After Di Yiwei finished eating and drinking, she rubbed her stomach, feeling somewhat bloated. She was puzzled. Due to her stomach ailment, she had always been moderate in eating—a habit formed from frequently being on battlefields. She hadn’t eaten much today, so why did she feel uncomfortable?

Fortunately, this feeling disappeared after a while. She didn’t pay it much mind and returned to her tent to write a letter. She sealed it with her most secret private seal and summoned her trusted guard, instructing him to travel day and night to Western Rong to deliver the letter to Tie Ci.

The trusted guard took the letter and hid it carefully, immediately leaving the camp and rushing toward Mount Fu, then crossing the border from there.

The moment he crossed Mount Fu and stepped into Western Rong territory, a squad suddenly rushed out from behind and threw him to the ground. Someone searched out the secret letter from his body and shouted loudly: “He really was going to deliver a message to the Western Rong people! The commander is colluding with Western Rong!”

A crowd surged forward, many of them military officers from the army. Everyone recognized him and looked at him and the letter in his hands with expressions of surprise.

Supervisor Huang also appeared, with a regretful expression, saying: “When I heard the secret report, I still didn’t believe it. Commander Di is a pillar of the nation—how could she collude with Western Rong? Although her recent frequent troop movements were somewhat suspicious, I never thought of this matter… what is this… what is this…” He shook his head with clicking sounds.

The trusted guard vaguely understood he had fallen into a trap, and the commander had fallen in too. He cried out in despair: “No! This isn’t a letter of collusion! This is for Ye…”

He suddenly shut his mouth. His heart filled with terror, his whole body trembling, because he suddenly remembered that the mission of Ye Ci and the others was extremely secret—except for a limited two or three people, no one knew about it at all.

And for a general to betray the country and collaborate with enemies—what a terrifying charge that was!

“This is a secret letter for someone executing a mission in Western Rong! Not a letter of collaboration with enemies!”

The letter was snatched away. Huang Ming said with a grin: “Whether it is or not, let’s have someone examine it.”

The trusted guard watched the letter being taken away, hope rising in his heart. Perhaps these people had no malicious intent? Perhaps they truly just received false accusations and wanted to verify?

When he left, he had promised the commander that no matter what, he would protect this letter and never let anyone get close to it.

The commander had smiled and said it didn’t matter if this letter was seen—it contained nothing important, and more importantly, it couldn’t be understood even if read.

Since that was the case, taking the letter away should be fine, right?

…

The person who took the letter walked toward a low civilian house where someone was waiting. He received the letter and saw the almost completely blank paper—there were no words on it at all, only some twisted and intertwined floral borders at the bottom.

Huang Ming, who had followed in with high hopes, took a look and his grinning face immediately became vicious: “How can there be no words? Damn it! Could it be using medicine water? Should we soak it in water?”

That person said indifferently: “Soak it, and this letter will most likely be ruined. Don’t forget, what we really need is her private seal. What does it matter what she writes?”

Huang Ming suddenly understood. Yes, the order he received was to find a way to obtain a letter bearing Di Yiwei’s private seal, to forge evidence of her collaboration with enemies. After all, a great general collaborating with enemies and corresponding privately could never use the official seal kept with the secretary—only a private seal that could prove personal identity would be used.

A person of Di Yiwei’s stature wouldn’t easily use her private seal. In all these years at Yongping Army, few people had seen it.

The War Department’s historical archives did have several of her letters bearing her private seal, but the War Minister was a stubborn old man who had even received favors from He Zi in the past. He guarded the War Department strictly, making it impossible for anyone to steal letters to forge the private seal.

Finally encountering this opportunity of her sending a letter to Western Rong, even without words, having the private seal was enough. Because there was someone here who could write in her hand.

The person sitting at the broken table slowly studied that blank paper for a long time. Huang Ming, sticking out his big belly, said: “What’s wrong, can’t bear to part with your commander? If you ask me, only by doing this will the commander truly be yours. Otherwise, with her lofty ambitions, when would she ever think of starting a family?”

The man stared at him again. Huang Ming smiled and raised his hand: “I swear on my life and property…”

The wind slammed the wooden door shut heavily. Through gaps in the broken window, one could see someone with head lowered, grinding ink and wielding a brush.

Soon, Huang Ming emerged with two letters—one already filled with words (the original), and another with content matching the original letter.

A squad of guards in bright armor had long been waiting in the wind and snow.

Huang Ming put away his smile, handed the forged letter to a messenger dressed as a Yongping soldier, and ordered him to continue delivering it to Western Rong. The other original letter with added content was placed in a box, sealed with fire wax, and handed to a guard.

“Immediately present this to the capital. Eight hundred li urgent dispatch—change horses but not riders. No stops at post stations or inns are permitted. You must deliver this to the Empress Dowager and Eunuch Li in the shortest possible time!”

“Yes!”

…

Chi Xue looked up to see Cui Shi standing before her. Her heart sank. It seemed he had indeed seen her earlier.

Cui Shi gave her a long bow. He was even paler now, thin as a willow branch. Combined with his lame leg, his body was somewhat crooked, so he deliberately adopted a swaying posture like a weak willow in the wind, thinking himself graceful and elegant. In her eyes, however, he looked like a pale, slimy slug.

Soft and sticky, disgusting. Yet his sinister smile and the way he looked at people with slanted eyes reminded her of a poisonous snake hiding in grass.

She keenly sensed that Cui Shi was very different from his time at the academy. His narrowed eyes curved like a bridge, with the other side of the bridge connecting to a hell of venom.

She stepped back, but smiled on her face, saying with surprise: “Young Master Cui.”

Cui Shi looked at her and said in a thin voice: “I didn’t expect to see Miss here.” He looked around. “Then presumably, the Crown Princess is also at Yongping?”

Chi Xue smiled: “Young Master Cui, I heard you came with Supervisor Huang? You’ve been here for some time—have you seen the Crown Princess?”

Cui Shi fell silent, then said: “The academy students are all absent. Could they have followed the Crown Princess to secret training camps?”

“You jest, Young Master. The academy students are all scholars. Scholars come to military camps merely for experience. Such precious talents—where would they really need to go to battlefields? If not going to battlefields, why would they need secret training? Not to mention someone of my master’s status—what would she train for?”

Cui Shi found this reasonable and couldn’t figure it out for a moment, so he asked Chi Xue softly: “Then where has your Crown Princess gone? I was confused before and offended her. Now that I’ve reformed, whenever I think of this matter, I always feel regretful in my heart, wanting to seek the Crown Princess’s forgiveness in person.”

“I’m afraid I must disappoint you, Young Master,” Chi Xue said. “Our Crown Princess didn’t come to Yongping.”

“Then why are you here? I’ve never heard of servants being allowed to leave their masters privately.”

Chi Xue suddenly bowed down to Cui Shi: “Please save my life, Young Master!”

Cui Shi was startled and hurriedly stepped forward to help her up: “Why are you kneeling for no reason? Get up quickly, get up!”

His thin fingers touched Chi Xue’s hand. Chi Xue only felt those fingers were ice-cold with unusually long nails, like several snakes suddenly crawling onto her.

She suppressed the goosebumps rising all over her body, lowered her head, and sobbed: “I… I’m sorry to my master… I… I eloped with someone…”

Cui Shi had been thinking this girl was generous and beautiful, even her hands were soft and smooth, making his heart itch. Suddenly hearing this, he was stunned.

He said: “Escaped slaves, when discovered, face death.”

Chi Xue kowtowed repeatedly: “So please have mercy on this servant, Young Master!”

“That’s not right,” Cui Shi said. “You’re the Crown Princess’s servant, a palace maid with rank, aren’t you? Someone of your status running away would implicate nine generations of family. Besides, why would a perfectly good head palace maid become an escaped slave?”

“This servant has no nine generations… this servant has no real rank either… this servant didn’t want to run originally, but the wretch I fell for—he’s from Liaodong. The Crown Princess said he was a Liaodong spy, approaching this servant only to gather information, and wouldn’t let me see him… Actually, what good place is it beside the Crown Princess? Even following her, I might not have a good ending…”

Cui Shi again found this very reasonable. So what if the Crown Princess was more outstanding than legend said? The more outstanding she was, the faster she’d die.

“Then where did the Crown Princess go?”

“She went to Huaiqing Prefecture to meet with local officials there.”

Huaiqing Prefecture was indeed one of the academy’s three major training locations—Cui Shi knew this.

“Then how did you end up in the military camp?”

“I… my friend said we’d take the route to Liaodong from here. Who knew that recently, all roads to Liaodong have been blocked by Yongping Army? He simply brought me to find odd jobs in Yongping Army, saying once we got familiar, we could obtain exit passes…”

Cui Shi laughed: “Your friend—could he really be a Liaodong spy?”

Chi Xue lowered her head and said nothing.

Cui Shi looked her up and down. His doubts remained, but his gaze couldn’t help lingering on her slender waist and full hips.

In the past, her master’s reputation was too prominent, making people overlook that this maid also had good looks.

“Where is your man?”

Chi Xue blushed and waved toward the distance. Far away in the miscellaneous duties camp, Zhao San, who was idling his days away, saw her and happily waved back.

Only then did Cui Shi somewhat believe her.

Chi Xue continued pleading with him in low voices for secrecy. He held up his chin, smiling without speaking.

Originally intending to immediately tell Huang Ming about this, he now had other thoughts.

Observe for a few days to see whether the Crown Princess was really here or not. If not, perhaps he could still…

Chi Xue kept her head down, sensing his killing intent gradually fade, and breathed a sigh of relief.

The only thing she knew how to use was poison. Unless absolutely necessary, she didn’t want to act rashly.

Cui Shi neither agreed nor disagreed with Chi Xue’s pleas, saying: “Come to my tent tomorrow night. I have important matters to ask you.”

Chi Xue secretly gritted her teeth but lowered her head and agreed.

Cui Shi wasn’t finished yet. He picked up the soup beside him that had already gone cold: “Just seeing you, I ladled you a bowl of soup. Drink it.”

Chi Xue looked up, staring at that bowl of mutton soup. The grease in the soup had already congealed into flaky white layers.

As disgusting as this person.

She was silent for a moment, then smiled charmingly, took the soup, and drank it all in one go.

…

Snow fell that day. The snowflakes in Western Rong seemed larger than those in Da Qian, somewhat like “Yanshan snowflakes big as mats.” Flying snow rushed from beyond the mountain passes, rolling like river tides, covering the ground in a layer in the blink of an eye.

Huyin had pitched her army in a valley sheltered from wind, where the earth’s warmth was relatively mild. Even in heavy snow, soldiers continued drilling, their shouting carrying from afar.

Tie Ci stood at the tent entrance, breathing in the crisp air. Her heart felt inexplicably restless.

On the day Eagle Lord and Huyin joined forces, the two had hidden in a tent talking for half the day. When they emerged, both wore businesslike expressions, publicly announcing they had formed an alliance to eliminate the eldest prince, drive away Qiu Wujiu, and avenge the Wuliang and Mote clans.

Tie Ci felt that helping the Western Rong people emerge from the desert should be sufficient. She already understood Western Rong’s situation clearly and could roughly guess subsequent developments. As long as she maintained contact with and attention to this army, she would complete this mission.

She always felt somewhat uneasy in her heart, fearing something might happen at Yongping Garrison.

But Eagle Lord told her that the great battle hadn’t yet begun—to truly control the situation, entering the royal city was the only way.

Tie Ci knew in her heart that what he said was correct. Additionally, she wanted to know what had happened with the spies here, so she could only suppress her impatience and stay.

Yesterday Huyin had convened a meeting of generals, which she also attended. Huyin’s subordinates were very mixed—escaped royal army soldiers, her own tribal troops, armies originally loyal to the old king who didn’t get along with the eldest prince, and female soldiers. The female soldiers had dedicated female generals who sat alongside the male commanders, all carefully listening to Huyin speak above.

Tie Ci admired Huyin in her heart. Western Rong’s neglect of women was even worse than Da Qian’s, as could be seen from Dan Ye’s paintings from before. For Huyin to be able to integrate such a group of people and command them steadily must have required tremendous effort.

The tent meeting decided to take advantage of Eagle Lord’s army having just emerged from the desert, before all sides received news, to launch a surprise night attack in the snow, disguised as the eldest prince’s army, attacking Qiu Wujiu.

Currently within Western Rong territory, aside from various tribes taking advantage of the chaos to become independent, the main military forces were three groups: Qiu Wujiu, the eldest prince, and the Huyin coalition.

Whichever group Huyin’s army faced, they would very likely be surrounded by the other side.

This was also why Huyin had been accumulating strength, restraining eager-to-fight generals, and never starting war.

She wanted to wait until her strength was sufficient to defeat the eldest prince’s army surrounding the desert, join with Eagle Lord, then make her move.

But maintaining troops without action wasn’t something everyone could patiently endure. Long waiting would drain morale and affect timing.

Fortunately, Eagle Lord emerged in time. Now he would go muddy the waters, and Qiu Wujiu would be led around by the nose.

Eagle Lord would launch surprise attacks while Huyin led a team to raid Qiu Wujiu’s rear, cutting off his communication channels with Liaodong.

Qiu Wujiu was very skilled at gathering information. He had sent out large numbers of scouts to monitor the movements of all armed forces within Western Rong territory. His scouts might be ordinary soldiers or nearby civilians—difficult to eliminate entirely.

So how to leave the main camp without being discovered was a problem.

Thus Feiyu returned to the desert once more to invite Chen Tuntian.

To negotiate with Chen Tuntian, Rong Pu even offered a good formula for raising scorpions.

With great battle imminent, the kitchens were cooking large pots of mutton soup.

Feiyu pulled Tie Ci to build snowmen. Tie Ci built a Feiyu with jingling ornaments, and Feiyu built a heroic and spirited Tie Ci.

Looking at their own creations, both laughed heartily.

Tie Ci found a piece of carrot to dot cherry-small lips on Feiyu’s snowman when suddenly the back of her neck felt cold—a snowball hit her, broken snow pattering into her collar.

Tie Ci brushed off the snowball and turned to see Feiyu not far away smiling at her. She suddenly remembered that from childhood to adulthood, she had never played in snow.

In her memories, when very small, Consort Jing had held her under the corridor eaves watching snow.

Later, after being made Crown Princess, snow would always be cleared from paths she traveled.

Later still, when she secretly took a master, even on snowy days she practiced martial arts in the snow. The bone-piercing cold remained unforgettably etched in memory.

If not practicing martial arts, then studying. Snow fell quietly under corridor eaves while she never had time to look up for even a glance.

The imperial city had been covered in snow countless times, each time passing her by.

Not just that snow, but also romantic moments, human warmth—those times when other children wrapped in thick cloaks played everywhere were, for her, only tall document cases and sweat-drenched past experiences.

She bent down, gathered a snowball, and hurled it hard at Feiyu.

The snowball brushed past his temple hair and exploded in white fluff against a dead tree.

Feiyu wasn’t one to let anyone off easy. He bent down and dug in the ground for a long time without Chi Xue seeing him produce a snowball. Just when she wondered what he was doing—making a fire to cook?—she suddenly saw him straighten up, actually holding a huge snowball as big as Tie Ci’s head.

Tie Ci laughed in alarm and ran for her life, with Feiyu chasing behind holding the snowball.

Both had astonishing speed. In the snow, they chased and fled, circling several times in the blink of an eye. Feiyu never managed to throw that huge snowball, but was hit by several of Tie Ci’s opportunistic snowballs. His black clothes were stained with patches of white, making him look at first glance like a thin panda.

He didn’t care, enduring Tie Ci’s machine-gun-like snowball barrage while constantly approaching. Finally, with a wolf-like pounce, he brought that huge snowball and tackled her down on the hillside.

Taking advantage of Tie Ci laughing too hard to get up, he quickly sat on her and gathered surrounding snow to pile on her back, laughing: “Now we plant one Ye Shiba, next year we’ll harvest eighteen Ye Shibas…”

After the two had played for quite a while, they lay in the snow panting. Tie Ci only felt her face and hands, rubbed by snow, burned like fire. She thought with sudden realization that snow, when held long enough, actually became hot.

Feiyu sat up, his long hair scattered from the play. He raised his hand to casually tie it up.

Tie Ci suddenly said: “Don’t move. Let me comb it for you.”

Feiyu immediately stopped.

Tie Ci took a small comb from her bosom and sat behind him to comb his hair.

Feiyu’s hair was raven-black like crow feathers, with a deep luster. The comb could slide slowly down when placed on it.

Tie Ci gently straightened his disheveled hair.

Feiyu turned his head to smile at her, wanting to say something to her. Tie Ci gently patted his shoulder, and he smiled and stopped moving.

Hair combed, twisted into a topknot, Tie Ci’s sleeve drooped and a hairpin slid out from her sleeve. She gently pinned it in his hair.

Deep red xiangsi wood, with fine, dense grain faintly gleaming gold. The tail end had delicate feather patterns, carved following the natural lines into gorgeous tail feathers, while the front end had smooth lines shaped like a bird with raised neck and spread wings in flight.

The entire hairpin was graceful and lively, with natural charm and rhythm.

It perfectly matched Feiyu as a person.

This was precisely that hairpin that was almost becoming legendary, the one Xiao Wenliu couldn’t stop thinking about.

Tie Ci had searched thousands of li for fine wood, personally designed and carved it, keeping it in her bosom from Dongming to Yongping, like carrying a wonderful expectation and secret.

She had never given it away—not because she didn’t want to, but because she didn’t want to give it too quickly. It was like cherishing feelings, always hoping the moment of presenting it could be more solemn, then more solemn still.

Yet just as one doesn’t know when love begins, giving it away also didn’t require much buildup. Her heart moved, seeing the vast snowy earth after snow, with him half-turning his head in front of her, waiting for hair combing with nothing to do, unconsciously molding small snowballs with his fingers, each small snowball carved to look like her.

Her hairpin seemed to grow legs of its own and run to his hair.

She lowered her hands.

The movement of pinning the hairpin was very light—she thought he hadn’t noticed.

He seemed not to have noticed either, not turning back, smiling as he watched soldiers drilling below.

Tie Ci sat cross-legged behind him, together watching iron armor’s blue light reflecting frost and snow below, watching heaven and earth uniformly white, watching farther at the horizon where distant mountains wore plain clothes and the long river was frozen.

This is the landscape you and I gaze upon together.

This is the place I want to guard with you for our entire lives.

…