Before leaving the capital, the members of the dowry entourage had been learning the northern tribal language at Princess Baohua’s request. Yet with so many people forced to leave their homeland, each one grief-stricken, and so many affairs to manage before the long journey, no one was in any mood for it. The interpreters’ work was off to a very poor start.

Once the journey was underway, Xie Yuzhang learned of this and invited Yuan Yu over to seek his counsel.

Yuan Yu was a man with his feet firmly on the ground. He said, “There was once a man who dangled a bunch of vegetables a foot in front of a donkey’s head. That donkey, desperate to reach the greens, never stopped its hooves and ran a full hundred li. People are the same — they need something to strive for.”

Xie Yuzhang had a sudden realization.

In the past, all of these matters had been handled by Lin Fei. She really should have thought of it sooner.

Thinking of Lin Fei, a wave of sorrow flashed through her heart. But she remained firmly convinced that what she had done was right. Compared to the Duke’s estate, the grasslands had inflicted far too much pain on Lin Fei. She never wanted her to go through those things again.

“We could offer cash rewards. Anyone willing to attend lessons and study each day would receive one,” Xie Yuzhang proposed, seeking his advice. “How much does Yuan Yu think would be appropriate per day?”

Yuan Yu held up a single finger.

“One hundred coins?” Xie Yuzhang nodded. “That works — it’s only one or two hundred guan a day after all, not much.”

She glanced up, only to find Yuan Yu pressing his hand to his forehead.

“…” Xie Yuzhang said, “Yuan Yu?”

“One coin! Your Highness,” Yuan Yu said, caught between tears and laughter. “One coin per person per day is sufficient.”

Xie Yuzhang’s phoenix eyes went wide. “Pardon?”

In all her life, she had never had to think about money in units as small as a single coin. Not during her time in Yunjing, nor later on the grasslands, nor afterward when she came to live at the Marquis Xiaoyao’s estate, where Li Gu had always treated the household with great generosity and never skimped on their food, clothing, shelter, or travel.

Xie Yuzhang was often summoned into the palace by Empress Zhang Fen, and currency had always flowed freely in the inner court — but even in her most impoverished moments, she had never been reduced to dealing in single coins. Lin Fei had always kept her purse stuffed with small silver ingots for tips and gratuities.

“It’s not as though we’re asking them to perform hard labor — they’re merely learning to speak. One coin per person per day is more than enough,” Yuan Yu said. “Your Highness, my own monthly salary is only twenty-five guan, and Ma Jianye earns even less — only twenty-two guan.”

Xie Yuzhang broke into a smile and teased him: “Is Yuan Yu implying that this Princess is paying him too little?”

Yuan Yu stroked his beard and replied, “As for a salary increase — there’s no hurry on that matter. Slowly, slowly. No rush at all.”

The two of them burst out laughing.

When the laughter subsided, Xie Yuzhang added, “Still, one coin does seem rather too little. How about we establish an additional incentive? For each interpreter’s group, the top three learners — whoever studies best and fastest each day — will each be rewarded with… with one hundred coins.”

She had learned her lesson this time; she had been about to say one guan, but changed it at the last moment to one hundred coins.

Yuan Yu laughed heartily and clapped his hands. “Excellent.”

Had she not seen it with her own eyes, Xie Yuzhang would never have believed that a single coin could hold such tremendous motivating power — particularly the top-three reward structure. People who had previously been listless and inattentive suddenly threw themselves into their studies as though they had been injected with new life.

When it became clear that the reward wasn’t limited to the individual learner but extended to family members traveling with them as well, entire households mobilized.

For several days running, the one hundred coins for the top three in each group were swept up by a pack of young children. Many of the adults were green with envy and redoubled their efforts, only to discover that grown-ups were, across the board, no match for these little ones.

And so it became a competition among the children of each family, with parents quietly cheering from behind.

In no time at all, the entire mood of the convoy was completely transformed.

“As long as there’s something to strive for…” Xie Yuzhang murmured, taking in this entirely new atmosphere.

In this life of hers — wasn’t it also because of that tiny, tiny thread of something to strive for that the road ahead no longer felt so frightening?

She smiled softly and lowered the curtain of the carriage window.

Nearly two months into the journey, by the time the convoy reached the boundary marker of Liangzhou, everyone had already put on the new padded coats that had been distributed.

Out of compassion for Xie Yuzhang from the Emperor and the Crown Prince, not a single item in her convoy was lacking, and the quality of everything could genuinely be called quite fine.

These padded coats had been uniformly made and issued. Not only was the fabric thick and sturdy, but the inner lining was densely quilted with kapok and hemp floss. The thickness was something many households would have found difficult to afford on their own. Worn now, the coats were wonderfully warm.

And yet Xie Yuzhang knew that against the cold of Mobei, even kapok and hemp floss would prove insufficient.

She remembered arriving in Mobei that first time, when a sudden plunge in temperature had caught her convoy unprepared, and a number of people had suffered frostbite — some had even frozen to death.

Thinking of this now, then looking at the people in the convoy who were so enthusiastically throwing themselves into learning the northern tongue, her heart filled with guilt.

They had all come beyond the frontier walls because of her, and she had failed to take proper care of them.

“Yuan Yu, how are the sheepskin coats coming along for everyone?” Xie Yuzhang asked.

“Almost done, Your Highness need not worry.” Yuan Yu smiled and replied.

In the eyes of the court, a thick padded coat was already more than enough for these people. If some suffered frostbite or froze to death after reaching the frontier — that was simply normal “attrition.”

Yet Princess Baohua would rather spend her own money to purchase large quantities of sheepskin than accept a single instance of such “attrition.”

The trouble was, the convoy numbered well over a thousand people. Purchasing in Yunjing presented two problems: first, there was no way to source such a large quantity at short notice; and second, buying in such volume would drive up sheepskin prices almost immediately, disrupting the market. So Yuan Yu had arranged with fur traders from the northwest that there was no need to haul their goods all the way to Yunjing. Since the convoy was headed north anyway, the traders simply needed to deliver along the route they would be traveling.

This way, the traders’ costs were reduced, Yuan Yu secured a more favorable price, and a considerable sum was saved on Xie Yuzhang’s behalf — though he knew perfectly well that this princess did not give a second thought to such amounts. Still, managing carefully, calculating prudently, and making sound arrangements on her behalf was precisely the purpose of his role as her household steward.

And so, as Xie Yuzhang’s convoy traveled onward, they collected goods directly from the stockpiles of several fur traders along the way, distributing the sheepskins gradually as they went.

The women received the cured hides and set to work sewing coats. Naturally they started with their own families’ coats first; once those were done, the unmarried men in the convoy would come seeking their help, and for thirty or fifty coins apiece, the women would stitch the hides into coats for them too.

This was not the delicate work of tailoring fine garments — thick thread, simple shapes that a person could actually wear, that was all that was needed. Worked on piece by piece, the work moved quickly.

The further north they traveled, the colder it grew. But when the people felt the thick coats on their backs and ran their hands over the sheepskins still bundled in their packs and not yet worn, they felt far more settled in their hearts than they had when they first left Yunjing.

With the benevolent Princess Baohua, the practical Yuan Steward, and the honest and reliable Wang Captain — perhaps the road ahead was not so frightening after all.

Oh, and what about Ma Captain, you ask? Haven’t you noticed how sharp and fierce his face looks? Let me tell you, keep our girls well away from him!

The day they reached the Liangzhou boundary marker, snow began to drift down from the sky. Snowy days were not particularly cold — but the ground gradually turned white and grew slippery underfoot.

Xie Yuzhang was resting with her eyes closed inside the carriage, leaning against the warming brazier, when the vehicle gradually slowed and came to a stop.

Xie Yuzhang opened her eyes.

“Your Highness.” Ma Jianye’s voice came from outside the carriage, reporting, “A delegation from the Military Governor of Hexi has come to welcome the royal party. His Highness the Prince and the Fifth Prince, along with the other officials, have gone to the front to make contact.”

Xie Yuzhang asked, “Who came?”

Ma Jianye replied, “I understand it is the son of Lord Li.”

“The fourth young master, Li Si Lang?”

“This subordinate does not know.”

In the presence of those men, Ma Jianye was of low rank — nothing more than a captain — not even worthy of being called “General.” It was no surprise that he did not know.

But Xie Yuzhang had no wish to give him the opportunity to show his face before those men either. She said, “Please ask Yuan Yu to go ahead and find out exactly who has come.”

Ma Jianye accepted the order and left.

After a short while, Yuan Yu rode over on horseback and reported from outside the window: “Two generals have arrived — Lord Li’s son, Li Si Lang, and Lord Li’s adopted son, the one ranked eleventh. General Liu is currently completing the handover with the two Li generals.”

For the entire journey of the peace-offering convoy, provisions had been sourced locally along the way, with local forces providing escort. In this manner, the traveling expenses were transferred from the central treasury to the local governments along the route.

General Liu, who had escorted them from the capital all the way here, needed only to hand this long convoy over to those dispatched by the Military Governor of Hexi, and his mission would be considered successfully completed.

Inside the carriage, Xie Yuzhang’s half-closed eyes slowly opened.

Li Gu had come.

In her previous life — had he come too?

Xie Yuzhang did not know.

In her previous life, snow had fallen at this place as well. There had been mud on the ground, and horse hooves had splashed it up as they passed.

What lay ahead was for her royal uncle and her fifth brother to handle. Xie Yuzhang stepped onto the reed mat in the roadside lodging and saw no one. She had not cared. Regardless of whom Li Ming sent to receive her or escort her onward, she had not cared. After all, she was a princess — a woman of the inner court — and there was no rule that required her to meet with those men.

Having her royal uncle and fifth brother was enough.

When they reached Liangzhou and Li Ming hosted a banquet in her honor, she had not attended that either, but lay listlessly hidden in her room, without exchanging so much as a word with any of those people.

A full incense-stick’s time passed before those men completed their handover, and the sound of approaching hoofbeats drew near.

Very shortly, they stopped beside her carriage, and someone swung down from the saddle. A young man’s voice rang out, introducing himself as Li Qi, son of Li Ming, come to welcome the royal party. He added that the road ahead some fifteen li would bring them to a post station — with snow falling and the roads slippery today, he respectfully requested that Her Highness the Princess halt at the post station early and rest as soon as possible.

Because of the snow, the sky outside was somewhat overcast, the light poor. And her carriage had a lamp burning inside, so when she looked outward through the curtain, she could only make out two blurry figures — one ahead of the other. She could roughly discern that the man behind Li Qi was Li Gu, but making out his expression and demeanor was impossible.

Xie Yuzhang thanked Li Qi, then thought for a moment. Ultimately unwilling to let pass any opportunity to meet with Li Gu, she disregarded propriety and lifted the bamboo curtain by a small crack, revealing half her face, and asked with feigned surprise: “Is that Shiyi Lang behind you?”

Half a face like a hibiscus blossom — enough to leave Li Qi entirely dumbstruck.

Li Gu, however, seemed somehow different from when he had been in Yunjing. When he raised his head to reply “Indeed it is — this subordinate pays his respects to Your Highness,” though he wore no armor, he carried the cold edge of a newly sharpened blade.

Xie Yuzhang clutched the bamboo curtain and found herself holding her breath for a moment.

In the capital, Li Gu had indeed been deliberately restraining himself. Now, young and unpolished as he still was, he could not conceal the sharp aura of Li Ming’s foremost killing general.

Yet though he and Xie Yuzhang could be considered old acquaintances meeting again, his greeting was so terse — no, it was not even a greeting at all. He had merely answered her question.

Xie Yuzhang understood then that Li Gu, at this moment, still had reservations.

She cast a glance at Li Qi — this man destined for an early death.

Li Qi was a little taller than his father Li Ming, but otherwise cast from the same mold — solid and stocky, with a face that was the spitting image of Li Ming’s, naturally carrying a somewhat rustic air. His shrewdness and commanding presence were nowhere near his father’s. A tiger’s son was still only a large cat.

And yet even so, Li Gu had to stand a half-step behind him.

The future Emperor, at this moment, still served beneath another.

Xie Yuzhang curved her lips into a smile and said, “I did not expect to see the General again. It is cold — the Generals should mount up quickly.”

With that, she lowered the bamboo curtain and even pushed the window shut from within.

The convoy received the order to set off, and the hardwood wheels turned once more.

Only Li Qi remained standing there in a daze. It took two calls from Li Gu to bring him back to his senses. He seized Li Gu’s arm and asked in astonishment: “Was that Princess Baohua?”

Li Gu glanced at him. “Did Si Lang not just speak with Her Highness the Princess?” He swung up into his saddle as he spoke.

Li Qi also mounted, his eyes still fixed unblinkingly on Xie Yuzhang’s jade-green canopied carriage, murmuring, “She is far too beautiful!”

Li Gu said nothing.

Every young man in the world with eyes in his head who saw Princess Baohua for the first time experienced much the same thing.

Li Gu knew very well that rush of feeling that struck you in the first instant. That first glimpse at the front steps of the Hanliang Palace — he had never forgotten it. Whenever the memory surfaced, that sensation lingered in his chest, inexplicably stirring a restlessness in his heart.

He had barely urged his horse forward a few steps when he suddenly heard Li Qi beside him slap his saddle furiously. “This infuriates me beyond all measure!”

Li Gu frowned. “Si Lang?”

“Someone like her — and she’s to be sent to that old cur Ashina!” Li Qi was beside himself with rage. “It truly infuriates me!”

Li Gu glanced at the party led by National Preceptor Abazha ahead of them and said, “Watch your words.”

“Shiyi Lang, you don’t understand!” Li Qi drew his horse closer to Li Gu and lowered his voice. “Father had originally wanted me to marry Princess Baohua! It was all because of that old cur Liu Congyi, who let the northern tribesmen pass through Yunzhou and enter the capital — ruining so many of Father’s arrangements!”

And yet, had Li Ming not continuously annexed the territories of his neighbors and expanded his power to the point where the Emperor felt deeply threatened, why would the Emperor have accepted so many unreasonable and excessive demands from the Mobei Khanate in order to keep Li Ming in check?

The root cause of Xie Yuzhang being sent to Mobei in marriage ultimately lay with Hexi.

Noble-born as she was, golden branch and jade leaf, in the face of such great tides of power, she too was like a drifting water plant — utterly powerless to determine her own fate.

The hand with which Li Gu held the reins tightened.

Li Qi continued, “Ah, it truly enrages me! I had no idea she was so beautiful! I thought the rumors greatly exaggerated, but I never imagined — they actually fall far short! It enrages me! It enrages me! If only the Princess had married me, how wonderful that would have been!”

Li Gu heard this, and turned to look steadily at Li Qi.

When it came to military might, Hexi was naturally the foremost in the realm.

For over twenty years now, the military governors had been passing the title of “military governor” brazenly on to their own sons. No matter how unwilling the court might be, it could only hold its nose and issue a letter of appointment recognizing the legitimacy of such succession.

Li Qi was Li Ming’s only son — the heir to the powerful, battle-hardened territories of Hexi.

“Si Lang is right,” said Li Gu, gazing at the long convoy stretched out beside him, his voice as light as snowflakes falling. “If the Princess were to marry Si Lang… that would be the very best outcome.”

If she were to marry into Hexi, she could live very well — safe and secure, with no cause for worry.

What a fine thing that would be.