The late autumn sun hung high and distant, while on the ground, rising dust and galloping troops seemed endless, blocking out the sky.

Travelers on the road fearfully made way.

“What’s happening?”

“So many troops?”

“Is Western Liang invading?”

Xiao Xun sat in his carriage, lifting the curtain with one hand to cover his nose and mouth to block the dust, curiously watching the troops just like the other travelers.

The troops quickly passed by.

People resumed walking on the main road, their footsteps quickened by anxiety.

“Your Highness,” the driver, Tie Ying, turned his head and called softly, “we should go.”

Xiao Xun had insisted on personally confirming that real troops were coming before he would leave.

“Let’s go,” Xiao Xun said, somewhat helplessly. “Father will laugh at me again when we return.”

Time after time, when something is laughed at too often, it ceases to be funny.

Why was it that when facing that girl, things never went smoothly?

It was truly infuriating.

…

The sound of hoofbeats in the valley and the trembling ground startled Chu Zhao and her companions as they were just leaving.

Were they still not giving up? Were they now going to assassinate them openly?

“It’s the imperial troops!” A scout came running first, shouting, “Imperial troops have come to support us.”

Imperial troops—Chu Zhao sighed with relief, looking back into the distance where she could faintly see cloudlike banners and hear the sound of armor clashing.

“The imperial troops arrived so quickly,” she was also somewhat surprised.

Xiao Man snorted beside her: “Yes, quite quick—just in time to collect our corpses.”

Chu Zhao smiled: “Don’t say that. I didn’t tell them my movements, so they didn’t know I would encounter danger. For them to arrive now is already very fast.”

Xiao Man turned her head to the other side and said nothing more.

…

The army stopped not far away, and an officer was brought over. He bowed deeply: “Greetings to—”

Chu Zhao hurriedly stopped him: “I am traveling with my identity concealed. There’s no need for such formality, sir.”

The officer stood up stiffly, acknowledging her words. He was about to blame himself when Chu Zhao spoke again, saying she didn’t blame him for arriving late; it was because she had deliberately kept her movements secret, and it wasn’t their fault for not knowing.

“Clear the mountain thoroughly,” Chu Zhao only said. “See if you can determine their identities.”

If they could prove it was the Prince of Zhongshan’s doing, that would be a good thing.

Of course, Chu Zhao felt there wasn’t much possibility. If the Prince of Zhongshan dared to do this, he would ensure no traces were left.

The officer acknowledged the order. Since self-recrimination wasn’t required and excessive formality wasn’t allowed, he thought for a moment before turning to call someone.

A soldier ran over quickly and stood before Chu Zhao, his expression somewhat constrained.

“This is from Chen County Post Station,” the officer said. “He reported to us that you might be in danger. He also had an emergency mobilization order, which is why we came searching—”

Chu Zhao looked at the postal soldier with some surprise: “How did you know I was in danger?”

And how did he know she had come here?

Although she would inform post stations of her movements—this was A-Jiu’s request before her departure, to avoid being traced, but to leave a message when passing through certain places.

“Otherwise that child will keep pestering me with questions, and I won’t be able to answer,” he had said.

But usually she would only say something when leaving, also as a way to let A-Jiu know, “I have safely passed through here.”

She hadn’t yet sent any message to Chen County Post Station.

She had thought post stations passively received information, but they knew her movements?

The postal soldier took out a map and an official order from his bosom: “Orders came down from above, stating you would arrive in these few days. If we didn’t receive word from you immediately, we were to dispatch troops to search.”

Arrive in a few days? Chu Zhao was somewhat confused. She reached out to take the map. It was a very common map of the western post route of the Great Xia. What was uncommon was—

Chu Zhao looked closer. In the sunlight, beside the name of each post station on the map were small characters noting times: which month and day to which month and day.

…

Standing in the forest by the roadside, several large trees and rocks provided cover. People on the road couldn’t see them, but they could see the travelers.

Especially that girl.

“Look, she’s smiling,” a woman lifted her wide-brimmed hat slightly and said softly. “What good news has she seen? She looks so happy.”

When she saw Chu Zhao smile, a smile also spread across the woman’s lips.

The girl surrounded by people was smiling, and the woman hidden behind the rocks was also smiling, but the people beside the woman wore somewhat sorrowful expressions.

“Chief,” a man beside her couldn’t help but say softly, “go meet her.”

“Haven’t I already seen her?” the woman said with a smile. She pressed her hand to her chest; even now her heart was still beating uncontrollably.

Although this wasn’t a moment worthy of joy—it had been dangerous and brutal—when she raised her head in the darkness and saw the girl appear amid the fighting and firelight, everything around her disappeared, with only that girl shining brilliantly.

It had been so long since she’d seen her; A-Zhao had grown taller, and also thinner.

No matter how she looked, she couldn’t look enough—

The woman’s reaction made the man beside her even more distressed.

“Chief,” he said somewhat urgently, “she doesn’t even know you. What kind of meeting is this? Taking advantage of this opportunity, why not just—”

“Just what?” the woman interrupted him, the smile at the corners of her mouth fading, her voice turning cold. “Use the favor of saving her life to make her recognize me as her mother?”

She looked at the girl on the main road.

“Previously I used her life as leverage, and now that I’ve saved her, can one life offset another, making her call me mother?”

She slowly shook her head.

“Didn’t you hear? She said her parents cherish her like a treasure.”

“I… am unworthy.”

…

Sunlight flooded the imperial city, but in the duty room beneath layers of palace buildings, visibility was somewhat dim.

On the desk lay a map of post stations, with slender fingers now pointing at it.

“She should have reached here by now,” Xie Yanlai said softly, with some disdain. “At her speed, she really can’t compare to me.”

Xie Yanlai stared at the post station map for a long time without moving, the late autumn sunlight dancing on him through the latticed window.

Until an imperial guard softly called from outside the door, “Commander.”

Xie Yanlai withdrew his gaze and turned his head, his phoenix eyes lowered, his expression returning to its cold demeanor: “What is it?”

The guard handed over a dispatch from a post station.

Seeing the marking, Xie Yanlai immediately took it and opened it. Inside was only a short note. The first two characters that entered his vision made his eyes blur momentarily.

“Ambushed”

He took a deep breath before he could continue reading.

“But safe”

Xie Yanlai closed his eyes briefly, one hand slamming on the desk for support as he cursed through gritted teeth, “Damned girl.”

The handwriting on this note was elegant, clearly written by her hand.

“Afraid you’ll worry, and won’t hide it from you. I am injured, but it’s only flesh wounds, nothing serious. Have also gained thirty new guards, and will continue forward. Don’t worry.”

After reading the few short lines, Xie Yanlai sat down and exhaled. Chu Zhao was in a hurry to report her safety and hadn’t written out all the details—Where was she injured? Who were the attackers? Where did these new guards come from? Were they reliable?

She said she was afraid he would worry, yet wrote nothing! Was she doing this deliberately?

He looked at the guard: “Tell General Zhang to come see me personally when there’s any new information.”

The guard acknowledged and withdrew.

Xie Yanlai sat reading the note over and over. Afraid he would worry? What was there for him to worry about? Feel guilty? Because he had persuaded her to go see her father?

How ridiculous. He had suggested it, but wasn’t she the one who wanted to go? Didn’t she know the dangers?

Everyone must bear the risks of their own choices. He wouldn’t worry, wouldn’t feel guilty!

Xie Yanlai crumpled the note in his hand, stood up and took a few steps, then sat down again and carefully smoothed out the crumpled note.