Daxing City. Shiyuan Palace. The Eastern Study.

The moment Emperor Yang Jing saw Prince Wu stride through the door, he immediately rose to his feet to welcome him, his face already arranged into a most warm and cordial smile.

That particular light in his eyes hadn’t appeared for a very long time — seeing Prince Wu felt to him like seeing a father, bringing with it a deep sense of security.

“Royal Uncle returns in great triumph. The journey was long and arduous — you have worked hard, Royal Uncle.”

The emperor’s smile was no performance; it was genuine happiness. The crisis in Jingzhou had been resolved, the capital had been saved — whatever else might be said, that was cause for joy.

“It is all due to His Majesty’s sage wisdom.”

Prince Wu bowed to pay obeisance, but the emperor quickly stepped forward to help him up.

The two men entered the Eastern Study and chatted casually for a short while before the conversation turned to the state of the war. Prince Wu explained everything in detail, and as the emperor listened, a vague and creeping sense of dissatisfaction began to stir inside him.

Prince Wu seemed quite pleased with himself for having stopped Yang Xuanji from pushing north to seize Yuzhou — yet the emperor was not satisfied. Far from it.

In the emperor’s view, if Yang Xuanji wanted to seize Yuzhou, he should have let him go. What was the point of stopping him?

With Li Chi having to divide his forces between resisting the Black Martial invaders and clashing with Yang Xuanji, wouldn’t it be the Dachu court that reaped the benefits as the third party standing back?

And on top of that, Yang Xuanji would inevitably be branded with infamy — how could he ever aspire to the throne after that? Li Chi was resisting the Black Martial invasion while Yang Xuanji ran to Yuzhou to cut off his rear — how was that any different from a traitor selling out the country? One could even call him an inside agent colluding with the Black Martial forces, and no amount of washing could ever clean that stain from his name.

At that moment, the imperial army could have marched north under the banner of reinforcing Li Chi, and when Prince Ning Li Chi and Yang Xuanji had both been worn down by each other, delivered one decisive blow to reclaim the northern territories.

So Prince Wu’s sense of achievement was something the emperor simply could not understand or share.

Yet the emperor said nothing, because he knew that Prince Wu had likely had no choice — the army had already exhausted its provisions.

And so every trace of dissatisfaction in the emperor’s heart was forcefully suppressed.

In that one fleeting moment, he even thought: the rebel armies can go and levy grain from the common people — why couldn’t the imperial army do the same?

Of course, “levy” was the polite way of putting it. In plain terms, it meant seizure.

“Royal Uncle has worked hard. Go home and rest well first. This evening, We will host a banquet in Royal Uncle’s honor — We will send a carriage to bring you into the palace.”

Prince Wu had probably already sensed the subtle shift in the emperor’s manner, but he said nothing further and rose to take his leave.

It was only after walking out the door that Prince Wu remembered there was something he had forgotten to mention — over at Yumenquan Pass, Yang Zhenchuo was stationed there with his army. Those young men were restless, arrogant, and fancied themselves exceptional. If they took it into their heads that this was an opportunity to march on Jingzhou, they would lose, seven or eight times out of ten.

If they suffered a defeat, Yumenquan Pass would be wide open, Jingzhou would face renewed danger, and all the painstaking gains Prince Wu had fought to achieve would be utterly undone.

Yet remembering that subtle change in the emperor’s manner just now, Prince Wu found he did not want to go back inside.

In the past, Prince Wu would certainly have turned straight around and gone back to the Eastern Study, asking the emperor to issue an edict in his presence forbidding those young men of the Yang family at Yumenquan Pass from launching reckless military campaigns.

But now, Prince Wu simply felt tired. Exhausted. Going home to soak in a hot bath and then sleep soundly — that was all he wanted.

Just thinking about it, that seemed like the most comfortable thing in the world. So he got straight into his carriage and told the driver to take him home.

He had never felt this way before — this urgency to get home, soak in a bath, eat a warm meal, and then sleep deeply with nothing on his mind.

After Prince Wu left, the emperor sat in the Eastern Study in a daze for quite some time. He looked like he was daydreaming, but in truth his mind was ceaselessly probing at the hidden meaning behind Prince Wu’s every action.

If it was purely a matter of playing it safe, there wasn’t much to fault.

Yet the court had lately been rife with whispers — saying that Prince Wu and Prince Ning Li Chi had long been secretly in league.

Others said that when Prince Wu had secretly gone to Yuzhou the time before, it was supposedly to gather intelligence on the Ning Army, but in truth it was to meet with Prince Ning privately in Yuzhou.

Some had gone further still, listing several pieces of evidence for Prince Wu’s collusion with Prince Ning — the Yuzhou visit being one of them.

Another was the way Prince Wu and Tang Pidi had seemed to coordinate with each other during the campaign, as if operating in concert.

The emperor had paid little mind to these whispers before. But when Prince Wu described how he had stopped Yang Xuanji from attacking Yuzhou and the satisfaction and pride on his face — that was when the emperor’s heart began to grow uneasy.

The human heart is a peculiar thing. Building an unshakeable trust in someone requires an extraordinarily long process, and even then that trust is fragile — often no match for mere gossip and rumor. But suspicion, once the first seed is planted, takes root almost instantly and grows wild.

Fortunately, Emperor Yang Jing also knew that the Dachu dynasty still depended on Prince Wu, and so he could only swallow his unease and dare not voice it.

The chief eunuch, Zhen Xiaodao, knew the emperor far too well. One look at the emperor sitting there in a daze and he knew exactly what it was about.

And so Zhen Xiaodao was gripped by a surge of deep, bone-chilling fear.

If His Majesty had begun to distrust even Prince Wu, then who in all of Dachu could still earn His Majesty’s trust?

He wanted to speak up, but dared not. He could only pretend not to see.

After Prince Wu returned to the prince’s residence, the princess consort had already prepared everything. She personally attended to him as he bathed and changed his clothes, and personally carried the meal and set it before him.

Prince Wu smiled and said, “You needn’t trouble yourself — let the servants below handle it.”

The princess consort shook her head: “I have to do it with my own hands, and watch you eat. Only then do I feel at ease.”

Prince Wu ate and asked, “Where is Ting’er?”

The princess consort said, “I arranged for him to leave Daxing and go out to train and gain experience. For outsiders, we said he was going to procure grain for you. He should arrive at Luohua Island in a little while — few people know about our family’s estate there. I’ve had him stay there for now, and once the situation becomes clearer, we’ll make further arrangements.”

Prince Wu thought it over — that was indeed a prudent arrangement.

When he left Daxing the last time, he had hinted to his wife to send the child away first, ideally to Yuzhou to seek refuge with Cao Lie.

Given Cao Lie’s character, he would certainly offer protection — but his wife had clearly had more concerns.

Luohua Island lay between Jingzhou and Yuzhou, where a tributary of the Chi River flowed through to form a lake called Half-Moon Lake. Luohua Island sat in the middle of Half-Moon Lake. The estate had been completed for six or seven years now, originally built by the princess consort as a path of last resort.

Over all these years, she had always worried that Dachu would collapse. As the pillar of Dachu, Prince Wu would likely be shown no goodwill by whoever ultimately claimed the throne. And so she had prepared this escape: the moment things became uncontrollable, she would urge Prince Wu to retreat to Luohua Island and lie low.

The place was far from human traffic, and no one knew of it save the princess consort’s most trusted confidants. With the wealth she had accumulated over the years, they could live in seclusion on Luohua Island for decades without any worry.

“Write a few more letters to Lie’er when you have a chance. You are his aunt, and he is the closest family he has in this world — keeping in regular contact is perfectly natural.”

Prince Wu said this with an air of casual offhandedness.

The princess consort understood exactly what he meant. But the more she understood, the more frightened she became.

In earlier times, how could Prince Wu ever have said such a thing? Cao Lie was already Li Chi’s man — having frequent dealings with him was tantamount to treason. The fact that Prince Wu was making these arrangements felt very much like preparing for the worst possible outcome.

And so the princess consort could hold back no longer. She had intended to wait until things truly deteriorated before saying anything, but it came spilling out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“Why don’t we… go to Luohua Island ourselves?”

She put it forward tentatively.

Prince Wu was momentarily startled, seeming somewhat surprised that his wife would ask this.

The princess consort was the person in the world who understood him best, just as he was the one who understood her best.

He knew that she was afraid. This woman who was so strong — she could no longer suppress the fear within her.

So the gaze he turned on his wife carried an added measure of tenderness.

“You know… anyone else can go. But I cannot. When the late emperor placed the imperial authority in my hands, it was already decided that…”

He had not yet finished speaking when the princess consort grew visibly agitated: “You have already done more than enough. You don’t owe anyone anything, and you don’t owe Dachu anything. Everyone else owes *you*.”

Prince Wu shook his head: “What I did was done of my own free will. How can it be said that others owe me… Let us speak of this again another time.”

The princess consort exhaled heavily, then stood up: “I’ll go make you some tea.”

Prince Wu said, “You should go.”

The princess consort said, “Mm, I still have some of that rock oolong tea you love. I’ll go brew it for you.”

Prince Wu said, “What I mean is — you should go. You don’t need to wait for me.”

The princess consort’s footsteps stopped abruptly. She turned to look at her husband, and the fear in her eyes grew more intense than ever.

After a long moment, she shook her head and forced out a faint smile: “I’m quite fond of the lively bustle of Daxing.”

Prince Wu opened his mouth to say a few more words of persuasion, but his wife had already signaled for him not to say anything more.

In that moment, Prince Wu was filled with boundless guilt.

A moment later, Prince Wu said, “For our family, it’s enough that I alone give myself to this Dachu dynasty. You and the children should…”

The princess consort said, “And I am yours.”

The two of them sat in silence for a long, long time.

—

Yanzhou. Mengyuan Fort.

Yu Jiuling stared out at the vast, snow-blanketed plain and stood there in a daze for quite a while.

Little Zhang Zhenren noticed his expression, walked over to Yu Jiuling’s side, and followed his gaze to see what he was looking at.

He noticed some ice formations in the distance and thought to himself that there was nothing remarkable about those — in Yanzhou at this time of year, never mind icicles, you could find entire ice mountains and frozen lakes and it would barely be worth mentioning.

Yu Jiuling asked, “Is that what happens when someone is relieving himself and it freezes mid-stream?”

Little Zhang Zhenren tried to picture the scene of something freezing mid-flow and immediately felt a distinct chill in a very particular place.

“Stop talking nonsense. Urine is warm — how could it possibly freeze while you’re still going?”

No sooner had Little Zhang Zhenren finished speaking than Yu Jiuling looked down at his feet: “Is there something poking you down there?”

Little Zhang Zhenren shifted his foot. There was a strangely shaped lump beneath it, which he kicked aside.

Yu Jiuling said, “What you just stepped on was excrement, not a rock… Does that stuff stop being warm the moment it comes out?”

Little Zhang Zhenren said, “What the hell is wrong with you, that’s disgusting.”

Yu Jiuling said, “You stepped in it, and I’m still not the one grossed out.”

Little Zhang Zhenren sighed deeply to himself — the shape had been a bit odd, come to think of it… but it had been wrapped in a layer of snow. Who could have known?

He let out a long sigh: “Before I came to Yanzhou, I never once imagined that someday I would kick a lump of excrement, and that on top of that, my toe would end up throbbing.”

Yu Jiuling said, “I’m sorry.”

Little Zhang Zhenren said, “What exactly do you mean by that?”

Yu Jiuling said, “Before I came to Yanzhou, I never once imagined that you would kick my excrement and stub your own toe in the process.”

The two of them were in the middle of this pointless banter when, in the distance, several warhorses came galloping toward the main camp at full speed.

From the snow caked on those riders, it was clear they had been riding hard for a very long way.

“Military dispatch!”

The incoming rider shouted as he charged forward: “Urgent military dispatch!”

The two men exchanged a glance and moved to meet the messengers.

Perhaps because they had been riding too long, the lead rider had barely reined in his horse before he tumbled off the saddle into the snow.

—