The room gradually warmed up. The lily incense was made from over twenty fragrances including agarwood, clove, and cinnamon, finely ground with gold leaf, soaked in pure wine, mixed with various honeys, then dried at dawn beside lotus ponds and combined with lily pollen, carefully ground to completion. It was excellent incense for peaceful sleep. Qing Xia slowly inhaled the fragrance and felt drowsy weakness overtaking her. She slowly stepped out of the central hall, opened the door, and her white robes gradually merged into the deep night.
After an unknown time, the rain outside gradually stopped. The man who had been sleeping on the bed had somehow awakened and now stood beside the warm, fragrant tripod. He followed the slightly moisture-stained carpet to the door, opened it, and with a thud, something fell to the ground. Chu Li bent down to pick it up—it was a pale blue lady’s oil-paper umbrella. The umbrella surface was ice-cold and still dripping rainwater.
The rainy night was cool and clear, the moonlight melancholy. Such nights were the perfect time for peaceful sleep in the southeast’s August weather.
Taichang Pool was one of Hai City’s great wonders. Though Hai City bordered the sea and people saw the ocean daily without finding it remarkable, Taichang Pool was a freshwater lake. Its spring source opened on Canglang Mountain, where the Eastern Qi royal ancestral temple had once stood, earning it the name “Heavenly Waters”—commoners were forbidden to approach.
Now that the Eastern Qi royal house had vanished into dust, this formerly imperial forbidden ground had naturally become a fine place for common people’s recreation. The entire lake was covered with blooming lotus flowers—ten li of lotus ponds emanating a cloying sweet fragrance of blossoms at their peak, bordering on decay. As it was nearly September, this was presumably the last pool of lotus roots. Qing Xia wore a jade-green long shirt, her fingers translucent and white as she reached through the emerald lake water to pluck a white lotus root. Lifting her head slightly, she saw Chu Li in a lake-colored robe standing at the boat’s prow, his clothes fluttering, distinguished and otherworldly. Ten li of lotus flowers swayed among the misty waters, silk willow branches danced in the gentle breeze, yet none compared to his graceful sleeves and elegant robes.
“Young master, the lotus leaves ahead are too thick—our large boat can’t get through,” Le Song said, wearing blue robes and disguised as a family retainer, cutting quite a dashing figure himself.
Chu Li nodded upon hearing this, turning back with a light smile: “It’s rare to have such good spirits. Everyone take small boats and enjoy yourselves—let’s partake in this Water Spirit Festival’s joy.”
Everyone agreed. Song Yang called for the small boats behind to follow up, arranged everyone’s positions, and had them protect Chu Li’s boat from a moderate distance. These small boats could only hold two people sitting opposite each other, rowing together, with a small wooden table between them. Jin Yu had placed a food box under the table for snacks when hungry.
Qing Xia and Chu Li shared a boat. The boatman gave a strong push from behind, and the small boat glided into the emerald waters. The lake water was as brilliant as flowing silk, rippling beautifully and gently as the boat moved forward. Distant pavilions and halls were hidden among the misty pool, surrounded completely by lotus flowers, with occasional clusters of tall reeds enclosing the two of them. Qing Xia sat at the bow, needing to gently push aside lotus leaves with her hands for the boat to continue. Chu Li rowed clumsily but had at least stopped going in circles and could move forward slowly.
“What are you thinking about?” the man in lake-green robes suddenly spoke, his voice clear and bright without any trace of gloom or melancholy.
Qing Xia turned back, seeing his tall figure reflected in the rippling waves, graceful and dignified like pine needles in the wind. She smiled faintly: “I’m wondering what urgent business brought you back to Hai City at such risk—surely not just to accompany us for this so-called Water Spirit Festival.”
Chu Li smiled, his expression cheerful, eyes like stars, saying gently: “Why don’t you guess?”
Qing Xia smiled and turned her head away. The orchid boat glided over the waves, ripples glimmering as they slowly entered the depths of the lotus flowers. Cool breezes came from ahead, with occasional bright red carp leaping from the water, splashing ripples across the emerald lake. Qing Xia opened the exquisite food box, her voice carrying a trace of ethereal remoteness: “In such beautiful scenery, I really don’t want to discuss those mood-spoiling matters of war and killing. Unfortunately, your greatest hobby is ruining people’s good moods.”
Ice had been placed in the boat’s lower compartment, providing cool comfort far from the scorching sunlight’s blazing heat. Chu Li wore light robes and loose sash, put down the oars, and let the small boat drift on the lake surface. He casually reclined in the boat, accepting the iced honeydew melon Qing Xia handed him, took a bite and said: “I came back secretly this time. My public identity is as a salt merchant from the capital—all travel documents are in order and won’t reveal anything. You can rest assured.”
Qing Xia’s elegant brows furrowed slightly with worry: “What exactly did you come back to do? How are the western campaigns? With you gone like this, who’s in charge there? Are they reliable?”
Chu Li wiped his hands: “This is indeed a risky military move. Yan Hui’s defense is watertight, Mo Zhaonan won’t come out of his shell. To break through the deadlock, I must work from elsewhere. As long as he thinks I’m still at the Xichuan border, there’s advantage to be gained. Otherwise, this northern expedition will end in failure, and if Yan Hui establishes a foothold in Xichuan, it will become even more troublesome.”
Qing Xia’s brow furrowed, her expression immediately darkening as she sighed: “You’re not really planning to go through Huarong Trail to reach Xichuan’s rear, are you?”
Chu Li smiled: “Clever.”
“No!” Qing Xia immediately shook her head, saying decisively: “This is simply child’s play—I absolutely disagree.”
“Why?” Chu Li asked gravely: “Your three thousand troops could accomplish things in the northern territories without anyone knowing—why can’t I do the same?”
Qing Xia sighed, speaking earnestly: “Three thousand troops are few in number and all cavalry—highly mobile and flexible, carrying no supplies, unburdened by civilians or supply trains. Can you do the same? Throwing three thousand troops beyond the pass is like dropping a pebble in the ocean—it won’t even make a splash. Can you attack Xichuan’s Yanmen Pass like a game with just a few thousand men? You can’t. You’d need at least fifty thousand troops, coordinated with southern border forces, timing attacks perfectly to have even a slight chance of success when Xichuan is unprepared and caught in a pincer movement. But can fifty thousand troops go without supplies or provisions? No. Two civilians support one soldier, one pack horse supports two soldiers—by this calculation you’d need at least one hundred thousand civilians to carry provisions beyond the pass, or acquire thirty thousand pack horses. However, with the current hot weather, plague could easily break out if not careful. Pack horses too close together spread disease—half would die before reaching the north. Even if you successfully avoided enemy scouts, how much provisions would you bring? How much would spoil on the road? Have you calculated all this?”
Chu Li’s expression darkened as he slowly shook his head: “I don’t plan to bring supply trains or civilians. Each soldier will carry ten days of dry rations and march out immediately.”
“This is simply seeking death!” Qing Xia’s face flushed red as she suddenly became agitated, calling out gravely: “Huang Biao and his men could burn, kill, and plunder because early spring in the north was cold with stored grain available, and they faced mostly weak women, children, and elderly who were easy to handle. Moreover, being few in number, they needed little provisions. But what about you? You have fifty thousand troops marching to the grasslands during midsummer planting season, when the Xiongnu were recently frightened back home by us. Are you going to your death? Unless you kill me first and step over my corpse!”
Chu Li frowned: “Qing Xia, calm down. I’m not acting with reckless courage. I wouldn’t make this decision without absolute confidence.”
“How much confidence?” Qing Xia suddenly asked with narrowed brows: “Ninety percent? Seventy? Or just twenty or thirty?”
Chu Li slowly drew a breath: “To be honest, I only have forty percent confidence.”
“Forty percent?” Qing Xia’s voice immediately became sharp. She frowned tightly, staring intently at Chu Li’s eyes, saying word by word: “With only forty percent confidence, you want to risk your own life? What if the news leaks? What if you can’t take Yanmen Pass in ten days? What if the Xiongnu block Huarong Trail and you can’t return? Have you actually considered these things? You’re now the Great Emperor of Southern Chu, commanding half the realm’s military power—not a homeless wanderer fighting with his back to the wall and boats burned behind him. Why put yourself in such a desperate situation with no retreat? Why be so eager for quick success instead of waiting? In just three years, if we develop overseas trade, we can economically sanction Xichuan and force them into desperate straits without fighting. Why take such risks now? Can’t you even wait three years?”
Blue waves rolled, with several white egrets taking flight in the distance. Chu Li slowly shook his head: “Qing Xia, don’t try to persuade me. My mind is made up—this battle is unavoidable. In three days, the southern border forces will secretly infiltrate the southeast. I need you to give them every convenience and eliminate all records of garrison changes. I must slip behind Yan Hui’s back without anyone knowing and cut off his retreat. Otherwise, the northern expedition will drag on endlessly, and perhaps in my entire lifetime, I’ll be powerless to complete it.”
Qing Xia slowly pursed her lips. After a long while, she nodded: “Fine, I won’t stop you, but you must agree to one thing.”
“What thing?”
“Let me go instead.”
Chu Li raised an eyebrow: “No.”
Qing Xia looked at him calmly: “Chu Li, Southern Chu has so many people, you have countless generals—why must you personally handle every battle? Don’t you trust them, or do you trust yourself too much?”
“You don’t understand,” Chu Li said gravely: “Penetrating deep into Xiongnu territory isn’t something ordinary people can accept. With me there, soldiers will fight to the death with devotion. Even if there are setbacks and hardships, they’ll endure them. But if someone else leads the troops, first they might not have the ability, and second they couldn’t inspire the soldiers’ trust. This matter is of utmost importance—soldier morale is most critical. Therefore, I must go.”