Mid-July of the third year of Zhiming, the day before the Ghost Festival.
Mirror-Breaking City, fifty li north of Yong Ping, had basically been completed after nearly two years of construction.
This city was the most unique city to date, inhabited by people from two nations, using two currencies, two languages, two customs, two administrative systems, and even two architectural styles. In every detail of this great city, one could feel the exquisite refinement belonging to Great Qian and the magnificent grandeur of Great Feng—incompatible yet creating a wonderful harmony.
Because of these differences, it was destined to become a historical legend. But strangely, the two nations, especially Great Qian, had not devoted much attention to this city. Apart from timely allocations of money and materials, the court had never sent any ministers to inspect or supervise construction.
As the city neared completion, no word had been heard of any important figures from either nation planning to personally visit and inspect this trading city that both nations had invested most heavily in over the past two years.
However, there were rumors that Great Qian’s Emperor was currently on a northern tour, heading toward Yong Ping, though still far from Yong Ping—probably too late for the city’s completion ceremony.
As for Great Feng’s Emperor, his health was reportedly poor, so naturally he couldn’t make such a long journey here.
Great Qian’s Manager Yang, who oversaw city construction, and Great Feng’s Manager Zhao San, after consultation, seeing that the completion day coincided with the Ghost Festival, decided to fire cannons from the city walls on Ghost Festival day to open the city. Visiting merchants and city residents could cover their faces with masks and freely enjoy themselves in the city.
As for security concerns, there was no need to worry. The city already had garrisons from both nations, and hearing of Mirror-Breaking City’s opening, Di Yiwei’s forces had also stationed nearby to guard and watch the excitement.
On Ghost Festival day, sunlight shot into the tent early.
Qi Yuansi, who rarely got a day off, was sleeping soundly when someone burst in. The intruder brought washwater, green salt, combs, and other toiletries, quickly hauling him from his blankets. Before Qi Yuansi could resist, a steaming hot towel was slapped over his face, nearly suffocating him.
When he struggled out of the towel with steam rising from his head, a cup of clear water was already at his lips, and a toothbrush was gently but firmly stuffed into his mouth, once again blocking his protests.
After confusedly brushing his teeth and rinsing three times, the cup with half the water remaining was carefully taken away—the remaining half cup was just enough for washing his face.
Using the minimal water to wash every corner of his face as efficiently as possible, breakfast was also served: mutton pancakes with spicy soup. There was no clear tea he loved drinking in the capital, because someone had said tea wasted water.
His washwater was carried out to water the vegetable garden later.
Having been tormented countless times, Qi Yuansi had grown accustomed to this deep-rooted water conservation philosophy.
The snow mountain water diversion project was actually proceeding smoothly. Soon large amounts of water would be channeled into Hanli Khan Desert. But having stayed here over four years, Qi Yuansi had seen too much hunger and thirst. He had seen people completely dried up, dying of thirst. He had seen someone steal his washcloth simply because he had used it to wash his face—the child squeezed water from the cloth and swallowed it greedily with his head tilted back.
For the first time, pampered young master Qi Yuansi from the capital was shocked into long silence.
For the first time, he learned that in some places, water was more precious than gold.
This was why he had stayed in Hanli Khan Desert for years, working day and night on the water project without even returning home once.
There were so many excellent ministers in court—they wouldn’t miss him. But Hanli Khan Desert needed him, needed this manager skilled in mathematics, needed his status as someone from a prominent capital family with good relations with His Majesty that no one dared shortchange on supplies. They needed this manager who, despite his noble birth, could endure hardship, persevering here day after day so that in the endless sandstorms and harsh environment, no one dared retreat.
When he heard about what happened to His Majesty in the capital, he had considered rushing back. Later he thought: there were so many people in the capital who could comfort her. Most importantly, would comfort and companionship be useful?
For someone like His Majesty who prioritized the realm and people, working hard for her realm and subjects would be the best comfort.
So he stayed here, year after year.
So when his father kept hinting, he chose Naren Aya.
His father hoped he would distinguish himself before His Majesty, hoping he could become the nation’s father-in-law.
But he was unwilling to ruin his friendship with His Majesty over unrealistic thoughts.
In Western Rong language, Naren Aya meant “desert sunset clouds.”
That girl was indeed as brilliant as sunset clouds. Seeing her was like a traveler walking in the vast desert—when the sun was setting and the path ahead uncertain, suddenly seeing a band of glowing clouds ahead, shimmering golden light, red clouds like flames.
Magnificent and vast, telling the world that heaven and earth had boundaries.
The tent flap lifted, and Naren Aya, having finished watering the vegetable garden, hurried in. She was not tall, with porcelain-white skin unusual among locals, a slender build, and small eyes with extraordinarily long lashes. Her pupils were black with brown, creating rippling waves when she looked at people, yet showing a hazy innocence. Among Western Rong people who looked aged from constant wind, she had a particularly young and endearing appearance.
But her actions were remarkably efficient and decisive. She quickly cleared the bowls and dishes, using a slightly damp cloth to accurately and swiftly wipe Qi Yuansi’s lips, completing the post-meal cleanup while pulling him to his feet: “The horse is ready. We leave now and arrive tonight.”
Qi Yuansi was quite used to this, letting her drag him out while adjusting his collar and asking, “Where are we going?”
Water pouches and dried food were already hung on the horse. Naren Aya waited for Qi Yuansi to mount, then leaned over to slap his horse’s rump. Qi Yuansi quickly gripped the reins as the horse king that Naren Aya had personally tamed shot out like a madman.
Qi Yuansi leaned back sharply, fortunately prepared, or he would have been thrown.
The young master once famous for his charm in the capital swayed wildly on the galloping horse, shouting, “Where exactly are we going!”
Naren Aya crouched low on her horse, she and the horse becoming one arrow. Only her voice carried from afar: “To Mirror-Breaking City to celebrate Ghost Festival!”
…
The usually tightly closed gates of Mirror-Breaking City were wide open, with crowds waiting to enter stretching for several li.
The crowd moved slowly forward. Among them, two men drew considerable attention.
Both were of average height. One was handsome with a slender build, wearing ordinary blue clothes, a rarely seen jade brush hanging from his waist, holding a book in his hand.
Though dressed plainly and honestly queuing like everyone else, somehow this person seemed different from the rest. People unconsciously dared not approach him, yet always wanted to look at him.
Some in the crowd thought this must be what people called bearing and temperament.
The other wore loose short clothes, his messy hair tied in a high ponytail with several stubborn strands sticking up rebelliously. Pale-faced with ordinary features, a yellow brass tube-like object at his waist, sitting on a small stool.
It was this small stool that made this duo the center of attention.
This fellow’s bottom seemed glued to the small stool—he sat while queuing, and as the line moved forward, he shuffled the stool along.
His laziness was breathtaking.
Some people disapproved and muttered curses under their breath.
But these two acted as if they couldn’t hear.
Di Yiwei looked up with considerable respect at Tie Ci.
His Imperial Majesty even read while queuing—truly studious.
The next moment Tie Ci turned a page, and Di Yiwei clearly saw the page read “Last night’s spring dream…”
Di Yiwei: “…”
The Commander rolled her eyes dramatically.
Sensing this eye-roll, Tie Ci tucked the book into her robes. Di Yiwei patted her small stool: “Want to share half?”
“Thanks, but no,” Tie Ci said gently. “I don’t want to look up and see someone’s buttocks.”
Perfect position to receive any gas emissions.
Di Yiwei: “…”
Crushed.
After a while, the crowd was shocked to discover that the lazy fellow glued to his stool had actually stood up to queue!
By this time it was their turn. The gate guard carefully examined their travel permits from Yong Ping, then said, “No one may carry weapons into the city.”
Di Yiwei said, “We have no weapons.”
The guard’s gaze fell on her brass pipe and the jade brush at Tie Ci’s waist.
Both Tie Ci and Di Yiwei were somewhat surprised.
They’d heard that Mirror-Breaking City had been allocated elite troops—clearly not empty words. Even an ordinary soldier could notice their pipe and jade brush.
“These don’t count as weapons,” Di Yiwei laughed. “One’s a smoking pipe I can’t be without, the other’s just a decorative item.”
Her sleeve moved, and a silver coin silently slipped into the guard’s sleeve.
The guard’s expression changed drastically.
As if burned, he grabbed out the silver coin, threw it on the table, and shouted, “Here are two criminals attempting bribery to sneak through! Someone come! Arrest them!”
Di Yiwei: “…”
What kind of incorruptible integrity is this! I almost thought I’d passed him gunpowder!
Shrill whistles and running footsteps—dozens of people rushed down from the city walls.
Di Yiwei and Tie Ci, two veterans of many storms, saw this situation and simultaneously grabbed each other.
They shouted, “Run!”
The next instant, figures flashed like dancing butterflies, strong winds swept past. The crowd only felt their vision blur and their heads cool as the two had already leaped over the soldiers’ heads, landed among the people entering the city, and slipped away like loaches.
“Criminals in the city! Close the gates! Search the entire city!”
Having rushed inside the gates, Tie Ci heard this and said, “Terrible!”
They mustn’t let their antics ruin the opening ceremony and the Ghost Festival night tour the people had been anticipating.
Di Yiwei sighed and muttered, “Which bastard trained them so that even gate guards won’t take bribes!”
The city was already in chaos, gates slowly closing. Di Yiwei had no choice but to pull out a whistle and blow it.
Moments later, someone arrived with troops—Tian Wu, who had already entered to establish defenses. He now served as a general under Di Yiwei.
Seeing Di Yiwei and Tie Ci’s disheveled state, he laughed, grinning widely: “Your Majesty, Commander, knew you’d cause chaos wherever you go.”
Di Yiwei irritably threw her command token to him: “Whatever method you use, quickly restore order in the city, open the gates wide, don’t affect everyone’s fun.”
Tian Wu accepted the order and left, but not before stuffing a pack of beef jerky into Tie Ci’s hands: “New flavor, Your Majesty try it!”
Di Yiwei protested, “Why don’t I get any? I’m your direct superior!”
Tian Wu mouthed something and rode away grinning. Di Yiwei pondered for a while, then looked at Tie Ci in confusion: “Why did he say you’re daddy and he must be filial to daddy? Do you have such a big illegitimate son?”
…
Soon after, the gates reopened, people resumed order, everything returned to normal.
Mirror-Breaking City had a Coordination Office, composed of officials from both Great Qian and Great Feng, with positions including chief and deputy managers and directors, responsible for managing all affairs within Mirror-Breaking City. As for who from Great Feng and Great Qian would be chief or deputy, they’d argued plenty initially, finally agreeing to take turns being boss, each term lasting six months. During these six months, whoever made mistakes would automatically step down.
Everyone supervised each other, so all worked diligently. Plus, Murong Yi had previously cracked down on bribery, so now any soldier who was offered money considered the giver an enemy.
However, today’s enemies couldn’t be caught. The Coordination Office sent people to explain it was a misunderstanding, telling people these were just two who didn’t know the rules, not thieves, everyone could safely enjoy themselves—Mirror-Breaking City would definitely ensure everyone’s safety.
Thus the festivities resumed, while Tie Ci and Di Yiwei, now wearing masks, stood before an enclosed wall.
Di Yiwei examined the wall and snorted, “This must be Great Feng’s mysterious secret building they won’t let anyone see. I bet it’s a brothel. And you—not going anywhere else, heading straight here. Let me say up front, I can’t get you inside. Last time I wanted to bring someone to look around, Great Feng blocked me with three layers of guards, absolutely refusing to let me take one step inside. So annoying.”
She pointed across the way: “The night market and lantern market are lit up, so lively over there. I heard there’s an Immortal Hall, Bridge of Helplessness, Hall of Yama, and Meng Po’s soup. Let’s go there instead.”
Tie Ci looked back. That area was indeed brilliant with flowing lights, crowded with visitors. Lanterns flickered in succession along the long street, looking from afar like the Milky Way descending to earth. The crowds moved in fragrant breezes, dressed in colorful clothes, as if wandering in the celestial river.
A picture of prosperous times, no weaker than any famous Great Qian city.
Here it was dark and deserted, with no one setting foot.
But Tie Ci withdrew her gaze and smiled: “Last time? Didn’t you bring Xiahou? Good progress—you’re already arranging city tours together. Have Xiahou treat me to dinner later.”
Di Yiwei pursed her lips in a smile, took a puff of her pipe, and said vaguely, “Not really, you’re overthinking.”
Xiahou Chun had come to “visit relatives” last year. This year when Tie Ci came to Yong Ping, he hurried to follow. However, Tie Ci only brought Di Yiwei tonight, no one else. Xiahou Chun naturally had to follow personally from behind, but without the chance to openly stroll with Di Yiwei, he was inevitably somewhat disappointed.
Tie Ci said, “You’re both not young anymore. If it seems workable, why not make do.”
Di Yiwei said, “Make do for a few years, then have black-haired people send off black-haired people?”
Tie Ci frowned and turned to look at her. Di Yiwei changed the subject, pointing at an approaching squad of soldiers: “Look, they’re coming to chase us away. I say we should leave quickly, or when they do chase us away, it won’t sound good if word gets out…”
Before she finished speaking, the group had reached them. Di Yiwei quickly moved to pull Tie Ci: “Alright, let’s go…”
“…You’ve come. We’ve been waiting for you a long time.” Across from them, the leader standing in shadow bowed to Tie Ci.
Di Yiwei: “…go.”