, his face ashen with fury, turned back around — abandoning all pretense of propriety — and said through gritted teeth:

“I. Wanted a peek. At you?”

“What’s going on here?” At the very moment the argument was about to escalate, Shen Zhuxi walked in from outside carrying a bundle of clothing. When she saw Xiao Hu in her state of undress in front of Li Que, she was so startled she stuttered. “Xiao Hu, you — you… put your clothes on quickly.”

“Is this Xiangyang?” Xiao Hu said, startled. “How did you send me back here?”

“If I hadn’t brought you back, were you going to stay in the army camp looking like that?” Li Que said coldly, then turned to address Shen Zhuxi in a tone that was instantly warm as a spring breeze. “Since sister-in-law is here, I’ll take my leave. Elder Brother still needs people.”

“Off you go then. Be careful—” Shen Zhuxi said. “And tell Li Wu to take care of himself and not push beyond his limits.”

“Of course. Sister-in-law, stay home and rest easy. I’ll keep an eye on Elder Brother.” Li Que smiled.

In her heart, Xiao Hu thought: this two-faced sparrow’s ability to switch expressions is truly something extraordinary.

“Wait — I’m going too.” Xiao Hu grabbed the clothes from Shen Zhuxi’s hands, ready to change on the spot. “I can swim. I’ll be dressed in a moment, I…”

Xiao Hu stopped. She looked down at the garment she had shaken open in her hands.

“…What on earth is this?”

“It’s a skirt!” Shen Zhuxi said brightly. “There’s also an upper robe and an outer garment. I chose a teal blue set based on what I thought you’d like — do you like it?”

Xiao Hu was just about to refuse when Shen Zhuxi’s expression fell slightly. “The clothes are ones I’ve worn myself. Please don’t mind that…the new ones are all…”

Shen Zhuxi trailed off without finishing, then looked back up at her with a smile. “Even though they’ve been worn before, you truly can’t tell! Really — look closely!”

Shen Zhuxi’s eyes were bright and full of eager anticipation. When those eyes focused on you with such earnest attention, it was very hard to hold onto your own position.

Xiao Hu found herself led off course without noticing, and somehow ended up accepting the unfamiliar feminine garments. By the time she came back to herself, Li Que had long since vanished out the door.

“…Why do I have to wear women’s clothing?” She said, her expression conflicted.

“You’ve been injured all over. The doctor says you need at least a month of rest before anything else. During that time, you’ll stay here at the Li residence. Women’s clothes won’t draw attention, and it’ll be easier for me to look after you.”

Xiao Hu did not want to rest, but the pain radiating from every part of her body left her no choice but to abandon the idea.

She let out a sigh, took the clothes, and began to put them on.

Once she was dressed, she sat down at the table and studied the weariness on Shen Zhuxi’s face. “You didn’t sleep all night?”

Shen Zhuxi glossed over the question. “…I’m back to sleep now, aren’t I.”

“You were scared?”

Xiao Hu mistakenly thought she had been kept awake by fear. But once Shen Zhuxi told her the real reason she had been up all night, Xiao Hu sat and stared at her for a long moment.

“…Is there something on my face?” Shen Zhuxi asked, feeling self-conscious as she touched her cheek.

“You’re different from the women in the stronghold who only know how to scheme against one another,” Xiao Hu said.

“I’m not.” Shen Zhuxi shook her head in disagreement. “Circumstances shape people. If anyone were given the choice, no one would choose to live a life of nothing but scheming.”

Xiao Hu was quiet for a moment, reflective.

“The medicine has been kept warm. Drink it quickly, then go back to sleep for a bit.” Shen Zhuxi said with a smile.

Xiao Hu didn’t want to sleep, but knowing that if she didn’t, Shen Zhuxi would not go rest either, she did as she was told and drained the medicine bowl in one go.

She set the empty bowl down. A candied fruit appeared in front of her eyes.

Xiao Hu looked up. Shen Zhuxi smiled at her. She swallowed whatever it was she had been about to say, and put the candied fruit in her mouth.

“Do you know why the Shangjiang Weir collapsed?” Shen Zhuxi asked with a puzzled look.

Xiao Hu shook her head. “When it happened, both armies were in the middle of fighting. We first heard an unusual boom, and then the rumbling began rolling without end, and the ground started shaking. Li Qia ordered us to keep pressing the attack, and then not long after… the flood came.”

“And Li Qia?” Shen Zhuxi pressed with a frown.

“After the flood came, no one has seen him since.” Xiao Hu said. “With water that fierce, and with him wearing a full set of heavy armor… I would imagine…”

If that was the case, Li Qia’s survival seemed very unlikely.

If the Military Commissioner of Zhenchuan were to die, the unchecked Zhenchuan Army and the local officials might well stir up trouble once again…

Shen Zhuxi’s brow remained furrowed. Beside her, Xiao Hu was also knitting her own.

Just before the floodwaters came, she had heard two distinct sounds: a brief explosive blast, followed by a sustained, continuous roar.

She had once detonated a cliffside with her own hands to fake a collapse. That first sharp sound — it had unmistakably been an explosion.

…

“Well?”

Li Wu reached down and hauled Niuwang, who had surfaced from the water, up onto the raft.

Niuwang gasped for air and shook his head. “I can only dive down to about seven or eight zhang at most. The crack in the embankment is even deeper than that.”

“Do we still need to find proof?!” Er’hu said impatiently from the raft. “When has anything this convenient ever happened in this world — just when someone needed a pillow, not only did a pillow arrive, they sent the whole bed along too! He’s Fu Xuanmiao, not the son of the Jade Emperor!”

“Without proof, how are you going to deal with him? Are you going to go out and tell the world with that mouth of yours that the number one gentleman under heaven blew up the Shangjiang Weir? Who’s going to believe you over Fu Xuanmiao?” said Da Hu.

“So we’re just supposed to swallow this insult?!” Er’hu said.

“There’s an old saying — as long as the green hills remain, there’s no shortage of firewood—” Li Wu peeled off his outer robe and tossed it to the drenched Niuwang, then took up a paddle and walked to the head of the raft. “This time, you three brothers escaping with your lives is already the best outcome you could have hoped for amid such misfortune. Everything else can wait.”

“Wait? You don’t mean to just let this go, do you?” Er’hu narrowed his eyes with suspicion.

“He who walks often along the riverbank will sooner or later get his shoes wet.” Li Wu stood barefoot on the raft. Clear water seeped up through the gaps between the planks and lapped around his feet. “When he finally gets his shoes wet—”

A river wind carrying the scent of mud swept across the water’s surface, and a few strands of dark hair brushed across Li Wu’s angular jaw.

“They’ll be soaked in his own blood.”

After coming ashore, Li Wu dried his feet and pulled on his boots, then turned to address the others.

“I need to return to Xiangyang. The rest of you go back to the camp and rest. Niuwang — make sure to send a detachment to relieve the soldiers on disaster relief duty.”

“Master, leave it to me!” Niuwang called out loudly.

Li Kun had barely taken a step toward Li Wu when Li Wu said:

“Diao’er stays behind. Wait here for Que’er to return.”

Li Kun looked deeply displeased. “Roasted chicken… I want roasted chicken and little piggies.”

“When I come back, I’ll make you noodles.”

“Elder Brother’s making noodles for me?!” Li Kun’s eyes lit up with sudden delight.

Li Wu suppressed the urge to hit him, gave a wave of his hand, and walked toward the horse tied to a nearby tree. He swung himself into the saddle.

“Go!”

The reins snapped, and the bay horse surged forward.

Li Wu’s expression was grave as he rode, his brow deeply furrowed.

With something this devastating having happened, he had no idea how things were back home for that oblivious woman. Although the floodwaters hadn’t reached Xiangyang Prefecture, the neighboring Fangzhou had been struck by disaster, and waves of refugees would certainly be pouring in.

That woman, having seen it all — who knows how many tears she’d have shed by now.

Right… and then there was Fangzhou. With Fangzhou’s refugees flooding in, the good-for-nothings in the prefectural administration would certainly take the easy way out and refuse them all at the gate.

Once the number of refugees gathered outside the city grew large enough, resentment would boil over, and a riot would be all but inevitable.

Most of Xiangyang Prefecture’s military strength had been conscripted into the allied forces. What remained to defend the city was nothing but the old, the weak, the sick, and the infirm. If a riot broke out, the consequences would be unthinkable.

Li Wu rode through the night without stopping, his heart full of worry.

When sunrise came from the east and the city gates of Xiangyang County appeared on the horizon, what met his eyes was a scene entirely unlike anything he had imagined.