But the old acquaintance did not come to see them.

Banners fluttered vigorously as a hundred-man scout unit stopped at a distance and stood at attention. Only the commander came forward to the Empress, kneeling before her with a dispatch order in hand: “Military Officer Bai Quan from General Liang Qiang’s camp, of the three thousand reinforcements dispatched by Zhong Changrong from Yunzhong Commandery, greets Your Majesty the Empress.”

Chu Zhao had a soldier beside her receive the document and asked: “Where is Liang Qiang?”

Military Officer Bai replied: “General Liang is leading troops to attack the rebels’ left flank and cannot leave his post. He asks for Your Majesty’s understanding.” He then took out a letter, “General Liang has a letter for Your Majesty.”

Chu Zhao smiled slightly and gestured for a soldier to receive it, without asking further: “Very well, I understand. You may go.”

Military Officer Bai responded affirmatively, and the troops galloped away in a rolling mass.

The snow particles had turned into snowflakes, dancing across the land.

Xie Yanlai wrapped his head and face even more tightly, with an ambiguous smile: “This old acquaintance doesn’t dare to come see you.”

Chu Zhao watched the dancing snowflakes and said coolly: “He fears I might behead him on the spot.”

Earlier, Zhong Changrong had written to Chu Zhao, telling her he had been ambushed and lost an arm. He also mentioned that Mu Mianhong had captured a Da Xia merchant within Western Liang territory, and that Liang Qiang had voluntarily admitted to being manipulated by someone.

Besides Zhong Changrong’s letter, Zhu Yong had also sent her a confidential message, indicating he had begun investigating Yu Shang’s matter.

Reading these two letters, Chu Zhao was both surprised and unsurprised.

In this life, Zhong Changrong had also encountered an ambush, and it was related to the Liang family. So Uncle Zhong’s death in that other life was indeed connected to the Liang family.

Fortunately, in this life, Uncle Zhong had preserved his life—as long as one lives, Uncle Zhong could still serve as a one-armed general.

However, in that other life, the Liang family had been backed by Xiao Xun. Was it still the case in this life?

If so, was his coming to attack Xiao Xun part of Xiao Xun’s scheme, or had he truly betrayed Xiao Xun?

Beside her came another cough: “Hey, hey, look at what his letter says.”

Chu Zhao looked to the side; both the dispatch order and Liang Qiang’s letter were still being held by the personal guard.

She didn’t need to look at the dispatch order—Uncle Zhong had already written to inform her in advance that he had accepted Liang Qiang’s surrender. To avoid alerting those behind Liang Qiang, he made it appear as though he was putting Liang Qiang to good use, which was why he sent him as reinforcement.

These three thousand troops were trusted veteran soldiers selected by Zhong Changrong. Though nominally under Liang Qiang’s command, most were controlled by deputy commanders trusted by Zhong Changrong, so there was no need to worry about the troops being problematic.

As for Liang Qiang’s letter—

“If it’s inconvenient, I can step aside,” Xie Yanlai said with a smile.

Chu Zhao turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow: “You’re quite talkative today. If you want to see it, just say so.”

Xie Yanlai sneered: “Who wants to read a letter written by a grown man?”

Chu Zhao ignored him further and took the letter from the guard, opening it to see only a few characters.

“My heart is revealed through my actions,” she read aloud, then smiled and tossed the letter to the soldier. “He knows I don’t trust him.”

Xie Yanlai turned his gaze toward her and asked: “Yet you still use him?”

Chu Zhao thought for a moment: “But his desire to kill Xiao Xun should be genuine. As for whatever other secrets he’s hiding, I can set them aside for now.” She smiled at Xie Yanlai, “I’ll investigate after he kills Xiao Xun.”

How interesting—in this life, the Liang family was no longer Xiao Xun’s substitute but had become those who wanted to kill Xiao Xun.

Xie Yanlai wrapped his cloak tighter, almost covering his eyes.

“You’re the commander-in-chief. Troop deployment is your decision. I’m just here to recover from my injuries,” he said lazily, then coughed dryly several times. “Since you’re not arresting him, let’s head back quickly. I’m an injured man, accompanying you here in the cold.”

Chu Zhao smiled: “When the real fighting starts, I’ll need General Xie’s help. Alone, how could I possibly win?”

Xie Yanlai chuckled sarcastically.

“All right, all right,” Chu Zhao said, “Let’s return to the city, return to the city.” Then she called out loudly to A-Le, “Go back first and prepare hot tea, hot food, and hot water for General Xie.”

Xie Yanlai said lazily: “Also hot meat and hot wine.”

A-Le snorted from the side: “And hot medicinal soup, hot medicinal pills—”

Before she could finish, Xie Yanlai had already spurred his horse forward, galloping away while leaving behind a sentence: “Stop torturing me with your disgusting medicine.”

“Good medicine tastes bitter—what do you know?” A-Le shouted.

Chu Zhao smiled silently and urged her horse forward. Personal guards surrounded her, and more troops appeared across the surrounding landscape, like a snow mist covering Chu Zhao’s figure.

There must be no fewer than ten thousand troops, thought Military Officer Bai, who was watching from a distance and unconsciously estimating the numbers. He couldn’t help but look at the young officer beside him.

“The Empress has many escorts,” he said. “After all, she’s confronting rebels.”

After he spoke, he noticed the young officer beside him, dressed as a scout, smile.

This smile made Bai uneasy. Such forced explanations only invited suspicion—for instance, why would the general, who had arrived, disguise himself as a scout and not meet the Empress? And why, when the Empress said she came to meet the general, did she conceal so many troops around her—

“Yes,” Liang Qiang said. “The border conflicts have ended, yet General Zhong could still be ambushed. With the Empress in territory previously occupied by rebels, her travels naturally require caution and security.”

Military Officer Bai sighed in relief and nodded repeatedly: “Precisely so.”

Liang Qiang said: “Go now, reorganize the troops, and prepare to depart.”

Military Officer Bai responded affirmatively and withdrew.

The wind and snow grew heavier, blurring visibility, yet Liang Qiang continued to gaze into the distance. It was too far—he had only vaguely glimpsed her figure earlier.

She was indeed wary of him.

He knew she would certainly question him, and there were things he couldn’t answer, such as the fall of Shipo City.

If she knew he was involved in the loss of Shipo City, she would certainly have him arrested on the spot, without caring whether it would alert those behind him.

In that case, he would never again have the right to stand before her.

Therefore, this time he could not meet her. He would wait until he had killed Xiao Xun and Deng Yi, making amends through merit, letting her see his sincerity, and proving himself indispensable.

Taking one last deep look into the distance, Liang Qiang turned his horse around and galloped away, merging into the racing troops.

The earth was covered by snow, which was either trampled by galloping hooves, or churned by battle, or trodden by fleeing civilians until it melted. Then the north wind would bring another snowfall, which would again be trampled and melt, until spring breezes swept across the land and green grass sprouted from below to take over the ground’s surface. Only then would the snow finally disappear completely.

The spring of the fourth year of Xingping had arrived.

Spring light permeated the city of Zhongshan Commandery. Looking at the light green branches and tender flowers, even civilians worn down by war couldn’t help but show a hint of a smile.

Within the commandery office, spring light softened the austere atmosphere, making it gentle and quiet.

The next moment, the clamor dispersed the quiet.

“The Young Master has arrived.”

“We salute the Young Master.”

Hearing the commotion outside, Deng Yi, sitting in the main hall, seemed oblivious, keeping his eyes lowered on the documents piled on his desk.

Footsteps approached, and the clamor was blocked outside the door.

“Imperial Tutor,” someone called.

Only then did Deng Yi raise his head to look at Xiao Xun standing in the hall.

In the spring light, Xiao Xun’s face was adorned with a light sheen of sweat. His rolled-up sleeves and hem of his garments were splattered with mud, giving him a magnificent yet languid appearance.

“Imperial Tutor, you really should have joined me at the spring plowing ceremony,” said Xiao Xun, with a smile dancing in his dimples.

Deng Yi replied: “At this time, people may not necessarily want to see me.”

Hearing these words, the smile faded from Xiao Xun’s face.

“Imperial Tutor,” he seemed somewhat helpless, “You ordered executions without informing me?”

Deng Yi smiled slightly: “Because there was no need. Before you ascend the throne, Young Master, this Imperial Tutor still governs as regent.”