The back garden was wrapped in silver, with “snow” everywhere. In this scene of desolate coldness, two people wearing only single robes stepped on crystal pillars and lay drunk on piles of silver, drinking the cheapest strong liquor in the most luxurious place.
“Hey, Your Highness,” Qin Chang Ge drunkenly shook her wine jug and knocked on Yu Zixi’s head, “are you drunk?”
Yu Zixi rested his hand on his forehead, lying lazily on the ground: “Drunk.”
Qin Chang Ge extended both hands, waving them in front of his eyes: “Which is the left hand, which is the right hand?”
Yu Zixi lazily lifted his eyelids to look: “Beside the left hand is the right hand, beside the right hand is the left hand.”
“Ha, indeed drunk.” Qin Chang Ge leaned close to him: “Where is your sister?”
“Her boudoir is past the garden’s moon gate, turn right past that mirror pool. The small building beside it is hers—be gentle when you climb through the window.”
“Why would I climb through a window? Won’t you open the door for me?”
“Why would I open the door for you? I’m not a pimp.”
“Do you live together with her?”
“I prefer sleeping alone.”
“Like sleeping naked?”
“Like sleeping naked with women.”
“Which woman?”
“Beautiful women.”
“Where is he?”
The atmosphere suddenly quieted. Though there was no wind, silver powder on the ground began dancing silently.
After a long pause, Yu Zixi removed the hand covering his eyes, slightly lifting one corner of his mouth, staring fixedly at Qin Chang Ge: “Who?”
“Come on,” Qin Chang Ge laughed, tossing aside her wine jug. “Let’s stop playing. I’m tired of this game. Stop pretending to be drunk, and I’ll stop fishing for information. Let’s be direct, shall we?”
Yu Zixi smiled silently and sat up. Above his head, on a silver tree, his ever-present red lantern’s bright light flowed, reflecting in his eyes with drunken allure. But beneath that hazy pink tint, what showed through was still the coldness of thin ice.
“He left.”
Qin Chang Ge looked at him with a cold smile: “Yu Zixi, do you know you’re collaborating with enemies and betraying the country?”
Yu Zixi smiled charmingly, tilting his head to look at her: “Grand Tutor Zhao, do you know that without evidence, you’re falsely accusing court ministers?”
“Really?” Qin Chang Ge smiled leisurely. “Your Crimson Armor Guards are quite famous.”
“Hmm?”
“Your Crimson Armor Guards use different weapons than ordinary guards. Their blade handles have a curved hook—this design is probably to prevent long swords from easily slipping from hands. I remember your guards all have a rule: people may die, but swords must not leave their hands. Even if it means severed wrists, they won’t let go.”
Back then at Shanglin Mountain’s foot, Crimson Armor Guard Jin Wu had preferred to break his arm rather than release his blade handle when Chu Feihuan seized his sword.
Yu Zixi’s expression remained unchanged: “So what?”
“In the underwater cave of Yu Suo Lake, on Spring Fight Festival day, someone came to tip off Bai Yuan. His shadow was cast on the ground, and I found the handle of the long sword on his back very familiar. Seeing you on Li Water, I immediately remembered—that was the unique long sword of your Crimson Armor Guards.”
Qin Chang Ge smiled, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at Yu Zixi: “Does this count as evidence?”
“Count as what?” Yu Zixi glanced at her sideways. “A shadow? You’d use a shadow to bring me down?”
“Bring you down? No, I have no interest in taking this trivial matter to court.” Qin Chang Ge smiled. “So what if I prove you’re collaborating with enemies? Strip your title? You don’t care about that worthless prince position at all. Imprison you? What kind of prison could hold you? Execute you? I’d have to consider Xiliang’s military morale!”
“Good that you understand,” Yu Zixi gently patted her face. “When someone doesn’t care about anything, he has no weak points. Whatever you do against him is wasted effort.”
“You have a weak point,” Qin Chang Ge sneered, staring at Yu Zixi’s slightly changing face. “It’s just that someone else got to it first—it’s not my turn.”
After a long silence, Yu Zixi smiled lightly, a hint of shallow conflict in his eyes: “I know you want to know Bai Yuan’s whereabouts, but I don’t want to tell you. Telling you would harm you. Right now… I don’t want you to die.”
He took Qin Chang Ge’s unfinished wine and drank deeply: “I’ll only tell you clearly—Bai Yuan isn’t alone, and I’m not his final savior. I’m just the first stop—do you understand ‘first stop’? I only handle the initial rescue. As for what follows, from Xiliang to Eastern Yan, that long escape route has people stationed at every stop for relay assistance. Each stop doesn’t know who the others are or where the next step goes. So if you ask me, I truly don’t know.”
“You only need to get him past Lishan, to the outskirts of Yingdu?” Qin Chang Ge pondered. “To spirit someone away through such a tight net requires extraordinary ability. Didn’t you see your contact person?”
“You’re very greedy,” Yu Zixi shot her a look. “Next you’ll probably ask what my relationship with Bai Yuan really is, what role I’m playing in this affair, how I switched him out, how I got him away, who contacted me, and so on. Why should I tell you? Aren’t you very clever? Figure it out yourself.”
“Right now I’m only thinking about one question,” Qin Chang Ge smiled sweetly at him. “Why did you suddenly agree to discuss this with me? Could it be because the wine I brought particularly suits your taste?”
Yu Zixi glanced at her with watery eyes, smiling: “I suddenly find you pleasing to look at. Is that acceptable?”
“Acceptable.” Qin Chang Ge stood up, sneering: “I think you find my corpse more pleasing to look at. You can’t not know that Bai Yuan is Xiliang’s great enemy. We’ll inevitably fight Eastern Yan eventually. Removing Bai Yuan means removing Liu Wanlan’s most important support. As long as he lives, with his exceptional abilities, he’ll add many variables in the future. You’ve released the tiger back to the mountain, aided the tyrant, complicated the situation, and put Xiliang’s soldiers in even more difficult straits. Do you still think you’re helping me?”
“Good girl, you’re truly adorable when angry,” Yu Zixi wasn’t angry at all, only watching her with beaming eyes. “Don’t lecture me on grand principles—this prince hates hearing that most. This prince does whatever he wants. If this prince thinks Bai Yuan returning home is safer for you compared to you chasing him, then you’ll just have to lose track of him and let him safely return to Eastern Yan.”
He lay back down lazily, playing with crystal flowers beside him: “Of course, if you insist on chasing him, that’s up to you. When someone seeks death, no one need stop them.”
“Seeks death?” Qin Chang Ge looked at him sideways. “I have Xiliang’s great army behind me, my martial skills aren’t weak, and I have powerful friends. Would chasing Bai Yuan be seeking death? What force is so powerful it regards all of Xiliang as nothing? Or has Prince Jing’an lost his courage since wearing women’s clothing? Do you cry at seeing caterpillars and scream at cockroaches?”
“Whatever provocation you use, it’s simply not as simple as you think. I feel I’ve said too much tonight,” Yu Zixi grabbed a handful of silver powder, letting it flutter between his fingers as he smiled charmingly. “My kindness only extends to tonight. There won’t be such good fortune next time. Of course, if you don’t consider this kindness, that’s equally none of my concern.”
He lay motionless, extending his hand in a gesture: “Please leave. I won’t see you out.”
Qin Chang Ge watched him for a long while, twisting her lips, casually breaking off a silver rod from the tree: “Now I regret my wine. This covers my wine money.” Grabbing the silver rod, she strode away.
Her stamping footsteps stirred silver mist rising high, flying through the air like sudden heavy snow. In the mist, Yu Zixi slowly opened his eyes, his wave-like rippling gaze more ethereal and hazy than the snowy fog.
Though there was no chill, his voice formed like ice beads condensing in the air with each word:
“…In love and desire, one comes and goes alone, lives and dies alone, bearing joy and sorrow oneself, with no one to share the burden.”
At the end of May in the fifth year of Qianyuan, the Zhongchuan “Hidden Fox” organization lurking in Xiliang was completely annihilated due to the exposure of an assassination and kidnapping operation, wiped out by the combined forces of Xiliang’s official and underground powers. To save his life, the organization’s leader offered up the official archives of Zhongchuan’s court and Hengjing’s military defense maps that he had secretly accumulated during years of espionage work. At the end of June, Xiliang used Zhongchuan’s “wolfish ambitions” as pretext to march south toward Hengjing. In early July, Zhongchuan’s Prince Cheng, Beitang Yin, submitted a memorial to Beitang Xiao stating that the remains of the late Prince Xianming, Beitang Fan, were still alive and requesting inclusion in the imperial genealogy. Beitang Xiao was furious, wanting to strip Beitang Yin of his title and imprison him while ordering the pursuit and execution of “treacherous thieves attempting to impersonate my brother’s remains.” Unexpectedly, the edict was collectively defied by ministers who considered it a “chaotic command.” All officials knelt outside Longde Gate requesting the king withdraw his order. More ambitious fame-seekers continuously submitted memorials hinting at Beitang Xiao’s old affairs of stealing his brother’s beloved and poisoning his brother. Beitang Xiao was so enraged he nearly had a stroke, returning to the palace in great fury. But after Inner Minister Mei Wei’s persuasion and whispered words, he changed the edict the next day, ordering Beitang Fan to acknowledge his ancestry and return to the clan.
It was said that during the ancestry acknowledgment ceremony in the ancestral temple, Beitang Xiao hypocritically stroked Beitang Fan’s back while weeping, telling him not to believe marketplace rumors—the lonely king had long searched for his brother’s orphan, and now heaven had mercy, uncle and nephew were finally reunited. Beitang Fan also repeatedly kowtowed, his expression earnest, saying that during years of wandering outside, he often thought of home and country, with full admiration for his uncle king. Now finally returning to Zhongchuan’s royal family, he was full of gratitude with no other thoughts, only wishing to serve beside his uncle king for life, leading horses and holding reins—that would satisfy his heart!
Uncle and nephew spoke earnestly with vivid expressions. That moment of holding hands with tearful eyes was mournfully touching. Beitang Xiao’s gesture of opening his arms with tears streaming was more entertaining than grand opera. It was said that the protocol officials kneeling outside the ancestral temple raised their sleeves to frequently wipe tears, weeping endlessly at this moving scene of long-separated relatives reuniting.
All those matters of fathers dying and mothers perishing, years of wandering, enduring humiliation in hiding; those affairs of stealing others’ beloveds, killing brothers and disposing of wives, hunting nephews and refusing recognition—as if they had never happened.
That very day, Beitang Xiao enfeoffed Beitang Fan as Prince De and appointed him General Shangyuan. The Beitang king very earnestly grasped the new Prince De’s hand: “Nephew, uncle is old now and can no longer manage state affairs. Xiliang’s great army presses our borders—our Zhongchuan is in wind and rain, in mortal danger. How can our small country resist a great nation’s mighty troops? Uncle has been so anxious recently he cannot sleep peacefully. Fortunately you’ve returned—young and strong, heroic and vigorous, your bearing no less than my brother’s in his day… Heaven truly has eyes! Uncle entrusts all of Zhongchuan, from top to bottom, to you!”
Beitang Fan repeatedly declined, saying he dared not undertake such great responsibility. The king insisted on this command and held a grand banquet to welcome the general and celebrate victory in advance. At the banquet, ministers’ flattery flowed like tide, all praising the general’s extraordinary bearing, certain he would achieve victory immediately. Xiliang was merely a lone army—how could it match our nation’s total war mobilization with elite soldiers and brave generals? Enemy chieftain surrender and ten thousand troops’ annihilation were truly matters requiring only the general’s gesture. After such praise, the new general was elated and immediately issued a military order, guaranteeing with his life to repel the enemy within three days.
The king repeatedly praised this, stroking the general’s back, saying my nephew indeed has his father’s style! The Beitang clan having such a fine son is truly fortunate! As long as you can repel Xiliang’s great army, my royal position is yours!
It was said that after the general returned home that night drunk, Zhongchuan’s royal palace held a second small banquet. As for this banquet’s celebration theme, that remained unknown.
Subsequently, Xiliang’s great army pressed the borders, demanding Beitang Xiao personally go to Xiliang’s main camp to explain the “Hidden Fox” incident to the commander and surrender twelve cities as apology. Zhongchuan was a small country with weak forces—it only had eleven cities total, where would twelve come from? Beitang Xiao was driven to distraction, once again pledging earnestly in court: if General Fan could repel the troops and ensure the kingdom’s safety, the lonely king would abdicate in his favor. Beitang Fan immediately accepted the command arrow and left the city for battle.
When he left the city to “die,” the palace was already discussing whether they could bargain if they absolutely had to cede cities—what would be the minimum number of cities to cut, how much treasure and gold to offer to avoid disaster. A group of inner ministers argued over these numbers for most of the night. At dawn, hearing commotion outside, they thought Xiliang’s great army had finally broken into the royal city and were terrified, scattering to find hiding places. They were all pulled out from under stools, tables, and beds by soldiers. Then Beitang Fan was joyfully welcomed back, with news that Xiliang had withdrawn.
Beitang Xiao could hardly believe it, personally climbing the city tower to see. Indeed, Xiliang’s army had withdrawn ten li, lifting the siege of Hengjing.
It was said the wise Prince De, disregarding personal safety, had single-handedly infiltrated the enemy camp at night and through eloquent discourse “moved” the enemy commander to voluntarily withdraw.
Of course, besides ignorant commoners, few believed this story, but regardless, the troops had withdrawn—this was an undeniable fact.
With the immediate crisis resolved, Beitang Xiao breathed a great sigh of relief, praising Beitang Fan extensively with endless gold and silver rewards, but never mentioning the earlier promise of succession.
Though he didn’t mention it, others remembered. The next day, Beitang Fan donned royal robes and ascended directly to the Golden Luan Hall to “receive uncle’s royal position.”
When Beitang Xiao got up and ran barefoot from the great hall, he saw that the ministers who had come with Beitang Fan to assume the royal position numbered nine out of every ten court officials. This shock left his hands and feet ice-cold as he realized the situation was hopeless.
That day, Beitang Fan received Zhongchuan’s royal position in Linyuan Hall, honoring Beitang Xiao as Supreme King and moving him to Jiade Hall. He immediately granted general amnesty, reduced taxes, disbanded the new troops temporarily conscripted due to Xiliang’s border pressure, and sent memorials to Xiliang’s emperor, willing to be a perpetually subordinate vassal state with unwavering loyalty.
Xiliang’s court replied quickly, formally recognizing Beitang Fan’s royal position in Zhongchuan and praising him for “deeply inheriting the illustrious legacy of Zhongchuan’s former King Ming, with dragon bearing and phoenix appearance, worthy of being a sovereign.”
When this edict spread throughout Zhongchuan’s court, all were awed. Xiliang looked down upon the world with ambitions for universal unification. Everyone thought this small country of Zhongchuan would eventually be swept into Xiliang’s sphere, never expecting such favor toward this suddenly appearing orphan of Beitang Ming—Beitang Fan, who had no roots or foundation in Zhongchuan.
Only a few key ministers knew what was happening. Standing below the jade steps, they glanced sideways at the young king sitting calmly on the throne, recalling the mysterious documents each had received at home months ago. Those documents had gently yet domineeringly detailed all their political interests, private wealth, and compromising secrets since entering government, while very politely reminding them who should really rule Zhongchuan—they might want to open their eyes and see clearly. If they couldn’t see clearly, naturally someone would help them wipe their eyes clean. The letter was signed: “Xiliang, Zhao.”
Zhao—which Zhao? The ministers weighed those letters, looking at all the chairs in their homes that had overnight been filled with knives, then gazing at the Xiliang military camp outside Hengjing that had remained motionless as if waiting for something. In an instant, they suddenly understood.
So that orphan wandering in foreign lands had found an incredibly powerful backer…
As Beitang Fan’s royal position stabilized and ministers submitted, Xiliang’s great army indeed began slowly withdrawing, as if this entire expedition had been to ensure Beitang Fan’s comfortable accession.
Two months later, Qin Chang Ge received a personal letter from Beitang Fan brought by the returning Dan Shao.
After reading the letter word by word, Qin Chang Ge smiled faintly, handing it to Chu Feihuan while sighing: “After all this effort, everything is finally settled. Qi Fan, ah Qi Fan—in such high places, do you feel the unbearable cold?”
“With Brother Rong gone, Brother Qi will forever have a cold, empty place in his life,” Chu Feihuan gently stroked the letter. “Though he holds high position and possesses a whole country, colored clouds eventually scatter, and true friends are hard to find.”
Qin Chang Ge sighed softly: “Yes, I ultimately feel I’ve failed him…”
“The one who failed him was me, yet you went to repay my debt,” Chu Feihuan raised his eyebrows. “Originally, taking Zhongchuan and giving it to him would have been the easiest thing, but you didn’t want him to be cursed by his people or bear the reputation of collaborating with foreign enemies as he became king. Your thoughtfulness—I know it, and Qi Fan naturally knows it too.”
“Feihuan,” Qin Chang Ge looked up, her voice gentle, “I haven’t calculated how much you’ve given for me, so please don’t calculate so clearly either. Between us, there’s no need to keep such careful accounts.”
Chu Feihuan was moved, gazing at her for a long while before suddenly saying: “Chang Ge…”
“Hmm?”
“If you…”
“Report to the Grand Tutor!”
A mansion guard’s voice suddenly rang out in the quiet night, interrupting Chu Feihuan’s question.
Both turned their gazes simultaneously.
Meeting Qin Chang Ge’s somewhat displeased look, the guard panicked slightly, kowtowing before he could speak. Behind him, a palace eunuch who had stumbled over in haste was already prostrating himself, trembling as he kowtowed: “Grand… Grand… Tutor…”
“Speak slowly, what’s the rush?” Qin Chang Ge looked at his expression and suddenly felt panic in her heart, frowning: “What happened?”
“His Majesty… assassination!”