Without waiting for Jiang Hanyuan to answer, he continued speaking on his own: “Four years ago, in the autumn of the fourth year of Zhongping under the late emperor, he returned from the Western Regions and was saved by you. Going back six years from that, in the third month of the thirty-sixth year of Shengwu Dachong, he carried travel documents and departed westward. Going back another eleven years, in the twenty-fifth year of Dachong, in the seventh month of that year, Luoyang’s Cibei Temple gained a child monk with the dharma name Wu Sheng. What I can investigate about your good friend’s life ends there.”

When he said “good friend,” his tone was slightly heavy, seeming to contain mockery.

“This Wu Sheng—before age six, what was his surname and name, where did he come from, who were his family members? Not a single clue can be found. He’s like someone who emerged from underground. A person who could be accepted as Dongfa’s final disciple, yet has no traces of his past. Si Si, do you think that’s possible?”

“The only possibility is that his past was deliberately concealed back then.”

Jiang Hanyuan stared blankly at him speaking, thinking in her heart about when he had set his sights on Wu Sheng, investigating his past so thoroughly and clearly while she remained completely unaware.

“You should know what happened that year,” he continued. “The Jin capital was breached, and the last Jin dynasty was destroyed. At that time, the city erupted in chaos and fire, with great flames burning for days and nights. Among the direct line of the Huangfu clan, those confirmed to have escaped were only Crown Prince Huang Fuxiong, who was not in the Jin capital at the time, and a group of remnants who fled north to seek refuge with the Di people. As far as I know, he has now died of illness. Another whose whereabouts were unknown and was ultimately considered dead was the Jin Emperor’s youngest son, named Huangfu Zhi, then six years old. It’s said he was born with extraordinary bones, and fortune-tellers declared he bore the features of a sage. At that time, the Jin dynasty was already in decline like the setting sun, so his birth was seen as an omen of Jin dynasty revival and was proclaimed throughout the nation. On the day Luoyang was breached, the Jin Emperor gave him the imperial seal and ordered people to take him away. With nowhere else to turn, he was carried by someone and threw himself into water to die, after which there were no further traces—”

“If my suspicions are correct, the current Wu Sheng is that Jin prince who threw himself into the water that day!”

“Si Si!” He called her name, staring at her. “Tell me, how should I deal with him?”

Jiang Hanyuan was already shocked speechless by his words.

She collected herself for a long time, her gaze sweeping over his hanging hand where blood seeped through white silk, and suddenly came back to her senses: “You suspect his identity, so you treat him this way?”

He snorted coldly. “Even if he weren’t a Jin prince but just a monk, I absolutely could not tolerate him remaining in Yunluo to damage your reputation, let alone with this possible identity. That group of remnants who followed Huang Fuxiong in fleeing to the Beidi people are still around today, laughably overestimating themselves, vainly trying to make deals with tigers, dreaming of using the Di people to restore their dynasty. They’re nothing more than a bunch of jumping clowns, not worth mentioning, but since it involves the Di people and the nation is preparing for war, how could I ignore it?”

“Si Si, I tell you, regardless of whether he’s truly devoted to Buddhism, his identity itself is a crime. That I didn’t directly take his life but only sent him away under guard is already showing him extraordinary mercy for your sake!”

Jiang Hanyuan was silent for a long time, then slowly said, “Wu Sheng is a person beyond this world. I trust him.”

She raised her eyes to look at the person across from her.

“But national affairs take precedence.”

“If he truly is the Huangfu Zhi you speak of, Your Highness may dispose of him according to your own will. Even if he has done nothing, carrying jade invites crime—if you kill him, I cannot say a word against it, nor can I stop you. I apologize to you for my earlier ignorance and rudeness. But—”

Jiang Hanyuan gazed at the man across from her and asked softly: “Why didn’t you explain this clearly to me just now?”

He said nothing.

“Were you testing me? You wanted to see how I would react?” she asked again.

His eyebrows were crow-black, his gaze falling on her face, his expression as dark and brooding as this night of raging wind and rain.

“Don’t you know at all how the entire city of Yunluo views you and that monk?” he coldly asked in return.

“Regarding this matter, I originally wanted to preserve dignity for both of us, not bring it up to discuss and avoid causing you unnecessary anger. I would handle the matter myself and let it end there—”

He paused, and when he spoke again, his tone was almost through gritted teeth: “And you! You say you had no improper relations with him—I believe you. But what importance does he hold for you exactly? What have I done wrong toward you? I’ve tried in every way to please you, compromising and accommodating, yet you remain unmoved. Tonight, for the sake of a so-called friend, proud as you are, you would even humble yourself and be so resolute against me to such an extent—it truly exceeded my expectations and opened my eyes—”

His breathing was somewhat unsteady, his words stopping abruptly, his expression extremely rigid. That injured hand wrapped haphazardly in white silk was already soaked with seeping blood. Blood gathered again and slowly dripped from between his fingers to the ground. He stood motionless as if unaware.

Lightning continued without cease. Another muffled thunder rolled from the rear mountain, as if exploding directly overhead.

Tonight, outside this temporary palace, it seemed as if all the rain of Jiangnan’s lifetime would be poured out.

She looked at him, just kept looking, her pale complexion reflecting the lightning flashing outside the window with a ghastly blue pallor.

“Have you lost your voice? Have you nothing else to say?”

Accompanied by the thunder that followed the lightning outside the window, he suddenly shouted harshly.

She only kept her lips closed, saying nothing.

Shu Shenhui spoke no more either. He stood there, arms hanging down, letting blood slowly drip along his fingers, pooling into a crimson stain on the ground beside his feet.

After an unknown amount of time, another startling thunder sounded outside the window. He stared at the person before him, and after the thunder passed, spoke again, slowly uttering eight words: “Blind and obstinate, not knowing good from bad!”

His rigid shoulders also moved slightly.

“The things my mother gave you—if you don’t want them, it’s not convenient for me to return them to her either. Just throw them away!”

“Let it be so.”

“You may return to Yanmen.”

After saying this final sentence, he clenched his injured palm, his expression turning cold and indifferent. Without looking at her again, he stepped forward and walked past her.

He strode out of the hall and departed through the door. The door was left unclosed, wild wind rushed in, causing the door to continuously bang against the frame with loud, heart-stopping crashes. Curtains whirled wildly through the air, and the path he had walked left a trail of dripping blood. The candles in the hall were suddenly extinguished by the wind. Jiang Hanyuan’s vision plunged into complete darkness—she could see nothing.

He left just like that, without looking back.

At dawn, the wind and rain ceased, the sky was washed clean, and the morning sun blazed like fire, illuminating the lake and mountain scenery. It was another beautiful day. If not for the broken branches and fallen leaves scattered throughout the courtyard that hadn’t yet been swept away, and the lake water at the mountain’s foot that had suddenly risen nearly to overflow the embankments, no one could imagine that last night had experienced such a tumultuous night of wind and rain.

Fan Jing had spent the night in the courtyard with a jujube tree at its entrance in Xie Family Alley, hearing neither thunder nor lightning. Early in the morning, he was summoned by someone Liu Xiang had sent, and hurriedly returned to learn that the Regent Prince had already departed for Jiangdu, Yangzhou, saying urgent matters required him to leave early. Liu Xiang temporarily remained at the temporary palace to see off the Princess Consort.

Fan Jing felt extremely ashamed and repeatedly apologized, saying he had delayed the Prince’s schedule.

“General Liu, you should also hurry to catch up. I’ll handle the Princess Consort’s affairs here. We’ll set out today after packing up.”

Liu Xiang laughed it off as a matter. After transferring matters to Fan Jing, he turned to glance toward the temporary palace.

Last night, after encountering the Regent Prince who had come searching in that corridor corner, and after the Princess Consort was led away by him, Liu Xiang knew things would turn out badly.

One was the master he must serve loyally, the other was the daughter of a former master to whom he owed old debts of gratitude. How could he dare leave afterward? He waited secretly nearby. Listening to the sounds of wind, rain, thunder, and lightning from heaven, his heart only hoped the two would be safe, so he could be at peace. As expected, heaven never grants human wishes. The Regent Prince later emerged alone from the bedchamber with great strides. Though his face was like stone, Liu Xiang sensed the suppressed anger emanating from him. Not only that, one of his hands was somehow injured and bleeding continuously. Later, he went to the library, and before dawn, without waiting for the wind and rain to stop, he departed for Jiangdu.

After Dowager Consort Zhuang left a few days ago, the two had suddenly decided not to leave and spent several days and nights behind closed doors in the temporary palace. Liu Xiang, being a married man, naturally understood the reason.

Newlyweds reluctant to part after a brief separation was human nature. He had secretly felt happy for them both, but unexpected complications arose.

Though he still couldn’t completely understand why the Regent Prince and the young lady had quarreled over that Wu Sheng, or why the Regent Prince had lost composure to such an extent, he guessed it must be related to matters of love and affection.

He had always been puzzled by and unable to understand such affairs between infatuated men and resentful women. But seeing this situation, the two must be beyond reconciliation. He blamed himself extremely, feeling it was his fault, his mistake last night.

Liu Xiang entered the temporary palace to await taking leave of the Princess Consort. After a short while, he heard footsteps. Looking up, he saw her appear and walk out.

She was already dressed for travel, hair bound and wearing men’s clothing, looking crisp and efficient. Her lips bore a slight smile, and aside from her complexion appearing somewhat pale, she looked no different from usual.

Seeing that her side differed from the Regent Prince’s, appearing as if nothing had happened, Liu Xiang finally felt somewhat better in his heart. He said, “After the young lady returns, please take good care of yourself. Please give this humble officer’s regards to the Great General—”

He paused, looked at her again, but ultimately said nothing more, only respectfully bowed to her and withdrew.

Zhang Bao was also to accompany Liu Xiang and came to bid her farewell, with a mournful expression: “Though this slave is incomplete in body, I still have a man’s heart. If the Princess Consort doesn’t disdain this slave’s uselessness, please take me along too. I cannot fight battles, but at least I can serve people. When the Princess Consort returns from killing enemies, I can pour tea, bring water, and warm bedding.”

Jiang Hanyuan laughed: “I have no use for you there. Serving His Highness well is the same. Go on.”

Zhang Bao had no choice but to kowtow several times to her on the ground, wiping his eyes and looking back with every three steps, reluctantly departing.

Jiang Hanyuan stood on the palace steps, watching Liu Xiang, Zhang Bao, and others descend the mountain until their figures gradually disappeared, then turned back inside.

Today’s departure, like that day’s decision to stay, came extremely suddenly, catching Fan Jing off guard. But such situations were commonplace in military camps. He quickly finished preparations, with men and horses ready to depart, and sent someone to fetch the Princess Consort.

When the palace servant brought word, Jiang Hanyuan was sitting alone beside the south window of Jianqun Pavilion.

Her travel gear had long been packed and taken out. Only one last item remained. She looked at it for a long time.

“Your Highness Princess Consort, General Fan says we may depart.”

Outside the door, the palace servant waited a moment, thinking she hadn’t heard, and raised his voice slightly to report again.

Jiang Hanyuan came back to her senses and stood up.

She walked out, and Fan Jing came to meet her. Thinking of how he had again failed his duty last night, he felt ashamed and uneasy again, once more apologizing to Jiang Hanyuan. Jiang Hanyuan smiled: “His Highness’s urgent matters came suddenly—it has nothing to do with Uncle Fan. Let’s go.” Saying this, she stepped out of the palace. The group descended the mountain steps. Jiang Hanyuan took her mount from a soldier, mounted, and was about to spur the horse forward when she saw by the roadside at the lakeside a small blue-covered mule cart typically used by local modest housewives, with a young servant driving. They were stopped by the temporary palace guards and couldn’t enter, so they waited there. The servant looked around eagerly, and suddenly, seeing this group emerge, his eyes lit up. He waved and shouted, “Master Fan! My young mistress has come to see you off!”

Jiang Hanyuan heard this but at first didn’t realize who this “Master Fan” the servant spoke of was. Following the servant’s pointing gesture, she looked and saw it was Fan Jing.

He had only been here a few days—where would he have met a woman to develop such familiarity?

She couldn’t help but wonder, looking at Fan Jing.

Fan Jing had gone out yesterday, initially walking alone along the lake, feeling rather at loose ends. It was inconvenient to return to the temporary palace, so naturally, he thought of the woman who had given him her address a few days ago. At the time, he had left hastily and still hadn’t sent her money and silk, which seemed improper. Having nothing else to do, he prepared some and went to knock on her door, giving it to the adoptive mother who answered. Red Leaf’s adoptive mother was delighted to see him come and enthusiastically invited him inside.

Naturally, there were similar establishments in Yanmen City. Though military discipline was strict, during peacetime, they were given one day of leave each month. On such days, soldiers who had been confined for a month inevitably entered the city and visited such places with money. But he had always been self-disciplined—aside from escorting the young lady, in his spare time, he handled military affairs and had never set foot in such places. That night, he was too drunk to know what happened, but how could he enter now? So he politely declined and left. After wandering by the lake again for a while, feeling hungry and wanting to find a place to sit and warm some wine until dark so he could return, suddenly a small boat drifted over the water. Sitting in the boat was none other than the woman named Red Leaf, smiling sweetly and inviting him aboard.

That night, he was drunk and truly couldn’t remember how things had transpired. But last night was completely different. Outside the window, wind and rain raged; inside the room was warmth and soft jade. She was extremely gentle and lovely—a feeling he had never experienced in half a lifetime. Being forced to leave so hurriedly this morning, naturally, he felt some regret and reluctance, but that was all it could be—just a pleasant encounter like morning dew.

He never expected she would come to see him off.

Fan Jing met the gaze the young lady cast upon him, his face immediately reddening. Fortunately, his full beard concealed his embarrassment from others. He knew the woman should be in the cart and wanted to go, but couldn’t bring himself to ask. Just as he stood there tongue-tied, not knowing how to explain to the young lady, Jiang Hanyuan saw the mule cart’s window open halfway, revealing the pretty face of a young woman inside. The woman’s eyes were full of tender affection as she gazed at Uncle Fan beside her.

She suddenly understood. Remembering what Shu Shenhui had said to her yesterday after Zhang Bao reported Fan Jing’s departure. At the time she hadn’t understood, finding it nonsensical. Now she understood everything.

She immediately smiled and said quietly, “Uncle Fan, go quickly! Don’t let her come for nothing. I’ll wait for you up ahead.”

Fan Jing stopped hesitating, dismounted, and quickly walked over.

Jiang Hanyuan rode forward for a stretch, then looked back at the place where she had stayed for several days.

The Jiangnan summer trees were lush and verdant, and it stood among them, erected on the mountainside. Her gaze swept across it, and in the distance, she saw Uncle Fan and that woman standing by the lakeside at the mountain’s foot. The woman seemed to hand him a food basket and spoke quietly to him. She didn’t know what was said, but perhaps because others were nearby, Uncle Fan still looked reserved. Yet his gaze falling on that woman’s face was very gentle, completely different from the mighty and stern big-bearded Uncle Fan she usually knew in the military.

Jiang Hanyuan truly felt happy for Uncle Fan.

Military life was indeed one of golden spears and iron horses, swallowing rivers and mountains, with men aspiring to mend the cracks in heaven. But behind that achievement and fame lay mostly years of loneliness and bitter cold. If war came, one must always be prepared for death wrapped in horsehide.

Though they were parting today, when he returned to Yanmen, in the future, if he too found himself sleepless in the deep night listening to the horns throughout the camp, recalling today’s joy should leave no loneliness in his heart.

The corners of her lips turned up slightly as she watched. Suddenly, her face felt damp and cold. Only then did she realize a tear had rolled from her eye.

She saw the woman tuck a handkerchief into Uncle Fan’s sleeve, then lower her head and quickly board the mule cart. Uncle Fan watched the small cart slowly depart, then turned to walk back toward them.

Jiang Hanyuan immediately turned her face away, raised her arm to quickly wipe the tear traces from her face, then gathered her reins and pressed her legs against the horse’s flanks.

She no longer looked back, spurring her horse forward into the wind and galloping away swiftly.

Leaving the borderlands for Chang’an, then to Jiangnan—altogether it was only about half a year, but to her it felt as long as half a lifetime. She now only wanted to return home quickly. Seeing her eager to return, Fan Jing naturally had his people cooperate fully. The group traveled north, traveling under stars and moon, hurrying day and night. When night fell, if they encountered post stations, they stayed there; if not, they slept in the open beside the road. Thus, in mid-July of that year, they returned to Yanmen.

That day, it was already evening. Her father was in the Protectorate office in Yanmen city. She didn’t immediately enter the city to see him, but spoke to Fan Jing and rode alone, taking a detour to arrive before Iron Sword Cliff.

The evening glow filled the sky. The black cliff stood quietly in its old place—everything was as before. She climbed to the cliff top, stood facing the wind for a moment, then suddenly leaped down, sinking to the bottom of the pool.

Finally, she slowly surfaced, deeply breathing the familiar air with her lungs, and opened her wet eyes glistening with water.

She had once sworn she would never cry again.

She would not forget the vows she had made.

The tears she had shed that day in Jiangnan were not tears of weeping.

Everything had returned to its proper course.

On this northward journey, she had accumulated dust all over her body from traveling. She washed away the dust in the water, climbed ashore, put on the dry clothes she had removed earlier, and walked toward her mount while wringing water from her long hair.

“General—” At that moment, she heard someone calling loudly.

She turned her head and saw someone riding toward them in the distance.

It was Yang Hu.

She stopped.

Last month, when Fan Jing set out south to fetch General Changning, Yang Hu had been restless. A few days ago, he had found an excuse to come here from Qingmu Camp specifically to welcome her return.

Yang Hu was accustomed to the General often bathing here or leaping from the cliff, thinking it was her preference. Seeing her, he dismounted and ran wildly toward her. Approaching closely and seeing she seemed to have just emerged from the water and was wringing out wet hair, he hastily stopped and awkwardly turned his face aside, staring elsewhere while calling out urgently: “General! We just received intelligence that the Baishui tribe chief has gained the Di people’s assistance and started a rebellion. The Great He King sent word to the Great General. The Great General wants you to return immediately!”