Though the Fuzhou troops had suffered defeat after defeat, spies had brought back word that in recent days the enemy camp appeared to be stirring once more. Li Liang still seemed unwilling to admit defeat and accept withdrawal.
He could not afford to lose again. If he launched one more assault, it would surely be an all-out effort. And so, this side at Yunmeng was keeping its forces sharp and vigilant, without the slightest sign of relaxing its guard.
Not only that — Mu Fulan had also swiftly approved the battle plan proposed by Yuan Handing: rather than remaining in a purely defensive position, they would strike while the enemy was not yet ready and launch a surprise attack, catching them off guard, in order to completely crush the enemy’s main force. Secret preparations for the operation were already underway when, early that morning, spies brought yet another report: that the night before, the enemy camp had been spotted pulling up stakes under cover of darkness and withdrawing northward.
By the following day, all their troops had pulled out entirely. The plain where they had encamped was left barren and empty, with nothing remaining but the tattered tents the Fuzhou soldiers had abandoned as they fled.
The Fuzhou forces had retreated in defeat.
For the people and soldiers of the Kingdom of Changsha, the experiences of these past six months or more had brought a shock so immense that to call it unprecedented in two hundred years would be no exaggeration whatsoever.
After a brief moment of pride and reflected glory, they had found themselves, against their will, severed from the distant imperial court, branded as rebels, stripped of their king, and then war had descended once again, openly and without concealment, upon the borders of the Kingdom of Changsha.
As bewilderment, fear, and a deep rootlessness spread through the hearts of the people, this victory was like the sun breaking through dark clouds — the radiance it cast drove away every trace of the gloom that had hung over the Kingdom of Changsha, until not a shadow remained.
They had lost their king, but they had not been abandoned. The Mu clan’s regent Imperial Princess had stepped forward, and just as her father and grandfather before her, she was still watching over them.
On this day, in and around Yunmeng, cries of joy rang out one after another, rising and falling without cease.
In the military encampment outside the city, the soldiers were celebrating their victory in high spirits when they saw the regent Imperial Princess appear.
Not long after the war had begun, she had come to this place. In addition to overseeing the battles, she had personally led army physicians and a number of palace women she had trained to tend to the wounded in the infirmary, treating the injuries of those brought down from the battlefield.
Now, their noble and beautiful Imperial Princess arrived at the encampment in full ceremonial attire, riding a war chariot, escorted by a guard of soldiers in gleaming armor.
She mounted the high platform. Raising a cup of wine in both hands, she offered it to the countless soldiers standing in orderly formation before her, thanking them for the blood and sacrifice they had given in their loyalty to the Mu royal clan and their protection of the Kingdom of Changsha.
“I, Mu Fulan, at this moment, swear upon the spirits of every Mu clan king of every generation: no matter when, should enemies again come to kill — I will be with you!”
“So long as you brave warriors do not retreat, I, Mu Fulan, will not leave! We advance and withdraw together, sharing fortune and hardship alike!”
Her voice rang out clear and bright, resonant and powerful, spreading on the wind in every direction.
The signal officers below the platform swiftly relayed it from a hundred mouths to a thousand, from a thousand to ten thousand, carrying her words into every last corner.
On that open plain, the cold wind swept fiercely past. Yet not a single soldier among those who had just come down from the carnage of battle failed to have their blood run hot. Every drop of blood coursing through their veins surged and clamored, urging them, impatient, to answer her.
No one is born loving war — but if war was their fate regardless, who would not want to fight to protect their regent Imperial Princess, so noble and so stirring?
Yuan Handing looked up at Mu Fulan upon the high platform, his eyes not blinking once.
In this moment, his heart was filled with emotions — roiling and contradictory.
He could not say when it had begun, but she was no longer the same familiar Wang daughter, Mu Fulan, whom he had grown up alongside since childhood.
Something inside him told him: she was growing further and further from him.
Yet his sense of loss was quickly overwhelmed and replaced by another surging emotion that erupted from within.
He was willing to bow down, to kneel at her feet, to serve at her command, to be her warrior — to take up the sword in his hand and protect the nobility and beauty she carried in this moment. Even if it cost him his life, he would not hesitate.
“We swear loyalty unto death — may Your Highness reign for a thousand years!”
He cried out, leading the thousands upon thousands of soldiers behind him as they dropped to one knee before Mu Fulan on the high platform, offering up the most devoted response of their hearts.
“We swear loyalty unto death — may Your Highness reign for a thousand years!”
It was as though thunder had erupted from level ground. The soldiers’ voices resounded across the open fields, rising straight into the sky.
In the wilderness surrounding the military camp, crowds surged — the city’s people who had come to witness the ceremony. Not a single one was without tears, and they too knelt and bowed one after another in kind.
Deep within the crowd, a single figure stood motionless, gazing from a distance at the silhouette on the high platform.
People were everywhere. Not a soul paid any attention to this ordinarily dressed man mingling within the throng.
He watched that figure — familiar to him, yet seeming all at once so completely strange — step down from the platform, mount the war chariot, and depart amid the wave upon wave of triumphant cheers pouring from the tens of thousands of soldiers, gradually receding and finally vanishing from his sight.
……
The Fuzhou troops had retreated. The officials of the Kingdom of Changsha also understood that the imperial court — or rather, Xie Changgeng — was currently pressing against Changping Pass, dealing with Prince Qi’s Eastern court, and for the time being would have no energy to spare for launching another major campaign requiring a long southward march across the river.
Since the king’s passing, the dark clouds that had gathered above the heads of the court and the people had at last dispersed. Not only had the officials headed by Lu Lin let out a collective breath of relief, but the common people were everywhere retelling the scene of the regent Imperial Princess leading the Yunmeng troops in celebration at the front, stirred and moved beyond words. No one could have imagined that the man who had once married their princess — the man they despised and feared — was, at this very moment, right here among them.
That night, the sky held no moonlight. Xie Changgeng’s silhouette was like a darkened tree, absorbed into the shadows along the lakeshore.
The battle at Yunmeng had ended, and after she had concluded the ceremonial celebration with the troops, she had returned to Yuecheng. He had ordered the men who had followed him out to wait under arms outside the city, while he alone entered alone and moved in secret for several days. Learning that she had left the city this evening, he knew that at this moment she was on the other side, separated from him by the waters of Dongting.
Several days had passed. Yet now, when he closed his eyes, it seemed as though he could still hear the loyal battle cries the Changsha soldiers had raised for her that day across the open plain of Yunmeng.
Her ability to command people’s hearts was a match for any commander who could only establish authority through iron and blood. Words so clear and resonant, spoken from within so delicate and beautiful an exterior, magnified this power to move people’s hearts a thousandfold, as effortlessly as breathing.
He had never known this woman could have such a side to her.
Her position was no longer what it had once been. Because of her presence, the only crossing point leading to Junshan Island was tonight thick with sentries, and along the shores of the lake, there was not a single small boat to be found that could carry him to Junshan.
He stood motionless on the lakeshore, gazing across the deep water at that hazy mountain rising from the lake — its undulating black ridge traced in outline against the dark and sunken night sky. He turned over in his mind one after another the unanswerable questions that tormented him, wondering what she was thinking at this moment, what she was doing. Unable any longer to suppress the fierce impulse that was tearing at him from within, he waded down into the water, plunged in headfirst, and began to swim out toward that distant peak rising from the darkness.
He understood full well what Dongting was — vast as a sea where it met the river, with ferocious waves when the wind rose, and treacherous undercurrents lurking beneath. He knew all of this.
But no matter how deep these Dongting waters ran, no matter how far, no matter how fierce the undercurrents — none of it could stop him tonight from crossing through to the other side. It was a thought that bordered on madness.
The freezing water rushed at him from every direction, but it could not extinguish the flame of urgency burning in his heart.
Like a blade cleaving through water, driven by something that felt almost like instinct, he held his breath and swam forward in that pitch-black, ice-cold winter night — untiring, relentless, pressing on.
……
After Wang-xiong had passed, his wife had been devastated with grief. She had managed to endure the period of national mourning, but then fell ill. During the fighting at the Yunmeng front, the day-to-day affairs of state in Yuecheng’s palace had all been managed by the Chancellor, Lu Lin. He was well practiced in these matters, but certain important affairs still needed to wait for Mu Fulan to discuss and decide. Upon returning from Yunmeng, Mu Fulan had not even had a moment to catch her breath before she was seeing to her sister-in-law’s illness, handling affairs of state, buried in one thing after another.
Tomorrow she was to inspect the military arsenals at the Zheshan Island fortress in the heart of the lake. To ensure she could return to the city the same day, she had set out one day early — leaving quietly this evening under Yuan Handing’s escort — intending to spend the night at Junshan, from which she could depart the following morning and shorten the water route.
She brought Xi’er along with her. By the time they arrived at the Medicine Retreat, it was already late.
She saw Xi’er settled into his room and offered to stay until he fell asleep. Xi’er shook his head: “Mother, I’m old enough now. I can sleep on my own. You should go rest early — you don’t need to keep me company.”
Mu Fulan knew he was looking out for her. She smiled, ruffled his hair, told the servant girl to take good care of the child, and went out, returning to her own room.
There was no longer anyone before her whom she needed to hold herself tensely together for.
She felt utterly drained. In that one instant, it seemed as though the very frame of her bones was about to fall apart.
Nanny Mu had come along as well, and had prepared a tub of steaming hot water for her bath.
Mu Fulan soaked in the hot water for a while, then got out and went to bed.
She was fond of Junshan. Whenever she came here, no matter how many troubles weighed on her mind, no matter how many worries she carried, she could relax quickly and find a calm stillness.
If there was truly a paradise somewhere in this world, then this Junshan rising from the heart of the lake was her paradise.
But tonight, she lay there for a long while, unable to fall asleep. She got up, pushed open the window, and gazed out at the thick blackness of the night beyond — until gradually, she lost herself in her thoughts.
Nanny Mu quietly pushed the door open. Seeing she had not yet fallen asleep, she sighed, came in, urged her to get into bed, then closed the window herself and sat beside her, gently kneading her legs and feet.
Mu Fulan lay with her face pressed into the pillow and closed her eyes for a moment, then told Nanny Mu to go rest.
Nanny Mu looked at her profile — tired even in stillness — and said softly: “Imperial Princess, the Fuzhou troops have withdrawn. Are you still worried they may return? Do try to ease your heart and not think too much. Should they truly come again, soldiers come, generals meet them. I hear that the soldiers hold you in the deepest respect and admiration, and would surely give everything in battle.”
Mu Fulan knew that Nanny Mu was really speaking out of worry for her, and not wishing her to be so constantly weighted down, she said: “Nanny Mu, I’m not worried. You needn’t worry for me either. The Fuzhou troops won’t be coming back. If my guess is right, Li Liang’s sudden retreat must have something to do with Xie Changgeng. At least, until he can swallow up Prince Qi’s Eastern court, he should have no reason to deliberately come after us again.”
Only then did understanding dawn on Nanny Mu. She hesitated a moment, then asked: “Could it be that he is grateful to you for rescuing his mother and has therefore let us be?”
Mu Fulan opened her eyes and shook her head. She smiled faintly: “Nanny Mu, you’ve read him wrong — it’s not that he’s grateful to me. It’s that he calculates.”
“This man is wildly ambitious — just like Prince Qi, he wants to be Emperor. He is also selfish and cold by nature. But he is a devoted son, and the one person he truly cares for is his mother. In everything he does, he advances with careful, measured steps, unwilling to take unnecessary risks. When Zhao Xitai seized his mother, I can only imagine how his heart burned. But had he sent troops to force a rescue, even if he got her back, the cost would have been enormous.”
“Because of Wang-xiong’s military campaign, he had already suffered considerable losses. If he then had to pay yet another price to rescue his mother on top of that, it might have compromised the great enterprise he has spent years planning. When I helped to return his mother to him at that moment, it was no less than sending firewood in a snowstorm. He is intelligent enough to understand that I was extending an olive branch.”
“Beyond extending that olive branch, I released his spy and had him carry back the royal seal that Wang-xiong had split in two. A man as shrewd as he is — would he not understand? I was telling him: our Mu clan of the Kingdom of Changsha is not without its backbone. If the olive branch is refused and he still refuses to let us be, then even if it means dashing an egg against a stone, we will resist him to the very end.”
“Nanny Mu, this man, for all his countless flaws, does have one virtue: he acts with measure and is not an erratic person. I have extended the olive branch first and done him such a significant favor — now that what happened with Wang-xiong is done and past, why should he continue to make things difficult for us? We have rich fields of fish and rice, no shortage of grain, and we can still hold our own in battle. If he truly pushed us into Prince Qi’s arms, what good would that do him?”
Nanny Mu looked at Mu Fulan, and her eyes gradually reddened.
“You are a princess of royal blood, a golden branch of a jade leaf — you should be cherished and protected, cradled in the palm of someone’s hand. Yet now you must shoulder a burden this heavy, spending your days in anxiety and exhaustion without end, and pushing yourself this hard. While you were in Yunmeng, little Young Master was worried about you every single day.”
She dabbed at her eyes.
“Forgive Nanny Mu for speaking out of turn. I truly cannot understand — when that man first came to ask for your hand, were you not glad, Imperial Princess? What did he do afterward to so offend you that you came to despise him so completely — to the point that when he came to Yuecheng to take you away, you would rather inflict that harm upon yourself, bear the stain of that reputation, just to force him to divorce you?”
Mu Fulan startled. A slight frown crossed her brow: “Nanny Mu, stop talking nonsense. It’s late. You should go to sleep.”
Nanny Mu could hold back no longer: “Imperial Princess, do you think I don’t know? That night he came, when you were bathing — completely unlike your usual self, you sent everyone away and bathed alone. You were in there so long before you came out. You thought nothing was visible afterward, but I could see it plainly — you came out white as a sheet, all the color gone from your face. Later, the words between you and him — I was outside and could faintly make out some of it…”
Her tears fell, and her voice broke.
“How much must it have hurt? Just thinking about it breaks my heart — and yet you showed not the slightest care for yourself!”
The color drained from Mu Fulan’s face. She closed her eyes and was silent for a moment, then said quietly: “Nanny Mu, I’m tired. I want to sleep.”
Nanny Mu said softly: “The fault is mine — I was impertinent toward the Imperial Princess. I will never bring it up again, not another word. Imperial Princess, please rest well. I’ll go out now.”
She wiped her tears, carefully pulled the blanket up over the woman in the bed, snuffed out the lamp, and tiptoed out, gently pulling the door closed behind her.