Jun Beiyue still hadn’t given any indication of his judgment on the matter.
And now he wanted to speak in private.
Knowing his lord as well as he did, General Bai Hu understood this meant the matter absolutely wouldn’t be settled simply by Bai Mengmeng’s apology and pleading.
He glanced at Bai Mengmeng, looking so pitiful, and gave her a reassuring look before following Jun Beiyue out of the tent.
Jun Beiyue walked on without looking back, while General Bai Hu, the moment he stepped outside, let out a long, heavy breath — clearly nowhere near as composed as he’d appeared in the tent.
He followed Jun Beiyue all the way to the central command tent.
Inside, the tent was empty and utterly silent — just the two of them, lord and vassal.
Jun Beiyue had already taken a seat, gesturing for General Bai Hu to sit as well. But the general gave a bitter smile. “This subordinate wouldn’t dare!”
This was the central command tent — not a place one could sit casually.
Jun Beiyue gestured toward the seat again. General Bai Hu didn’t dare disobey the order and sat down carefully.
General Bai Hu was already in his mid-forties. Tonight, for the first time, Jun Beiyue noticed a certain weariness in the way he sat. He said flatly, “Bai Hu. Bai Mengmeng’s eyes… they resemble your wife’s, don’t they.”
At these words, General Bai Hu froze for a moment, then turned his face away, unable to look at Jun Beiyue any longer. His large, calloused hand rose to cover his mouth.
In that instant, a battle-hardened warrior transformed into an old man, worn and utterly alone — a man who commanded vast armies, yet seemed, in that moment, like a homeless wanderer.
His eyes brimmed suddenly with tears. What had come over him?
Jun Beiyue watched in silence. More than twenty years ago, when General Bai Hu was young, he had been nothing more than a minor officer stationed at the northern frontier of Da Zhou.
At home, he had a beloved wife, several months pregnant. He hadn’t wanted to be on the battlefield — he longed to go home, to be with her.
But the border regions were plagued by endless warfare, and the people of several cities had been driven from their homes. When the fighting finally ended, his wife had given birth to their daughter. But when he returned home, he found his house destroyed. He searched for his wife and daughter like a madman, and all he found were two small graves.
From that day on, General Bai Hu never went home again. He stayed in the army, took in Bai Mengmeng, and later, when Jun Beiyue took command of the northern armies, he followed him to help build the Tiger Army, and had remained ever since.
Everyone believed General Bai Hu had never married, that he had spent his whole life alone.
Everyone believed he’d taken in Bai Mengmeng simply because he had no children of his own — but that wasn’t the whole truth.
It was only after meeting Bai Mengmeng in person that Jun Beiyue remembered a portrait he’d once seen in General Bai Hu’s tent.
It was, he now realized, all because of those familiar, similar eyes.
All because of a longing, a guilt he had carried and could never set down for the rest of his life.
Jun Beiyue’s words struck straight at the heart of General Bai Hu. It took him a long, long moment to recover. He looked at Jun Beiyue, shaking his head helplessly again and again, his jaw clenched for who knew how long before he finally forced out, choked with emotion, “Her… her eyes were so beautiful, the prettiest in the whole village, even lovelier than Mengmeng’s… She used to say, our child can look like me in every other way, but the eyes — the eyes have to be like mine…”
As General Bai Hu spoke, he turned away, no longer able to hold back, tears streaming silently down his face, his voice breaking completely.
Over twenty years, and no one had ever brought it up in front of him.
Over twenty years, and he had never brought it up to anyone else either. The old soldiers who had known about it had either returned home or given their lives in battle — fewer and fewer people knew.
Bringing it up now, after more than twenty years, it felt as if it had all happened just yesterday — as if he were still that young officer, lying awake at night in the camp, clutching the winter coat his wife had sewn for him with her own hands, tossing and turning, thinking of his pregnant wife back home, silently counting down the days until she would give birth.
Those days of longing had been so hard to endure.
But no matter how hard, at least there had been something to hope for. How could that compare to the torment of these past twenty years?
Otherwise, how could he have so easily taken in an orphan, kept her by his side in the military camp for over a decade, without a shred of suspicion?
All because of those eyes.
In that first moment they met, he had almost believed heaven had sent her to him, a companion to help him keep living.
But Bai Mengmeng wasn’t that.
Bai Mengmeng was a spy.
Jun Beiyue watched him in silence, little expression on his handsome, cold face. Having chosen to reveal the truth, he had also chosen the pain that would inevitably follow.
If harm had to be done, it was better done cleanly — better a short pain than a long one.
“Bai Hu. She has something she wants from me. I won’t give it to her. This woman — I won’t keep her.”
Jun Beiyue offered no further explanation, no attempt to persuade. Just one sentence to General Bai Hu: he would not keep Bai Mengmeng.
A shadow crossed General Bai Hu’s eyes. He looked at Jun Beiyue, unable to speak for a long while.
He understood well enough that his master’s decisions were always carefully considered, and once made, would not be changed.
And yet — he couldn’t bear to part with her. Couldn’t bear to give up ten-odd years of a father-daughter bond, couldn’t bear to lose the one pair of eyes that had ever brought him comfort.
“She’s shown different faces to you and to me. Her ambitions aren’t small. Keeping her alive would only invite disaster. And if this matter ever comes out, it will do no good for you, or for the morale of the Tiger Army,” Jun Beiyue said, his patience holding, giving the reminder.
At this, General Bai Hu dropped to his knees at once. “Your Highness, it was this subordinate who was blind back then, this subordinate who failed in his duty. This is all my fault.”
“Your punishment can wait. Right now, don’t talk to me about right and wrong. Talk to me about what’s to be done,” Jun Beiyue said, without mercy.
For anyone who displeased him, no matter who they were, the moment they crossed him, he wouldn’t waste a single word on them.
But for those who mattered to him, he would always treat them with utmost sincerity.
In private, General Bai Hu was like an elder brother who had faced death alongside him, who had endured the hardest of times with him, gritting his teeth together, and helped build the Tiger Army.
In matters of state, General Bai Hu was the head of the Three Great Tiger Armies, a supreme general — when Jun Beiyue was absent, General Bai Hu effectively ruled the northern frontier of Da Zhou in his place.
He had to handle this matter carefully, with patience.
If it broke General Bai Hu’s heart entirely, in a sense, that would be a victory for Bai Mengmeng — at least she would have succeeded in causing this much damage.
“Your Highness, this subordinate understands completely, only…”
In truth, there was no need to explain further. General Bai Hu understood the gravity of the situation, understood that if Bai Mengmeng ever betrayed them again, the consequences would be unthinkable.
“I’ll give you the time it takes for one stick of incense to burn, to think it over.” Jun Beiyue made his final concession.
But General Bai Hu straightened his kneeling posture. “Your Highness… this subordinate…”
His heart ached, he was in agony, he couldn’t bear to let go — and yet he didn’t want to defy the order, didn’t dare take the risk. Whatever decision he made, it would cut him like a knife.
He hadn’t even faced Bai Mengmeng yet. Facing her would be far more painful still.
At last, Jun Beiyue rose to his feet. “Kill her. I would rather you hate me, than have you one day come to hate those eyes.”