The government office where Xie Yanlai stayed had people coming and going—Zhong Changrong always felt this designation was a bit strange. Why should the government office have a place for Xie Yanlai to stay?

But there was no helping it. The government office simply had a place for Xie Yanlai to stay.

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

“The pears from the back courtyard. I’ve been guarding them so no one could steal them—saved them just for young master.”

Xie Yanlai was already popular, but this time his surprise capture of King Xi Liang was like setting off an explosion in the border army. Everywhere people spoke Xie Yanlai’s name.

Everyone took pride in Xie Yanlai.

He had returned quietly, but once word spread, countless soldiers swarmed over, scrambling to catch a glimpse of Xie Yanlai.

The back courtyard had practically no room to step, like a flock of sheep.

Zhong Changrong coughed heavily. The jostling sheep turned to look at him and quieted down.

“The war isn’t settled yet—are you all this slack already?” Zhong Changrong said sternly.

The flock scattered.

Zhong Changrong stopped the soldier carrying a basket of pears, told him to scram, and kept the pears.

Everyone else ran off, but Xiao Shan stood outside the door without moving. Seeing Zhong Changrong’s gaze, he straightened his spine: “My duty is to protect General Xie.”

Xiao Shan, who had become a captain commanding ten thousand troops, still got kicked by Zhong Changrong: “What are you protecting here? Guarding against whom? Scram.”

That was true enough. This was the commander’s residence. Xiao Shan could only leave.

Zhong Changrong bit into a pear with a crunch, juice filling his mouth, and said irritably: “I never even noticed the pear tree. These little rascals not only watched over it, they never once thought to let me eat any.”

Xie Yanlai lay in a rocking chair with a cloth draped over his face, swaying back and forth as he said: “Because… casting pearls before swine?”

Zhong Changrong kicked the rocking chair. It rocked violently, nearly flipping Xie Yanlai off.

Xie Yanlai grabbed the armrests and sat up. The cloth fell from his face, revealing his features. His face was even paler, which made his eyebrows seem blacker and his lips redder.

“I’m wounded, seriously wounded,” he said. “Are you trying to kill me and steal the credit?”

Zhong Changrong smiled smugly for once, looking him up and down: “You said you were injured so badly you nearly died? General Xie, don’t be so delicate.”

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

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

“Stop sleeping, stop sleeping.” Zhong Changrong finished eating the pear and kicked the chair again with his foot.

Xie Yanlai pulled down the cloth and looked at him: “General Zhong, the physician told me to take medicine as if it were food, to sleep day and night without distinction—only by doing this can I preserve my life.”

Zhong Changrong laughed, looking down at him and raising his chin: “I’ll find you a good place to recuperate—go campaign against the rebels Xiao Xun and Deng Yi.”

Xie Yanlai’s expression showed shock as he looked at him: “You didn’t even capture King Xi Liang yourself, you went through a life-and-death battle—how did your brain get injured?”

If one only looked at his expression, one might almost be fooled. Zhong Changrong spat.

“The way I am now, what could I do going to her?” Xie Yanlai sneered, then drew out his voice. “Isn’t there someone chasing after you, General, recommending themselves to go? That kind of person—might as well use them, use them to death.”

“Our Zhao doesn’t need anyone’s help at all,” Zhong Changrong said arrogantly. “You just need to bring the reinforcements over.”

At this point, he looked Xie Yanlai up and down.

“For this kind of mission, you can go lying down. After you arrive, it won’t interfere with you continuing to lie down and recuperate.”

The young general in the rocking chair raised his eyebrows at him, about to say something.

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

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

Now that Deng Yi had rebelled, only the Xie clan remained as the most powerful in court.

The war with Xi Liang ending didn’t mean everything was peaceful. Rather, another battle was about to begin—dividing merit and rewards,争夺 military authority, removing old people, bringing in new ones. That’s why Chu Zhao wanted him to remain with the border army, to stabilize it and his position.

“What we’ve given, what we’ve gained—we must hold it all in our own hands.”

Chu Zhao wrote in her letter. This letter was delivered through Mu Mianhong’s channels, avoiding 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 Miss Zhao trusted Xie Yanlai, and he trusted him too. But Xie Yanlai wasn’t alone—behind him was the Xie clan.

Actually, saying these words, he couldn’t hide his guilt.

This boy had fought desperately and achieved such great merit, yet they had to make him leave the border army. He was the Xie family’s Ninth Young Master, but these wounds were his own to bear.

The rocking chair swayed gently.

“Fine,” Xie Yanlai said, covering his face with the cloth again. “This mission is good. I can go deliver the troops, but don’t forget—not one bit of the merit and rewards I deserve can be missing.”

“Don’t forget” meant: the person could be sent away, but the merit and rewards must be given in full, leaving the Xie clan no opportunity to question. Zhong Changrong looked at Xie Yanlai and snorted: “You’re lucky. Deng Yi fled in betrayal. This time no one will block you from becoming Guard General.”

……

……

When the autumn wind swept across the Yellow River’s banks in October, Chu Zhao had been stationed here for half a month. Xiao Xun’s forces were indeed blocked on the opposite bank, but the court’s forces also couldn’t cross.

The defense on the opposite side was equally strict.

A’Le ran out and saw Chu Zhao standing on the riverbank with Xiao Man not far away, waving water plants playfully.

“Miss,” A’Le draped a cloak around Chu Zhao. “The waves and wind are strong by the river.”

Chu Zhao smiled her thanks and looked toward the distant opposite shore.

“Scouts report that Xiao Xun now doesn’t plan to cross the river,” she said. “Instead, he’s going to attack those prefectures in Hebei that haven’t submitted. Deng Yi goes ahead with the edict, imperial seal, and tiger tally, while he leads troops behind. Those who submit are immediately granted positions and troops; those who don’t submit are attacked and slaughtered. Before long, that entire area will fall into Xiao Xun’s hands.”

A’Le said softly: “Miss, I know you want to cross the river, but there’s no way. General Li also said warfare is long-term—haste makes waste.”

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

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

A’Le blinked. Seven or eight years? When the generals discussed warfare earlier, they did say to prepare for the long term, but did they mention a specific timeframe?

“Empress!”

An urgent shout came from behind.

Both Chu Zhao and A’Le turned around. Xiao Man also stood alertly beside Chu Zhao, watching several military officers rushing over.

“Your Majesty,” the lead general said excitedly. “Border army reinforcements have arrived.”

Chu Zhao was somewhat surprised and pleased, though this was within expectations. She had asked Zhong Changrong for fifty thousand troops.

“They arrived quite quickly,” she said. “Then let’s reorganize our defenses and make plans.”

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

Chu Zhao was slightly stunned.

“Your Majesty,” another general rushed to shout. “They circled around to the rear of Xiao Xun’s forces and have already taken two cities.”

Chu Zhao was overjoyed. This was beyond her expectations.

“Excellent!” She clapped and laughed loudly, her eyes shining like fire. “General Li, with this, Xiao Xun’s rear defense is broken—weak at the front and attacked from behind. We can take the opportunity to cross the river!”

The several generals exchanged glances, their expressions equally excited.

“By your command.”

……

……

The border army reinforcements’ surprise attack indeed affected the deployment of Xiao Xun’s forces. Half a month later, through persistent river-crossing battles, the court’s forces finally set foot on the opposite shore and swept forward like breaking bamboo, taking two more cities.

Watching Prince Zhongshan’s forces retreat like a receding tide, the court forces also beat drums to recall troops and stopped pursuing.

“Once we’ve rested and the reinforcements arrive, then we’ll leave them nowhere to escape,” the generals said with smiles, standing on the city gates, their gazes turning west with some anticipation. “The Empress should have joined with the border army by now.”

……

……

Chu Zhao saw the approaching cavalry from afar, but it was different from marching troops—besides horses, there was also a cart in the formation.

On the cart sat a rocking chair. She couldn’t see the person, only a foot sticking up, swaying with the movement.

A smile bloomed on Chu Zhao’s face. She spurred her horse forward rapidly, looking at that foot.

“Xie Yanlai—” she shouted loudly.

Hearing the shout, the foot continued swaying. Then a hand reached out and waved.

Chu Zhao instinctively reached out to catch it, and her arms suddenly held a heavy pear.

“Beloved Minister Xie,” she said, looking at the pear with a smile. “This tribute is rather shabby, isn’t it?”