People came and went from Xie Yanlai’s quarters in the government office—Zhong Changrong always felt that this term was somewhat strange. Why should there be a place for Xie Yanlai in the government office?

But there was no help for it. The government office simply had quarters for Xie Yanlai.

Some brought medicine, some brought water, some brought food, and soldiers carried pears picked from who knows where—

“Pears from the back garden. I guarded them so no one could steal any, saving them for the young master.”

Xie Yanlai was already popular, but this time his surprise attack that captured the Western Liang King had electrified the border army. His name was on everyone’s lips.

Everyone took pride in Xie Yanlai.

He had returned quietly, but once the news spread, countless soldiers flocked to catch a glimpse of him.

The back garden was so crowded there was hardly room to stand, resembling a flock of sheep.

Zhong Changrong coughed heavily. The milling “sheep” turned to look at him and quieted down.

“The battle isn’t completely settled, and you’re all this lax?” Zhong Changrong shouted sternly.

The flock scattered.

Zhong Changrong stopped a soldier carrying a basket of pears, telling him to get lost but leave the pears behind.

Everyone else had run off, but Xiaoshan stood motionless at the door. Seeing Zhong Changrong’s glare, he straightened his back: “My duty is to protect General Xie.”

Xiaoshan, now a colonel commanding ten thousand troops, still received a kick from Zhong Changrong: “What are you protecting here? Who are you guarding against? Get lost.”

That was true—this was the general’s residence. Xiaoshan had no choice but to leave.

Zhong Changrong took a crunching bite of a pear, juice filling his mouth. He fumed: “I never even noticed the pear trees. These little rascals kept watch over them but never thought to offer me any.”

Xie Yanlai lay in a rocking chair with a handkerchief covering his face, swaying back and forth as he said: “Perhaps because it would be like a cow chewing on peonies?”

Zhong Changrong kicked the rocking chair, making it shake violently, nearly throwing Xie Yanlai off.

Xie Yanlai grabbed the armrests to steady himself, the handkerchief falling from his face to reveal his features. His face was paler, which made his eyebrows appear darker and his lips redder.

“I’m wounded, severely wounded,” he said. “Are you trying to kill me and steal my accomplishments?”

Zhong Changrong smiled with rare satisfaction, looking him up and down: “You said you were nearly dead from your wounds? General Xie, don’t be so delicate.”

Xie Yanlai ignored him, snorted, and lay back down, covering his face with the handkerchief again.

Zhong Changrong chewed on his pear while circling the rocking chair, examining Xie Yanlai from all angles, but Xie Yanlai showed no reaction, as if asleep.

“Stop sleeping, stop sleeping,” Zhong Changrong said after finishing his pear, kicking the chair again.

Xie Yanlai pulled down the handkerchief and looked at him: “General Zhong, the physician instructed me to take medicine like food, sleeping day and night without distinction. Only by doing so can my life be preserved.”

Zhong Changrong smiled, looking down on him with a raised chin: “I’ve found you a good place to recuperate—go campaign against the rebels Xiao Xun and Deng Yi.”

Xie Yanlai appeared shocked: “You didn’t capture the Western Liang King or experience a life-and-death battle. How did your brain get injured?”

If judging by his expression alone, one might have been fooled. Zhong Changrong spat in derision.

“In my condition, what could I do there?” Xie Yanlai sneered, then drawled, “Aren’t there people chasing after you, General, volunteering to go? Use those people—they’re free labor, use them until they drop dead.”

“Our A-Zhao doesn’t need anyone’s help,” Zhong Changrong said arrogantly. “You just need to lead the reinforcements over.”

He gave Xie Yanlai an appraising look.

“For this task, you can lie down. When you arrive, you can continue lying down to recuperate.”

The young commander on the rocking chair raised an eyebrow, about to speak.

Zhong Changrong stopped him, saying coolly: “Also, your achievements are too great now. I won’t let you stay in Yunzhong Commandery lest you divide my authority—Ninth Young Master Xie.”

Yes, besides being called Xie Yanlai, he was also the Ninth Young Master of the Xie family.

Now that Deng Yi had rebelled, the Xie clan was the only people with power left in court.

The end of the war with Western Liang didn’t mean everything was peaceful. Rather, it marked the beginning of another battle—the division of merits, rewards, and military power. Old people would be removed, and new people brought in. That’s why Chu Zhao wanted him to remain with the border army, to stabilize it and secure his position.

“What we’ve paid for, what we’ve gained, must be held in our own hands.”

Chu Zhao had written in her letter, which had been delivered through Wu Mianhong’s people, bypassing the court and also guarding against the Xie clan’s prying.

Zhong Changrong looked at the young man lying in the rocking chair. He knew that Lady A-Zhao trusted Xie Yanlai, and he trusted him too, but Xie Yanlai was not alone—behind him stood the Xie clan.

Saying these words, he couldn’t hide his regret.

This young man had risked his life to achieve such great merit, yet he was being made to leave the border army. He was the Ninth Young Master of the Xie family, but these wounds were his own to bear.

The rocking chair swayed gently.

“Fine,” Xie Yanlai said, covering his face with the handkerchief again. “This mission isn’t bad. I can go deliver the troops, but don’t forget, not one bit of the merits and rewards I deserve can be missing.”

“Don’t forget” meant that while the person could be sent away, the merits and rewards must be given in full, leaving the Xie clan no grounds for complaint. Zhong Changrong looked at Xie Yanlai and snorted: “You’re lucky. Deng Yi has defected, so no one will prevent you from becoming the Guard General this time.”

…

…

When the October winds swept across the banks of the Yellow River, Chu Zhao had been stationed there for half a month. Xiao Xun’s forces were indeed held on the opposite bank, but the imperial troops couldn’t cross over either.

The defenses on the other side were equally formidable.

A-Le hurried out to find Chu Zhao standing on the riverbank. Xiao Man was playing with water plants not far from her.

“My lady,” A-Le draped a cloak around Chu Zhao, “the river’s waves and winds are strong.”

Chu Zhao smiled in thanks and gazed across to the distant shore.

“Scouts report that Xiao Xun is no longer planning to cross the river,” she said. “Instead, he’s attacking the prefectures and cities in the north that haven’t submitted to him. Deng Yi goes ahead with the imperial edict, seal, and tiger tally, while he follows with troops. Those who submit are immediately granted official positions and troops. Those who don’t are attacked and massacred. Before long, that entire region will fall into Xiao Xun’s hands.”

A-Le said quietly: “My lady, I know you want to cross the river, but there’s no way. General Li also said that warfare is a long-term affair; haste leads to failure.”

Warfare was indeed a long-term affair, Chu Zhao thought, but—

“This time is different from before,” she said. “I won’t let the war drag on for seven or eight years.”

A-Le blinked. Seven or eight years? When the generals had discussed the war, they said they needed to prepare for the long term, but had they mentioned a specific timeframe?

“Your Majesty the Empress!”

An urgent shout came from behind.

Chu Zhao and A-Le both turned. Xiao Man also alertly stood beside Chu Zhao, watching several military officers rushing toward them.

“Your Majesty,” the lead officer said excitedly, “the border army reinforcements have arrived.”

Chu Zhao was somewhat delighted, though this was expected. She had told Zhong Changrong to send fifty thousand troops.

“They’re quite fast,” she said. “Let’s rearrange our defenses and make new plans.”

The lead officer smiled: “Your Majesty, they haven’t come to join us.”

Chu Zhao was slightly startled.

“Your Majesty,” another officer hurriedly called out, “they’ve taken a detour into the rear of Xiao Xun’s army and have already captured two cities!”

Chu Zhao was overjoyed. This was beyond her expectations.

“Excellent!” She clapped her hands and laughed heartily, her eyes bright as fire. “General Li, if this is the case, with Xiao Xun’s rear defenses broken and his forces weakened by fighting on two fronts, we can take the opportunity to cross the river!”

The officers exchanged glances, their expressions also animated.

“We obey the command.”

…

…

The surprise attack by the border army reinforcements indeed affected Xiao Xun’s defensive deployment. Half a month later, through persistent river-crossing battles, the imperial troops finally set foot on the opposite shore and, with unstoppable momentum, consecutively captured two cities.

Watching Zhongshan’s troops retreat like an ebbing tide, the imperial forces beat their drums to gather troops, ceasing pursuit.

“After we regroup and join with reinforcements, we’ll leave them nowhere to escape,” the officers said with smiles as they stood on the city gate, gazing westward with anticipation. “The Empress should have joined with the border army by now.”

…

…

Chu Zhao could see the distant troops, though they were different from a marching army. Among the formation, besides horses, there was a carriage.

On the carriage sat a rocking chair. The person couldn’t be seen, only a raised foot that swayed with the movement.

Chu Zhao’s face broke into a smile. She spurred her horse forward, looking at that foot.

“Xie Yanlai—” she shouted.

Hearing her call, the foot continued to sway, then a hand extended and tossed something.

Chu Zhao instinctively reached out and caught a heavy pear.

“Minister Xie,” she laughed, looking at the pear. “This tribute is rather modest, isn’t it?”