The past grievances between Prince Zhongshan and the imperial court were branded deep in the heart of every member of the Prince Zhongshan’s manor.

However, at this moment, Tie Ying was more concerned with what lay before him.

“Who arranged for this person?” he said in a low voice, watching the scholar who was still eloquently explaining the layout and spouting nonsense, his eyes flashing with cold light. “Deng Yi or Xie San?”

Xiao Xun didn’t seem to care: “We can spread rumors, and so can others. Whether it’s Deng Yi or Xie San, they’re both our adversaries now.”

There were never so many idle rumors in the world, especially at a time like this. Stirring people’s hearts or soothing them were naturally all arranged by someone.

Tie Ying said bitterly: “Xie San is one thing, but Deng Yi is truly a shameless scoundrel. He took our money yet went back on his word. It’s a pity Your Highness destroyed that imperial edict, otherwise we could produce it and tell the world that Deng Yi wrote it. Let’s see if he could still hold his position as Grand Tutor!”

That imperial edict… Xiao Xun lightly pressed his chest and smiled: “Since we know he’s a scoundrel, there’s no need to be surprised by anything a scoundrel does, and no need to be angry either. In the future—” He stood up. “We’ll just collect what’s owed to us.”

Tie Ying hurried to follow, walking out together with Xiao Xun.

People came and went in the teahouse, and no one paid attention to these two young men.

One young man boarded a carriage while the other drove the horses, slowly heading toward a city ahead.

This was the most important checkpoint in Zhongshan Commandery. Compared to before, there were even more troops stationed here, layer upon layer like a forest, scrutinizing every person who passed through. Even the chickens and ducks in baskets were pulled out for inspection.

Many people were stopped here. When asked for reasons, no explanation was given. When pressed further, soldiers would draw their swords: “Are you a Xi Liang spy or a remnant of the Zhao clan?” They looked ready to execute people on the spot.

The atmosphere at the city gate checkpoint was tense.

In this tense atmosphere, Tie Ying drove the carriage slowly forward, getting closer and closer to the city gate. His expression showed not the slightest tension, until he was stopped by guards.

“Get down from the carriage,” several guards said coldly.

Before Tie Ying could speak, an officer standing nearby stepped forward and glanced at the insignia hanging from the carriage.

“This belongs to the Commandery Governor’s household,” he told the guards. “The young master has a weak constitution and frequent illnesses. He’s just returning from seeking medical treatment and cannot be exposed to wind.”

The guards looked troubled as they glanced at the officer. Another officer walked over and greeted Tie Ying: “Back so soon this time? The Commandery Governor was still asking about you yesterday.”

Tie Ying said in a deep voice: “It’s not peaceful outside. The physician fled and we couldn’t find him.”

What a shame—the officer looked regretful: “You’ll have to seek out another renowned physician then.” He extended his hand in invitation. “Young master, please return quickly.”

Since both officers said so, and they appeared quite familiar with the person in the carriage, the guards no longer obstructed or conducted their inspection. When it came to inspections, how could there be absolute thoroughness? There were always one or two local powers whose face had to be given.

Besides, a single carriage couldn’t hide many people anyway.

The guards cleared the path, and amidst the forest of armor and weapons, Tie Ying drove the carriage slowly through.

So what if the imperial troops surrounded them? Zhongshan Commandery had belonged to Prince Zhongshan for decades—he was the master here. As long as these outsiders didn’t dare declare they were replacing the master, they remained just outsiders.

When Xiao Xun returned to Prince Zhongshan’s manor and went to see Prince Zhongshan, the prince was entertaining a guest at the hot spring pool.

Steam rose from the hot spring pool. Serving girls wore summer dresses that had been soaked through by the pool’s steam, clinging to their bodies like thin gauze as if they were naked. However, neither of the two men in the pool was looking at the beauties.

One man sat with eyes closed, focused on gently stroking his goatee with his hand.

On the other side, a maid applied warm towels soaked in the hot spring to Prince Zhongshan’s eyes. The prince leaned against a jade pillow and made a comfortable sound: “This prince will rest for a moment—”

“Father King,” Xiao Xun’s voice came from nearby.

Prince Zhongshan sighed helplessly: “Couldn’t you wait a bit before calling me?”

Xiao Xun smiled as he crouched down by the pool: “Father King, this invasion by Xi Liang has given the court an excellent opportunity to deal with us. They keep saying they’re searching for Xi Liang spies. Before long, we’ll all be arrested as Xi Liang spies.”

Before Prince Zhongshan could speak, the goateed man across from him spoke first.

“Your Highness the Crown Prince, we of Great Liang are not invading,” he said, his tone carrying an accent. Actually, the accent wasn’t necessary—the term “Great Liang” was sufficient to prove his identity.

“We merely came to pay respects to the Great Xia Emperor,” he continued, then sighed. “Ever since the legitimate line was lost, the imperial dynasties of the Central Plains have become increasingly barbaric, increasingly lacking in propriety.”

Xiao Xun laughed heartily: “Sir, if not for us, where would you be able to soak in warm pool water right now? You’d only be suffering a fate worse than death in the government’s iron prison. One must be grateful when receiving help—that’s the first rule of being a respectable person.”

The goateed man opened his eyes, his expression displeased: “You—”

Prince Zhongshan interrupted them: “Enough. Hot springs are for health and wellness. Getting angry while soaking in the spring pool is not good.”

The goateed man clearly didn’t want to anger Prince Zhongshan. He reined in his temper and stopped arguing with that dimpled, smiling young man. Looking at Prince Zhongshan, he said: “Besides, we’re also seeking justice for Your Highness. By all rights, either you or your son should be emperor. That six-year-old child isn’t even the late emperor’s son—he’s just a grandson. How could it be his turn?”

Prince Zhongshan removed the towel covering his eyes, without the slightest modesty or courtesy, and bowed in salute: “Many thanks to the Great Liang King.” He smiled slightly. “I wonder what gift the Great Liang King desires in return?”

The goateed man stood up from the pool, his expression full of grief and indignation: “My king only wants Chu Ling’s head!”

Back when Great Xia had enjoyed long peace and failed to prepare for danger in times of stability, the ambitious Great Liang had launched a campaign of conquest.

The sickly Great Xia Emperor died, and Great Xia retreated step by step, losing a large territory before reaching a stalemate with Great Liang. This continued until over a decade later, when the new Great Xia Emperor suddenly promoted a young military officer.

That young officer not only recaptured the lost territory and drove Great Liang back across the border, but also launched a surprise attack on the Great Liang royal court, killing the Great Liang King’s most beloved prince.

The prince’s head was hung at the border. Every batch of Great Liang soldiers who came was killed by Chu Ling. Finally, the Great Liang King himself came to the border commandery, stripped to the waist, hair disheveled, kneeling and begging for mercy, submitting as a vassal. Only after the Great Xia Emperor issued an edict did Chu Ling return the prince’s head to the Great Liang King.

This was Great Liang’s most painful memory. More than a decade had passed, yet the hatred remained deep.

“Before his death, the former king clutched our great king’s hand, his eyes refusing to close, until our great king promised he would take Chu Ling’s head to offer as sacrifice to the former king and elder brother. Only then did the former king close his eyes.” The goateed man beat his chest and stamped his feet, tears streaming down. “I know that in warfare between nations, life and death are fated, but that Chu Ling—”

The goateed man pointed at the sky.

“Not only did he kill our prince, he subjected him to such humiliation and torture—brutal and merciless, inhuman!”

“Our great king’s action is to avenge his father and brother. He only wants Chu Ling’s head.”

Prince Zhongshan looked at him with sympathy and called to the serving girls standing with lowered heads all around: “Quickly help the honored guest to rest. After soaking in the hot spring, such great sorrow and anger will cause exhaustion.”

The serving girls swarmed over to help the goateed man out and wrap him in robes. The goateed man didn’t refuse.

“Your Highness,” he said mournfully, “our great king has only this one request. He wishes to conspire together with Your Highness, to forge eternal friendship with Your Highness.”

Prince Zhongshan looked at him, seeming to ponder, then asked: “Does your great king have any princesses?”

The goateed man was startled, seemingly not comprehending.

Xiao Xun already put on a sorrowful expression: “Father King, I already have someone in my heart—”

Only then did the goateed man understand—was this about a marriage alliance?

“Yes—” he said. Even if there weren’t any, there would be.

Prince Zhongshan laughed heartily: “We’ll discuss the future later, discuss it later. Honored guest, please go rest first.” He waved his hand.

As he waved, the delicate serving girls helped the goateed man away. The goateed man also seemed truly exhausted and offered no resistance.

Only father and son remained at the hot spring pool.

Prince Zhongshan breathed out and lay back down, taking the towel himself to soak it in the hot spring before covering his eyes again: “Even monkeys know not to make noise when soaking in hot springs.”

Xiao Xun smiled: “Father King, do you believe his words?”

Prince Zhongshan said: “Whether I believe it or not doesn’t matter. As long as Xi Liang believes it themselves.” At this point he sighed lightly. “However, General Chu’s final hour has truly arrived this time.”

Xiao Xun said: “Then will Father King go rescue him? For the sake of Great Xia, for the sake of General Chu, not hesitating to expose your secretly hidden troops.” He pressed his chest. “Father King’s action truly makes people both resentful and moved. Unlike that Chu Zhao with her heart of iron and stone, the people of the world will surely be captivated by Father King.”

Prince Zhongshan laughed heartily and raised his hand to splash hot spring water: “Naturally! When it comes to captivating all living beings, you as my son can’t compare to me, your father.”

Xiao Xun didn’t dodge, letting the hot spring water splash on his face. The spring water fell from his smooth, delicate face like pearls.

“Father King, your son wishes to lead troops there in your stead,” he said.

Prince Zhongshan smiled and removed the towel to look at Xiao Xun: “Going to play hero saving beauty again? As the saying goes, things shouldn’t happen more than three times—”

Xiao Xun was about to speak when Prince Zhongshan waved his hand.

“However, you don’t need to make your move yet. There will be a more important moment for you to appear.”

“This time when you appear again, my son, you must captivate all under heaven.”

……

……

The imperial palace was brightly lit deep into the night.

The Grand Tutor’s Hall where Deng Yi resided had people coming and going constantly, while Xie Yanfang’s place was much quieter.

A courier was led in hurriedly by an official, bearing the dust of travel. He saluted Xie Yanfang: “Third Young Master, the letter has been delivered.” He added: “Young Master Yanlai has also arrived.”

Xie Yanfang made a sound of acknowledgment, raised his head as if to ask something, then smiled and nodded, waving his hand.

The courier immediately withdrew.

“Young Master,” the official said with some pleasure in his expression, “you have a letter, and Young Master Yanlai is there. The Empress should return very quickly this time.”

Xie Yanfang laughed heartily and shook his head: “No, she won’t. After reading the letter, she might still hesitate, but after seeing Xie Yanlai, there will be no more hesitation. She won’t come back.”

The official was stunned: “Why is that?”

“Because someone has played the hero,” Xie Yanfang said with a smile.

What did that mean? The official didn’t understand and was about to ask again.

Xie Yanfang stopped him and asked: “All the letters to the border commandery have been sent out on schedule, correct?”

Was he confirming again? The official once more affirmed yes and guaranteed there were no mistakes.

“That letter absolutely, definitely arrived before Xie Yanlai,” he emphasized.

Xie Yanfang smiled without speaking, only lightly stroking his cheek with his hand.

“Heroes are most alluring,” he said softly. “Only heroes captivate people.”

……

……

The wind in Yunzhong Commandery howled all night. It didn’t stop until nearly dawn, but Liang Qiang couldn’t sleep anymore. The earthen bed platform had gone completely cold, the chill seeping from below into his body with a hissing sound, while the quilt covering him was like a block of ice—stiff and freezing.

Liang Qiang had never known cold could be this cold.

He was born into wealth and privilege, but from childhood he had studied and understood that arrogance, extravagance, lust, and idleness corrupted one’s character. So he had done things like studying by a cold window, training in winter’s harshest cold and summer’s fiercest heat. But only at this moment did he realize that when you possessed wealth and power, all so-called hardships were a joke. When you lost wealth and power, everything you did was suffering—there was no “not suffering,” only “more suffering.”

And true winter hadn’t even arrived yet.

Liang Qiang sat up from the bed platform, his lips blue with cold. He wrapped a tattered fur coat around himself and only gradually recovered after a moment.

He felt he wouldn’t survive this winter.

Outside came the clanging sound of banging, particularly harsh in the cold early morning. Even though Liang Qiang was awake, his heart jumped in fright—one could imagine how those still sleeping felt.

This was the garrison chief’s cruel amusement. In the garrison chief’s eyes, these people sent here for penal labor weren’t human.

“Get up and work, work, you pigs!” came the accompanying shouts.

The tattered fur coat warmed Liang Qiang’s body enough to move. He got off the bed platform, opened the door, and walked out. The cold wind hit his face and made him shudder. From this cluster of low buildings, people emerged sporadically.

If they didn’t come out, the garrison chief and his subordinates wouldn’t just bang gongs—they’d splash water into the houses.

They didn’t care whether people could still live in those houses afterward. They didn’t live there anyway.

After ensuring everyone had come out, the garrison chief wrapped in his large cloak scowled and stopped cursing: “Look sharp, everyone! Now that the Xi Liang people are attacking, if you don’t work hard, we’ll send you to fight!”

Then he had his subordinates assign tasks. Today, everyone from this garrison would go reinforce the city defenses, working from morning until night.

After assigning tasks, two rough servant women carried over a wooden bucket. This was today’s breakfast—one bowl of thin gruel per person. Whether the gruel could fill their stomachs didn’t matter; that it was steaming hot was enough for everyone.

Everyone wanted to surge forward, but the garrison chief cursed them again and made them form a line.

Liang Qiang went straight to the back of the line. When he first arrived, he had pushed and shoved with others, getting into several fights—not that he couldn’t win, but there was no end to it. Winning meant being punished. Once, when he held his bowl of thin gruel and saw his bruised and swollen face reflected in it, he felt ridiculous.

Was his future life just about fighting for a bowl of thin gruel every morning?

If so, what difference did it make to drink it earlier or later?

Liang Qiang stood at the back of the line, slowly shuffling forward, watching the wooden bucket ahead—there was still a difference. The steam from the thin gruel constantly dissipated in the cold morning wind.

By the time it reached him, it would probably be cold gruel.

“A’Qiang,” came a voice from behind, happy and low: “Today your mother is on duty. The gruel definitely won’t be half-spilled.”

Liang Qiang turned around to see a clan brother’s smiling face.

This brother’s hair was messy, long since stripped of the bearing of a Liang clan descendant. Previously at home he hadn’t cared about fine wine and delicacies, but now having half a bowl more of gruel could make him smile.

Liang Qiang looked at his face and said: “Fourth Brother, we can’t continue as laborers.”

The Liang family brother was stunned and asked: “Then what should we do?”

Liang Qiang fell silent. He didn’t know either, but if they continued as laborers, he felt it would be better to die.