The Empress had been missing for six years now.

It happened in the winter of the fourth year of Jianning.

During the winter sacrifice, the Empress didn’t appear. At the time, court officials were puzzled but assumed the Empress might be unwell.

It wasn’t until the New Year’s banquet, when the Empress still didn’t appear, that court officials realized something was wrong. On the spot, more than a dozen officials stood up to ask the Emperor: where was the Empress?

Some women even covered their heads and tried to rush into the inner palace.

The banquet fell into chaos, and the Imperial Guard had to come out to maintain order.

The Emperor could only explain to everyone that the Empress had gone out on important business.

The stern-faced, intimidating Commander Ding of the Imperial Guard also confirmed that the Empress had left the capital. Additionally, the Empress’s cousin, Princess Huimin, and Hanlin Academy Editor Chu Tang, apologized on the Empress’s behalf, saying that the matter was urgent and they had to keep it secret from everyone.

The Empress going out wasn’t unusual; previously, she had often gone out to battle.

Hmm, but no one had heard about fighting breaking out anywhere.

Although there were conflicts between local officials and noble families in some places, reportedly quite serious, once armed officials surrounded them, things settled down in a few days.

Perhaps the Empress needed to go out to pacify the situation.

If only the Emperor had spoken, everyone would have remained doubtful, but with the Imperial Guard and Chu Tang confirming it, people breathed a sigh of relief—compared to the Emperor, they trusted these two more.

The Empress left and never returned, as if she had disappeared.

But no one pressed the Emperor for answers any further because they saw that the Imperial Guard continued to function normally, and Chu Tang had been reassigned to the Censorate.

And the Emperor, who had turned twenty, still hadn’t added any new concubines to the inner palace.

Whether the Empress was there or not made no difference, so why bring it up? They pretended the Empress was still there, and would continue to do so.

When Ding Dachui walked out of the palace, he saw Zhu Yong and Chu Tang approaching.

Neither of them looked particularly happy.

Zhu Yong came from the Hanlin Academy. Although he wore the intimidating python-patterned robe of the Imperial Guard, even when interrogating prisoners in jail, his expression remained gentle.

Chu Tang needed no introduction—a lovely young woman. Although she had been transferred to the Censorate, she relied on her writing skills to report rumors and impeach officials. No matter how harshly she criticized others with her brush, her face always remained gentle and pleasant.

What had happened to make these two usually smiling tigers stop smiling?

“Lord Ding,” both of them saw Ding Dachui and bowed in greeting.

These two were the Empress’s confidants. Ding Dachui’s expression softened a bit as he asked, “What are you doing?”

Zhu Yong said, “Chu Tang is abusing her power for personal gain. I’ve asked her to write an impeachment memorial against me first.”

Chu Tang coldly laughed beside him: “Lord Zhu is holding others’ secrets, waiting to sell them at a high price. I’m asking him to go negotiate a price with His Majesty.”

Scholars always spoke in complicated ways. Ding Dachui frowned and asked, “Have the provincial and prefectural women’s examinations been blocked again this year?”

Zhu Yong said, “Haste makes waste. We need to persuade people with reason, not by killing everyone who blocks the way.”

Chu Tang said, “Once the bow is drawn, there is no turning back. First efforts bring success, but enthusiasm wanes with the second attempt and is exhausted by the third.”

Ding Dachui didn’t want to hear any more. He waved his hand: “Go on, go see His Majesty.”

The two bowed courteously to him before continuing inward.

Watching the two walk side by side, officials coming and going through the palace gates cast glances their way. Although six years had passed, seeing women wearing official robes walking among men still made people look twice…

“Chu Tang and Lord Zhu’s expressions certainly match each other.”

“A golden boy and jade girl? Haha.”

Someone couldn’t help but laugh teasingly, but the next moment a cold gaze fell upon them, and that official couldn’t help but shiver, his voice abruptly stopping.

At the palace gate, a python-patterned robe gleamed brightly as Ding Dachui stared at them coldly.

“When this official sees men and women together, he thinks of golden boys and jade girls. Perhaps you’d like to visit our Imperial Guard prison, where there are also men and women—it might make you very happy,” he said.

The official nearly suffocated, squeezing out a smile: “Not at all, not at all. I was thinking of my son and daughter. Thanks to Lord Ding’s blessing, I recently had another son and daughter.”

He spoke incoherently, and the officials beside him wanted to laugh but didn’t dare. Fortunately, Ding Dachui said nothing more and walked away.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“That scared me to death,” the official wiped his sweat.

“You really should know better. You can make jokes at home where your family won’t dare say anything, but be more careful in court,” the others complained. “We all hold official positions—they’re not to be trifled with.”

The official lamented: “I just…” just felt uncomfortable seeing men and women walking together. Apart from accompanying their husbands, women rarely appeared in public.

Ah, times have changed. Let it go, let it go. If he really ended up in the Imperial Guard prison, his property and life would be forfeit.

“I understand. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

……

……

On the bustling streets, a team of officials rushed past carrying bundles and raising flags.

“They’re announcing next year’s imperial examinations,” the capital residents immediately recognized. “How quickly time passes—another three years gone by.”

In a tavern by the street, Qi Leyun was looking out the window at these officials, nearly leaning her body out. A little girl and a little boy carefully held onto her legs.

“Mother, be careful,” they said.

The door was pushed open, and several women walked in. Seeing this scene, someone couldn’t help but laugh.

“Qi Leyun, it’s just failing to pass the imperial examination—don’t do anything foolish,” she joked.

Qi Leyun pulled back from the window, glared at her, and anxiously asked: “How did it go? Did Chu Tang succeed?”

Several women sat down in the room and leisurely poured tea. After Qi Leyun snatched the teapot, they finally smiled and said: “She did.”

One pointed outside.

“This time, the announcement states that provincial, prefectural, and county examinations will all allow women to participate. It won’t be just one examination in the capital anymore.”

Qi Leyun clasped her hands together and uttered “Thank Buddha, we’ve finally made it through.”

Women’s examinations had been held only once, with everyone traveling to the capital. Without exceptional talent, it was impossible to succeed.

“Qi Leyun, you’re already a mother. Do you still want to take the examination?” one woman laughed, reaching out to pull Qi Leyun’s two children close and giving each a sachet. “Here, auntie has something for you to play with.”

The two children bowed respectfully and sat down quietly nearby.

“I won’t take it anymore, but my younger sister-in-law will,” Qi Leyun said, her eyes dancing with excitement. “I’ve already made plans. She’ll attend the Imperial Academy in the capital, and then we’ll return to our hometown for the examination. By then—”

Even the most talented women in their hometown couldn’t compare to someone educated at the Imperial Academy in the capital. She would certainly pass with high honors. Even if she couldn’t be the top scholar, as long as she was selected, like men, she would have an official degree. With an official degree, she could be employed by the government as an official or clerk.

Qi Leyun laughed triumphantly.

“No matter what, our family will produce a female official!”

The women shook their heads helplessly: “You’re already a mother, yet you’re still so cunning.” “Don’t be so smug. Many people have the same idea, but without real ability, it’s still difficult.”

As officials rushed to spread the news, information about the new imperial examinations spread throughout Da Xia. By now, matters concerning women’s examinations were common knowledge.

In the remote Yunzhong Prefecture, next year’s examination became the hottest topic.

Although remote, Yunzhong Prefecture was rich in resources. With no wars in recent years, the cities had become prosperous.

Taverns and teahouses filled the city, while the main roads outside were busy with carriages and horses.

At this moment, beneath a large locust tree outside the city gates, passing peddlers and porters who had stopped to rest were also discussing the women’s examinations.

“This time, women will participate in provincial, prefectural, and county examinations too, not just in the capital.”

“Just like men, competing on the same stage.”

“I still think this is nonsense. What can women do?”

“That’s not right. Have you heard of Madam Zeng? She passed the examination with real skills and applied her knowledge. Now she’s managing water control in the Ministry of Works.”

“I know! Isn’t she the Female River God?”

“The Female River God? I know her too! My hometown used to flood every three years. Madam Zeng spent three years working, and this year, there were no floods at all!”

“Is she really that impressive?”

“Truly. My hometown is already building a shrine to her while she’s still alive. Everyone is competing to donate money. I wrote to my mother saying our family should donate too.”

As they were speaking, half a pear fell from the tree with a plop, accompanied by a child’s cry of “My pear—”

The traveler who was hit on the head looked up and exclaimed, “Whose child is climbing so high!”

Everyone beneath the tree looked up to see a delicately beautiful little girl of four or five in the thick, leafy old locust tree.

Her short little arms could barely wrap around the tree trunk, and she looked unsteady.

The people below all cried out in alarm, fearing the child would fall.

As people called out, the little girl also wobbled and cried out, seeming as if she might fall at any moment.

The tree was not easy to climb. Several travelers tried but failed to reach her.

The onlookers cried out in alarm while holding out their hands, ready to catch the child, all while wondering:

How did this child climb up there in the first place?

Amid the chaos, another group of riders galloped up the main road. They stopped nearby, raising a cloud of dust, from which came a clear shout.

“Chu Qiqi!”

At this call, the child in the tree stopped her cries. In everyone’s sight, she grinned, pushed off with her short legs, and flew outward.

“Ah—” the travelers below cried out in alarm.

But amid their cries, the child flew steadily toward the roadside, landing in an arm extended from the dust cloud.

The travelers’ gazes followed, and as the dust settled, they saw a tall, thin man in black robes with a black scarf wrapped around his head and face, revealing only a pair of eyes that shone like stars, making it impossible to look away.

His arm held the little girl as his eyebrows raised sternly: “You again—”

Before he could finish, the little girl threw herself against his face and called out softly: “Father—Qiqi missed you so much—”

The stern eyebrows immediately melted like ice and snow, transformed into twinkling smiles.

“Father missed you too,” he smiled, holding the girl with one arm in front of him and spurring his horse forward. “Let’s go home.”

The horse galloped away, accompanied by the little girl’s laughter, as the group rode on.

The people by the roadside finally came to their senses and noticed the weapons these riders carried and their undisguised ferocity.

In today’s peaceful era, there were no more foreign invasions or bandits—well, there seemed to be some bandits. When traveling through forests, they had encountered some, but those bandits didn’t seem interested in them. Either they ignored them or even tried to sell them the game.

Perhaps they had been mistaken; though they looked fierce, they might just be hunters.

So what was this group?

Although it was a peaceful era, government troops were stricter. Carrying heavy bows and swords privately would invite questioning.

Looking at the direction these people were heading, toward the prefectural city, they were openly entering the city.

“I know,” one traveler suddenly said. “They’re from Luomu City.”

The travelers were from other regions and weren’t familiar with the cities and counties of Yunzhong Prefecture. They looked confused—what was special about Luomu City? Were its people allowed to do as they pleased?

“Luomu City doesn’t belong to Yunzhong Prefecture,” the traveler explained. “It was originally Western Liang territory. Ten years ago, Western Liang was defeated, and their king fled with his people. Their original territory was occupied and called Luomu City.”

“So these people are soldiers of our Da Xia?” someone asked, understanding.

But the traveler shook his head again: “They’re not soldiers either, but they serve as a barrier, protecting Da Xia over there.”

Everyone finally understood. So that’s why they were allowed to carry weapons. Though not official soldiers, they were considered Da Xia’s guardians.

Unfortunately, they hadn’t looked carefully to see these heroes. Looking back at the main road, the group had already disappeared.

……

……

These so-called heroes, however, weren’t discussing heroic matters.

Under the watchful eyes of the city gate guards, they entered the city directly, their conversation centered around the little girl being held.

“Is this the how-many-th time she’s run away from home? Counting from when she could walk.”

“Have you all forgotten? Even before Qiqi could walk, she could crawl away from home.”

Laughter occasionally rang out from the group, mixed with the little girl’s protests.

“It wasn’t running away from home. I was pursuing my studies,” the little girl said earnestly, clinging to the man’s neck and explaining to the uncles around her. “I’m going to be a River God in the future.”

One man laughed heartily: “You’ve just heard a new term, haven’t you?”

“Yes, didn’t you say you wanted to be a peddler last time?” another man said.

The little girl wanted to argue, but the man held her in front of him and raised his eyebrows: “Tell me, what trouble have you caused this time?”

The little girl grinned at him, seemingly about to say something.

“Don’t try to sweet-talk me. Your tricks aren’t nearly as good as your mother’s,” the man tapped her forehead.

The little girl covered her head obediently and said: “I planted Gou Wa and the others in the soil. They said they wanted to see if they could grow taller.”

The man laughed, tapping her forehead again: “You must have been the one who persuaded them.”

The men around also laughed: “So Qiqi got into trouble, your mother was going to spank you, and you ran away?” “Why didn’t you go to your grandmother?”

The little girl sighed: “Don’t even mention it. Grandmother is more afraid of my mother than I am—she runs faster than me.”

The men laughed again.

Only a one-armed man snorted: “Mu Mian Hong is so unreliable.”

The others avoided eye contact and said nothing. The little girl’s eyes immediately brightened, and she reached out to the one-armed man, sweetly calling: “Grandpa Zhong, hold me—”

The one-armed man’s face bloomed with a smile as he extended his hand to the little girl: “Good Qiqi.”

“Qiqi misses Grandpa Zhong very much,” the little girl said. “When we get back, will you help Qiqi tell mother—”

Before she could finish, her outstretched hand quickly retracted.

The one-armed man touched his nose, coughing twice: “I caught a cold on this trip. It’s best if I avoid people for a few days to recover.”

The little girl angrily waved her little fists: “Grandpa Zhong, you’re unreliable too!”

The men laughed again.

“Enough,” the man held the little girl securely and said, “Stop trying to be clever. Be good and go back to accept your punishment.”

The little girl hung her head and sighed dejectedly when suddenly, from the street ahead, came a commotion.

“Fire—”

“Fire—”

The man’s eyes darkened as he looked ahead, seeing thick smoke rising not far away.

“Go,” he spurred his horse forward.

……

……

The fire raged fiercely. Countless people rushed to throw water on it, bedraggled residents were helped out, and cries and shouts filled the air.

“My child—”

“My child is still inside—”

A woman was carried out on someone’s back, crying out desperately. The man carrying her heard her, handed her to others who came to help, and without looking back, rushed back into the fire.

“Dangerous—”

“Don’t go back in—”

Amid the shouts behind him, the man had already plunged into the thick smoke.

The fire drove people back step by step. More people arrived, and officials came too, quickly clearing the surroundings to prevent the fire from spreading.

“My child, my child—” the woman stumbled, trying to rush toward the fire, but was firmly held back by the crowd.

Besides her, several soot-covered men also anxiously looked toward the fire.

“It’s over.”

“They certainly can’t survive.”

Someone also mumbled, “I wish we hadn’t passed by here.”

Amid the chaos came a shout: “They’re coming out—”

With the shout, a fireball rolled out from the fire. Officials immediately rushed up with water, cloths, and slapping hands. The fireball was wrapped in a layer of bedding, and when it was uncovered, the first sound was a baby’s loud wailing.

The crying wasn’t particularly loud in the midst of the fire, but it made everyone breathe a sigh of relief.

The woman rushed over to hold her child, then looked at the person before her—

His face was blackened by smoke, his hair and clothes were badly burned, exposed areas showed grotesque blisters, and he had only one arm.

“Benefactor—” the woman knelt with her baby, weeping and kowtowing.

The one-armed man, who hadn’t backed down in the face of the fire, now anxiously retreated, his voice hoarse: “No need, no need.”

An official then said, “Come quickly for treatment.”

The one-armed man avoided them again: “No need, no need.” With that, he lowered his head and walked away.

Other men hurriedly followed. Officials and residents watched as they went to a place, picked up baskets containing huge stones.

So they were laborers.

Everyone suddenly understood. Laborers were usually convicts, people one wouldn’t normally deign to notice.

But at this moment, no one looked away. They watched as the man slowly rose, the heavy stone making his form stoop.

“He has one arm like Grandpa Zhong,” a little girl’s voice came from nearby. “How brave—”

Perhaps it was the words “one arm,” but the rising man froze momentarily, instinctively looking toward the voice to see a man holding a little girl.

His face was blackened by smoke, but despite this, his shock was still visible.

Then his gaze met that of the man.

After a silent moment, he withdrew his gaze, shouldered his basket, and slowly left with his companions.

“Father,” the little girl turned the man’s face with her hands. “Do you know him?”

The man withdrew his gaze and said: “No, I don’t.”

The little girl pouted, “You’re lying.” But her eyes darted around, and she moved closer to the man’s face, coaxingly saying, “But father is still the bravest.”

The man smiled and lifted her away from his face: “Even the bravest father won’t help you plead with your mother.”

The little girl immediately looked dejected. As father and daughter were talking and laughing, an officer approached.

“Nine—” he hesitated, then respectfully said, “Master Nine, the fire has been contained.”

The man put away his smile and looked toward the fire, his gaze somewhat distant: “Investigate the cause of the fire.”

The cause of the fire? This area was crowded with mixed housing and chaotic cooking fires. Fires were inevitable—what was there to investigate? Despite his confusion, the officer immediately responded affirmatively.

“Master Nine,” he said, his expression somewhat excited, “Since you’re here, would you like to visit the camp?”

The man glanced at him, smiled, and shook his head: “I need to go home.”

The men who had been helping put out the fire with the officials also returned, unconcerned about the soot on their faces and bodies. They mounted their horses and galloped away with the man.

……

……

They passed city after city, crossed ravine after ravine, galloped across the rolling grasslands, weaved through herds of cattle and sheep, until a city appeared in their sight.

Seeing them from afar, colorful flags waved from the city, and deep horns sounded.

The men responded to the homecoming call with strange cries. At the same time, children playing outside the city rushed over.

“Qiqi—”

“Qiqi’s back—”

“Qiqi was even more impressive this time, taking so many days before being caught—”

“Qiqi, do you have any fun stories to tell us—”

Seeing the large and small groups of children, the man smiled and swung the little girl down. She landed steadily and was engulfed by the children.

“Don’t rush, let me tell you slowly—” her childish voice rang out.

The man paid no more attention, spurring his horse toward the city.

The person he wanted to see wasn’t at home, so he turned his horse toward another direction outside the city.

Here stood rows of tombstones. At a large tomb, a woman sat alone.

“What are you doing?” the man called out.

The solitary woman turned her head, immediately putting down her papers and brush, and rushed toward him with open arms.

The man lifted her with a gentle raise, bringing them eye to eye.

The border region’s wind and sand had left no traces of wear on the woman’s face. She still looked like A-Fu by the riverside many years ago.

Chu Zhao spat: “When I was A-Fu, I deliberately concealed my appearance. Are you saying I’ve become ugly?”

She pulled down the man’s scarf, revealing his handsome face.

Xie Yanlai laughed heartily: “Back then, I was focused on killing a little thief. How could I pay attention to what you looked like?”

“The little thief was beautiful as a flower,” Chu Zhao said with a grin, pecking his lips.

But her response was an almost suffocating deep kiss.

“Father is watching!” Chu Zhao lightly pounded his shoulder before being released.

Xie Yanlai looked at the tombstone and asked: “Why did you come to see Father?”

Chu Zhao said: “Because that mischievous devil Qiqi makes Xiao Man quarrel with me every day, accusing me of not knowing how to raise children. I came out to find some peace.” She pressed her forehead with her hand. “It’s headache-inducing. How can she be so mischievous? She’s nothing like me.”

Xie Yanlai smiled ambiguously: “Is that so? The first time I met Qiqi’s mother, she had beaten someone, stolen money, and even tricked a group of people into helping her escape quite far.”

Chu Zhao laughed heartily.

Xie Yanlai looked down and saw several papers in front of the tombstone with writing and drawings, portraits of women.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Letters from A-Yu,” Chu Zhao said. “He’s complaining that Deng Yi doesn’t listen, standing stiff-necked in court, causing him trouble, or dragging a coffin around to investigate tax money. Relying on the fact that he’s a ‘dead man,’ he disturbs the living.”

“Why tell you? Does he want you to beat Deng Yi?” Xie Yanlai said. “He’s so grown up now—let him do his beating.”

Chu Zhao laughed heartily.

“And this?” Xie Yanlai asked again, pointing at the portraits.

“This?” Chu Zhao’s eyes danced with excitement as she beckoned him to look. “A-Yu should get married now. These are portraits of selected women. He’s asked us to help choose. Take a look too.”

Xie Yanlai didn’t even look. That boy wasn’t asking him to choose—no need to specifically add that “us” character.

He coldly laughed: “What business is it of yours to choose his wife!”

Chu Zhao smiled: “I’d be his wife’s aunt-in-law, and an aunt-in-law is also like a mother.” Looking at the portraits, she said with a benevolent expression, “They’re all good, all in the prime of youth, beautiful as flowers.”

“An Emperor never lacks for beautiful women.” Xie Yanlai pulled the portraits away and put them down. “What’s the point of looking at appearances?”

Indeed, the Emperor needed to consider more than appearances. After all, it couldn’t be purely based on preference.

Sitting on the imperial throne wasn’t easy—so many worldly troubles. Chu Zhao felt wistful for a moment, then set these thoughts aside.

“By the way, you wrote saying that this time, further west, you met strange people?” she asked.

Xie Yanlai said: “Yes, with strange appearances, speaking strange languages. They seemed to say there were also cities and capitals there, completely different from our side.”

Chu Zhao looked curious: “How interesting. Let’s go see, shall we?”

Xie Yanlai nodded: “Sure.”

Chu Zhao continued: “Are there even stranger places further west? We should go see those too.”

Xie Yanlai nodded again: “Sure.”

Chu Zhao’s eyes sparkled as she said, “I’ve heard there are immortals on the moon in the sky. Let’s go see them too.”

Xie Yanlai smiled again and nodded: “Sure.” He held Chu Zhao’s hand. “Forget the sky—if you want to see the nine springs beneath the earth, we’ll go see those too.”

Chu Zhao spat: “Every time we talk about life, you never forget to mention death.”

Xie Yanlai embraced her and said softly, “In life, we are together. I’m afraid that in death, I won’t be able to find you.”

Chu Zhao raised her head, stood on tiptoe, and gently bit his chin.

“Don’t worry. I’ll leave you a scar, so I can find you life after life.”

(The End)