The past grievances between the Prince of Zhongshan and the imperial court were branded in the heart of every person in the Zhongshan Prince’s mansion.

However, at this moment, Tie Ying was more concerned with what was before his eyes.

“Who arranged for this person?” he asked in a low voice, looking at the scholar who was still explaining the layout, talking nonsense with great enthusiasm, his eyes cold and piercing. “Was it Deng Yi or Xie San?”

Xiao Xun wasn’t concerned: “If we can spread rumors, so can others. Whether it’s Deng Yi or Xie San, they are now our opposition.”

Where in the world were there so many idle talks, especially at a time like this? Stirring up people’s hearts or soothing them was naturally arranged by human design.

Tie Ying said hatefully: “Xie San is one thing, but Deng Yi is truly a despicable person. He took our money, yet broke his word. It’s a pity that Your Highness destroyed that imperial edict. Otherwise, we could have shown it to the world, telling everyone that this was written by Deng Yi. Let’s see if he could still hold his position as Imperial Tutor!”

That imperial edict… Xiao Xun gently pressed his chest and smiled: “Since we know he’s a despicable person, a villain will do anything unexpected. There’s no need to be angry. In the future—” he stood up, “we’ll collect what he owes us.”

Tie Ying hurriedly followed, leaving with Xiao Xun.

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

One young man got into a carriage, the other mounted a horse, and they slowly headed toward a city in the distance.

This was the most important checkpoint in Zhongshan Commandery. Compared to before, there were more troops, layer upon layer like a forest, watching every passerby. Even the chickens and ducks in baskets were taken out for inspection.

Many people were stopped here. When asked for a reason, the guards wouldn’t say. When pressed further, soldiers would draw their swords: “Are you a Western Liang spy or a remnant of the Zhao clan?” They appeared 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 nervousness until they were stopped by the guards.

“Get down,” several guards commanded coldly.

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

“This belongs to the Commandery Governor,” he said to the guards. “The young master is frail and sickly. He’s just returning from seeking medical treatment and cannot be exposed to the wind.”

The guard looked at the officer with a troubled expression. Another officer walked over and greeted Tie Ying: “You’re back so quickly this time? The Governor was asking about you just yesterday.”

Tie Ying said in a deep voice: “It’s unstable outside. The doctor fled, and we couldn’t find him.”

“That’s truly—” the officer expressed regret. “We’ll find another famous doctor.” He extended his hand in invitation. “Young master, please return quickly.”

Since both officers spoke this way, and they seemed quite familiar with the person in the carriage, the guards no longer obstructed or checked them. After all, how absolute could inspections be? There was always one or two local powers whose face needed to be saved.

Besides, a carriage couldn’t hide that many people.

The guards cleared the way, and amid the array of armor and weapons, Tie Ying drove the carriage slowly past.

What did it matter if imperial troops surrounded them? Zhongshan Commandery had belonged to the Prince of Zhongshan for decades. He was the master here. These outsiders were just that—outsiders—as long as they didn’t dare declare they were changing the master.

Xiao Xun returned to the Zhongshan Prince’s mansion. When he came to see the Prince of Zhongshan, the prince was entertaining a guest in the hot spring pool.

Steam rose from the hot spring pool. Serving girls wore summer dresses that were soaked through by the pool’s steam, clinging to their bodies like thin gauze, almost as if they were naked. But neither of the two men in the pool paid any attention to the beauties.

One man closed his eyes to rest, concentrating on gently combing his goatee with his fingers.

On the other side, a maid placed a warm towel over the Prince of Zhongshan’s eyes as he leaned back on a jade pillow, making sounds of comfort: “I want to take a short rest—”

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

The Prince of Zhongshan sighed resignedly: “Couldn’t you have called out later?”

Xiao Xun smiled and crouched by the pool: “Father, this Western Liang invasion has given the imperial court a good opportunity to deal with us. They keep talking about searching for Western Liang spies. I think it won’t be long before we’re all arrested as Western Liang spies.”

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

“Your Highness, we of Great Liang are not invading,” he said, his tone carrying an accent. Even without the accent, the term “Great Liang” was enough to reveal his identity.

“We simply came to pay respects to the Emperor of Great Xia,” he continued, then sighed. “Since the legitimate line was displaced, the imperial dynasty of the Central Plains has become increasingly barbaric and disorderly.”

Xiao Xun laughed: “Sir, if it weren’t for us, you would now be languishing in an iron prison instead of soaking in this warm pool, caught between life and death. Being grateful for help received is the first rule of decency for any respectable person.”

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

The Prince of Zhongshan interrupted them: “Enough. Hot springs are for health. Getting angry while in the hot spring water is not good.”

The goateed man didn’t want to offend the Prince of Zhongshan, so he suppressed his temper and no longer paid attention to the young man with the dimpled smile. Looking at the Prince of Zhongshan, he said: “Also, we’re indignant on Your Highness’s behalf. By rights, Your Highness or your son should be emperor. That six-year-old child isn’t even the late emperor’s son, just a grandson. How could it be his turn?”

The Prince of Zhongshan removed the towel covering his eyes and, without any modesty or politeness, clasped his hands in a salute: “Thank you, King of Great Liang.” Then he smiled slightly. “What gift would the King of Great Liang like in return?”

The goateed man stood up from the pool, his expression grieved: “My king only wants the head of Chu Ying!”

Years ago, when Great Xia had been peaceful for too long and grown complacent, the ambitious Great Liang launched an invasion.

The frail and sickly Emperor of Great Xia died, and Great Xia retreated steadily, losing vast territories. They remained at a stalemate with Great Liang until more than a decade later, when the new emperor of Great Xia suddenly promoted a young military officer.

That young officer not only reclaimed the lost territories and drove Great Liang out, but also launched a surprise attack on the Great Liang royal court, killing the king’s most beloved prince.

The prince’s head was hung at the border, and Chu Ying killed batch after batch of Great Liang soldiers who came. Finally, the King of Great Liang personally came to the border commandery, stripped to the waist, with his hair disheveled, kneeling to beg for mercy, submitting as a vassal. Only then, by imperial decree, did Chu Ying return the prince’s head to the King of Great Liang.

This was Great Liang’s most painful memory. After more than a decade, the hatred remained deep.

“On his deathbed, the late king clutched our king’s hand, unable to close his eyes until our king promised to take Chu Ying’s head to sacrifice to his father and elder brother. Only then did the late king close his eyes,” the goateed man beat his chest and stamped his feet, tears flowing. “I know that in the war between two countries, life and death are matters of fate, but Chu Ying—”

The goateed man pointed to the heavens.

“He killed our prince, and then humiliated and tortured him so cruelly and heartlessly. It was inhuman!”

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

The Prince of Zhongshan looked at him sympathetically and called to the serving girls standing with lowered heads nearby: “Quickly help the noble guest to rest. After soaking in the hot spring, great sorrow and anger can drain one’s strength.”

The serving girls rushed forward to help the goateed man out, wrapping him in a robe. The goateed man did not refuse.

“Your Highness,” he said sorrowfully. “Our great king has only this one request. He wishes to scheme with Your Highness and form an eternal alliance.”

The Prince of Zhongshan looked at him, seemingly pondering, then asked: “Does your king have a princess?”

The goateed man was stunned, as if he hadn’t quite processed the question.

Xiao Xun had already assumed a pained expression: “Father, my heart already belongs to another—”

The goateed man finally understood—a marriage alliance?

“Yes—” he said. Even if there wasn’t one, there would be.

The Prince of Zhongshan laughed heartily: “We’ll discuss it later, we’ll discuss it later. Noble guest, please go rest first.” He waved his hand.

Following his gesture, the delicate serving girls escorted the goateed man away. The goateed man also seemed truly weakened and offered no resistance.

Only father and son remained at the hot spring pool.

The Prince of Zhongshan let out a sigh, lying back down and taking a towel himself, soaking it in the hot spring water before covering his eyes with it: “Even monkeys know not to make noise when soaking in hot springs.”

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

The Prince of Zhongshan said: “It doesn’t matter whether I believe it or not, as long as Western Liang believes it.” At this, he sighed lightly. “But General Chu’s time is up this time.”

Xiao Xun asked: “Then will father save him? For Great Xia, for General Chu, not hesitating to expose your secretly kept troops.” He pressed his hand to his heart. “Father’s action is both hateful and moving. The world’s people are not like Chu Zhao with her heart of iron and stone; they will surely be captivated by their father.”

The Prince of Zhongshan laughed heartily and splashed some hot spring water with his hand: “Naturally! When it comes to captivating people, you, my son, cannot compare to your old man.”

Xiao Xun didn’t dodge, allowing the hot spring water to hit his face. The water fell from his smooth, delicate face like pearls.

“Father, I am willing to lead troops in Father’s stead,” he said.

The Prince of Zhongshan smiled and looked at Xiao Xun, removing his towel: “Going to play the hero again? As the saying goes, things shouldn’t happen more than three times—”

Xiao Xun was about to say something, but the Prince of Zhongshan waved his hand.

“However, there’s no need for you to act now. You’ll have a more important moment to appear.”

“The next time you appear, my son, you must captivate the entire world.”

…

…

The imperial city was brightly lit in the depths of the night.

People came and went continuously at the Imperial Tutor’s Palace where Deng Yi resided, while Xie Yanfang’s place was much quieter.

A courier was urgently led in by an official, carrying the dust of the road. He bowed to 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, nodded, and waved his hand.

The courier immediately withdrew.

“Young Master,” the official said with a hint of pleasure. “With your letter and Young Master Yanlai, the Empress should return quickly.”

Xie Yanfang laughed, shaking his head: “No. Having only read 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 smiled.

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

Xie Yanfang stopped him and asked: “Have all the letters to the border commandery been sent on time?”

Was he seeking confirmation again? The official once more responded affirmatively and guaranteed everything was foolproof.

“That letter arrived earlier than Xie Yanlai,” he emphasized.

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

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

…

…

The wind in Yunzhong Commandery howled all night, only stopping as dawn approached. But Liang Qiang couldn’t sleep anymore. The kang bed had completely cooled, and the chill seeped up from below, hissing as it crept into his body. The blanket covering him felt like a block of ice, stiff and cold.

Liang Qiang had never known cold could be so cold.

Born into wealth and privilege, he had studied from childhood and understood that luxury and comfort corrupted the mind. So he had endured the hardships of studying in cold rooms and training in the depths of winter and the height of summer. But only now did he realize that, when one possessed wealth and power, so-called hardships were a joke. When you lost wealth and power, everything you did was suffering—not just suffering, but ever greater suffering.

And it wasn’t even the depth of winter yet.

Liang Qiang sat up naked, his lips turning blue. He wrapped a tattered fur coat around himself and only gradually recovered.

He felt he wouldn’t survive this winter.

Outside came the clanging sound of metal being struck, particularly jarring in the cold morning. Even though Liang Qiang was already awake, it startled him, making his heart pound. One can imagine how those still sleeping felt.

This was the garrison chief’s cruel amusement. In the garrison chief’s eyes, these exiled laborers were not human.

“Get up and work, get up and work, you pigs!” The shouts rose with the clanging.

The fur coat had warmed Liang Qiang enough to move. He got out of bed, opened the door, and walked out. The blast of cold made him shiver. People emerged sporadically from the row of low houses.

If they didn’t come out, the garrison chief and his men would no longer just bang on gongs—they would pour water into the houses.

They didn’t care if the houses remained habitable; they didn’t live there themselves.

Ensuring everyone had come out, the garrison chief, wrapped in a large cloak, stopped cursing with a grim face: “Everyone, stay alert! The Western Liang people are attacking. If you don’t work hard, we’ll send you to fight!”

Then he had his men assign tasks. Today, everyone in their garrison had to reinforce the city defenses, working from morning until night.

After assigning the tasks, two rough women approached carrying wooden buckets. This was today’s breakfast—one bowl of thin porridge per person. Whether the porridge could fill the stomach wasn’t important; the fact that it was steaming was enough for everyone.

Everyone surged forward but was scolded by the garrison chief, who made them form a line.

Liang Qiang directly stood at the very end. When he first arrived, he had pushed and shoved with others, fought several times—not that he couldn’t win, but the fights were endless, and winning only led to punishment. Once, as he held his thin porridge and saw his own bruised, swollen face reflected in it, he felt ridiculous.

Was his future life just for a bowl of thin porridge each morning?

If so, what difference did it make whether he drank it early or late?

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

By the time he got his portion, it would probably be cold porridge.

“A-Qiang,” a voice behind him said softly with delight. “Today your mother is on duty. The porridge definitely won’t be half-spilled.”

Liang Qiang turned around to see the smiling face of a brother.

This brother’s hair was disheveled, long since losing the graceful appearance of a Liang clan member. Before, at home, he wouldn’t have cared about fine wine and food, but now he could smile at the prospect of a little more thin porridge.

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

His Liang family brother was stunned for a moment, then asked: “Then what will we do?”

Liang Qiang fell silent. He didn’t know either, but if they continued as laborers, he felt they might as well die.