The restless hearts in the imperial city and the drunken revelry of the capital were all left behind by Xie Yanlai.
He was like a fish jumping from an exquisite pond into the vast sea. The waters ahead were boundless and unpredictable, but exhilaratingly free.
After half a month of traveling day and night, the fish leaped out of the water.
Standing on a hilltop, the wind blew scorching sand into his face and hair. Xie Yanlai spat out a mouthful of sand with a “pah,” then took a deep breath. He was home.
As the thought flashed through his mind, he smiled self-mockingly.
He considered this place home—
“We’re home!”
The dozen or so guards behind him caught up, and despite being exhausted from chasing after Xie Yanlai, they shouted excitedly at the sight of the distant fortress, with some even jumping off their horses and rolling on the ground.
From ahead came rolling dust clouds and the thunderous sound of men and horses, with cheers like roaring thunder.
“He’s back—”
“Young master is back—”
The corners of Xie Yanlai’s mouth curved slightly. He spurred his horse toward the approaching crowd, with his entourage racing behind him, stirring up billowing dust on the hillside.
The two clouds of dust soon collided, with men and horses tumbling. Many people rolled to the ground amid a mixture of shouts, calls, curses, and laughter.
Xie Yanlai didn’t know how many people he had knocked down, nor who finally knocked him down. He lay on the ground without getting up, unlike in the capital garrison, where he would stand up no matter how many times he fell—these were his brothers, he would let them win for once.
He lay on the ground. The grass and soil beneath him weren’t particularly soft, but the feeling was incomparably comfortable.
This wasn’t just sentiment. Before, it might have been sentiment or sulking, but now it was sincere. He lay there because he could control himself, his sword, and his troops. This was more reassuring than fine clothes and food, or being surrounded by flattery and adoration.
With his hand cushioning his neck, he looked at the azure sky. Now he felt a bit sorry for that girl.
No matter how cunning she was, living in such a place, she might not feel at ease.
He used to just joke about it, but after seeing her this time, he felt even more—
“What’s wrong with A-Zhao?”
Zhong Changrong’s booming voice nearly burst Xie Yanlai’s eardrums.
After another day’s journey to reach the main camp, without any rest, he was dragged to see Zhong Changrong. Sitting in a chair, Xie Yanlai inevitably drifted into his thoughts. Hearing Zhong Changrong ask about Chu Zhao, he instinctively spoke his mind.
Xie Yanlai pointed at the table: “She wrote you a letter. Read it yourself.”
Zhong Changrong didn’t look: “She definitely won’t let me worry. I don’t trust what’s written on paper. That’s why I sent you—to see her true condition.”
“She’s fierce,” Xie Yanlai rubbed his chin. Her true condition? Still the same as before. “She dared to stand up in court to contradict the Grand Tutor. I—”
He took out his new waist token and waved it.
“This Guerrilla General rank was fought for by the Empress.”
Although Xie Yanlai couldn’t be bothered to recount what happened in the capital, others had already told the story a dozen times since entering the city—how he was undefeated in the capital garrison, how he paraded naked, how the capital’s citizens welcomed him wholeheartedly, how countless women threw flowers in admiration, how he was nearly seized on the streets to be a son-in-law. But there were also resentful accounts—
“Young Master Xie’s achievements were stolen.”
“It’s not exactly stealing. It’s that Liang Qiang curried favor with the Grand Tutor.”
The guards didn’t understand the specifics of court matters, but they knew that Xie Yanlai had caused a disturbance at the Ministry of War and was imprisoned, and finally, the Empress intervened, treating both equally by appointing them both as Guerrilla Generals.
This trip to the capital had provided several exciting stories for everyone, enough to talk about for a lifetime and pass on to their children and grandchildren.
Zhong Changrong certainly wasn’t just interested in the excitement. He frowned at Xie Yanlai, muttering: “A Guerrilla General rank shouldn’t have required her intervention. Your family was too greedy, asking for Defense General, which displeased the Grand Tutor.”
Indeed, the origin of this matter was the Ministry of War’s request for Xie Yanlai’s appointment.
The request wasn’t strange, given his military achievements, status, and family background. But they should have been modest about it; they asked for too much.
Deng Yi and the Xie family were already at odds. How could he let this pass?
Xie Yanlai felt no guilt whatsoever and sneered: “What’s so grand about Defense General? I’ve been doing what a Defense General should do all along. Now it’s wartime, there aren’t so many strict rules. With my extraordinary background, my appointment as Defense General wouldn’t be strange at all. What’s strange is what irresistible benefit Liang Qiang offered the Grand Tutor to make him oppose my appointment so strongly.”
This dispute over appointments couldn’t possibly be just about the appointments themselves. Even without having been there to see it in person, Zhong Changrong could guess about the conflicts between the Xie family, the Grand Tutor, and even the Empress, as well as the chaotic court disputes. Whatever he wanted to say ended with a curse: “Even wartime doesn’t stop your scheming.”
Xie Yanlai said calmly: “It never stops, regardless of the time. It increases during wartime because the benefits of war are greater.”
Zhong Changrong naturally understood this principle and fell silent in resignation.
“The court will make new adjustments to the border armies next,” Xie Yanlai continued, raising an eyebrow with a smile. “These adjustments will certainly be intertwined with various interests.”
Zhong Changrong’s expression grew somber. He cursed and said: “Let’s hope they realize that the greatest benefit is defeating Western Liang.”
Xie Yanlai said: “They know this, because victory will bring them even greater benefits.” He stood up. “General Zhong, Fallen City is now in your hands—”
Having been appointed Guerrilla General, Xie Yanlai could independently command thirty thousand troops. Given the earlier dispute over Fallen City in the capital, he would certainly not be allowed to remain here.
For three years, this young man had been with him. Zhong Changrong felt somewhat reluctant to part—
“From now on, you’re on your own,” Xie Yanlai continued. “Without me to help you, best of luck.”
This rascal! Who was helping whom? Zhong Changrong’s reluctance vanished, and he glared: “You take care of yourself. If you don’t fix that recklessness of yours and cause big trouble, even the Xie name won’t protect you.”
Xie Yanlai snorted dismissively, ignoring him, walking a few steps before stopping.
“Also, remember that everyone has their motives,” he said, looking at Zhong Changrong. “Keep your people close and well-guarded. Remember, besides defeating Western Liang, fighting for the Empress is also in your interest. Don’t trust everyone, and don’t bare your heart and soul to just anyone.”
He paused.
“Including me.”
With that, he strode out.
Zhong Changrong spat behind him: “You little brat, who are you lecturing?” After speaking, his expression changed for a moment before settling into gravity. From Xie Yanlai’s words, he understood that going forward, he needed to be vigilant not only externally but also internally.
He sat down and opened Chu Zhao’s letter.
A guard came in and asked in a low voice: “Mu Mianhong has sent word that the ten thousand troops are ready for deployment. General, shall we integrate them into our forces?”
Of the hundred thousand troops confiscated from King Zhongshan, fifty thousand had been assigned to Mu Mianhong for training. After more than a year, the first batch was ready.
Zhong Changrong looked at the letter in his hand and suddenly shook his head: “No need.”
The guard was startled: “No need? Then when? Recently, the generals have been asking about troop replenishments. If we don’t distribute them, won’t they misunderstand?”
“Misunderstand what?” Zhong Changrong shouted sternly. “I am the commander-in-chief. All troops follow my orders.”
The guard was familiar with him and wasn’t intimidated. Instead, he smiled and said: “General Zhong, why so angry? Did Young Master Xie upset you again?”
With that, he ran off before Zhong Changrong could kick him.
…
…
The rolling mountains of Yunzhong Prefecture were shrouded in night, with occasional flickers of light in the valleys, like stars, seemingly close but impossible to find when approached.
Sitting by a campfire, Mu Mianhong threw a stick into the flames. The light flickered, illuminating her slightly surprised face beneath her veil.
“He doesn’t want them?” she asked. “Is that what Zhong Changrong said?”
The messenger nodded: “That’s what he said. He said to keep them for now.”
Someone squatting in a nearby tree snorted: “If he doesn’t want them now, we might not give them later.”
Another person calculating something with his fingers said: “Could it be that he doesn’t want to provide supplies?”
The messenger hurriedly said: “The supplies were given, without any withholding. I brought them back this time.”
What was Zhong Changrong doing? Earlier, Miss A-Zhao had given orders, and he was reluctant, fearing these troops would turn into bandits and brigands. Everyone exchanged glances.
Mu Mianhong said softly: “Probably something is happening in the capital.”
“What’s happening?” everyone asked. “Little Man hasn’t sent any news. Everything seemed fine.”
Sitting in the high imperial city, A-Zhao was just a young girl. How could everything always be fine? Even if things were good, that goodness certainly didn’t come easily. Mu Mianhong said nothing, looking past the deep night toward the direction of the capital.
…
…
Night enveloped the deep imperial city, where lights burned brightly.
Chu Zhao, surrounded by palace maids and eunuchs, arrived at the front hall, delivering memorials to Deng Yi along with a late-night snack.
“I’ve already reviewed them,” she said with a smile. “Thank you for your hard work, Grand Tutor. The promotions and transfers for the border armies are settled.”
Deng Yi looked at the memorials that had been placed down. After half a month of back-and-forth, they had finally been approved.
“Your Majesty has worked hard as well,” he said meaningfully.
Chu Zhao said: “The war with Western Liang is not only a matter for the Great Xia dynasty but also my father’s dying wish. Please understand, I cannot neglect it.”
Deng Yi nodded: “I understand.”
Chu Zhao smiled and sat down to pour tea for him.
“Then, will the Empress still not use the curtain when attending court tomorrow?” Deng Yi asked.
For the past half month, Chu Zhao had attended court without a curtain. Since it involved military transfers and deployments, she occasionally needed to speak, so no one had said anything.
But what about going forward?
Chu Zhao’s hand, holding the teapot, paused. She looked up with a smile: “I think not. The weather is getting hotter.”
Deng Yi looked at her without speaking.
Chu Zhao put down the tea and looked at Deng Yi.
“Grand Tutor,” she said, “the curtain wouldn’t stop me from speaking, so there’s no need for it.”