But the old acquaintance didn’t come to see them.
Banners flying fiercely, a hundred-man scout contingent halted and stood at attention in the distance. Only the commander could approach the Empress. He knelt before her holding a transfer order: “Zhong Changrong of Yunzhong Commandery transfers thirty thousand reinforcements. Junior Officer Bai Quan under the command of Roaming General Liang Qiang pays respects to Her Majesty the Empress.”
Chu Zhao had the soldier beside her accept it and asked, “Where is Liang Qiang?”
Junior Officer Bai said, “General Liang is leading troops to attack the rebels’ left flank and cannot leave. He asks Your Majesty’s pardon.” With that, he produced a letter. “General Liang has a letter for Your Majesty.”
Chu Zhao smiled faintly and gestured for the soldier to take it, asking no further questions. “Good. This Palace understands. You may go.”
Junior Officer Bai acknowledged and the troops thundered away at a gallop.
The snow particles transformed into snowflakes, dancing across the earth.
Xie Yanlai wrapped his head and face even more tightly, his expression neither smile nor frown. “This old acquaintance doesn’t dare come see you.”
Chu Zhao watched the dancing snowflakes and said coolly, “He’s afraid I’ll behead him on the spot.”
Previously, Zhong Changrong had written to Chu Zhao explaining that he’d been ambushed and lost an arm. He also told her that Mu Mianhong had captured a Da Xia merchant within Xi Liang territory, and that Liang Qiang had voluntarily revealed he’d been manipulated.
Besides Zhong Changrong’s letter, Zhu Yong had also sent her a secret letter indicating he’d begun investigating Yu Shang’s affairs.
Upon receiving 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 clan. So in that previous life, Uncle Zhong’s death was indeed connected to the Liang clan.
Fortunately, in this life Uncle Zhong had kept his life. As long as he lived, Uncle Zhong could still serve as a one-armed general.
However, in that previous life, Xiao Xun had been behind the Liang clan. In this life, was it still the case?
If so, with him now coming to attack Xiao Xun, was this Xiao Xun’s scheme, or had he truly betrayed Xiao Xun?
Another cough sounded beside her. “Hey, hey, look what his letter says.”
Chu Zhao glanced to the side. Neither the transfer order nor Liang Qiang’s letter had been opened; both were still held by the guard.
She didn’t need to see the transfer order—Uncle Zhong had already written ahead to tell her. He’d accepted Liang Qiang’s defection, and to avoid alarming whoever was behind him, made a show of valuing Liang Qiang highly, which was why he was sent as reinforcement.
These thirty thousand troops were veteran officers and soldiers personally selected by Zhong Changrong. Though nominally led by Liang Qiang, most were controlled by deputy generals Zhong Changrong trusted. There was no need to worry about problems with the troops.
As for Liang Qiang’s letter—
“If it’s inconvenient, I’ll withdraw,” Xie Yanlai said with a laugh beside her.
Chu Zhao turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow. “You’re really talkative today. If you want to see it, just say so.”
Xie Yanlai snorted coldly. “Who wants to read a letter from a grown man?”
Chu Zhao paid him no more mind, took the letter from the guard’s hand and opened it to see only a few sparse words written there.
“‘I will demonstrate with my actions.'” She read aloud, then smiled and tossed the letter to the soldier. “He knows I don’t trust him either.”
Xie Yanlai turned his gaze over and said, “Then why are you still using 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 temporarily refrain from investigating.” She smiled at Xie Yanlai. “I’ll investigate after he kills Xiao Xun.”
How interesting—in this life, the Liang clan was no longer being used by Xiao Xun as a substitute for himself, but had instead become someone who wanted to kill Xiao Xun.
Xie Yanlai pulled his cloak tighter, almost covering even his eyes.
“You’re the commander-in-chief. Command deployment is your decision. I’m just here to recuperate,” he said lazily, then coughed dryly several times. “Since you’re not arresting him, let’s hurry back. I’m an injured person, yet I’m accompanying you out here freezing.”
Chu Zhao laughed. “When the real fighting starts, I’ll need General Xie’s help. How could I manage alone?”
Xie Yanlai gave two hollow laughs.
“All right, all right,” Chu Zhao said. “Back to the city, back to the city.” She called out loudly to A’Le, “You go back first and prepare hot tea, hot food, and hot water for General Xie.”
Xie Yanlai said lazily, “And hot meat and hot wine.”
A’Le snorted beside them. “And hot medicinal soup and hot medicine pills—”
Before she could finish, Xie Yanlai spurred his horse forward at a gallop, leaving behind a parting line: “Don’t torment me anymore with your awful medicine.”
“Good medicine tastes bitter—what do you know!” A’Le shouted.
Chu Zhao smiled without speaking and urged her horse forward. The guards clustered around her, and more troops emerged across the surrounding terrain, like snow and mist obscuring Chu Zhao’s figure.
That must be no fewer than ten thousand troops. Junior Officer Bai, watching from a distance, instinctively estimated the number and couldn’t help glancing at the young officer beside him.
“The Empress naturally has many guards when traveling,” he said. “After all, she’s confronting rebels.”
Having said this, he saw the young officer dressed as a scout beside him smile faintly.
This smile made Junior Officer Bai somewhat uneasy. This forced explanation instead suggested speculation—such as why the general had clearly come but pretended to be a scout and didn’t go see the Empress, or why the Empress, who had come to receive the general, still had so many troops hidden around her—
“Yes,” Liang Qiang said. “The border warfare has all concluded, yet General Zhong could still be ambushed. Naturally Her Majesty the Empress must be cautious and thorough when traveling in areas once occupied by rebels.”
Junior Officer Bai exhaled in relief and nodded repeatedly. “Precisely so.”
Liang Qiang said, “Go. Organize the troops and prepare to depart.”
Junior Officer Bai acknowledged and withdrew.
The wind and snow grew heavier, vision becoming completely blurred. Liang Qiang still gazed into the distance. It was too far—he’d only caught a vague glimpse of her figure earlier.
She was indeed guarding against him.
He knew she would certainly ask, and there were some things he couldn’t answer—such as the fall of Shipo City.
If she knew he’d participated in the fall of Shipo City, she would certainly arrest him on the spot, not caring at all whether it would alarm whoever was behind this.
In that case, he would never again have the qualification to stand before her.
Therefore, this time he couldn’t go see her. He would wait until he killed Xiao Xun and Deng Yi, atoning for his crimes through merit, letting her see his sincerity, and letting her see that he was indispensable.
Taking one more deep look into the distance, Liang Qiang turned his horse and galloped away, merging into the rushing troops.
The earth was covered by snow—trampled by galloping hooves, trampled by the footsteps of fierce battles, or trampled and melted by fleeing civilians. Then the north wind would bring another snowfall, and the snow would again be trampled and melted, until the spring breeze swept across the earth and green grass drilled up from below, occupying and covering the ground. Only then did the snow completely cease to appear.
The spring of the fourth year of Xingping had arrived.
Spring light filled Zhongshan Commandery’s capital city. Looking at the pale green branches and tender flowers, even the civilians worn down by warfare couldn’t help but show faint smiles.
The commandery office was adorned with spring light; its severity greatly softened, becoming gentle and tranquil.
The next moment, clamor drove away the quiet.
“The Heir has arrived.”
“Pay respects to the Heir.”
Hearing the lively commotion outside, Deng Yi, sitting in the great hall, seemed unaware and oblivious, head lowered as he looked at the documents piled on the table.
Footsteps entered, and the clamor was blocked outside the door.
“Grand Tutor,” someone called.
Only then did Deng Yi raise his head and look at Xiao Xun standing in the hall.
In the spring light, Xiao Xun’s face was dotted with light perspiration. His rolled-up sleeves and the hem of his robe bore mud spatters—magnificent yet languid.
“Grand Tutor, you really should have come with me to participate in the spring plowing ceremony,” Xiao Xun said, his dimples brimming with laughter.
Deng Yi said, “At this time, people may not necessarily want to see me.”
Hearing these words, the smile on Xiao Xun’s face faded.
“Grand Tutor,” he seemed somewhat helpless, “you ordered people killed without even telling me?”
Deng Yi smiled slightly. “Because there’s no need. Before the Heir ascends the throne, this Grand Tutor still serves as regent.”