Right up until full dark, Prince Yu still hadn’t returned from Prince Wu’s Left Vanguard Guard camp. Xiahou Zuo appeared outwardly indifferent and unconcerned about his father, yet he had already slipped out to ask around two or three times. Who could truly be indifferent to their own father?
Perhaps some people exist who could—but not many.
Though he kept telling himself nothing serious could be happening over at the Left Vanguard Guard camp, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from spiraling. And so he remained on edge all the way until the dead of night, when at last he heard the sound of horses entering the camp. Only then did Xiahou Zuo let out a long breath.
Early the next morning Prince Yu came by, saying he had brought back some wild game from Prince Wu’s camp. It had been put on to stew through the night over a low flame, slow-cooked for the entire second half of the night—it would be ready to eat first thing in the morning.
As Xiahou Zuo’s good friend, Li Diudiu was invited to share breakfast, though he and his master Changmei both felt rather ill at ease. Last time, eating hotpot in the prison cell, Li Diudiu hadn’t dared eat very much.
“You two eat first. Zuo—step outside with me for a moment. I have a few words for you.”
After Prince Yu said this he went out of the tent. Xiahou Zuo signaled Li Diudiu not to mind and to keep eating, then followed Prince Yu out.
“Head back to Jizhou City for now.”
Prince Yu looked at Xiahou Zuo, his tone gentle. “Prince Wu’s army will be staying here for several more days. You’ve probably heard some of it by now—the Goqin tribe’s Ekin envoy has arrived from the steppe. Beyond that, there are also people from the Yanshan Camp Green Brow Army.”
He paused, then continued: “I had thought things wouldn’t get too complicated, but now there’s been a development. Prince Wu may make a move. Once the Left Vanguard Guard mobilizes, they won’t withdraw without accomplishing something—once the fighting starts, blades don’t have eyes. Take your friend and head back.”
Xiahou Zuo gave an indifferent *oh*, turned, and started back. Prince Yu could only sigh as he watched him.
He owed so much to Xiahou Zuo and his mother. If not for that wretched business about matching families of equal standing, that wretched mutual exploitation of alliances, he would have long since set aside his current Princess Consort and taken Xiahou Zuo’s mother back to the Prince’s estate with a proper wedding.
But in this world, common people have their helplessness, and a prince has his own helplessness.
Especially a prince with ambitions.
Prince Yu’s Princess Consort came from a formidably connected family. Her elder brother Yuwen Chi was a general of the Left Guard Army; her younger brother Yuwen Cong was the General-in-Chief of the Right Vanguard Guard; her father Yuwen Chonghe held the rank of National Duke and the title of Minister of War, with military power firmly in hand.
Most importantly, Yuwen Chonghe and Liu Chongxin were closely allied—everyone at court knew these two men were central pillars of the Crown Prince’s faction.
Keeping the Princess Consort’s side in good standing meant the possibility of eventually winning Yuwen Chonghe over—which would make the great undertaking more than half accomplished. And even if he couldn’t be won over entirely, he could at least have the Princess Consort pass intelligence about movements at court.
Whatever the case, the Princess Consort was still Yuwen Chonghe’s daughter. For the sake of his daughter’s happiness, that old father in the capital had never stopped making efforts—at the first sign of any wind or movement, he would immediately dispatch someone to Jizhou with word.
Last time, when His Majesty had intended to give Prince Yu command of the Left Vanguard Guard, it was Yuwen Chonghe who got wind of it first, then sent a man racing to Jizhou with the news. Prince Yu had set off in high spirits—only to be intercepted and turned back midway. Prince Wu, who had supposedly been home convalescing, took up command again; the Left Vanguard Guard had been under Prince Wu’s command for years, and Prince Yu had no choice but to return, deflated.
Xiahou Zuo had given an indifferent *oh* and started walking away—but after a few steps he turned back, and asked in an offhand tone: “When are you heading back to Jizhou?”
Prince Yu answered without delay: “I still have some things to attend to here. But I’ll definitely be back in Jizhou before the New Year. I still want to visit you and your mother.”
Xiahou Zuo gave another *oh*, and strolled back toward the tent, speaking as he walked, almost to himself: “Then I won’t tell Mother in advance—give her a surprise.”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
Prince Yu followed after Xiahou Zuo, nodding quickly. His heart eased a little. The part about the third matter was something he had thought of just now, not something he had planned from the beginning.
But children always tend to believe a father’s words a little more readily, no matter how strained the relationship—it’s almost instinctive.
Had Xiahou Zuo thought carefully, he would have realized there was something a little hollow about those words. He was nearly eighteen years old now, and in all those eighteen years he had never seen his father give his mother a fine horse. Could it have been that he lacked the ability?
After breakfast, Xiahou Zuo relayed what his father had said to Li Diudiu—treating the news about the Yanshan Camp Green Brow Army with complete indifference, since it had nothing to do with him, and telling it to Li Diudiu the way one might tell a story.
Li Diudiu, however, found himself troubled… From the first time he had encountered Yu Chaozong on the mountain, he had felt that this man genuinely deserved admiration.
Xiahou Zuo hadn’t thought deeper about it, but Li Diudiu had—almost from the moment he heard it—worked out the logic: if Prince Yu wasn’t leaving, it certainly had something to do with wanting Yu Chaozong dead.
Then, thinking back to that ambush in the mountains against Yu Chaozong, the picture in Li Diudiu’s mind suddenly became clear.
It had nothing to do with Prince Wu at all. It had been Prince Yu orchestrating everything from behind the scenes. At first Li Diudiu had believed it was Prince Wu’s scheme to divide and undermine the Yanshan Camp—but at the time, something hadn’t felt quite right.
Now thinking again: how long had Prince Wu been in Jizhou? He had never shown any intention of dealing with the Yanshan Camp before this—how could he have secured control over key figures inside the Yanshan Camp so quickly?
Therefore—Prince Yu was the one who had maintained contact with the Yanshan Camp all along. And why would a man who appeared to be an idle, powerless prince be in contact with the largest and most powerful rebel force in Jizhou?
To earn merit?
Li Diudiu dismissed this in his own mind the moment he thought it.
Prince Yu had a grand ambition.
So Li Diudiu looked at Xiahou Zuo, and a few shades of worry appeared in his eyes. But Xiahou Zuo was in particularly good spirits today—after saying all this, he went to start packing his things, and hadn’t noticed Li Diudiu’s expression.
Li Diudiu understood that his happiness came from Prince Yu’s mention of personally selecting warhorses for him and his mother. In this world, how many children truly don’t wish for their parents’ relationship to be warm and close? Especially a child who has grown up seeing his parents’ relationship poorly—he inevitably harbors a deep longing for that relationship to thaw. Xiahou Zuo was exactly that way: beneath all that coldness, he probably longed more than anyone for his parents to reconcile.
So Li Diudiu swallowed back the words that had risen to his lips. He didn’t want to shatter the small, tender hope that had only just appeared in Xiahou Zuo’s heart.
“Actually…”
Li Diudiu smiled. “Could we wait a day or two before leaving?”
“What’s wrong?”
Xiahou Zuo, in the middle of packing, looked back at Li Diudiu. “Do you have something else to do?”
Li Diudiu answered, “My master didn’t get to go into the Yanshan mountains last time. He mentioned having some regrets about that recently, said he’d like to take a look before we go home. So…”
Changmei suddenly snapped his head up, thinking: *When did I ever say that?*
Li Diudiu looked at Changmei. “Isn’t that right, Master?”
Not knowing what Li Diudiu was planning, Changmei immediately nodded. “Mm. I just want a quick look—it’s nothing urgent.”
Xiahou Zuo thought it over. “Alright then—go take a look. I’ll go tell my father in a moment.”
Li Diudiu quickly shook his head. “Don’t—it’ll affect things between you two. You only just agreed to him. How about this: we’ve already been up there once before and I know the way. I’ll just go up with Master for a look and come right back. You wait in camp. If your father asks, just say you don’t know where we went—he won’t blame you for it.”
Xiahou Zuo considered. “Then I’ll arrange some guards to go with you. Don’t go too far into the mountains.”
Li Diudiu agreed with a smile. “Don’t worry.”
—