Chu Zhao knew this day would come.

But she hadn’t imagined how she would react when it truly arrived.

Previously, when sitting by her father’s side, each time he closed his eyes to sleep, her heart would stop in fear until she confirmed his pulse was still beating. Only then would her heartbeat resume.

Now, holding her father’s wrist, she could feel no pulse, only the thunderous beating of her own heart.

Zhong Changrong’s voice came to her, sometimes distant, sometimes near.

“—The General had been sustaining himself with medicine all along, with only one final remedy remaining.”

“He once said that the medicine was kept for emergency, that after taking it, even a withered tree could briefly return to life in spring, but only for a moment.”

“Without taking the final remedy, the General could have persisted in his coma for much longer.”

“The General had previously instructed me, saying he wanted to die on the battlefield.”

At this point, Zhong Changrong’s tears fell, and his voice choked.

“Miss, please forgive me for not telling you, for taking matters into my own hands.”

Chu Zhao turned to look at him: “Uncle Zhong, you didn’t act on your own. This was my father’s choice, look.” She turned back to Chu Wei. “How happy Father is.”

“Father not only died on the battlefield.”

“He fought against the King of Western Liang, and once again defeated him.”

“And—”

She looked at Zhong Changrong again, breaking into a smile.

“And I was there, fighting alongside him.”

“Father’s final journey was thoroughly satisfying.”

Zhong Changrong roughly wiped his tears with his large hand and nodded: “Yes, that’s right. The General was very happy, with Miss by his side, going to battle with the soldiers, and defeating Western Liang once more. The General left with no regrets in this life.”

She, too, had no regrets. This time, she had reached her father’s side, accompanied him, gone to battle with him, and let him see her heart, knowing this daughter wasn’t raised in vain. He had also seen how formidable she was, how fearless, so he could depart with peace of mind.

“Issue the announcement,” Chu Zhao raised her hand to close Chu Wei’s still-open eyes. “General Chu Wei has passed away.”

Zhong Changrong hesitated and asked: “Now? Is it appropriate?”

Though the King of Western Liang had retreated from this battle, the war was not yet over. Would announcing Chu Wei’s death shake the army’s morale?

Chu Zhao knelt before her father’s knees and said: “Yes, now. Let the soldiers know that the General fought alongside them and died on the battlefield. With such a general, even though he’s gone, he remains in the soldiers’ hearts. Even if the King of Western Liang returns immediately, the soldiers will be fearless.”

The General had used the last of his life’s strength to drive back the King of Western Liang. Announcing his death now would not bring panic.

Grief would transform into strength.

Fearless and unstoppable.

An army in mourning is certain to triumph.

Zhong Changrong replied in the affirmative, stood up, and personally walked to the war drum to sound it.

The soldiers who were regrouping and reorganizing were startled by the sudden drumbeat. This was not a war drum but a funeral drum. Everyone looked in shock toward the source of the drumbeat. Nearby, command flags unfurled, and shouts followed.

“Escort General Chu Wei’s heroic spirit!”

The soldiers on the ground surged toward the central formation like a dark cloud, accompanied by thunderous shouts.

“General Chu Wei!”

“Escort the General’s heroic spirit!”

The thunder-like roar shook half the sky.

Standing on a distant hillside, previously quiet horses began to stir, but their riders forgot to calm them.

Little Man, who had been twisting away, unwilling to look in this direction, now turned back with a shocked expression: “Chu Wei, dead? Is it true? Is this a military tactic to confuse the Western Liang people?”

She was about to say more when someone beside her glared, signaling her to be quiet.

Little Man fell silent and looked at the woman in front of her.

The woman had been motionless for a long time, oblivious to both the thunderous sounds and the trembling ground beneath her feet.

A cold wind blew past. She raised her finger to catch a pearl-like tear from the corner of her eye, and gently brushed it away.

“A-Mian, pay respects to the General.”

…

…

Chu Wei’s funeral would wait until the end of the war and after the court received the news. Officials would bring posthumous honors for a formal burial.

These two days, Chu Zhao seemed both busy and not busy.

She sat in her father’s position, discussing war affairs with the officers, but she only listened without speaking. Zhong Changrong made all the specific decisions.

She inspected the wounded soldiers’ camp, comforting the injured.

At night, she patrolled the camp.

Everything was as if her father were still there.

Standing in the wilderness, Chu Zhao felt the biting cold wind. Footsteps approached from behind.

Chu Zhao didn’t turn around, seemingly unaware, until the person called out.

“Your Imperial Majesty is diligent in military affairs, but you shouldn’t skip meals,” said Xie Yanlai.

Chu Zhao replied: “This Empress is not hungry. With her heart devoted to country and people, drinking wind and dew is enough.”

Xie Yanlai nearly burst out laughing but restrained himself. This girl was just like this—able to say something playful at any time and place, even at a moment like this—

He put away his smile and stood beside her, tossing something into her arms.

“This humble official offers this tribute to Your Imperial Majesty. Please accept it,” he said.

Chu Zhao took it, opened the paper wrapper, and saw a roasted chicken leg. She made a sound of approval and nodded: “You are thoughtful, minister. A-Le, reward him.”

A-Le nearby laughed and responded.

Xie Yanlai didn’t express gratitude, just laughed dryly and turned his head to look at the thick darkness of night, where dots of starry fires from the city could be seen.

The girl beside him quietly ate the chicken leg.

“If you’re sad, just cry,” Xie Yanlai suddenly said.

Chu Zhao looked up at him, her mouth full of chicken, and argued indistinctly: “What are you talking about? I’m not sad. I told you, I was prepared long ago.”

Xie Yanlai looked down at her: “When it comes to losing parents, what difference does preparation make?”

At the moment of loss, the pain still pierces the heart.

Preparation is merely a helpless acceptance, not an absence of pain.

The lack of regret, Father’s happiness—all these reasons she wore like armor over her body and heart, yet she still couldn’t bear to enter the room where her father had lived.

She simply couldn’t face that empty room, couldn’t bear to think of the person she would never see again.

In the cold moonlight, large tears rolled down the girl’s face. She hugged her knees and began to cry silently.

A-Le also started crying. She wanted to complain that Xie Yanlai was so annoying, making the young lady cry with just one sentence, but she also felt relieved. After the General’s death, the young lady had been calm and collected—arranging defenses against Western Liang, sending messages to the court, preparing the memorial, all in perfect order, commanding respect. But A-Le knew this wasn’t right; her mistress’s emotions weren’t right at all.

When she was little, she would cry loudly if she couldn’t find her father during hide-and-seek.

Now she would never find him again. How painful must her heart be?

But A-Le didn’t dare say anything; she didn’t know how to say it.

Thankfully, there was this Xie Yanlai, who never knew the right thing to say.

Only he could make the young lady cry.

A-Le watched as Xie Yanlai’s toes turned slightly before he sat down beside the young lady. She exhaled deeply and stepped back.

…

…

When Chu Zhao woke up, it was already bright daylight. Looking around, she was startled for a moment before recognizing her father’s room.

She was still sleeping on the small couch by the bed, but there was no sleeping father on the bed.

He was gone.

In this life, she had lost her father too.

Chu Zhao’s heart suddenly constricted with pain. She involuntarily bent over, pressing her chest, when her hand touched something greasy. Something fell from her collar—

A half-eaten chicken leg.

Chu Zhao was stunned, then both angry and amused: “A-Le, A-Le!”

A-Le came running in from outside: “Is the young lady awake?”

Chu Zhao held up the chicken leg and asked: “What’s going on? It’s one thing not to change my clothes or help me wash up, but how could you let me sleep while hugging a chicken leg?”

A-Le laughed heartily: “This isn’t my fault.” She pointed outside, tattling, “It was Xie Yanlai who wouldn’t allow it. He said to let you sleep just like that, not to disturb you.”

Last night, Chu Zhao remembered she had been crying, and then she fell asleep while crying—, since seeing her father, she hadn’t slept soundly.

“After you fell asleep, Xie Yanlai carried you back,” A-Le said. “He wouldn’t let us change your clothes either. He just removed your cloak and shoes, covered you with a blanket, and said everything else could wait until you had slept well. That guy—”

Her words were interrupted by heavy footsteps from outside.

Xie Yanlai walked in and said coldly: “What about this guy?”

A-Le pouted and said nothing more.

Chu Zhao smiled: “Our beloved minister is most excellent.”

Was Xie Yanlai afraid of this? He had seen it all before. He chuckled: “Your Imperial Majesty is wise and clear-sighted.”