By the time Xiao Nanhui rode out to catch up with Su Pingchuan, the column had already pushed deep into the belly of Bijiang, frozen under winter’s grip.

The sky had brightened, yet it shed no light on the end of the road ahead. The terrain was broken apart by shrubs of varying heights and the tangled interplay of low hills and streams, crisscrossed by natural sandy trails — a landscape so fragmented it barely warranted the word “road.”

Jixiang had not been let out to run for a long time, and moved with the wind at its feet, blazing fast. Hao Bai had been fattening up Hua Qiu — its four hooves turned with great effort, and it fell a fraction behind. The two horses, one ahead of the other, tore past the cavalry at full gallop, drawing turned heads from all sides.

Xiao Nanhui did not go directly to find Su Pingchuan. She first struck up a conversation with his deputy general.

The deputy looked young but carried himself with great hauteur. He had initially taken Xiao Nanhui for some junior officer delivering a dispatch. Upon learning that she was none other than the Right General of legend who had “traded three hundred rounds” with his Left General, the emotions playing across his face were intricate beyond what his armor could conceal. He confirmed her identity badge several times over before slowly opening his mouth: “What brings the Right General here? Is there a military order?”

Xiao Nanhui sidestepped the question: “I spent several months in this area before. I may be able to offer some assistance. Besides, the Left General and I are colleagues — offering my assistance is only natural.”

The image of “three hundred rounds” rolled once more through the deputy’s mind, and his brow furrowed tighter. After a long pause he hesitantly explained the situation.

Guangyao Camp’s deployment this time had indeed come about suddenly. The trigger was a report claiming that an oversized encampment had been discovered, and that a senior strategist under the Bai Clan had been seen entering and leaving it — which had raised suspicion of a hidden stronghold.

Encampments throughout Bijiang followed the building traditions of nomadic peoples. Apart from the necessary seasonal migrations, they could also be dismantled and relocated within a single day when threatened by outside forces.

She understood this well, and so had little difficulty understanding why Tiancheng had made the hasty decision to deploy.

She was still thinking on this when Su Pingchuan’s voice suddenly cut through.

“Why are you here?”

The deputy saw his opening and retreated at speed. Xiao Nanhui simply got to the point, answering with a question of her own: “You know better than anyone that one must never underestimate one’s enemy. How did you come out here with only this many people?”

Su Pingchuan said nothing, turned to look ahead, and appeared to have no intention of answering.

Bolao looked around at the expressions of the soldiers behind them, and had already grasped roughly seven or eight parts of the situation.

“Since they are unwilling to fight alongside you, why force it?”

Su Pingchuan’s dignity was punctured, and he could not quite hold his expression: “Orders are orders — what is there to be willing or unwilling about?”

Xiao Nanhui had finally begun to see the situation clearly.

Su Pingchuan was being ostracized.

He was the only son of Duke Xuanyuan, and his position within Guangyao Camp seemed prestigious on the surface — but carried within it a kind of difficulty that was hard to put into words.

Military life valued achievement in battle and had nothing but contempt for those who obtained posts through family connections. Even in Guangyao Camp, where noble bloodlines gathered — Su Che the Duke Xuanyuan, Wei General Su Yuanxiu, and other imperial descendants — all had racked up extensive battle records and were known as fierce fighters. Su Pingchuan, standing among such a group while carrying the name of the Duke Xuanyuan’s son, was under enormous pressure.

Worse still, he had handed in a dismal report card before he’d had the chance to prove himself.

In the Battle of Famang Ridge, nearly three thousand of Guangyao Camp’s elite soldiers were annihilated in a failed surprise attack, and he, as the commanding officer, had been captured, held in the enemy camp for months before being returned. What had happened during that time no one knew, and all manner of suspicion and speculation naturally arose. Even after it was confirmed that a mole had been responsible, that near-humiliating experience was still branded deeply on his sword and armor, breeding cracks wide enough to erode his dignity entirely.

She thought of how he had looked when he was imprisoned in that cramped, low dungeon in Bijiang — at the mercy of others, living one day at a time, all his pride ground into the earth beneath their feet. She had thought that rescuing him had settled everything — but now she saw that his ordeal was far from over.

She nudged Jixiang lightly and guided it closer to Su Pingchuan’s side, lowering her voice.

“Most of those in the military are rough, plainspoken men — direct in how they read people and judge events. They don’t know the full story, but I do. You were clean all along, and you did nothing wrong. Don’t take it to heart.”

Su Pingchuan still said nothing. She could only see half his face from the side, and could not easily read his mood. She could only continue: “You are young and come from a distinguished family — naturally there will be more talk about you—”

“I’ve long been used to it.”

The reply came abruptly, but in a tone that sounded reasonably calm.

Xiao Nanhui fell quiet and thought for a moment, then decided he was probably not as fragile as all that.

After all, a child who had grown up with a golden spoon had far more experience navigating the ways of the world than a wild weed like herself. But she was glad to enjoy her freedom, and had never known such troubles.

“Well then. As the saying goes, every family has its own difficult scripture to read—”

Su Pingchuan glanced at her: “And what difficult scripture does the Right General’s family read?”

Xiao Nanhui blinked, and suddenly had the feeling of sticking her nose in and being turned around and made a fool of. She said with annoyance: “I was speaking in a general sense — you do know what a general statement is, don’t you?”

“About the Zhu Tingmao matter — thank you.”

He switched topics so abruptly she had no room left to stay annoyed, and so fell into an obligatory exchange of pleasantries.

“I only passed along the information. The decision was ultimately His Majesty’s.”

At the mention of the Emperor, Su Pingchuan almost involuntarily glanced at her again — a glance that carried, for some reason, a strange, tangled look that hovered between wanting to laugh and not quite managing it.

“Didn’t you say you were keeping His Majesty company? What are you doing coming over here?”

Obviously to make sure the idiot she’d painstakingly pulled from the jaws of the enemy didn’t trip over his own feet and get himself captured again — because then all that effort would have been for nothing.

But knowing he was thin-skinned, she laughed it off: “What would the Emperor need me for, now that Lieutenant Ding is with him?”

Su Pingchuan appeared quite satisfied by this and gave a nod: “Quite right. You should know that the Emperor’s nature is cool and reserved — apart from the few people he has always kept close, he will never open his heart to outsiders. If he shows you some slight favor, it may only be out of consideration for the Qinghuai Marquis’s face. You must not lose your sense of propriety and presume to close in on him — he will take a definite dislike to you.”

What?

Now that really was a twisted thing to say — as if she had been the one shamelessly throwing herself at the Emperor.

Feh, feh, feh. What was she even thinking.

“What do you mean by that?”

Xiao Nanhui frowned and looked at the man beside her. She could not think of what she had ever done to offend him — so why were his words so unpleasant to hear?

Su Pingchuan gave a dry cough. His voice inexplicably dropped, and his expression took on a peculiar restlessness.

“I heard that you and His Majesty spent three days and three nights alone in the wilderness — waited on him personally through every meal and every rest, shared many heart-to-heart conversations, and often listened to the wind and admired the moon together in great contentment—”

He delivered these words while keeping his gaze fixed firmly ahead, as if the mere sight of her reaction would cause him to die of embarrassment on the spot.

Xiao Nanhui was initially puzzled, and then began to find it rather funny.

She reckoned that Su Pingchuan was no fool — and besides, they had escaped from the desert together. He had to know what their situation had been like. How could he believe talk like that?

“When the Emperor and I were in the desert, we couldn’t even get a sip of water. What leisure did we have to listen to the wind and admire the moon? Whoever is spreading these baseless stories — my sincere apologies to every grain of sand and pebble I ate in that place—”

Su Pingchuan suddenly reined his horse to a stop, turned his head, and fixed her with an unusually grave stare: “Truly nothing?”

Xiao Nanhui felt unsettled by his stare. The words the Emperor had spoken in the passageway echoed suddenly in her ears, and she felt instantly guilty and short of breath. She shook her head at once: “Truly nothing.”

Su Pingchuan continued to stare at her for a good long while — then pressed his heels to his horse and surged forward. His retreating figure seemed noticeably lighter than it had been a moment ago.

She pressed her hand to her chest and let out a slow breath, making every effort to ignore the probing gaze Bolao was directing at her from not far away.

~~*

Half a shichen later, after rendezvous with the forward scouts, Xiao Nanhui and the others finally arrived near their destination.

Morning fog spread through the forest like a river, drifting and flowing. This fog was different from the dense fog she had encountered on the eastern bank of the Tianmu River — it clung to the roots of the trees here, reaching only up to about waist height on a person. If anyone moved through it now, they would stir up the settled mist from below and make themselves plainly visible.

The light cavalry under Xiao Nanhui and Su Pingchuan were not wearing heavy armor. The entire unit dismounted and crouched in the low brush, waiting for the fog to lift.

Cold air condensed in droplets on her brows, then fell with each blink of her eyes.

She paid no mind to it, and spoke to Su Pingchuan in a low voice: “This terrain is low and hollow. From my past experience here, they will certainly have watchtowers set in concealed positions. In a moment, Bolao and I will scout ahead. You lead the rest and hold position. I will draw out the watchtower locations one by one, and you follow and take them out in sequence — that way we will not startle the enemy and can eliminate them in one sweep.”

She finished speaking, and for a long time heard no reply. She turned to look, and found Su Pingchuan staring at her unwaveringly.

Their gazes met briefly. Su Pingchuan had already looked away. Silver armor covered the upper half of his face, leaving only the strong line of his jaw visible. The march of the past few days had grown a faint shadow of stubble on his chin, making him look considerably more composed than before.

Xiao Nanhui told herself that he was still troubled by having been captured previously, and feared his emotions might affect his combat strength. She sincerely patted him on the shoulder and spoke to him earnestly.

“When we crossed blows in those days, I already knew that Pingchuan has immense strength and ferocious technique. And then I learned that though you had never set foot in the southwest, you were willing to venture alone into this dangerous territory — you are the bravest person I have ever encountered in my life. The General is still young; given time, you will surely stand first among Tiancheng’s cavalry, honored as a supreme commander. Today you and I have the opportunity to fight side by side — let us go out there, kill the enemy, and have our fill of glory. Whatever weighs on your mind — we can drink it out together when the battle is done.”

Having said her piece, she did not wait to observe his expression. She hoisted Ping Xian in one hand, took Jixiang’s reins in the other, mounted in a single leap, and rode toward the front.

The mysterious encampment lay concealed in the fog and undergrowth. Xiao Nanhui approached from the direction facing the morning light, carefully using the shadows of the trees to conceal her form. Bolao followed close behind, and at her hand signal, scaled the watchtower. Two short blades struck silently, not even startling the birds out foraging for their morning meal.

Three watchtowers taken in succession — and the enemy finally noticed something was wrong. A horn sounded in the encampment. Xiao Nanhui called Jixiang forward and leapt into the saddle. Jixiang’s feet moved as if in a dance, nimble and quick through the complex terrain. She settled her breath into her core, gripped Ping Xian in both hands, and met the first wave of fighters bursting from the enemy camp.

Sure enough, just as she had expected, the number of enemy combatants in what appeared to be an unassuming camp was far greater than it looked. If it was not a deliberate tactical arrangement, then there had to be something else going on.

The sounds of fighting behind her grew louder. Su Pingchuan had led his force in. Over a hundred elite cavalry fanned out with disciplined speed, using their swift movement to seize advantageous positions all around, pinning the enemy fighters who were trying to break through firmly in place.

The encirclement tightened steadily. The momentum was excellent; the moment to finish them off was at hand. Then, suddenly, several flashes of silver light cut through the air and in an instant buried themselves under the armor of several Tiancheng soldiers.

Those men’s throats erupted in sprays of blood before they even had time to understand what had happened, and they toppled headlong from their horses.

An archer — one who could thread a needle at a hundred paces and loose three arrows at once.

Xiao Nanhui called out in a low, sharp voice, rapidly breaking up the Tiancheng cavalry where they had clustered together, trying to reduce the number of targets.

Three more arrows came whistling in succession, and three more were killed in an instant.

This time she had already locked onto the archer’s position, and she snapped her head around toward a watchtower not far away — that was where those cold arrows were coming from.

Bolao was in the thick of the fighting not far off, making good sport of it. She deflected two more reckless fighters who had thrown themselves at her, gave a sharp command — and Jixiang turned in a single fluid movement, leaping clear of the chaotic melee and racing toward the watchtower.

The person on the tower had sensed her intention as well. One arrow after another cut through the air toward her. She parried experimentally with her spear, and found that while the archer’s aim was precise, the force behind the shots was not exceptionally powerful. That was why the arrows that had struck the soldiers had all entered through the gaps in the armor rather than piercing straight through.

She urged Jixiang faster, her long spear spinning a tight, impenetrable wall before her, and no arrow could come close.

As she drew nearer and nearer to the watchtower, Xiao Nanhui charged without slowing, driving at full gallop. She brought her spear horizontal at waist height, picked her moment, twisted at the waist, and swept it out in a full arc. The razor-sharp spearhead whistled toward the bundles of green bamboo at the tower’s base. A bowl-thick length of bamboo snapped cleanly apart at the strike. One corner of the watchtower collapsed in an instant, and the whole structure lost its balance and tilted to one side.

The cover at the top of the tower was scattered and blown open. A slight, slender figure was revealed. He grabbed for a length of bamboo that had not quite broken off — but it was studded with sharp barbs that tore clean through his palm, and he fell.

In the instant that person tumbled down, Xiao Nanhui heard a low cry — and felt herself go still.

That was a woman’s voice.

Women who trained in martial arts were rare in Bijiang, and an archer with technique as fine as what she had just faced was rarer still.

A strange feeling spread through her chest. Xiao Nanhui guided Jixiang toward the spot where the figure had fallen.

The person was dressed in the twisted-cord jacket worn by ordinary Bijiang commoners, and appeared slender and small. The impact of the fall seemed to have knocked them unconscious. Tangled hair covered half their face; the exposed half was dirty and smeared with grime.

Was she imagining things?

She held her breath, and raised Ping Xian in her hand.

Tiancheng had an order not to kill women or children in the field — but in her view, the situation here was entirely different. The person before her was not merely a woman; she was a warrior, just as Xiao Nanhui was. And the ground beneath her feet was the battlefield. Her stance could not waver, and she could not leave a danger behind for the Tiancheng soldiers who followed her.

Her arm tensed slightly. The straight spear shaft was coiled and ready, poised to end this brief standoff.

The next second — her sharp senses caught the sound of someone rushing toward her from the right rear.

Everything happened too fast. In the corner of her eye Xiao Nanhui caught only a flash of a rider in red armor bearing down on her.

The red clothing over that armor was the uniform of Tiancheng’s Suibei Army — the rider was not the enemy. Xiao Nanhui silently exhaled and did not move to counterattack.

Then she felt a jarring shock in her tiger’s grip, and her arm was slammed back hard against her own waist by the impact.

Accompanied by the shriek of metal scraping metal, silver light fell — and in an instant Ping Xian had been severed in two. She stared in disbelief, her eyes wide.

In all her living years, this was the first time Xiao Nanhui had ever had her weapon blocked mid-battle by an ally — intercepted not to deflect her strike, but to shatter it outright.

Slowly, the world around her seemed to slow. She watched as the rider on horseback gradually turned back to face her, and a face she knew as well as her own came into view.

Xiao Zhun’s eyes, stained with fresh blood, held a tangle of terror and joy that he could not conceal — and those eyes were locked, unblinking, on the Bijiang woman lying on the ground.

From the day he had set out alone on that expedition many months ago, there had not been a single day she had not imagined the moment of their reunion.

But she had never imagined the circumstances of this reunion would be what she now saw before her.

Xiao Nanhui stood rooted to the spot. The fractured shaft of the spear slipped from her hand.

At this moment she still did not understand what had happened — only felt that the Xiao Zhun before her now, with that expression on his face, was a Xiao Zhun she had never seen before.