When Li Chi and Tang Pidi mentioned Cao Lie, they glanced at each other, both minds arriving at the same question at once: what would Cao Lie do when Princess Wu’s letter reached him?

Cao Lie was as clever as anyone alive — which was precisely why the Cao family’s holdings in Yuzhou had been preserved to the extent they had. But if he chose this moment to help Princess Wu in some way, he would need to think very carefully about his own future, and the future of the entire Cao family.

He would also need to consider how to help — and whether, given his standing, he could influence Li Chi into sparing Prince Wu.

In truth, it didn’t require much thought. Li Chi might accommodate Cao Lie’s feelings. Tang Pidi would not afford him that courtesy under any circumstances. Li Chi had long since declared that military affairs were Tang Pidi’s domain — on any battlefield, Li Chi himself was simply one general under the Grand Marshal’s command.

Because Li Chi understood this, and Old Tang understood it, Cao Lie certainly understood it too.

So if Cao Lie received Princess Wu’s plea, he would be left in a very difficult place.

At that same moment, the Chu army was on the march. Princess Wu’s carriage stood out clearly in the column. Surrounding it was a company of soldiers in red armor.

Those who guarded Princess Wu were not only the martial artists she had personally recruited — Prince Wu had also handpicked the finest fighters from his own forces to stand beside her. These red-armored soldiers were called the Bound-Spirit Guard.

When the Tianming Army mutinied in Daxing City, they had also swept through Prince Wu’s residence, hoping to kidnap Princess Wu and use her to coerce the Chu Army — and later, Prince Wu himself. Yet somehow they had never broken through the estate’s gates. A group of self-assured fighters had slipped over the rear wall, and within moments the Bound-Spirit Guard had finished them.

If Prince Wu’s Left Vanguard Guard was the elite of the Chu Army, his personal guard battalion was the elite of that elite. The Bound-Spirit Guard was drawn from the finest of them — their strength could be left to the imagination.

General Dou Yong led the vanguard force, several tens of thousands strong, clearing the road ahead for the main column.

From the moment they left Daxing City, the Chu army had moved at maximum pace. Princess Wu was already burning with urgency.

Seated in the carriage, she had been studying the map spread before her for a long time.

She had never commanded troops. She had never involved herself in military matters during Prince Wu’s campaigns. Yet she was no ordinary woman.

Every campaign Prince Wu had ever fought, she knew — the details, the particulars. She likely knew more, and remembered it more clearly, than any general who had served under him. She had made herself learn it, deliberately, because she understood a truth about marriages:

When husband and wife have nothing to talk about, the bond will thin and cool. And leading his army was what Prince Wu took the most pride in. If she could only offer him a blank stare when he described a battle, or end the conversation with I don’t understand these things — he would not blame her for it, but there would be a flicker of disappointment in his heart.

So she had studied every campaign he had fought. Not just the outcome, but the mechanics: why the victory was won, and where the enemy went wrong. She would then consider how the enemy should have responded — whether there had been a path back from the brink.

From that study grew the kind of conversation Prince Wu loved best.

It wasn’t limited to military affairs. Astronomy, geography, history — to keep from growing distant from the man she had married, she had learned more varied and intricate things than most of the court’s officials could claim.

Most couples, truthfully, never make this effort. A husband who can name his wife’s favorite style of clothing, her preferred jewelry, the dishes and small sweet things she loves — that is not very hard. Being able to sit with her for half a day talking about ordinary domestic things, without her feeling like you’re going through the motions — that takes real skill.

And for a wife, when her husband mentions some difficulty or trouble at work and she can only meet it with disinterest, or can barely be bothered to respond — after a while, both of them grow quiet.

Princess Wu had never wanted her husband to feel that she was just another ordinary woman. She knew how to make herself brilliant — how to ensure that when Prince Wu’s eyes rested on her, they reflected back the full brightness of who she was.

Now she held a charcoal pencil and was marking the map — the positions where she believed the Ning army would be encamped, the likely placement of their blocking formations against a relief force.

If someone with fresh knowledge of the actual Ning encampments outside Mangdang Mountain had been there to compare, they would have been astonished at her accuracy.

Seated across from her were two women: one appeared to be in her mid-twenties, bright-eyed and lively; the other was perhaps in her early thirties, composed, still, so quiet even her breathing was almost imperceptible.

Both were Princess Wu’s personal attendants — and the women she had trained herself.

In the past, she had stationed one in the south of the river, one in the north, and the two of them had managed all her business interests between them. About a year ago, Princess Wu had quietly closed down every one of those ventures and recalled them both to her side.

The older of the two was named Zhao Luan. The younger was Cai Nan.

Princess Wu finished her markings, touched the charcoal to a point on the map and said: “The Ning army will certainly deploy heavily on the north bank of the Pan Xing River.”

She exhaled slowly. “With Li Chi’s reach, this area will have been seeded with spies and scouts long before now. Our army would have been reported the moment we left the city. The Ning forces will have their defensive lines in place along the north bank before we arrive — and it won’t be a static defense. He will be looking to destroy us outright.”

Cai Nan said: “My Lady, this year’s weather has been strange. It’s nearly the eighth month and barely a drop of rain has fallen across Jingzhou. If drought is coming, the Pan Xing River’s water level will be low — cavalry might be able to ford it directly.”

Princess Wu shook her head. “Light cavalry charging into a prepared position — what are you thinking?”

Zhao Luan touched a point on the map. “My Lady, you’ve marked this place particularly. Is it important?”

Princess Wu said: “The upper reaches of the Pan Xing River — the current runs stronger there, but the channel is narrower. We’ll have to see when we arrive. If we can avoid the Ning blocking force, we’ll need to scout whether the upper crossing is passable.”

As they spoke, a voice from outside said softly: “My Lady, General Dou has sent someone to request an audience.”

Princess Wu gave a nod, and Cai Nan opened the carriage window. “Speak from outside.”

An officer’s voice came from beyond the curtain: “By your leave, Princess—”

The words were barely out before Zhao Luan frowned: “Princess Wu commands this army. You will address her as Grand General.”

The officer quickly corrected himself: “By your leave, Grand General — General Dou sends me to report that we have encountered some people on the road ahead. They claim to be the Grand General’s nephew, and have been waiting at the roadside…”

Princess Wu’s head came up sharply. “My nephew? Is it Lie’er?”

“He gives his name as Cao Lie.”

“Bring him to me.”

Before long a voice spoke outside the carriage. “Your nephew pays his respects to Honored Aunt.”

“Is it really you?”

The moment Princess Wu glimpsed Cao Lie through the carriage window, her expression went cold.

“Get in.”

“Yes.”

Zhao Luan and Cai Nan climbed out of the carriage. Cao Lie boarded, knelt in the swaying carriage, and bowed his head to the floor. “Nephew pays respects—”

Princess Wu looked at him with cold eyes, then raised her hand and struck him hard across the face.

The blow was not light. Half his face reddened and swelled within moments.

Cao Lie did not flinch or dodge. He knelt straight, and his eyes held nothing but remorse.

Princess Wu’s voice came out glacial: “You knew your uncle would be trapped on Mangdang Mountain. You knew the court had no one to send. You guessed I would come myself — so you rushed out here to intercept me on the road.”

Cao Lie lowered his head. “Nephew did not come to stop you, Honored Aunt.”

Princess Wu’s voice grew colder still. “No, you didn’t come to stop me. You came to unburden yourself. You are now a minister of Ning, and you knew I would send word to you, so rather than wait to receive my letter, you came here yourself — rather than going to see the Ning King.”

Cao Lie was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “Honored Aunt has read my mind exactly. Nephew truly has no way to go and see the Ning King.”

Crack.

Another slap. This one harder. Cao Lie’s whole body rocked sideways from the force.

Princess Wu’s voice cut like frost: “For the sake of your own future, you can disregard even the bond between us?”

Cao Lie smiled bitterly. “Honored Aunt, I came because of that bond. I cannot go to see the Ning King — it would accomplish nothing. Military affairs are not decided by the Ning King. It is Grand Marshal Tang Pidi who holds that authority.”

Princess Wu’s brow contracted.

Cao Lie continued: “But Prince Wu is my uncle. Since seeking the Ning King is useless, I had no choice but to come here and see you. Whatever happens in this battle, I will ride at the front of the charge.”

Princess Wu’s face went white as paper. “Very clever. You use retreat as advance. You know perfectly well I cannot kill you, cannot bear to let you throw yourself into battle, so you come and perform this show of sacrifice before me…”

“Honored Aunt.”

Cao Lie knelt there and said: “What could I have done? If I stayed in Yuzhou and ignored your letter, that is lacking in filial devotion. If I ran to plead with the Ning King, that is lacking in loyalty. Since I am faithless and unfilial in either case, I would rather come with you and go directly to rescue my uncle. At least in the Ning King’s eyes, that makes me a man worth something.”

Princess Wu’s lips parted, but the crueler words she might have said didn’t come.

After a moment, she let out a long, heavy breath.

“You are too clever.”

She looked him in the eyes. “When you were very small, I told your father — I said, Lie’er’s intelligence at this age already exceeds most grown men…”

She paused, and sighed again.

“But I never imagined there would come a day when you would turn that cleverness against me.”

Cao Lie made no further argument. He said nothing. He only knelt there in silence.

After a long while Princess Wu said: “The Cao family has only you left. You know I cannot truly do anything to you… Cao Lie. Your father was ruthless in everything he did — and even so, you surpass him. That is well enough…”

Princess Wu raised a hand and pointed toward the curtained door. “Go. I know where your heart stands. Your choice is the right one. Whatever standing the Cao family is to have in the years ahead rests entirely with you. And from the day I married Prince Wu, I ceased to be a daughter of the Cao family.”

Cao Lie pressed his forehead to the floor. “Nephew did not lie. Nephew did not come to perform. I have already settled my affairs, and I have sent a letter to the Ning King. If Uncle dies — I will follow him. Between loyalty and filial devotion… I must keep at least one.”

He rose. “Nephew will join the vanguard.”

“You stop right there!”

Princess Wu’s voice was sharp.

Cao Lie did not stop. He did not look back. He stepped down from the carriage and walked toward the front of the column.

“Lie’er!”

She called once more, her voice gone slightly hoarse.

Cao Lie still did not look back. He took his horse, took his sword, and rode forward.