Two months later, just after the first month of the second year of Tianhe had passed. The spring cold remained undiminished, and snow filled the roads of Chang’an.
The great event that the people of the capital had been talking about with relish for some time had finally arrived.
Today, the current Regent Lord Qi would marry the daughter of General Jiang Zuwang, Grand General of the Anbei Protectorate, General Changning Jiang Hanyuan.
Regarding this woman, Jiang, in earlier years in the capital, no one knew of her. It was only three years ago, following the court’s great victory in the Battle of Qingmu Plain in Yanmen Prefecture, that her name became known.
It was said that at the time, regarding whether to fight that battle, the generals under Jiang Zuwang held differing opinions. Under the influence of the court’s long-term primarily defensive strategy, the generals naturally were mostly conservative. She, however, like a newborn calf, was one of the few war advocates that day, believing that with adequate preparation, the battle could be fought. In the end, it was she who requested orders and signed a military pledge, leading a suicide vanguard of three hundred men in a night assault from Xixing Pass, successfully tearing through the Beidi defense line. The army then pressed forward to achieve a great victory, recapturing this important strategic point and connecting the severed defense lines on both sides. Subsequently, Qingmu Sai was established with her leading troops stationed there permanently. It was after that battle that her reputation in the military soared—everyone knew her name. In the following two years, the Beidi Prince Chi Shu, the Southern King, also sent troops several times attempting to retake Qingmu Sai, but never succeeded.
Indeed, since ancient times, few women had joined the military, and such outstanding ones were rarer than phoenix feathers and unicorn horns. So when the battle reports reached the capital, they caused a sensation. Emperor Ming, who was still on the throne at the time, specially issued an edict conferring the title of Changning to commend her. After becoming famous, probably because of her female identity yet being so fierce on the battlefield, embellished rumors about her being a reincarnated wolf girl who transformed under the full moon became increasingly believable. However, after that period passed, she was gradually forgotten, until recently, because of this marriage, she again became the most watched figure in the capital. “Eight feet tall,” “ten spans around the waist,” “voice like thunder,” “tiger-headed demon”—they only stopped short of saying she could breathe fire and travel eight hundred li in a day. People in the markets spoke with flying spittle as if they had seen her with their own eyes. As for the earlier tales of “wolf girl incarnation” and “bloodthirsty under the full moon,” needless to say, these spread until even women and children knew them.
Everyone was extremely curious, finally waiting for this day. It was said that the female general’s party had already arrived at the post station beside Wei Bridge on the Wei River, ten or some li from the northern Guang Gate, the night before. There was a relay station there that had been cleared of idle people several days ago, with water sprinkled and roads swept, and surrounded by tent enclosures set up for the wedding ceremony.
Although the roads were restricted today, with the Tianmen Bureau, Dimen Bureau, and various Imperial Guard battalions all deploying troops every few dozen steps along the route, they still couldn’t stop the curious from proceeding. Idle people didn’t mind the distance and flocked out of the city toward the Wei Bridge. As for within the city, the main thoroughfare leading to the Regent’s mansion and the area near the mansion were already packed early with men, women, and children of all ages, waiting for the Regent to escort the female general. The lively scene was comparable to the Lantern Festival.
Jiang Hanyuan stood alone in the post station, dressed in wedding attire, at the window.
That faint rainbow shadow in the distance outside the window was Wei Bridge, connecting the north and south banks of the Wei River—the central main road from Chang’an to the many prefectures west and north of the Wei. For thousands of years, whether traveling west, going north, or journeying far to the Golden Palace, among the red dust and purple paths, it was here that Chang’an travelers came and went. The farewell wine of the disappointed, the swift hoofbeats of the successful—day after day, they played out atop this ancient Wei River bridge, cycle after cycle, like the river beneath the bridge, never ceasing.
Dusk gradually deepened. On the bridgehead, willows heavy with snow, the first lantern specially hung for today suddenly lit up. Then the second, the third… Almost in the blink of an eye, the bridge was successively filled with lights, red fruits one by one, giant red eyes floating above the Wei River, tinged with a faint snow color, swaying gently.
A knocking sound came to her ears. It was Attendant He Cong personally coming to request her presence, saying the Regent had arrived with the bridal carriage to escort her and was waiting outside at this moment.
She knew. Moments before, the solemn yet peaceful sound of ceremonial bells and music had already reached her ears.
“She’s coming out! She’s coming out!”
The Chang’an idlers standing far away on high ground, craning their necks to look, stirred with excitement.
The dusk was hazy, red light filled the sky. Two guiding attendants in front each held a golden feathered fan, crossing them diagonally to shield the Jiang woman, but in the brief moment when she walked out of the enclosure, one could still catch a general glimpse.
She seemed to be just an ordinary woman in appearance, not showing the rumored eight feet tall, ten spans around the waist, vajra-like form. The crowd stirred again—some disappointed, some surprised, some doubtful—sighs and exclamations rose and fell.
The bridal carriage that came to fetch her had already stopped outside the gate. That carriage had a large body with golden decorations front and back. On the red silk of the carriage screen, golden clouds and pheasant patterns were embroidered all over. Even the spokes of the tall carriage wheels were painted with vermilion teeth. Surrounded by torches, it was magnificently golden and brilliant.
Jiang Hanyuan boarded this wedding carriage. Amid the sounds of praise, the carriage curtains fell. A large ceremonial procession led in front and followed behind. A driver in dark robes sat in front of the carriage, raised his whip, and the row of fine horses adorned with golden bridles and jade bits started their hooves. The carriage glided forward.
The sky had completely darkened. A full moon, bright as a silver plate, rose into Chang’an’s night sky.
The bridal carriage passed through the city gates. The clamorous sounds mixed with laughter and calls suddenly amplified, surging like waves from all directions, completely submerging people. Chang’an’s markets were already lit by thousands of homes, and tonight they were even more brilliantly radiant. Torches illuminated half the city, stealing the moon’s glow and reddening the remaining snow. That light penetrated the brocade curtains covering the carriage exterior, making the inside also hazily luminous, as if one were floating in an illusory dream.
The carriage wheels rolled unhurriedly over the gaps between the flat stones paving the road, slightly bumping. After boarding the carriage, Jiang Hanyuan felt somewhat tired. Leaning back with closed eyes, suddenly, mixed with waves of “Long live and eternal peace” shouts, another thunderous group cheer arose from both sides of the road ahead. This was the people being captivated by the bearing of the Regent, who was riding his horse in the center of the main road tonight, spontaneously cheering.
“Mother! Where is the female general? I don’t see her! Will she transform into a wolf under the full moon? Mother, look—tonight the moon is full! If she eats the Regent, what should we do?”
In that ocean-like cheering ahead, from the roadside outside the carriage, a tender child’s voice suddenly drifted over faintly. Before the child’s voice finished, it abruptly disappeared, apparently silenced by the mother beside him covering his mouth.
Jiang Hanyuan had been feeling somewhat drowsy from the carriage’s jolting, but that child’s shout woke her up a bit. She suddenly felt that this long journey that brought nothing but fatigue had finally become slightly more interesting because of this one innocent, unguarded, childish remark.
Shu Shenhui was said to be quite beloved by the people. It seemed this was indeed true. On this night of the full moon, even the naive children in Chang’an City were worrying for him.
Don’t worry.
The corners of her lips curved slightly upward, whether speaking to that worried child or to that figure on horseback in front of the carriage who was now escorting her to the Regent’s mansion.
Even if that person called Jiang Hanyuan could truly transform under the moonlight, she would not eat that person.
From the first day she understood things, she had realized that on the battlefield, that place of carnage, she had no natural advantages. Her only advantage was that she would put in more effort than others and have greater fortitude of will. If her hands developed blood blisters, so what—they would naturally scab over and heal. If they broke open again, bled again, scabbed over again—repeatedly, until one day when both hands were covered with thick calluses, she would no longer feel pain.
That year, she was thirteen, reading military texts, participating in battles, killing people, rolling and tumbling with soldiers all day long. She was always silent, from morning to evening, her head and face covered with dust and dirt, her body bearing bruises from falls and tumbles, and what seemed like the perpetual mixed smell of mud and sweat that could never be washed clean. She looked no different from those young soldiers around her who, due to poverty and having no one to depend on, had to join the military early. The people around her were also accustomed to her presence—the Grand General’s daughter, who had been nursed by wolves, was naturally born different from ordinary people. She seemed to have become a special person beyond gender. Many of them had already been there before she arrived at this place.
In autumn, Emperor Wu sent the Third Prince, Lord Anle, to tour the northern borders, and he came to Xixing Pass in Yanmen Prefecture.
Lord Anle had just turned seventeen that year, not yet reaching the cap ceremony, still with a youth’s body. His appearance was beautiful and refined, his manner noble and elegant. Everyone thought he would be aloof and superior, and Jiang Zuwang had many concerns. He knew all too well what members of the imperial family were like.
But soon, with Lord Anle’s arrival, all concerns vanished. Whether it was his casual and amiable manner of going down to the military camp on his first night to drink and chat with the soldiers, or the bearing and grace he subsequently displayed, all of it won over everyone in the military camp from top to bottom.
He would stay here for half a month. Jiang Zuwang had originally thought he would only inspect around Xixing Pass and had prepared refined quarters in the city, but after the first day, he abandoned his ceremonial entourage and traveled along the northern frontier, visiting every important strategic point from east to west without omission. When darkness fell and they were still on the road, they would camp in the open fields. Finally, upon returning, he left Xixing Pass again to reach Qingmu Plain, which was still occupied by the Beidi at that time, climbed to high ground, and observed the terrain and defensive arrangements on the opposite side at close range.
The weather was fine that day. Beidi sentries quickly spotted the people on the high ground, bringing archers who fired in coordinated volleys. For a moment, arrows filled the sky, shooting from the opposite side. The dense whistling sound of arrow shafts cutting through the air was like a violent storm bearing down overhead.
The distance was too great—the arrows shot from afar finally only fell on the slope before the high ground, sticking into the earth. But such a display still made people break into a cold sweat, and among those present, few did not change color. Yet he remained composed, his feet not moving an inch. The Beidi garrison troops finally gave up shooting arrows but were unwilling to accept defeat, so they used the Central Plains language they had learned to shout curses loudly. The curses were unbearable to hear, carried faintly on the wind.
At that time, all those present, including Jiang Zuwang, changed color again—this time from anger. Fearing Lord Anle would be offended, they wanted to summon archers to organize a counterattack with shield protection, advancing ten or more zhang. This way, their arrows should be able to reach the opposite side. Unexpectedly, they were stopped.
“What use would it be to shoot all these jumping clowns dead before our eyes today?”
Lord Anle, whose build still carried some of a youth’s lean quality, looked at those Beidi soldiers across the way who kept cursing and laughing wildly in humiliation, and said this calmly.
“Grand General, keep the arrows for now. When the day comes, shooting them all back together will not be too late.”
Indeed, organizing return fire was originally a matter of saving face and had no practical significance. Jiang Zuwang had arranged it this way only because the humiliation from across was too much, wanting to preserve this prince’s dignity before everyone’s eyes.
He had not expected the other party to say such words.
Although this accompanying border tour had already made Jiang Zuwang develop considerable respect for this young prince, at this moment, he was still surprised by the rare forbearance and composure the other showed, which didn’t match his age.
Lord Anle spoke these words plainly, as if in casual conversation, but at that moment Jiang Zuwang suddenly had a feeling that if the court could have someone like Lord Anle in charge in the future, then in his lifetime, after defending for the long, seemingly endless twenty years, perhaps one day he would finally be able to wait for the hope of going on the offensive.
Naturally, all of this had nothing to do with Jiang Hanyuan. However, if one insisted on saying there was some connection, there actually wasn’t none at all.
Because of Lord Anle’s arrival, her maternal grandfather had also come early from Yunluo to participate in the audience.
When his entire itinerary ended and her grandfather departed, she saw him off, accompanying him far away before reluctantly returning. She remembered that it was evening then, the sunset like fire, when she encountered Lord Anle’s party on a country road more than ten li from Xixing military camp.
He wore civilian clothes and rode a swift horse, with a bow hanging from his saddle horn. Beside him rode the Prince Consort and Commandant Chen Lun, who accompanied him, with seven or eight followers, all guards.
She knew why he would appear in this place.
His business was finished. On his last day before returning to the capital, he wanted to tour alone and told Jiang Zuwang he did not need to accompany him. The party should now be returning from their excursion, but for some unknown reason, they had stopped their horses on the road, seemingly discussing something.
On the first day of his arrival, Jiang Hanyuan had glimpsed him from afar across the large crowd welcoming him. Recognizing him and not wanting to encounter him, she turned her horse to leave by another route, but she had already been seen by the opposite party. A guard shouted at her, “You, come here!”
Jiang Hanyuan had no choice but to dismount, walk over, and bow to the person sitting high on horseback in the center of the group.
“A soldier from Xixing camp?” He looked her over.
“Yes.”
“Which unit?”
“Infantry.”
“How old?”
“Fourteen.”
She told a lie.
In those years with no major wars, the court had regulations forbidding government recruitment of males under fourteen for the sake of population growth. But in many poor families among the common people, whether for food or seeking merit, there would still be males younger than this age joining the military. If discovered in the camps, they usually turned a blind eye and let it pass.
Her height at that time, standing straight, barely reached the back of the white steed beneath his legs. She saw him seem to glance again at her stature, not believing her answer about her age, but he didn’t pursue it further.
“Do you know Ling Qiu?” he asked.
Ling Qiu was the tomb of King Wuling of Zhao from the Warring States period, the sixth-generation ruler of the Zhao state. He adopted barbarian dress and archery, held reins and carried bows, destroyed the Zhongshan state in the south that had long received support from powerful neighbors, crushing the powerful neighbors’ intention to use Zhongshan to restrain the Zhao state. Going north, he greatly defeated the Loufan and Linhu tribes, establishing the Gate of Infinity. For a time, he was a hero without equal. Unfortunately, he was indecisive in family matters, brewing internal disasters. Finally, in his status as Retired King, he was starved to death alive by his son in Qiu Palace in his prime, and after death could not enter the royal mausoleum. He was buried alone, far away in this borderland where he had once galloped on horseback, causing countless later literati to visit and mourn, filled with melancholy thoughts of the past.
Jiang Hanyuan nodded and pointed northeast. “There’s a shortcut. The road is somewhat difficult, but on horseback, you can reach it in a day.”
The young Lord Anle followed her pointing direction, gazing for a moment at distant Ling Qiu in the sunset.
“You lead the way for me!”
He turned back and said.