The next morning, Hongyi came early to wake Ziqing, saying Prince Yao wanted to take her somewhere.

“Where to?” Ziqing asked, blinking sleepily, clearly displeased — she was always an early riser by nature, waking on her own, not because someone had disturbed her.

“Miss, something’s wrong with His Highness — his face is so cold, so terribly cold. You should get ready quickly!” Hongyi reminded her timidly.

“When has that ice-block face of his ever been warm?” Ziqing shot back, unimpressed, rising lazily to get dressed.

“There was the time Miss won against the Western Chu Princess Imperial, and a few times when His Highness came home and saw Miss…” Hongyi murmured under her breath, though Ziqing didn’t catch it, briskly dressing herself in black combat attire — nothing about her looked remotely like a princess.

Hongyi wanted to say more, but when she turned around, her mistress had already vanished.

At the city gate, Jun Beiyue sat high on his horse, gazing straight ahead. His devastatingly handsome face was indeed cold — several degrees colder than usual, as though even standing slightly too close might leave one frostbitten.

Ziqing approached at an unhurried pace. Seeing that silent figure, an inexplicable chill ran down her spine. She paused, then continued forward.

“Where is Prince Yao taking me?”

At her voice, the blood-sweating horse beside him turned its head at once — it had become Ziqing’s own personal mount, and yet every time it saw her, it grew oddly excited, as though it shared some special bond with her. Ziqing liked the horse too, and if Jun Beiyue hadn’t been there, she’d surely have winked back at it playfully — but with him present, she kept her face expressionless as she swung up into the saddle.

Only then did Jun Beiyue turn to look, glancing briefly at her bare index finger, and asked flatly, “Getting used to riding the blood-sweat horse, I take it?”

“Well enough,” Ziqing answered.

Jun Beiyue nodded. “Good. Glad it wasn’t wasted on you, then.”

At those words, Ziqing’s brow snapped tight. This man — how could he be so infuriating? The horse had indeed been his gift — did he really have to keep score over even that?

What did he mean by that?

Ziqing was about to speak when Jun Beiyue said flatly, “Let’s go. To Second River City. The Seventh Prince has reported that Western Chu’s peace envoy is Chu Feiyan. Your second mission — accept Western Chu’s request for peace. The terms are yours to negotiate.”

With that, he didn’t even wait for her answer before spurring his horse forward.

So it was Chu Feiyan coming in person — truly, it seemed enemies were fated to keep crossing paths. Jun Beiyue’s assignments really were never easy — a second mission, and already another impossible task!

Two warring nations, and whoever came to sue for peace would inevitably demand a host of conditions to end hostilities. Whether representing the side suing for peace or the side receiving the plea, an envoy needed to be quick-witted, persuasive, capable of both pressing and retreating — fighting tooth and nail to secure the best possible outcome for their own nation.

Ziqing had never handled a task like this before, and had no idea what terms to even propose, let alone where Western Chu’s true bottom line lay.

If she went in too soft, given Chu Feiyan’s temperament, even as the one suing for peace, she’d surely lord it over Ziqing regardless — what terms could possibly be won that way?

If she went in too hard, securing an advantage for Da Zhou was one thing, but provoking Chu Feiyan into reigniting the war entirely was another matter altogether.

And if war broke out again, given her estimate of Jun Beiyue’s military strength, if Western Chu went all in on a desperate gamble, it would genuinely be difficult to hold them back.

And if war resumed, wouldn’t she, the envoy, once again be blamed as the cause of disaster?

How high should she hold her head as an envoy, how much should she demand, how should she calibrate it all — Jun Beiyue hadn’t offered a single word of guidance. Clearly even he couldn’t decide easily on this matter, let alone leave it entirely to her.

Ziqing rode up to catch him, matching his pace, unable to resist stealing a few glances at him, wanting to ask, but gritting her teeth and turning her gaze forward instead.

They rode on side by side, nearing Second River City at last, when Jun Beiyue finally turned to look at her.

He knew full well the task he’d tossed at her wasn’t an ordinary problem — the stakes were enormous, and the slightest misstep would bring disgrace on the entire nation of Da Zhou. And yet this woman hadn’t even asked a single question so far. Was she really that confident?

Jun Beiyue watched her for a long while, but Ziqing’s calm gaze remained fixed steadily ahead. A cold smile touched his lips. Good — he’d wait and see how she handled this.

Soon, they reached Second River City. Jun Beiyao personally greeted them at the camp gate, and the moment he spotted Jun Beiyue, he hurried forward several steps, his face lit with warmth and delight — a completely different man from the one who’d faced Ziqing before.

Such a convincing performance. Did he really assume she’d say nothing to Jun Beiyue?

Or had these two brothers simply grown so used to putting on this false front for each other?

“Fourth Brother! Sister-in-law!” Jun Beiyao bowed respectfully, the terms “brother” and “sister-in-law” spoken with such warmth that anyone unaware might think these two brothers were the picture of familial affection.

Ziqing waited to see how Jun Beiyue would react. In public, they were husband and wife — no matter how badly things had gone between them, the two still had to keep up appearances together. But to her surprise, Jun Beiyue simply dismounted, not even sparing Jun Beiyao a second glance, and walked straight through the gate.

Ziqing couldn’t help but feel pleased at that, lifting her chin and walking in with confident strides, treating Jun Beiyao as though he weren’t even there.

A flash of malice crossed Jun Beiyao’s eyes, followed by a cold smile as he hurried after them, his warmth and delight undiminished. “Fourth Brother has finally arrived — you’ve kept us waiting! The one who came from Western Chu is Chu Feiyan. That woman’s got some nerve, coming alone. She’s waiting in the government hall right now.”

Given the state of things between the two nations and the situation at Second River City, Jun Beiyao understood full well, just as Jun Beiyue did, how thorny this peace negotiation truly was — how carefully the balance needed to be struck.

He’d initially assumed he was the only one in the army capable of being sent for this. Jun Beiyue would surely never lower himself to trade barbs with some peace envoy — but to his surprise, Western Chu had sent Chu Feiyan of all people!

An envoy of such standing — if Jun Beiyue didn’t personally attend to this himself, it would be improper by any measure!

He was eager to see how Jun Beiyue would handle this, how he’d secure the greatest possible advantage for Da Zhou under circumstances that weren’t entirely in their favor.

If this negotiation succeeded, it would effectively declare that Jun Beiyue had won this war against Western Chu, weak striking strong. If it failed, it would be no different from an outright military defeat for Jun Beiyue — and it wasn’t just the entire Da Zhou court and its people watching, but every nation across the whole continent of Longyuan.

The final outcome of this entire war would come down to today’s negotiation table.

Jun Beiyue sat high in the main seat, in his usual commanding, icy posture, his lean frame leaning slightly forward, one hand braced on his knee, propping up his chin, his deep, cold eyes like a frozen pool, fixed on the ground before him, ignoring Jun Beiyao’s brisk approach entirely.

“Fourth Brother, Chu Feiyan’s been waiting quite a while now. It would be rude to keep her waiting any longer!” Jun Beiyao urged anxiously. In war, any tactic was fair game — but once it came to negotiating peace, everything had to follow proper protocol and etiquette.

Yet no matter how anxious Jun Beiyao grew, Jun Beiyue remained perfectly still, eyes lowered, unmoving. A complicated look flickered across Ziqing’s eyes — hadn’t he decided to send her? What was he waiting for now?

Surely he wasn’t kind enough to sit here and carefully brief her on a strategy? Even Ziqing herself didn’t believe that for a second.

But just then, Jun Beiyue suddenly rose and said flatly to Ziqing, “Let’s go. This prince will walk you over.”

…

A Note to Readers: Barring any surprises… it’s a double update today.