On the way back to the government office, Jiang Zhiyi listened as Pei Zisong told her about the information he had gathered from local officials while searching for Prefect Zhu.

It turned out that Zhu Fengyuan had only been appointed as the prefect of Xingzhou last year. His predecessor had been dismissed and punished for suspicion of treason after harboring bandits to strengthen his position. Wei Ji had expected to be promoted to the position, but Zhu Fengyuan had suddenly been appointed instead. Zhu was unwilling to delegate authority, gradually reducing Wei Ji’s role as second-in-command to one of title only. This had bred discontent in Wei Ji from early on, likely creating an opening for Hedong to exploit and buy his loyalty.

Recalling the state of Prefect Zhu and his wife and daughter’s bodies, Jiang Zhiyi closed her eyes and ordered the three corpses to be properly prepared for a decent burial after the battle.

Upon arriving at the government office, Jiang Zhiyi was helped down from the carriage by Jing Zhe. Before she could change out of her blood-stained dress, she heard that Marshal Cao had matters to report, so she and Pei Zisong hurried to the main hall.

A middle-aged man of about thirty turned his head at the sound of their footsteps. He was about to step forward when his eyes fell on Jiang Zhiyi’s face. He froze, staring at her as if in a trance.

Jiang Zhiyi was also taken aback, puzzled by his fixed gaze. She tilted her head to look at Pei Zisong beside her.

Pei Zisong stepped forward, positioning himself in front of Jiang Zhiyi: “What does Marshal Cao wish to report?”

Cao Chen suddenly came to his senses, bowing with cupped hands: “This official is Cao Chen, paying respects to the Princess and Young Master Pei. Only one-tenth of the provisions in the western granary were salvaged. Half of the grain in the city’s other granary was dispatched to the south in the sixth month, and under Secretary Wei’s urging, another portion was distributed to refugees. Only thirty percent remains, which must also feed the refugees in the city. This official believes our urgent priority is to prepare supplies before disaster strikes. Therefore, I have come to ask the Princess if we should requisition resources from the city’s residents at daybreak—not just food rations, but also iron implements, knives and other equipment, lime, lamp oil, and other household items. This official also wishes to employ ‘golden liquid.'”

Jiang Zhiyi and Pei Zisong could capture spies and boost morale, but they relied on local officials for specific matters. They hadn’t yet considered the details Cao Chen mentioned.

Hearing the familiar term “golden liquid,” Jiang Zhiyi’s mind briefly wandered, recalling the siege warfare demonstration she had observed at the Xuan Ce military camp in April.

After that demonstration, she had asked Shen Yuance about it. She learned that if “golden liquid” was made by smelting gold, silver, copper, and iron, its destructive power would be greater, but these materials were precious and scarce, difficult to gather. Usually, inexpensive and readily available sewage was used as a substitute.

“As a senior official of the prefecture, Marshal Cao may now perform the duties of the prefect. Feel free to handle these matters as you see fit,” Pei Zisong answered on Jiang Zhiyi’s behalf.

From behind Pei Zisong, Jiang Zhiyi added: “I’ve heard that adding gold, silver, copper, and iron to the ‘golden liquid’ makes it more powerful when smelted. I have gold and silver items with me that I can send to the military camp shortly. There must also be wealthy households in the city—could we requisition some from them as well?”

Cao Chen raised his eyes in surprise, as if amazed that she understood such matters. He quickly replied: “There are indeed wealthy clan households in the city, but requisitioning from them might face obstacles. After all, these are their livelihoods. If the requisition fails, it might instead trigger civil unrest…”

Jiang Zhiyi waved her hand: “Don’t worry about that. I’ll have IOUs prepared with my seal. For anyone who donates valuable items, we’ll record the value. Whatever they contribute today, they can receive double from me after the battle. The Princess may not have much else, but money is truly something I have no shortage of!”

Pei Zisong: “…”

Cao Chen: “…”

“With the Princess’s generous support, this can certainly be accomplished. This official will make arrangements immediately.” Cao Chen took his leave.

After Cao Chen left the main hall, Jiang Zhiyi asked Pei Zisong, “Do you think this Marshal Cao is reliable?”

Pei Zisong reflected: “He acts with experience and is extremely meticulous. Tonight, when news of Prefect Zhu’s disappearance arrived, his first reaction was to confirm whether the prefect’s seal was missing. Upon learning the granary had been burned, his first response was to send people to check if the arsenal had been compromised. I heard that after the previous prefect was dismissed, he led the effort to eliminate local bandits, though he never claimed credit. Officially, the achievements and merits all belonged to Prefect Zhu… Overall, he seems reliable for now, but…”

After the experience with Wei Ji, both Pei Zisong and Jiang Zhiyi were somewhat paranoid. After all, they had initially thought Wei Ji seemed trustworthy, too.

Pei Zisong lowered his eyes to look at Jiang Zhiyi: “Marshal Cao was looking at you strangely. Let me deal with him. Now that both the prefect and secretary are gone, you should remain at the government office while I accompany Marshal Cao outside. You’ve already done all you can—get some good sleep.”

At the words “get some sleep,” the fatigue that had been held at bay all night surged through her body like a tide. Jiang Zhiyi’s willpower, which she had been maintaining with such effort, collapsed. Squinting her eyes, she nodded.

Dragging her heavy feet back to the rear courtyard, Jiang Zhiyi was helped by Jing Zhe to change out of her blood-stained dress. She walked to the washstand to clean her hands.

The basin contained clear water, but as she looked at it, it seemed to turn into thick blood with a severed head soaking in it.

Jiang Zhiyi jerked her hands back and hastily retreated, staring at the basin while breathing heavily.

“What’s wrong, Princess?” Jing Zhe was startled.

The crimson vision before her eyes disappeared, leaving just an ordinary washbasin.

Jiang Zhiyi’s eyelashes trembled as she shook her head to indicate nothing was wrong: “It’s just a bit—” Before she could finish, she turned and leaned against the stand, beginning to retch.

Jing Zhe hurriedly patted her back to comfort her.

Her stomach was empty. Jiang Zhiyi heaved several times, bringing up only a few mouthfuls of acidic fluid.

Jing Zhe handed her a cup of hot tea with a pained expression. Though the Princess hadn’t cried, Jing Zhe felt like crying herself. To intimidate wavering soldiers, beheading had been necessary, and the Princess couldn’t show weakness to demonstrate her resolve. Only now could she finally release this bitterness.

Jiang Zhiyi took the hot tea, holding it in her palms. She rinsed her mouth and gradually regained her composure.

“Princess, are you alright?” Jing Zhe looked at her face, which was as white as paper.

“He’s not here, so I can’t afford to be unwell…”

Jiang Zhiyi raised her eyes to look through the window toward the northwest. The night was deep, dawn had not yet arrived—truly a long, long night.

The words she had spoken at the military camp tonight seemed confident, but she hadn’t dared to add a time limit.

San Qi had told her that Xuan Ce cavalry, with multiple horses per soldier and abandoning heavy equipment, could travel at most three hundred li in a day and night. But that was for a single day and night—it would be impossible to maintain such a pace without rest for three consecutive days and nights.

So, even if Shen Yuance had received orders on the very day the capital fell into danger, the thousand-some li from Guzang to Xingyang would take at least six days.

Six days would already cost the loss of seventy to eighty percent of the troops through falling behind or attrition. This meant that if ten thousand cavalry set out from Guzang, at most only three thousand would reach Xingyang within six days.

Moreover, the Xuan Ce Army couldn’t possibly receive orders that quickly.

She believed he would rush to her with all his might, but with mountains and rivers between them, the journey was long. The days she and Xingyang would have to hold out… would probably be many more.

The following afternoon, Jiang Zhiyi was awakened by the long blast of a battle horn. She sat up abruptly on her bed.

Her ears were buzzing, and for a moment, she couldn’t tell if she was in a dream or reality, because in this sleep, Jiang Zhiyi had already had such dreams too many times.

While she was in a daze, Jing Zhe’s voice sounded from the outer room, seemingly asking San Qi “how many troops.”

Jiang Zhiyi came to her senses and threw off her blanket: “Are the rebels attacking?”

Hearing her voice, Jing Zhe quickly entered: “Princess, it seems neighboring prefectures have fallen, allowing the rebels to free up troops to concentrate against us. Currently, about twenty thousand soldiers are attacking the south gate.”

Jiang Zhiyi’s face turned pale as she steadied herself against the bedpost.

“Don’t worry, Princess. San Qi says Marshal Cao has experience defending cities. From last night until today, he has led preparations, and we should be able to withstand the attack.”

Jiang Zhiyi pressed her lips together and nodded. She quickly dressed and washed, hurriedly ate a few bites, then left the wing room for the front courtyard to take command at the government office.

Pei Zisong had gone out with local officials to inventory resources, leaving her alone to wait here today.

Perhaps because the south gate was close to the government office, or perhaps because the enemy forces had doubled, she could now hear the battle cries from the city walls. The water in the teacup beside her hand rippled much more violently than last night.

Jiang Zhiyi closed her eyes, listening to the sounds like roaring tidal waves. She felt as if she were on a small boat, her heart surging up and down, never finding solid ground.

The sun slowly moved from directly overhead toward the west, but the battle cries continued to shake heaven and earth.

As the golden crow descended in the west, several footsteps sounded. Jiang Zhiyi suddenly opened her eyes to see San Qi entering with several Xuan Ce soldiers stationed at the government office.

“How is the battle?” Jiang Zhiyi stood up to ask.

San Qi removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm. Sweat poured down his head like rain as he caught his breath: “Young Mistress, the rebels were severely damaged by us yesterday. The reinforcements that arrived today are especially fierce in battle. Currently, both sides are at a stalemate. To reduce our losses, I want to feint in the east and attack in the west—lead troops out from the north gate for a surprise attack to disrupt the enemy’s formation. The few men left here with you are skilled in ambush tactics. I’ve come to discuss strategy with them and also to ask your permission to join the battle.”

“Are you confident?” Jiang Zhiyi frowned as she looked at San Qi, pointing to the table. Discuss first. If you’re confident, then go.”

The men spread out a map and huddled together to discuss.

“Going through this water gate is the fastest.”

“But if a team strikes out from here, there’s no retreat path.”

“Can we send scouts to reconnoiter the enemy situation in this area?”

“No, it’s a blind spot.”

“What about tying ropes and going down the city wall to scout?”

“It’s not dark yet—the target would be too obvious.”

Jiang Zhiyi listened to their back-and-forth, trying to understand their meaning. The final problem seemed to be that scouts couldn’t ensure the enemy situation in a certain blind spot, making the plan somewhat risky.

As the discussion reached an impasse, someone sighed: “If only ‘Thorny Bamboo’ were here…”

The men raised their heads in the ensuing silence, a light kindling in their somber eyes, their faces showing yearning.

Suddenly, someone asked hopefully: “Could ‘Thorny Bamboo’ be with our troops?”

Jiang Zhiyi, listening to their strange conversation, asked with confusion: “Don’t you know who is and isn’t in your own troops?”

A soldier answered: “Young Mistress, ‘Thorny Bamboo’ is the most skilled scout in our Xuan Ce Army. There’s no enemy information he can’t gather. But scouts don’t reveal their true appearance or share their names openly. We only know his code name, and only a few have seen him—even then, only while he was wearing a mask. So…”

San Qi sighed: “Thorny Bamboo isn’t with the troops. If he were, we would have won this battle already. Let’s think of another way.”

Jiang Zhiyi observed San Qi’s knowledgeable demeanor and caught his eye, blinking at him.

San Qi seemed to understand her question and nodded to her.

The character “ce” can be divided into two parts: with “bamboo” at the top and two “foot” characters forming “thorny.” Thorny Bamboo—every joint has thorns, can be broken to make bows, and when planted, can block ten thousand soldiers.

This scout, revered among them like a deity, was Shen Yuance—his identity in the Xuan Ce Army before he turned eighteen.

Listening to another round of fighting from the city walls, not knowing how many more had fallen, Jiang Zhiyi gently closed her moist eyes.

She wasn’t the only one thinking of him.

They all missed him, missed him deeply.