The flimsy courtyard gate burst open with great force. Someone was thrown inside, landing with a thud.
Niu Wuniang steadied herself against the doorframe, clutching her chest as she stared blankly at the person sprawled on the ground.
“My lady…” Yu Yuan struggled to prop herself up and look at her mistress. She wiped blood from the corner of her mouth with her sleeve, tears streaming down her face. “This servant is useless… they’ve crippled me!”
Her martial arts had been crippled—her strength now less than that of an ordinary woman. She could no longer protect her mistress or carry out her tasks. Yu Yuan closed her eyes in anguish, fighting back the urge to wail.
The only person she trusted and could rely on had been crippled. She would never catch Yang Jingyuan now. The strength supporting Niu Wuniang disappeared vertebra by vertebra down her spine. Her legs gave way, and she sank to the ground.
Sheng Fengze slowly walked up to her, looking down at her from above. Wearing a face veil, Niu Wuniang was exceptionally beautiful. Even after being driven out by the Zhao family, she remained dignified. She wore a blue brocade robe with wide sleeves, its hem spreading across the dark brown wooden corridor. Her slight, trembling frame was like ripples across a deep blue lake, inspiring pity.
“I know you’re unwilling to accept this,” Sheng Fengze said flatly.
Her nails dug deep into her palms as Niu Wuniang felt a sharp pain. She clenched her teeth, forcefully controlling her impulse to lunge at Sheng Fengze. She lifted her head, her eyes burning with two flames visible beyond her veil: “You deceived the sovereign by saying Ji Yingying was dead and let Yang Jingyuan escape. Aren’t you afraid the sovereign will suspect you of treason?”
“Niu Wuniang, you are clever,” Sheng Fengze sighed softly. Even with Chi Kuang’s five thousand troops surrounding the mountain, they couldn’t detect Yang Jingyuan’s whereabouts. Yet this woman had her maid ambush Yang Jingyuan on the back mountain path. If he hadn’t been worried about Chi Kuang discovering them and prepared in advance, perhaps Yang Jingyuan would have truly been caught by this martial arts expert of a maid.
Sheng Fengze changed the subject: “Come, take these two back.”
He left without another glance at her.
“Lord Qingping…” Niu Wuniang only called out half a sentence before shutting her mouth tightly. If Du Yan could still protect her, how could Sheng Fengze have found this courtyard and taken her and Yu Yuan away? If even Du Yan had chosen to step back, what support did she have left?
Two soldiers pulled Niu Wuniang up from the ground.
“Let go, I can walk by myself.” Niu Wuniang forcefully shook off the soldiers’ hands and walked out of the courtyard with her head held high.
After leaving Taihe City and entering White Cliff Palace territory, the group stopped in front of a newly built stone courtyard at the edge of a hillside.
“You and your maid will live here from now on.”
Niu Wuniang looked up at Sheng Fengze on his horse in shock: “You’re not going to kill me?”
Sheng Fengze’s lips curved upward into a smile: “This prince will have food and necessities sent. Living well depends on you now.”
Letting her live under his nose, clinging to life in Nanzhao—she’d rather die! Niu Wuniang thought contemptuously. She had no hope of living well, so wouldn’t dying be easy?
“When Yang Jingyuan left, he said that one day he would lead troops to raze Nanzhao to the ground. You helped this prince before. This prince is not one to forget favors. Isn’t your current wish to see him one more time?”
With that, Sheng Fengze spurred his horse up the mountain. The troops galloped past Niu Wuniang and Yu Yuan. Chi Hu remained behind, raising his horsewhip to point at the foot of the mountain: “See that huge rock? Step half a foot out cut off half; stretch out one hand, chop it off.”
The horsewhip dropped, the horse reared up and galloped away, leaving a trail of dust. The two women were left standing there dumbfounded.
Standing on the hillside looking down, there was indeed a huge white rock at the foot of the mountain. Near the rock was the last household of the town.
A prison without walls.
Niu Wuniang suddenly covered her mouth and laughed.
“My lady.” Yu Yuan called out hoarsely, her eyes full of worry.
Niu Wuniang turned and pushed open the courtyard gate, walking in with a laugh: “I won’t die. I will live. Live to see Yang Jingyuan lead troops to raze Nanzhao to the ground.”
The mountain wind stirred her skirts as Yu Yuan stared dazedly at her back, forgetting the pain in her dantian. As long as she could guard her mistress like this, it was good enough.
Ten days in the mountains felt like a thousand years in the world.
The markings carved into the courtyard wall were now covered in moss. Niu Wuniang lost count as her vision blurred. She caught her breath, wanting to continue, when suddenly the light dimmed before her eyes. She vaguely heard Yu Yuan calling her name, mumbled a response, and fell asleep leaning against the wall.
“My lady, the Tang army is here!”
Niu Wuniang’s footsteps, floating in the dark wilderness, came to a halt. Had they come? She ran flying toward the voice. Finally, she opened her heavy eyelids.
“My lady, you’re finally awake!” Yu Yuan lay by the bed, crying out loud.
What met her eyes was white hair—the once beautiful Yu Yuan had become an old woman. Niu Wuniang couldn’t bear to look: “You’re deceiving me again.”
“It’s true. The Tang army has attacked!”
Niu Wuniang’s spirits lifted, and she sat up without effort: “Quickly, help me arrange my hair.”
Yu Yuan hesitated, seeing a flush appear on Niu Wuniang’s cheeks. Her heart tightened—was this her mistress’s final radiance before death? She knelt to help her put on her shoes.
Before she could reach out to support her, Niu Wuniang had already stood up, her withered hands gathering her scattered hair into a bun as she walked toward the door: “No need, I’m going now, going now.”
In the second year of Qianyuan, the Tang army crossed the Dadu River, advancing like an unstoppable force.
“My lady, Ming Guang armor! It’s the Tang army!”
The Tang army, having entered Nanzhao’s heartland, marched proudly past the trembling Nanzhao civilians who prostrated themselves on both sides.
Niu Wuniang straightened her back, feeling proud. She was a Tang citizen, this was the Tang army… She forgot the passing years and became once again the Fifth Miss of the Governor’s mansion.
The two old women wearing Tang-style wide-sleeved robes drew curious glances from passing soldiers.
“In the third year of Taihe, Nanzhao attacked Xichuan and captured tens of thousands of people…” some knowledgeable soldiers explained in low voices.
The soldiers’ gazes turned sympathetic.
Banners fluttered, and Niu Wuniang heard hoofbeats. Before she could process it, a mounted officer from the army appeared in her view.
It was the portrait etched in her heart, unchanged. He sat on horseback, his face lit by sunlight, incomparably handsome.
“Third Young Master Yang!”
Niu Wuniang suddenly shook off Yu Yuan’s support and ran toward the mounted officer. The caught-off-guard soldiers couldn’t stop her, and they watched helplessly as this white-haired old woman in Tang dress fell before the general’s horse.
The warhorse wasn’t easily startled, but the procession stopped because of this.
“You know me?” Yang Anchen ranked third in his family, waved off the soldiers who were about to drag away the two old women and bent down to ask gently. Along the way, he had already seen many Tang people crying uncontrollably. Forty-five years ago, their ancestors had been captured from Yizhou Prefecture and taken to Nanzhao. Since then, they could never return home.
“Third Young Master, Young Master Yang… how could I not know you? I waited year after year, finally waiting for you to come.” Niu Wuniang muttered.
He noticed her blue wide-sleeved brocade robe. This was the finest Shu brocade; the fabric needed for this garment would have taken at least two weavers two years to make. The old woman before him must have come from a wealthy family in Yizhou Prefecture. That year, both his second and third great-uncles were captured in Nanzhao… Yang Anchen touched his face, having heard he looked exactly like his grandfather. Must be one of the Yang family elders—he dared not be negligent, so he dismounted to help Niu Wuniang up, “Grandmother, which hall of the Yang family lane in Yizhou Prefecture are you from?”
Afraid of frightening her, Yang Anchen softened his voice.
“I wanted to burn down White Egret Hall.” Niu Wuniang remembered the Yang family’s First Madam.
Sunlight fell on Yang Anchen’s profile, his sword-like eyebrows as if ink-painted. Niu Wuniang stared entranced at this handsome face so close to her as if returning to that bright spring day.
“You rode past Xuanji Tower, and I thought, I must speak with you… I didn’t deliberately twist my ankle…”
Niu Wuniang’s voice grew softer and softer as she tightly held Yang Anchen’s arm, looking up at him. If her face hadn’t been ruined, when he pulled off her veil, he wouldn’t have nearly dropped her as if seeing a ghost.
“Was it because I was ugly? Is that why you refused the marriage? I hated you so much!”
He was curious—how had he never known that his grandfather, who would beat him with a big stick at the slightest provocation, had such a romantic past? Yang Anchen blinked, signaling his guard to stay behind while letting the troops move on. He supported Niu Wuniang to sit by the roadside. Yu Yuan, who had been blocked by soldiers, finally grasped Niu Wuniang’s hand, crying in anguish: “My lady, save your strength to rest.”
Niu Wuniang gripped his arm tightly. Yang Anchen crouched down: “My grandfather was the Third Young Master of White Egret Hall in Yang Family Lane of Yizhou. Are you my grandfather’s old acquaintance?”
Grandfather? Niu Wuniang’s mind cleared somewhat, and she murmured: “Yang Jingyuan, Third Young Master Yang.”
“Indeed, he is this humble officer’s direct grandfather.” Yang Anchen smiled.
Suddenly his hand was grabbed desperately by Niu Wuniang. Her nails were so long, and her calloused hands gripped him painfully. Yang Anchen secretly endured the pain, maintaining his smile: “Grandmother, there’s no rush. Speak slowly. I won’t leave.”
“Who is your grandmother? Who?!” Niu Wuniang’s voice became sharp as needles, her withered body heaving like a bellows, breathing heavily.
“Grandmother Ji.”
Niu Wuniang’s eyes widened: “Ji Yingying, Ji Yingying…”
He had finally married Ji Yingying, and even had grandchildren. In that instant, the light became strange and distorted, like brocade washed in the Jin River, colorful and dazzling.
Her days of bitter waiting had only unchanging blue skies and white clouds, a prison without walls. While he had a beloved wife and successful descendants.
How unfair.
“My lady, my lady!” Yu Yuan watched as the life faded from Niu Wuniang’s wide eyes and shook her frantically.
Perhaps awakened by Yu Yuan’s shaking, or perhaps by the sole hope in her heart, light returned to Niu Wuniang’s eyes, and she urgently asked Yang Anchen: “I am the person he hates most, do you know? Did Yang Jingyuan ever mention me? Did he tell you to kill me when you came to Nanzhao?”
Yang Anchen was speechless. This old woman was the woman his grandfather hated most. Without love, where would hate come from? He wanted to know too, to grab his grandfather’s pigtail and tattle to his grandmother.
He nodded randomly.
Even if it was hate, he hadn’t forgotten her. That was enough—her decades of waiting hadn’t been in vain. Niu Wuniang felt relieved, slowly let out a breath, and closed her eyes.
“My lady!” Yu Yuan wailed, holding Niu Wuniang and shaking her desperately.
Yang Anchen sighed inwardly and stood up: “My condolences.”
As soon as he spoke, the kneeling old woman surprisingly displayed nimble movements and drew the sword from his waist. Yang Anchen nervously stepped back half a pace. With his martial arts skills, for someone to be able to take his sword in an instant—this old woman was extraordinary.
Before his guard could approach, Yu Yuan held the sword to her neck and said hoarsely: “If my martial arts hadn’t been crippled, you would have died long ago.”
She turned to look at Niu Wuniang, who had died leaning against the wall, tears falling involuntarily: “Do you know Sang Chen, Fourteenth Young Master Sang? His wife’s surname is Niu, the Seventh Miss of the Niu family, former Deputy Governor of Xichuan Circuit.”
Sang family’s great-grandmother? Yang Anchen replied without hesitation: “I know her. Put down the sword first, let’s talk properly.”
“My lady is the Fifth Miss of the Niu family. I want to go serve her now. Please bury me and her in the same grave. My lady lived a lonely and bitter life; this servant cannot bear to let her lie alone underground.” Yu Yuan spoke, then called out fiercely, “If you don’t grant this, I will become a vengeful ghost…”
As she spoke, she slashed forcefully, and blood gushed from her neck. Yang Anchen watched in shock.
Yu Yuan fell beside Niu Wuniang, her hand covering her mistress’s, gently clasping it.
Looking at the two old women who had died by the roadside, it took Yang Anchen a long while to let out a breath: “So you were the elder sister Niu Wuniang that Sang great-grandmother wanted to find.”
He had his guard bury the two women. Yang Anchen stared at the slightly raised grave mound, recalled Niu Wuniang’s words, and couldn’t help feeling sorry for Niu Qiniang. Before setting out, Sang family’s great-grandmother had specially reminded him, but Niu Wuniang had died without asking about her sister once.
His guard Ji Xiaoyun came over, thinking he had figured out Yang Anchen’s thoughts, and grinned while suggesting: “Third Young Master, if you want to know about the old master’s affairs, ask Madam Sang when we return.”
Yang Anchen turned and smacked him on the forehead, laughing and scolding: “You think the old master’s stick isn’t solid enough? Dare to inquire about his private matters, just wait for your head to bloom!”
Along the way, he kept thinking that Sang’s great-grandmother must know everything. If he investigated clearly, his grandfather would probably be so shocked he’d drop the disciplinary stick from his hand… Yang Anchen laughed heartily and spurred his horse onward with his whip.