In the depths of winter, the triumphant army returned to the capital.

This was a force composed of three thousand men. Among them were the white-haired veterans who had followed Jiang Zuwang in guarding Yanmen for many years, the backbone soldiers from units like the Qingmu Battalion that formed the army’s core, and countless young men who had been unknown before this battle but who now emerged with distinction. They represented all the participating soldiers, returning to the capital laden with honors. Along their route, they were warmly welcomed by crowds of local people wherever they passed. Upon reaching Chang’an, they caused a citywide sensation. The soldiers wore their helmets and armor, their formations orderly and precise. The imposing presence of this victorious army was magnificent and awe-inspiring, leaving observers both shocked and stirred with passion. It was said that many families with daughters of marriageable age pursued them overnight to the military camps, scheming to approach them in hopes of selecting good husbands for their daughters from among these men. There were even cases where multiple families took a fancy to the same handsome young officer and competed for him. While such stories might be mere tavern gossip and not entirely true, they revealed the enormous impact of this triumphant return.

The grand celebration ceremony arrived as scheduled.

With Chi Shu’s death in the marshlands, his final planned counterattack was completely shattered. The remnants of the Beidi army fell apart, and after barely managing to escape pursuit and withdraw, internal strife broke out among them. Lord Youchang Muda finally rose to power based on his former reputation, nominally reuniting the Beidi once more. However, by this point, they were severely weakened and no longer capable of advancing south. This northern neighbor, which had once pressed against the northern borders for decades and kept the Central Plains dynasty restless day and night, would never again possess its former strength – the roles of attacker and defender had reversed.

For Great Wei, this battle meant that the unfulfilled ambitions that had been planned since Emperor Wu’s reign were now completely realized. Great Wei’s might extended in all directions, and the surrounding small states that had previously wavered all submitted and came under its administration.

The empire’s glory would henceforth shine like the sun over the vast lands from south to north.

The curtain of a golden age had slowly begun to rise.

That grand triumphant ceremony held by the Wei River remained an indelible memory in countless hearts even years later. According to those fortunate enough to witness it firsthand, on that day, Great Wei’s female general Jiang Hanyuan, clad in bright armor, led three thousand mighty and valiant soldiers in presenting captives to the young emperor on the high platform. Banners blocked out the sun, golden weapons reflected the cold light. The young emperor wore the imperial crown and robes of state, with sun and moon on his shoulders and star mountains behind him. He sat upright in his position, sunlight shining on his crown and robes with dazzling golden radiance, displaying the full majesty of the Son of Heaven. When he ordered the execution of the prisoners, the spurting blood stained half the water’s surface red. As the soldiers in iron armor clanged and knelt in worship, their swords and blades collided, producing a mighty roar that, combined with the passionate and deep shouts of “Long live!”, also echoed across the magnificent surface of the Wei River. At that moment, fierce winds blew hard, bending the grass and trees on both banks. Looking into the distance, it seemed as if the depths too concealed thousands of troops and horses, waiting only for the call to break through battle lines and emerge.

All present were moved by this scene.

The wind, carrying the scent of blood, blew across the Wei River and drifted away toward distant lands.

In the royal court, Muda stood on high ground, gazing south.

This past year had felt longer and more torturous than a lifetime to him. He appeared to have aged ten years.

This position he now held was one he had not been without thoughts of before, and now he could be said to have achieved his wish. But he had never imagined it would come to this state.

Once commanding the wind and clouds with soaring ambitions, now everything had dissipated like morning dew.

No matter how he and Chi Shu, or others, had once guarded against each other or been irreconcilable enemies, one thing had never changed: that magnificent city to the south, the most prosperous in the world, was their shared goal for generations. For this goal, at least he had made the greatest effort within his power, which was why, in the end, he had compromised with Chi Shu again to assist in the counterattack.

Yet now, as if it had all been an empty dream, everything had ended this way.

Though filled with unwillingness, he had to accept this reality: they could no longer bear another war. Having lost Youyan, the supplies needed to sustain major warfare were almost completely cut off. Due to initial underestimation of the enemy and later battlefield mistakes, large numbers of young men had died on the battlefield, never to return. Those men had also been sons, husbands, and fathers – the desperate cries of women and children echoed day and night outside the royal court.

Once they had been so close to their dream, seemingly just one step away.

Their mandate from heaven was not yet exhausted. This was all he could tell himself. As long as they lay low and endure, in the future, they could still make a comeback and realize their dreams.

But facing that empire now at the height of its power, did their mandate from heaven truly still exist?

His melancholy gaze turned toward Yanmen.

He knew that their greatest enemy, the one who had once sat high in Chang’an’s court and single-handedly planned this battle that determined national fate, might at this very moment be standing somewhere unknown to him.

He didn’t know what that person was thinking, but as for himself, in this life, he would probably never again set foot on that land.

The wind howled past, and his melancholy sighs, like the withered wild grass covering the ground, tumbled and scattered with the wind across the vast wilderness.

…

After the triumphant ceremony ended, there was a palace banquet where the young emperor would personally receive the meritorious generals. This was a tremendous honor. Xiao Lixian, Zhao Pu, Zhou Qing, Zhang Mi, Yang Hu, and others all entered the palace to attend the feast.

Jiang Hanyuan did not go. She declined because observing filial mourning would be inappropriate at such a grand feast. That night, she remained alone at the prince’s mansion. In the study, she inadvertently discovered practice calligraphy she had left behind, and thinking of past events, couldn’t help but smile. She then took out his stone rubbings, lit the lamp bright, sat under the lamplight, and with calm focus began practicing calligraphy again. As she bent her head over the copybook, the mansion steward knocked on the door, saying a visitor had come.

The visitor was Wen Wan.

The steward said she had come in a carriage accompanied by her husband, but had not entered. She had only brought a box of fortune cakes, saying she had made them herself, and knowing Jiang Hanyuan had returned, wanted to bring them for her to taste.

Only then did Jiang Hanyuan remember that old Chang’an families had the custom of making cakes in early winter to pray for good fortune in the coming year and advancement step by step.

It was said that after the Wen family became engaged to the Zhou family, the Zhou family came under pressure, and the parents were frightened, wanting to break the engagement. But the Zhou family son was infatuated with Wen Wan and strongly opposed this. After their smooth marriage, the couple was well-matched in interests and lived peacefully but very happily.

She had not expected that tonight, Wen Wan would bring her cakes.

Looking at the food box the steward presented, she was quite surprised and hurried out, walking quickly to the gate. In the distance, she saw a woman walking toward a carriage stopped by the roadside. Beside the carriage stood a young man with proper features and refined bearing, holding a lantern and waiting for the woman.

“Wan Niang!”

Jiang Hanyuan called out to the woman’s retreating figure.

The woman stopped and turned around.

It was indeed Wen Wan.

Though it had been a long time since they last met, Wen Wan’s appearance was as beautiful as before, but upon closer inspection, it was somewhat different from the past. Her face was more rounded than before, with a few touches of a young wife’s fullness. She wore a cloak that, though thick, could not conceal the slight swelling of her lower abdomen – she appeared to be with child.

The man waiting by the carriage should be her husband, the Zhou family’s young master.

“Thank you for the fortune cakes!” Jiang Hanyuan expressed her gratitude.

“I didn’t expect you to come… but I’m very glad. If you’re not busy, why not come in and sit for a while?”

She nodded to the woman and spoke thus.

Wen Wan did not approach; she only stood where she was, looking at her. After a moment, her face slowly broke into a smile, then she gathered her skirts and performed a solemn bow of gratitude from afar, before turning and continuing toward the carriage.

Her husband quickly handed the lantern to the coachman and walked swiftly to her side. First, he respectfully bowed to Jiang Hanyuan, and after completing his salute, he supported her arm.

Jiang Hanyuan stood at the gate, watching as her husband carefully helped her into the carriage. The coachman urged the horses forward, and the carriage slowly moved away, gradually disappearing into the night.

She did not immediately go inside, but remained standing on the steps at the mansion gate, looking ahead.

Night had just fallen, and the city was already filled with countless lights, dense as stars. People hurried past at the intersection, rushing home. From the direction of the markets, she seemed to hear the din of voices mixed with dialects and various sounds, carried faintly on the wind.

This was just another ordinary Chang’an night, common and plain.

Yet perhaps this very ordinariness and plainness was the greatest meaning of that day’s triumphant ceremony.

Jiang Hanyuan listened quietly for a moment, then turned and went inside. She returned to the study, sat down, opened the box lid, and took a piece of the carefully made cake sprinkled with fine sugar frosting, eating a bite.

It was sweet and soft, quite delicious.

That night, she slept early, her heart at peace.

The next day, Yang Hu’s mother came to visit under her son’s escort. Accompanying her was Yang Hu’s little niece named Aguo.

Yang Hu had been appointed as a fourth-rank Imperial Guard and concurrent Left Deputy Commander of the Earth Gate Division, a position second only to Liu Xiang. Not only that, but his elder brother had also been restored to the rank of Duke, and recently their household had been bustling with visitors. Some time ago, before Yang Hu had even returned, their home’s threshold had nearly been worn down by people coming to arrange marriages for him.

Yang Hu seemed somewhat helpless about his mother’s insistence on coming to visit, explaining: “I told mother that you, General, don’t like being disturbed.”

Jiang Hanyuan walked past Yang Hu and quickly came before Yang Hu’s mother, personally helping her up and telling her there was no need for such formalities.

Yang Hu’s mother was very pleased but insisted on performing the proper courtesies, saying: “That my Qi Lang could achieve today’s position, that the Yang family could reach today’s status, is entirely due to the General’s support and guidance. I heard the General will soon be returning home. If this old woman didn’t come personally to express gratitude, how could my heart be at peace? Originally, Qi Lang’s elder brother and sister-in-law also wanted to come, but ultimately didn’t dare disturb you too much. So this old woman brought the sincere feelings of our entire family, and relying on my advanced age, dared to bring Aguo and presumptuously come to thank the General.”

Aguo was dressed in new clothes today and had grown much taller than Jiang Hanyuan remembered from two years ago. Standing beside her grandmother, she spoke clearly and already carried herself with some of the refined bearing of a young lady. But when Jiang Hanyuan looked at her with a smile, her face showed the same shy yet joyful expression as before.

Jiang Hanyuan escorted them from the mansion, and after bidding farewell to Yang Hu’s mother, Yang Hu helped his mother into the carriage. The little girl waiting outside the carriage hesitated, then said in a low voice: “General, last time when you came to my house, you brought me a bag of candy. You said it was from my Seventh Uncle asking you to give it to me. But when he came back this time, I asked him, and he said he didn’t know about it…”

She looked up slightly at Jiang Hanyuan: “It must have been the General who brought it for me yourself.”

She hadn’t expected Aguo to still remember that bag of candy after all this time. Jiang Hanyuan smiled: “I bought it on that street outside your house. Going down from the street corner, there’s an old shop in the middle. If you like it, ask your Seventh Uncle to buy it for you. He was too busy before, so he forgot.”

Aguo nodded: “I like it!”

“He’s already bought it for me to eat. And he says I can have it every day now.” She added another sentence.

“But I don’t know why, I always feel that only that bag the General brought me back then tasted the best.” The little girl’s voice carried some confusion.

Jiang Hanyuan laughed again: “When you grow up, you’ll understand why the same candy tasted better back then.”

Aguo’s eyes showed confusion again, but soon she nodded and looked toward Yang Hu by the carriage.

“Before, I wished every day for Seventh Uncle to come back. Now that he’s returned, father, mother, and grandmother – our whole family is very happy, and I’m happy too, but he doesn’t seem very happy. Last night, when he came back from the palace, he got drunk and fell asleep. I heard him mumbling in his sleep, seeming to mention Yanmen. Does he want to go back there? But isn’t that a border region? All the adults say Chang’an is good. General, do you know why he’s unhappy after returning to Chang’an?”

“Aguo!”

Yang Hu seemed to have heard something and called out.

Aguo closed her mouth. He walked over and helped his niece into the carriage as well. After Aguo got in and leaned against the carriage window, showing her face and reluctantly bidding farewell to Jiang Hanyuan once more, he also respectfully said goodbye and asked her to stay behind.

Jiang Hanyuan turned to go back inside. A moment later, she suddenly heard a series of hurried footsteps behind her.

She turned around and saw Yang Hu had returned, so she stopped, smiling as she asked: “Is there something else?”

Yang Hu turned his head, gazing at the northern sky, and after a moment, slowly said: “General, General Fan didn’t return this time. Before departing, I bid him farewell and asked why he refused the honors and returned to Yunluo City. He said he was originally from Yunluo City, that his family had existed for generations to protect the master of the house. He had initially come out to accompany the General, and now that the war was over and the General no longer needed him, honors and official positions were merely external burdens to him. To return and continue protecting Yunluo City was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.”

He turned his gaze back to Jiang Hanyuan’s face.

“I very much envied him, unencumbered, able to go where he wished and do what he wanted.”

“All banquets under heaven must end, so we part here. But please remember me, Yang Hu. In the future, no matter when, and no matter where I am, if the General calls, I will return at the first moment to serve under your command and continue to serve!”

“Having followed the General and been a member of the Qingmu Battalion is the greatest honor of my life, Yang Hu!”

As he spoke, tears welled slightly in his eyes.

He had already removed his battle robes and wore ordinary clothes today, but he knelt on one knee and performed the old military salute to Jiang Hanyuan. When finished, he turned and left.

Jiang Hanyuan watched his retreating figure, her mind filled with the image of his young and reckless face when he first entered the military camp, the countless times they had fought side by side and faced death together. A surge of warmth rose in her chest, and she called out loudly to his back: “Yang Hu! Qi Lang!”

“Being able to fight alongside you and countless comrades like you has also been the greatest honor of my life, Jiang Hanyuan!”

Hearing this, Yang Hu stopped, slowly turned around, and gazed at her for a moment. Suddenly, he smiled at her, his eyes shining and his expression radiant, then strode away with large steps.

Jiang Hanyuan watched him go, her lips curved in a constant smile.

She would leave tomorrow. Before departing, she accepted an invitation to Prince Xian’s mansion for a farewell banquet held in her honor.

In this city, anyone she didn’t wish to see, she could avoid seeing. Even that young man in the palace. Only Prince Xian was an exception.

Even if Prince Xian hadn’t invited her, she would have gone to pay her respects before leaving.

Before the triumphant return, Prince Xian had already submitted a memorial, requesting to resign from all his court positions on the grounds of advanced age, declining strength, and insufficient energy.

He was indeed old. At this age, he should have long since been enjoying his grandchildren, but previously, though he had the heart to retire, he was bound by numerous duties and had no freedom to follow his wishes. Now that the northern borders were pacified and the emperor’s voice was clear as a young phoenix, formally taking personal control of government, his determination to leave was resolute.

The young emperor pleaded earnestly to retain him, but it was futile. In the end, he could only consent. On that day, he helped Prince Xian to the seat of honor and led all the officials in expressing gratitude – a scene that moved all who witnessed it. However, some who were overly cautious, or perhaps shocked by Lan Rong’s fate and feeling the sorrow of the rabbit at the fox’s death, had different views: With the regent gone from court, the young emperor had been freed from restraint, as if a mountain pressing down on him had been removed – how could he still tolerate interference? People like Lan Rong, after the regent’s departure, had no further use to the young emperor, so such an ending was only natural. Now that Prince Xian remains, he naturally should also retire.

Such judgments bordered on great disrespect. Previously, when officials looked down on the young emperor, they might have dared to discuss such matters privately. Now, as he gradually gained power and established his authority, who would dare speak such words aloud? At most, they were private thoughts. Moreover, the heart of a ruler was beyond the comprehension of subjects. However, looking at the court’s previous central figures: the regent had left the court, like a brilliant sun suddenly disappearing from the sky – what the true situation was, everyone kept silent about it, no one dared to discuss it. Lan Rong’s disgrace and tragic end, though deserved, still inevitably caused sighs. In contrast, Prince Xian had served through the reigns of Emperor Wu, Emperor Ming, and the young emperor, enjoying great honor while also contributing significantly, yet achieving a good beginning and end – he could truly be called blessed and complete, making others envious.

In the evening, Jiang Hanyuan came to Prince Xian’s mansion, presented the gifts she had prepared, and Prince Xian asked about Shu Shenhui’s injuries.

“He is no longer in danger. The medicinal materials Imperial Uncle sent have been received and are quite effective. He is very grateful. The journey is long, and he couldn’t come to thank you personally, so he instructed me to be sure to convey his gratitude.”

“Thank you for Imperial Uncle’s great kindness.”

After speaking, Jiang Hanyuan rose and walked before Prince Xian, bowing deeply in gratitude.

Prince Xian told her to rise: “As long as his injuries are healing, that’s the greatest blessing.”

Jiang Hanyuan smiled and replied: “Indeed, it is.”

Prince Xian fell silent, as if lost in some memory. Jiang Hanyuan stood quietly waiting. After a moment, she heard him murmur: “I remember his youthful aspirations… Now with no more constraints, being able to do what he wishes is fortunate for him…”

He seemed to be speaking to her, yet also to himself. Though he spoke of fortune, his expression inadvertently revealed a touch of faint melancholy.

“Imperial Uncle speaks very truly,” Jiang Hanyuan replied again.

“I think you’re getting senile!”

At this moment, a laughing voice of reproach came from behind.

Jiang Hanyuan turned around and saw the old princess consort had arrived. She wore a smile as she approached.

“Now the northern borders are peaceful, the soldiers have returned triumphantly, and ruler and subjects are of one heart. The matter you were most worried about – Jin Mei’s injuries – is also resolved. Everything is good news. And there’s the greatest piece of good news: you’ve been busy for most of your life, always looking forward to this day, and now it’s finally come true. You’ll be free from now on. Instead of celebrating, you’re making Hanyuan listen to such meaningless talk. If this isn’t senility, what is?”

Prince Xian was left speechless by the old princess consort’s words. He shook his head and suddenly laughed heartily, turning to Jiang Hanyuan: “Your Imperial Aunt is right! I am getting senile! I should be celebrating! If Jin Mei knew about this, he’d probably blame me for dampening your spirits. Go on, both of you!”

The old princess consort came up, smiling as she took Jiang Hanyuan’s hand, leading her outside while chatting about family matters.

“…Yongtai came early with my grandson. Thanks to you, I finally got to hold my grandson again. And that Eighth Division princess is here too. Just now, when she didn’t see you, she kept asking about you. If I don’t bring you over soon, I’m afraid she’ll come looking for you herself…”

The family banquet was held in a quiet place in the mansion’s rear courtyard. As night fell and bright lights were lit, there weren’t many attendees – only about ten people total. Except for Xiao Linhua, who could be considered an outsider, the rest were all inner family members from the prince’s mansion. There was also one other person – Liu Xiang’s daughter. She was already engaged to one of Prince Xian’s grandsons and was only waiting for the wedding date. She could be considered half a member of the prince’s household, so tonight she was also invited. This was a girl with beautiful features and a gentle temperament, much beloved by the old princess consort. During the meal, since she and Xiao Linhua were close in age, they were seated together, and the two got along immediately. Xiao Linhua seemed particularly excited tonight, with her laughter filling almost the entire hall. She also drank cup after cup of wine, and by the end of the feast, she was drunk, unable to sit steadily and nearly sliding off her seat. The old princess consort quickly had people come to help her rest, but she still refused to put down her wine cup, insisting she wasn’t drunk. “I’m too happy! Even if I drank a hundred more cups, I’d be fine.”

Recently, news had spread from the palace that the young emperor would take the Eighth Division princess as a consort. Though the wedding date was to be determined, the matter was settled. This was also one of Xiao Lixian’s purposes in coming to Chang’an – besides participating in the triumphant ceremony, he also carried the hopes of the Eighth Division people to facilitate this marriage. Now that their wish was realized, Xiao Linhua’s mood was understandably good. Having a few extra drinks was nothing unusual, but everyone could see her flushed face and somewhat slurred speech, clearly showing she was beyond her capacity for alcohol. Yet she still wanted to drink more. Given her now somewhat special status, no one dared let her continue. Knowing she usually listened to Jiang Hanyuan, they all looked over.

Jiang Hanyuan was sitting with Princess Yongtai, having just taken her and Chen Lun’s little son from his wet nurse and playing with him. The child’s body was soft, and Jiang Hanyuan, afraid of hurting him, held him carefully. Princess Yongtai, seeing her apparent nervousness, laughed and casually said: “Last time when Third Brother came, it was also his first time, but I saw him hold the baby quite naturally.”

Jiang Hanyuan found it hard to imagine that scene and laughed. Seeing Xiao Linhua’s drunken state, Princess Yongtai took her son back. Jiang Hanyuan went over, and before she could speak, Xiao Linhua threw her arms around her arm, complaining: “Why won’t they let me drink! I’m so happy today, I can still drink more—” Before she finished speaking, her eyes closed, her head tilted, and she collapsed against Jiang Hanyuan, actually falling asleep. Everyone laughed quietly, and the old princess consort also smiled and shook her head, quickly sending someone to inform the inn that the princess would stay the night at their residence. Jiang Hanyuan personally took Xiao Linhua to rest and sober up. They entered an elegantly furnished room, and she helped her lie down. After settling her, seeing her close her eyes as if deeply asleep, Jiang Hanyuan stood up and was about to tiptoe out when her sleeve was grabbed.

She stopped and saw that Xiao Linhua still had her eyes closed, but said softly: “Sister General, you’re leaving tomorrow, and I don’t know when we’ll meet again. Could you stay with me a little longer?”

So she was still awake and hadn’t completely fallen into drunken sleep.

Jiang Hanyuan smiled helplessly, hearing the slightly pleading tone in her words. How could she refuse? She lay down beside her, still clothed.

“You don’t need to return to the inn tonight. Stay here and sleep peacefully.”

Xiao Linhua made a sound of agreement. At first, she lay as before, but gradually moved closer to her, finally resting her face against her shoulder, motionless.

Jiang Hanyuan closed her eyes to rest, but soon noticed that something seemed wrong with Xiao Linhua. After hesitating, she opened her eyes and gently patted her back: “What’s wrong? Are you feeling very uncomfortable from the alcohol?”

She turned to sit up, about to call for someone to bring sobering remedies, but saw Xiao Linhua suddenly open her eyes and also sit up, pressing her palms against her face, mumbling: “It’s too hot. I’ll go outside for some air. Sister General, if you have things to do, just go ahead. Don’t worry about me.” With that, she gave Jiang Hanyuan an apologetic smile, and without help from anyone, climbed down from the bed, hastily put on her shoes, and walked outside.

Her steps were unsteady. Jiang Hanyuan took a cloak from a servant and followed her out. She saw Xiao Linhua walking with her head down, aimlessly, finally passing through a wall gate into the plum garden, stopping on a small path, standing motionless. Suddenly, she murmured: “How quickly time passes, Sister General. I remember when I first came to Chang’an, I also feasted with you here. At that time, I understood nothing, and you had just become the regent’s consort not long before. In the blink of an eye, it’s been two years…”

In the night wind rustling through the plum branches, she fell silent.

Jiang Hanyuan watched her back, then, after a moment, walked to her side and gently placed the cloak she’d brought on her shoulders.

“What’s wrong? Do you have something on your mind?” she asked gently.

Xiao Linhua continued standing motionless for a while, then slowly turned around, looking at Jiang Hanyuan with a confused expression.

“Sister General, do you also think I’m unhappy? But I shouldn’t be. Brother Wang is very happy now, and everyone who came with us is happy. I am too…”

She spoke in a murmur.

Jiang Hanyuan knew that what she was referring to was the marriage matter. Sure enough, she continued: “I knew about father and Brother Wang’s plans long before going to Yanmen. I accepted it, truly – I was willing to take on what I should do for the Eighth Division. Now that it’s come true, I should be happy. But I can’t feel happy, and I’m even a bit afraid…”

She paused, looking in the direction of the imperial palace.

This was a night with a full moon. The sky was pitch black with the round moon hanging alone, illuminating that place below.

“What are you afraid of?”

“I’m afraid of that emperor—”

Xiao Linhua withdrew her gaze, hesitated, then finally spoke.

Jiang Hanyuan was startled.

“I originally thought I knew him. But later I realized that he wasn’t at all the person I initially thought he was…”

Before Xiao Linhua’s eyes appeared the scene from that day in the forest outside Fengye City, when that young man had coaxed her behind a tree, blindfolded her, and tricked her into singing continuously while he secretly slipped away. At that time, when she discovered she had been deceived and used by him, though she was very angry, after her anger subsided, whenever she thought of it, alongside her annoyance, she seemed to feel a sense of intimacy. Because that young emperor of Great Wei was no longer a distant, unreachably vague figure to her, but a living, real person.

However, that feeling had now completely vanished. When she thought of that day, she even felt an unreal, illusory sensation.

Were the young man in her previous impressions and the current Great Wei emperor the same person?

The matter went back several months ago. At that time, her elder brother, in coordination with the Wei army, had already captured Yan Prefecture, the battle situation had become clear, and victory was in sight. Yet she discovered that instead of becoming more relaxed, her father seemed more worried than before, his brow constantly furrowed. After the war ended and Brother Wang returned, father discussed matters with him behind closed doors. She guessed they might be talking about her marriage and secretly went to eavesdrop. She hadn’t expected to hear some hidden matters between Great Wei’s regent and that young emperor. Though these were all father’s speculations and deductions, because he had never given up on the marriage alliance plan, he had been constantly watching Great Wei’s court changes and should have had his sources of information. What he said was very likely true. Only then did she understand why Father had been so troubled before – he probably couldn’t be sure what direction Great Wei’s court would take. Later, father’s worries quickly disappeared, everything went smoothly without any incidents, the regent left Chang’an, and the young emperor took personal control. Her marriage was also successfully arranged as her father had hoped. Her elder brother and the Eighth Division people who came this time were all overjoyed. On the surface, she also appeared calm, but the disappointment and fear in her heart lingered.

She could no longer hold back and threw herself into Jiang Hanyuan’s embrace, using her intoxication as an excuse to pour out the bewilderment and fear she had suppressed for so long.

“…How could he be so frightening, so cold-hearted to this extent? I’m not clever, but when I was in Fengye City, I could see that you and the regent were truly good to him. How could you possibly harm him? He should be much smarter than I – how could he not see this? I originally thought he was still quite decent… I never imagined he was that kind of person… I look down on him! I’m also a bit afraid. When I enter the palace, I don’t know what the future will be like, how he’ll treat me…”

Jiang Hanyuan was astonished.

She had long known Xiao Lixian’s purpose in coming to Chang’an this time. The marriage alliance was natural. This was not only the Eighth Division’s wish, but for Great Wei, besides further maintaining post-war border stability, welcoming the Eighth Division princess into the palace as a consort was also a reward for their previous military cooperation – it was an honor. Xiao Linhua had previously shown no abnormality, and Jiang Hanyuan had thought she was satisfied with such an arrangement. In any case, her future position in the palace would certainly not be low. As for other matters… it would depend on whether she and Shu Jian got along in the future.

She hadn’t expected that such concerns were hidden in her heart.

Jiang Hanyuan wanted to comfort her, but didn’t know what to say. The matter was settled with no room for change. She could only embrace the troubled young woman in her arms. Xiao Linhua lay silently in her embrace for a moment, then suddenly raised her head, wiped her reddened eyes, showed Jiang Hanyuan another smile, and said with chagrin: “It’s all my fault. I drank too much tonight and said such nonsense, ruining your mood. Sister General, don’t worry, I’m fine. I thought about this long ago – no matter what kind of person he is or how he treats me in the future, I’ll try my best to be a competent imperial consort and fulfill my duties.”

Jiang Hanyuan looked at this young woman who was instead comforting her, remembering their first meeting. She felt both gratified and slightly melancholy.

The naive and innocent princess could not escape growing up after all. And growing up meant responsibility and bearing burdens.

She said, “Linhua, it’s good that you can think this way. However, you needn’t be too pessimistic either. I’ll tell you – though His Highness has never mentioned it to me, I know he has never blamed His Majesty.”

Xiao Linhua looked at her with surprise.

“No one is perfect, nor do people remain forever unchanged, especially those in that position. Their thoughts are beyond what you and I can truly understand. The His Majesty you saw in Fengye City was him, and the His Majesty who makes you feel uncertain today is also him. He’s not as good as you once imagined, but he’s also not as frightening as you now believe.”

“We are all mortals, and so is he.”

Xiao Linhua was lost in thought for a moment, then slowly said: “I understand… My mood suddenly seems much better. Don’t expect too much of the future, but don’t hold no hope at all either. Do one’s best, and leave the rest to heaven. Sister General, is that what you mean?”

Jiang Hanyuan smiled and nodded: “Yes. You’re very intelligent and will surely live well in the future.”

Xiao Linhua also smiled: “Thank you, Sister General—”

A night breeze made her hiccup from the wine.

Jiang Hanyuan said, “The wind is strong here, and you drank quite a bit tonight. Be careful not to catch a cold. Let’s go back.”

Xiao Linhua nodded, and as she was about to follow her, suddenly stopped again, looking up at the full moon: “Wait! I heard that on nights with a full moon, there’s a Moon Lady in the sky. Let me make a wish to the Moon Lady first!”

She stood facing the moon, her expression becoming serious. She closed her eyes, pressed her palms together, and prayed devoutly in silence. When finished, she opened her eyes and said happily, “Sister General, can you guess what wish I just made? I wished for no more wars and peace in my homeland; I wished for you and His Highness to be safe and sound, blessed as immortal companions forever; and though he’s not a good person, I still wished that he could be a good emperor – if that’s the case, even if I don’t live well in the future, I’ll accept it.”

She opened her eyes and turned to face Jiang Hanyuan, seeing her turn her head to look in the direction they had come from, apparently watching something.

“Sister General, I made so many wishes at once – will the Moon Lady think I’m too greedy?”

She laughed while following Jiang Hanyuan’s gaze in the direction she was looking.