After several days, Xu Zhengning finally awakened. When he woke, Qi Ying was still at the Wei palace conducting business and had not yet returned to the guest quarters, so he first heard from several Privy Council colleagues about how his superior had saved him.

The peace talks between the two countries had continued for half a month now, with major matters basically settled, leaving only some details still under final negotiation.

In the Northern Expedition, the Liang army had entered Jianshan Pass, reaching as far north as Shangdang Commandery, with eight prefectures including Jizhou, Eastern Yongzhou, and Jingzhou under Liang army control. But in these peace talks, the Privy Councilor had exchanged five prefectures’ worth of territory for Xu Zhengning’s return south, keeping only Yongzhou, Qinzhou, and Jingzhou for Great Liang.

Such a price was naturally extremely heavy. Upon awakening and hearing this news, Xu Zhengning was both shocked and moved, restless with anxiety. When Qi Ying returned that night, this iron-willed man couldn’t help but shed tears, asking sorrowfully: “Why must the superior save me? When I came north originally, I never expected to return alive—let my flesh and blood be sacrificed for the great cause, and I would have no complaints! Why must you exchange five prefectures for me, a single person!”

His injuries were still very severe, and his speech remained weak as gossamer. Qi Ying told him to rest peacefully and not reopen his wounds, then said: “Having worked with me for many years, you should know my temperament—I don’t make losing deals. Today I exchange five prefectures for you simply because your value in my eyes exceeds that of five prefectures’ territory.”

His words were calm, yet deeply moving to the listener.

Five prefectures’ territory and population were undoubtedly even more precious in the current post-war period of sharp population decline, yet his superior had done this for him…

Xu Zhengning was momentarily overcome with tears, speechless.

“You need not think too much,” his superior’s expression was calm, his eyes showing openness and clarity. “Attack and defense differ greatly—these five prefectures were merely false bargaining chips.”

The superior’s words were brief but profound in meaning.

Though Great Liang’s Northern Expedition had captured eight prefectures, conquest and governance were entirely different matters. Though they could forcibly occupy now, they would be difficult to defend in the future. Moreover, these prefectures had been under Northern Wei rule for nearly forty years, making popular sentiment a difficult problem.

Losing eight prefectures consecutively was a result Gao Wei could absolutely never accept. If Great Liang insisted, they would inevitably face the breakdown of peace talks, whereupon Gao Wei would recklessly deploy troops southward regardless of consequences, and Great Liang would likely be unable to resist.

Qi Ying’s original expectation had been to gain three prefectures, pushing the north-south border a hundred li northward—even these mere three prefectures, he didn’t believe Great Liang could hold long-term. In probably a few years they would be lost again, returning to the old situation of ruling by dividing at the river—but even so, it didn’t matter. Ultimately, these three prefectures were merely breathing room he was leaving for Great Liang.

Xu Zhengning was a man of both wisdom and courage, well-versed in Privy Council affairs, experienced yet sincere. After Qi Ying left the Privy Council, Xu Zhengning would become even more indispensable. No matter who eventually took over control of the Privy Council, they would inevitably need to rely on Xu Zhengning’s assistance. Great Liang was at a time of needing capable people—exchanging five prefectures they couldn’t fight for or defend for a real, substantial Xu Zhengning was worthwhile.

Very worthwhile.

Qi Ying looked again at the wounded Xu Zhengning, thinking of the doctor’s words that his right leg could no longer be saved and he would have difficulty walking from now on, his martial skills no longer able to be displayed.

But as long as he lived, everything still had the chance to improve.

Qi Ying raised his hand to pat Xu Zhengning’s shoulder, saying in a deep voice: “You should not think or worry too much now, just rest peacefully. I will handle all other matters.”

He paused, then added with an indifferent expression: “As for the difficult road ahead, I’ll have to trouble you to bear with it.”

This sounded like polite words on the surface, but actually contained deep meaning—Qi Ying was entrusting the Privy Council to him. But Xu Zhengning at the time didn’t understand this implication.

Three days later, the peace talks between the two countries finally settled. Northern Wei ceded three prefectures to Great Liang rule, paid twenty thousand taels of silver annually to redeem the five prefectures of Jizhou, Eastern Yongzhou, Jingzhou and others, and signed a treaty promising no military action for ten years within. Liang historians called this the “Jiahe Peace Agreement.”

With major matters settled, both countries had gains and losses. Though Wei lost three prefectures and twenty thousand taels of silver annually, they at least redeemed five prefectures, achieving a reluctant balance and accepting the peace agreement results. They finally didn’t completely break with the Great Liang people and could maintain dignity while politely seeing them off.

To demonstrate his magnanimity and open-mindedness, Emperor Wei insisted this farewell couldn’t be too plain—they should create some spectacle to display Northern Wei’s broad atmosphere, so he scheduled a polo match with the Liang ministers on the nineteenth of the second month.

Polo was a game for nobles’ entertainment in Jiangzuo, but in the north it was viewed as a national skill, even popular in military camps. Not just grown men, but even young children could ride small horses and play a round, quite different from Jiangzuo.

Though Emperor Wei spoke of open-mindedness on the surface, he actually wanted to use this polo match to dampen the Liang people’s spirit and regain some face, especially instructing Young General Gu Juhan to personally participate, feeling quite ambitious.

The Wei ministers had all been frustrated by this humiliating Northern Expedition defeat and had long wanted an opportunity to vent. Since they couldn’t act during the peace talks, now that the agreement was concluded, they began acting without restraint, eagerly preparing to watch the Great Liang people make fools of themselves on the polo field while showing them Northern Wei’s might.

Though early spring in Jiangzuo already bloomed with flowers, Shangjing still had spring’s cold bite. But this couldn’t dampen Northern Wei people’s enthusiasm for this polo match. The vast polo field was decorated with flying colored flags, pavilions below filled with crowds like clouds of green hair, with nearly all the notable nobles of Shangjing present that day, craning their necks to look down at the field—first to see what this world-famous Qi Jingchen of Great Liang actually looked like, and second to watch how the Liang ministers would embarrass themselves on the polo field.

Emperor Wei Gao Mian was the primary spectator. He sat with his graceful empress on the high platform, smiling as he watched the situation below, seeing both sides had arrived, with Great Liang’s Qi Jingchen chatting and greeting his beloved minister Gu.

Below on the field, Qi Ying and Gu Juhan were indeed meeting.

These two were both renowned ministers who had dominated the chaotic world, one south and one north, one civil and one military, competing against each other for years, known in popular circles as “Southern Qi, Northern Gu.”

Though these two were always mentioned together, they had actually only seen each other once briefly on the street before. If not for that incident involving Shen Xiling, they might never have met at all.

Because of that previous encounter, they weren’t complete strangers now. The two stood beside the field holding their horses’ reins and chatting casually, with Qi Ying not forgetting to thank Gu Juhan for the Shen Xiling incident: “Regarding the previous matter, thank you for your assistance, General Gu.”

These words actually revealed his relationship with Shen Xiling indirectly. After all, if she were truly just a maidservant beside him, he wouldn’t need to specifically thank Gu Juhan for her sake. By saying this, he was essentially acknowledging her special status.

Gu Juhan naturally heard this implication, though even without Qi Ying saying it, he had already noticed the signs that day—the way that woman’s eyes suddenly brightened upon seeing Qi Jingchen was enough for anyone to understand everything.

Such dependence, such tenderness, subtle yet obvious.

But he had clearly heard that Qi Jingchen was engaged to Great Liang’s Sixth Princess, so that woman called Shen Xiling… could she be his lover?

Such a beautiful, pure person, like a flower spirit—how could she…

Gu Juhan felt a subtle discomfort in his heart.

This discomfort came suddenly and unreasonably, puzzling even himself. He immediately suppressed it, only smiling at Qi Ying and answering: “Minister Qi is too polite—it was just a small matter.”

Though he appeared fine on the surface, Qi Ying controlled the Privy Council by reading people’s hearts like candlelight illuminating everything. Even though Gu Juhan concealed it well, Qi Ying still detected the hidden emotion in his heart.

Qi Ying fell silent for a while.

He had actually noticed that day that Gu Juhan seemed to have some special feelings for his young lady, but their brief meeting didn’t allow confirmation. Today, when mentioning Shen Xiling in conversation, Gu Juhan’s subtle expression couldn’t escape his eyes.

Qi Ying also felt a trace of faint displeasure at this.

He had always known Shen Xiling was beautiful and had a loveable personality. Over the years, others had liked her too—for example, his third brother, who had openly said he wanted to marry her. Though he had felt uncomfortable then, it didn’t compare to the clear displeasure in his heart now—he felt she was being coveted, and by someone he truly respected.

He very much disliked this feeling.

Though Qi Ying was young, his mindset was no longer that of a youth. Though displeased, he wouldn’t show it outwardly, only exchanging a few more polite words with Gu Juhan without mentioning that matter again.

But Gu Juhan looked at Qi Ying’s horse and frowned.

For this diplomatic mission to Northern Wei, Qi Ying had traveled with the delegation by carriage and naturally hadn’t brought his famous steed Zhuri. Today’s polo required horseback riding, and since the Liang ministers had no horses, they needed to borrow from the Wei palace’s Court of Imperial Stud. The officials there knew their emperor had instigated this spectacle to embarrass the Great Liang people, so naturally they wouldn’t lend good horses, only selecting several aged, thin horses for the Liang ministers—openly sabotaging them.

Though Gu Juhan also knew the emperor’s intentions, his upright nature made him disapprove of such tactics. Seeing that Qi Ying and other Liang ministers held inferior horses, his brow furrowed tightly. Though he wanted to immediately summon someone to change the horses for the Liang envoys, considering the emperor sat on the high platform, he couldn’t act so rashly. After thinking, he only said to Qi Ying: “Minister Qi’s horse quite appeals to me. Could I borrow it today?”

He handed his own reins to Qi Ying: “If you don’t mind, we could exchange.”

Gu Juhan’s horse was also one of the world’s finest steeds, called Ruochi, a genuine warhorse that had seen battle, accompanying Young General Gu through campaigns for years and already famous.

Hearing him say this, Qi Ying naturally understood his thinking and felt somewhat moved.

He had long known Gu Juhan was a benevolent general with an open mind incomparable to ordinary people, but hadn’t expected he could go this far.

Qi Ying wasn’t merely his battlefield enemy, but one of the main causes of the Gu family’s downfall, yet he could disregard such grievances and judge matters fairly, showing his upright character.

Though Qi Ying was grateful to Gu Juhan, he didn’t plan to exchange horses. First, he didn’t value this childish game’s outcome, and second, with Emperor Wei watching nearby, if Gu Juhan acted independently to change horses he might also attract trouble. The Gu family already showed signs of losing favor—better not to further displease his ruler and add insult to injury.

So Qi Ying politely declined: “Divine steeds have their own spirits, Ruochi especially so. I fear I cannot control him—better to return him to the general.”

Gu Juhan heard the underlying meaning, understanding Qi Ying was making excuses to decline. Seeing him raise his eyes after speaking, showing openness and even consideration, he understood Qi Ying’s good intentions—not wanting him to attract unnecessary trouble.

Gentlemen’s friendship is light as water—sometimes just a glance allows mutual understanding.

Because of this horse exchange matter, there was rarely less pretense between them. Gu Juhan smiled: “I’m a military officer, naturally more skilled at such mounted activities. If you won’t exchange horses with me, don’t blame me later for bullying you with my advantages.”

Qi Ying also smiled upon hearing this: “The general need not hold back—let us broaden our horizons as well.”

The two smiled at each other, both open and bright. Then drums sounded intensely on the field with flying colored flags, and this unique polo match between north and south of the great river was about to begin.

Author’s Note:

Thank you to the angels who encouraged me through comments and private messages—I’m very moved and grateful. I will definitely work hard to persist and finish this story without abandoning it!

To be honest… I still have to passionately speak out: Next time I write this kind of unpopular political romance drama, I’ll be a dog! If I’m stubborn enough to start another one next time, please be sure to scold me awake!