The Xu family residence wasn’t far from the Gao family, but they weren’t immediate neighbors either—several streets still separated them.

When Xu Mi returned home that evening, it was already deep into the night. Though he was in his study surrounded by complete silence, he seemed to still hear the celebratory sounds from the Gao residence several streets away.

He closed his eyes, sitting upright, breathing deeply, yet his mind conjured the scene from yesterday’s court session when Li Mu received his honors and rewards.

At that time, the admiration and pride Gao Qiao showed looking at his son-in-law had pierced Xu Mi’s eyes like thorns and stuck in his throat like a fishbone. Even after a full night had passed, that suffocating feeling remained difficult to dispel.

He deeply regretted his poor judgment at the time, completely misjudging the situation. Not only had he failed to anticipate that Li Mu, then merely an Assistant Commander, would possess such great capability in the future, but what truly pained him was that Li Mu had originally been under his own military command, yet due to his misreading of circumstances, he had forcibly handed him over to Gao Qiao, making him into today’s son-in-law of Gao Qiao.

Clearly, this Li Mu who had originally been incompatible with the Gao family, who had turned their household upside down and earned their bitter hatred, had long since been accepted.

This father and son-in-law pair now had a relationship as harmonious as fish in water.

Xu Mi continued his breathing exercises until finally suppressing his emotions and slowly opening his eyes.

The court’s winds and clouds shifted constantly with undercurrents surging—unexpected situations arose at every moment.

Having competed with Gao Qiao for most of his life, who could guarantee they would always have keen insight without any oversights?

Even Gao Qiao had suffered major setbacks at his hands several times.

What was done was done. Rather than self-pity, better to plan strategically and look toward the future.

Fortunately, he had acted quickly, early joining with Lu Guang to launch the Northern Expedition, and the current situation looked excellent.

Nanyang had fallen. Now, as long as Yang Xuan could capture Yingchuan and the Lu family could take Yan City, with both armies converging and striking decisively, capturing Luoyang was not an impossible achievement.

If they truly captured Luoyang, it would mean Beixia losing its capital—tantamount to destruction. Such unprecedented merit would completely surpass Li Mu’s conquest of Chang’an.

Even if they encountered Beixia’s desperate resistance and couldn’t immediately capture Luoyang, being able to reclaim large swaths of former territory in Jianghuai, with such merit, he would be able to stand as an equal with Gao Qiao in future court sessions and then plan greater strategies.

Xu Mi felt slightly excited again and couldn’t help rising to retrieve from a letter box a battle report that had arrived a few days ago—one he had already read thoroughly—to review once more.

This battle report came from his second son, Xu Chuo.

Among Xu Mi’s many sons, Xu Chuo was one he rather appreciated.

Unlike many current aristocratic families whose heads preferred sons like Lu Jianzhi with high talent and pure disposition, Xu Mi didn’t lack sons who could compose poetry and discuss metaphysics.

Though his second son’s literary talent was mediocre, he was brave and skilled in battle, capable of leading troops. Xu Mi had always carefully cultivated him, expecting great service in the future.

But he also knew this son had an arrogant temperament, insufficient steadiness, and lacked experience. He was far from being able to handle independent responsibility, so for this Northern Expedition, he didn’t dare entrust him with major duties. He had Yang Xuan hold the commander’s seal while only giving Xu Chuo the position of Right General, following Yang Xuan’s deployment.

In this private report to Xu Mi, Xu Chuo described how he had won first place in the Nanyang battle, achieving great merit, with all the allied forces showing respect. By the time he wrote the letter, he had already led troops into Yingchuan, achieving victories everywhere along the way. They were only days away from Yangzhai, with his subordinate officers and soldiers eager to achieve extraordinary merit again.

Flowing eloquently, the lines brimmed with high spirits and complete confidence.

After reading his son’s private report, Xu Mi looked through Yang Xuan’s official report to him.

Yang Xuan said that bearing the Situ’s heavy responsibility, he dared not slack in the slightest. Having Lu Jianzhi’s cooperation with the joint army, he had fortunately fulfilled his mission in taking Nanyang, with military morale greatly boosted.

He would certainly be diligent day and night, fulfilling his duties conscientiously to not disappoint the Situ’s trust. However, with Beixia abandoning Chang’an to return troops to protect Luoyang and responding with full force to Dayu’s Northern Expedition allied forces, the so-called “centipede dies but doesn’t fall”—there were countless troops stationed in Yuzhou now, with reinforcements still converging from various places. Direct assault was not a wise strategy. Therefore, the allied forces split into two routes, planning to first take Yingchuan where enemy defenses were weak—he would attack Yangzhai while the Lu forces took Yan City, then converge for greater chance of victory. The Lu army had already departed for Yan City, and his side was also moving according to the predetermined plan, estimated to reach Yangzhai within days. He would promptly send subsequent battle reports.

Yang Xuan’s report was concise and clear, showing his tone was grave and cautious.

Xu Mi set it down and looked again at his son’s letter, lost in thought for a moment.

Suddenly, his gaze shifted slightly, as if thinking of something he had previously overlooked. He immediately strode behind his desk, took up his brush to dip in ink, and quickly wrote a letter. After stamping it with his great seal and sealing it, just as he was about to have someone send this letter out immediately by 800-li express, he heard rapid footsteps outside.

The steward pushed through the door, calling: “Situ, a battle report just arrived from General Yang!”

Xu Mi had previously ordered that upon receiving front-line battle reports, regardless of the time, they should be delivered immediately without waiting.

He took the cowhide envelope sealed with fire wax. As he broke the seal, his heart surged with nervousness and excitement, his fingers even trembling slightly.

“Congratulations, Situ! It must be another victory report!” the steward said beside him with a face full of smiles.

Xu Mi broke the seal, removed the contents, steadied himself, and unfolded it.

“Situ, did our young master achieve extraordinary merit at the front again? Not to flatter, but the young master is accomplished in both literature and martial arts, with heaven-granted talent. With just a little more experience, let alone the Lu family’s eldest son, even that Li Mu who just captured Chang’an would be nothing before our young master…”

The steward continued his flattery.

He had also delivered the previous great victory report. When Xu Mi was pleased, he had casually given him a generous reward, so naturally he worked even harder this time.

His gaze fell on his master’s face, seeing him reading the report rapidly, but before finishing, his expression suddenly changed dramatically, as if invisible ice had descended from above, instantly freezing his entire being.

The steward was startled and his voice quieted.

“Get out!”

Xu Mi suddenly slammed the table and roared.

The steward was shocked, quickly closing his mouth and bowing low, practically crawling out in retreat.

Xu Mi’s eyes bulged as if about to pop from their sockets.

He stared fixedly at the battle report in his hands, hardly believing his own eyes.

But it was there in black and white, crystal clear.

Yang Xuan had led the Xu army toward Yangzhai. Beixia troops acted completely against character—the road garrison had no fighting spirit, encountering almost no decent resistance, and they successfully approached Yangzhai. They received intelligence that Beixia reinforcements hadn’t arrived yet and Yangzhai’s forces were weak.

Based on years of military intuition, Yang Xuan suspected deception ahead and ordered the army to halt while gathering more intelligence.

This halt met with Xu Chuo’s opposition.

Advancing northward, Xu Chuo had repeatedly fought for the vanguard, singing victory songs, gradually becoming overconfident and focused on winning through speed.

In his eyes, generals from humble origins like Yang Xuan, no matter how capable, were merely servants for his family’s use—how could he truly respect them? During regular tent meetings, he would frequently interrupt the commander’s words in front of many officers and soldiers, holding forth himself, while Yang Xuan could only endure.

This time, seeing Yangzhai ahead like something easily obtained, with army morale high, yet Yang Xuan refusing to advance, how could Xu Chuo continue to endure? So relying on his status, he secretly united many generals who followed him, seized Yang Xuan’s commander seal, and ordered the army forward to capture Yangzhai. The result was falling into a trap—surrounded and suffering devastating defeat, with Xu Chuo nearly captured in battle.

It was Yang Xuan who rescued his lord, leading the remaining tens of thousands of troops who hadn’t followed Xu Chuo’s command and still followed him, fighting into the encirclement, tearing open Beixia’s surrounding forces, rescuing Xu Chuo, then escaping with the surviving soldiers while being pursued by Beixia’s main force. Fighting while retreating, they couldn’t even hold the previously captured Nanyang, losing most of it, until retreating near the Xiangyang area that the Xu family had managed for years, finally stabilizing their position and repelling Beixia’s pursuit.

This great defeat not only completely lost all previous Northern Expedition gains, but the Xu military command suffered heavy losses—over twenty deputy generals and above were killed, with soldier casualties and desertions exceeding half. Their strength was severely damaged, and facing Beixia’s fierce enemy forces, they were powerless for another direct confrontation.

Now Yang Xuan could only temporarily defend with remaining troops at the border between Xiangyang and Nanyang. Besides apologizing, he anxiously awaited news of Lu Jianzhi’s campaign.

Yang Xuan finally requested that when necessary, he be allowed to assess the situation, break out, and go aid Yan City, leading Lu Jianzhi to jointly retreat and preserve strength. The Northern Expedition plan could only be reconsidered later.

Otherwise, with Lu’s army isolated deep in Yuzhou, even if they finally captured Yan City, they would certainly be surrounded with a dangerous future.

Xu Mi tore up the battle report, his entire body shaking uncontrollably.

Just a few days ago, court officials were still discussing how Lu Jianzhi’s army attacking Yan City was proceeding smoothly, with Lu Guang quite pleased.

Xu Mi had also been fully expecting the Xu army to capture Yangzhai next.

Yang Xuan was a very methodical general who had never disappointed him before. Moreover, this time he was thoroughly prepared with ample troops and supplies, full of confidence.

Xu Mi had long known his son didn’t respect Yang Xuan. But he had never paid much attention, usually only offering a few words of guidance when he thought of it.

Just now, rereading his son’s letter and sensing his tone, he had suddenly realized that with the army now in the field, different from peacetime, if his son didn’t follow the commander’s orders, it might be detrimental to the fighting. So he had hurriedly written a letter intending to issue a strict order requiring his son to fully obey the commander’s deployment while abroad, with military law punishment for disobedience.

Never in his dreams had he imagined that just as he finished writing the letter, before he could send it out, the front had already delivered such a devastating defeat.

Xu Mi felt his throat both sweet and itchy, suddenly vomiting blood, his vision darkening as he collapsed.

The sound alarmed the steward outside.

Seeing his master vomiting blood and fallen, the steward hurriedly helped him up and rushed to call others.

Soon, Xu Mi’s confidants arrived one after another. Learning of the great military defeat, each wore grave expressions, remaining silent.

Xu Mi lay on the couch, slowly opening his eyes, suddenly pushing away a concubine who was feeding him ginseng soup, ordering all non-essential personnel to leave, then sitting up.

“Temporarily conceal this news from the court—no one is permitted to leak it!”

“Immediately convey my order—Yang Xuan is not to deploy a single soldier!”

He spoke word by word.

His advisors understood his thinking.

In this battle, the Xu army suffered heavy losses. Even if they regrouped, they lacked the strength to capture Luoyang again. At worst, even their old stronghold of Jing-Xiang might be in danger.

Xu Mi had lost heart for further fighting.

Though this Northern Expedition wasn’t over, defeat was certain.

If they proceeded according to Yang Xuan’s letter request—breaking out to aid Lu Jianzhi’s retreat—then the Lu family could still preserve most of their strength while the Xu family would suffer additional casualties.

The Xu and Lu families had no inseparable relationship to begin with, having trampled each other previously. They had only temporarily united to suppress common political enemies.

Such behavior was only human nature.

But simply abandoning the matter would violate their previous alliance, and court opinion might be unfavorable to the Xu family.

An advisor hesitated, then voiced his concerns quietly.

After resting awhile, though Xu Mi’s complexion remained ashen, his emotions had recovered.

“If it were Lu Guang, would he risk himself for my Xu family?”

“If the Northern Expedition fails, it fails—this isn’t the first time. Hasn’t Gao Qiao failed several times too? Who can blame me?”

“As for refusing aid…”

He laughed coldly: “Do they think those Jie soldiers still surrounding Nanyang are dead? Yang Xuan retreated all the way in defeat, barely able to protect himself. Being able to defend the last bit of captured Nanyang territory is already his utmost effort. He’s not divine—how could he sprout wings to escape difficulties and fly to Yan City to save that Lu family son?”

Everyone was enlightened by his words and nodded in agreement.

Xu Mi forced himself to rally, discussing response strategies with everyone through the night.

…

The Xu family study kept its lights burning through the night.

That same night, the Lu residence remained calm and peaceful, with everyone settled.

Except for night-duty servants, everyone in the Lu mansion had gone to sleep, completely unaware of the storm that had already descended upon them from a thousand li away.

Only one person was an exception—still not asleep so late.

Lu Huanzhi emerged from his own room and stealthily entered his elder brother’s courtyard across the wall. Familiar with the layout, he went directly to the inner chamber, stopping before the ancient qin placed on the qin table.

Lu Jianzhi treasured this ancient qin extremely. Before departing, he had not only placed it in its case and locked it, but covered it with cloth.

Lu Huanzhi stared at it fixedly for a moment, then slowly reached out, pulling away the covering cloth in one motion. Using a knife to pry open the qin case, he felt around for a while and indeed found beneath the qin the musical score he had glimpsed before.

The score was in reduced notation, already striving for simplicity, but a complete piece still took over ten pages, copied on porcelain-blue powder paper specially used in the palace, bound into a booklet with thread.

Moonlight filtered through the window, illuminating the few lines of writing on the title page.

“Hearing that elder brother lies ill in foreign lands with lingering illness, I was deeply moved and composed this piece. A thousand words are entrusted to this music, hoping elder brother will soon cast off worries and open his heart, for then everywhere will be vast seas and open skies. This piece is both an exhortation to you and self-encouragement for myself.”

The handwriting was elegant and extremely beautiful—clearly from a lady’s chamber.

Lu Huanzhi slowly turned through the following musical notation, staring at those familiar characters, his hands trembling slightly.

After finishing, he closed his eyes for a long time. Before him again appeared the scene of Li Mu protecting her as they departed, leaving him to public mockery. His entire body seemed to feel needle pricks again. He suddenly opened his eyes, gritting his teeth, trembling hands tearing off the title page and stuffing it randomly into his clothing. He closed the qin case, recovered it with the cloth, turned, and quickly fled under cover of night.

…

The next evening, the Qinhuai riverside south of Jiankang city blazed with lights. Brothels and wine houses stood in rows, with sounds of strings and bamboo instruments carried endlessly on the night wind.

In an elegant private room on the second floor of a brothel, over ten heavily made-up courtesans sat around, casting flirtatious glances at the young gentleman in the seat of honor.

Though this young gentleman wasn’t a regular customer, his dress and bearing clearly marked him as an aristocratic family scion.

Such places often saw powerful officials or family scions—the women were accustomed to it. Among the sisters, quite a few had previously been selected to enter residences as concubines or singing and dancing girls. But tonight’s customer seemed strange—summoning over ten sisters, all skilled in qin, yet he himself sat properly with his attendant, neither drinking nor speaking, his expression haughty as if disdaining such places. They couldn’t help being curious.

Among them, the eldest woman who appeared twenty-five or twenty-six, called Lü Niang, was pushed forward by the other women. Smiling, she said: “Young master, you’ve come to our establishment and summoned so many sisters, yet you neither drink nor make merry. Do you want us to sit with you in silence until dawn?”

After she spoke, the other women giggled.

Lu Huanzhi glanced at his attendant beside him.

The attendant understood, taking out a small cloth bag he carried, untying it and casually pouring out its contents. With a clattering sound, dozens of gold cakes scattered on the floor, glittering brilliantly.

The courtesans had never encountered such a generous customer. Overjoyed, they quickly kowtowed in thanks, all wanting to collect the gold coins, but heard the gentleman say: “Wait!”

Everyone knew he had something to say and stopped.

Lu Huanzhi said: “Miss Gao is skilled in music theory—you must all know this, right?”

The women were puzzled why he suddenly mentioned Miss Gao, but all nodded.

Every year when Jiankang held the Winding Water Banquet to entertain high officials and nobles, these courtesans were sometimes called to attend.

Lü Niang smiled: “How could we not know? I still remember a few years ago when she played xiao and qin in harmony with the Lu family’s eldest young master at the Winding Water Banquet—it sounded heavenly. I was fortunate to hear it personally and can’t forget it. But why does the young master suddenly mention her?”

Lu Huanzhi smiled: “What a coincidence. I happen to have a musical score written in her own hand. Would you like to see it?”

The women were delighted, gathering around to ask for it. When Lu Huanzhi produced the score, they competed to examine it.

Soon, the courtesan called Lü Niang sat behind the qin, playing from the score. After playing a section, she stopped and sighed: “Miss Gao truly lives up to her reputation for talent. I only roughly understand qin technique and don’t know what mood she was in when composing, but playing it feels like flowing clouds and water, sincere and moving. I like it very much.”

Lu Huanzhi said: “This score has a name—’Phoenix and Phoenix Calling.’ It was specially composed last year in March after the Winding Water Banquet and sent to the Lu family’s eldest young master thousands of li away.”

The women were stunned.

Having suddenly heard that Miss Gao’s personally composed music had appeared, they had been delighted, only wanting to see it, temporarily not thinking of anything else.

Now hearing the score’s name and this gentleman’s explanation, they all came to their senses.

The so-called “Phoenix and Phoenix Calling” naturally expressed romantic longing between man and woman.

When Miss Gao married Li Mu, it had caused a sensation throughout the city.

That Li Mu, though from humble origins, bore the name of Southern Dynasty war god. His recapture of Chang’an from barbarians and return to the capital just two days ago was known to all. The courtesans naturally knew this too.

From this young gentleman’s meaning, Miss Gao, even after marrying Li Mu, still couldn’t forget the Lu family’s eldest son, even secretly exchanging romantic feelings and maintaining private affection.

The women fell silent.

Lu Huanzhi said: “I want you to play this everywhere starting tomorrow, spreading it as quickly as possible. Wherever there is music, this should be heard. All these gold cakes are yours!”

The women looked at each other, no one responding.

Lu Huanzhi glanced at his attendant again. The attendant threw out another bag of gold cakes.

Lu Huanzhi looked at the courtesans whose eyes were slowly brightening, a contemptuous cold smile playing at his lips.

“You needn’t be afraid. I don’t need you to say anything—just help me spread the music. I’ll arrange everything else myself. Even if Li Mu truly comes looking, you just say you obtained the score by chance and know nothing else. What can he do to you?”

“Moreover, once it spreads, with hundreds of establishments in Jiankang and thousands of courtesans all playing it, who would know it first came from your place?”

The dozen or so women before him still said nothing, all looking at the woman called Lü Niang.

Lü Niang remained silent.

Lu Huanzhi waited a moment, his expression gradually darkening, snorting coldly: “If you’re unwilling, I’ll find others. You’re not the only qin-skilled courtesans on the Qinhuai!”

One courtesan showed anxiety, quickly saying: “I’m willing!” She knelt down to collect the gold cakes before her.

Before her hand touched them, the gold cakes were kicked away by an embroidered shoe from behind.

The courtesan on the ground turned back to see Lü Niang with raised eyebrows, angrily saying: “Have you never seen money? Are your eyes so shallow? You dare take anything from just anyone?”

This Lü Niang was quite famous along the Qinhuai, with outstanding qin skills, many patrons, and many disciples. This courtesan was one of them.

Seeing her anger, the woman shrank back, hurriedly withdrawing her hand.

Only then did Lü Niang look at Lu Huanzhi, placing the musical score back and pushing it toward him, saying coldly: “Young master, I don’t know what grievance you have with General Li, nor do I care where you got this score or whether what you say is true or false. I only know that General Li defeated barbarians for us Southern Dynasty people and recaptured Chang’an—he’s a hero of the Southern Dynasty! Though we were born lowly and fallen into the world of dust, we Southern Dynasty people still retain some conscience!”

She glanced at the gold cakes on the floor with slight contempt in her voice.

“Don’t say it’s just these things—even if you brought mountains of gold and silver, you couldn’t make me, Lü Niang, do such a thing!”

After she spoke, the other women nodded in agreement, and even the courtesan who had been collecting gold cakes showed shame and dared not raise her head.

Lu Huanzhi’s face alternated between red and white. He stared at Lü Niang, nodded, picked up the musical score, rose and turned to leave.

His attendant hurriedly collected the gold cakes from the floor, resentfully saying to Lü Niang “Just wait and see,” then turned to quickly follow.

After chasing only a few steps, he suddenly stopped, stunned.

He saw Lu Huanzhi’s figure frozen at the doorway of the private room.

Outside the door stood a man whose silhouette was cast by a row of dark red lanterns on the corridor side into a grave black outline.

The man’s eyes were deep, staring at Lu Huanzhi, blocking his path.

The attendant recognized him immediately—it was Li Mu, who had returned to Jiankang only days ago!

Behind him stood Li Xie, the former Commander of the Palace Guard who had been promoted to oversee Jiankang’s arsenal and city defense.

Li Xie stepped forward, smiling at the dumbstruck Lu Huanzhi: “Young Master Lu, I happened to come here for entertainment and was delighted to see you here too, so I invited Prefect Li to join us for some fun together. You won’t blame me for meddling, will you?”