The further north they traveled, the sparser the population became. Counties and towns gradually disappeared, replaced by an increasing number of defensive fortress compounds, and the air grew heavy with a killing chill.

On several occasions, the wedding procession spent the night within those fortress walls. Li Gu, too, gradually stopped straying far from the convoy.

No road, however long, ever fails to reach its end. At last even the fortress compounds vanished from sight, and stretching before them was a vast expanse of white — land blanketed under thick, heavy snow.

“We’re here,” Xie Yuzhang said softly.

They had reached the steppe.

Beneath that thick snow lay flattened, withered grass. Snow in the northern lands was slow to melt; after a great snowfall, one could often see nothing but endless white for a very long time.

The terrain, too, was nothing like the flat plains of Yunjing. Gentle slopes and rolling hills undulated across the landscape, their curves soft and rounded.

It was the Fifth Imperial Prince’s first time venturing so far from Yunjing, and his first time seeing such a landscape. He clicked his tongue: “How does anyone find their way here? Wouldn’t you get lost?”

Li Gu’s scouts, however, never lost their way. They had marked precise landmarks along the route, every one pointing toward the Khan’s court.

The khanate’s own messengers were equally unfazed. They shuttled back and forth between the wedding procession and the Khan’s camp with increasing frequency, reporting each day how much farther the camp lay.

After listening for several days, the Fifth Prince felt something was off: “Are we really moving that fast?”

“No,” Li Gu clarified. “The Khan’s court is moving toward us.”

“Ah?” said the Fifth Prince. “I thought —”

He had assumed the Khan’s court was fixed in place, like Da Zhao’s capital city and imperial palace. This was a mistaken notion.

National Preceptor Abazha overheard and laughed, then explained: “What is the Khan’s court? Wherever the Khan’s great banner stands — that is the Khan’s court.”

Finally, on that day, the scouts and messengers returned together. After hearing their report, Li Gu spurred his horse to Xie Yuzhang’s carriage and informed her: “Your Highness, tomorrow we shall meet with the Khan. Camp will be made early today. Whatever preparations Your Highness requires, please begin them now.”

A long silence passed before Xie Yuzhang’s voice came from within the carriage.

“Understood. There is nothing to be done.” She said.

She did not push open the window. She did not even lift the curtain, Li Gu thought.

Every other time he had ridden to her carriage to make a report, she would always lift the curtain and reveal her face — as delicate and lovely as a crabapple blossom. She would always smile at him, even though she knew she was walking a road from which she might never return.

But this time, she did not.

Her voice was low and muffled. It settled heavily in Li Gu’s chest.

He wheeled his horse around, circling twice beside Xie Yuzhang’s carriage where he stood, then pressed his legs against the horse’s flanks and rode away.

“Find a campsite,” he ordered.

The scouts quickly located a suitable spot — a hollow at the base of a rounded hill, where the gently rising slope blocked the northwestern wind, making the air within the hollow somewhat less biting.

But Li Gu and his Flying Tiger Army did not make camp in the hollow. Even knowing this wedding journey would bring no conflict with the khanate, he still adhered to military doctrine and set up camp on higher ground.

The Fifth Prince clicked his tongue at Xie Yuzhang: “They really don’t feel the cold. It’s freezing up there. I called out for him to come down, but he wouldn’t.”

Meanwhile, Wang Shitou was droning on beside Li A’da: “Camp must always be on high ground — should night raiders come, one cavalry charge from above can hold off several times the number. Camp must always be on high ground — should night raiders come —” He repeated it again and again, committing it to memory.

Li A’da was in agony: “For heaven’s sake, stop chanting, will you? My platoon is on watch at the fourth hour — I need to sleep!”

He rolled over and pulled his felt blanket over his ears.

Even in such conditions, Xie Yuzhang still bathed in hot, steaming water. Da Zhao still stood, and she was still a princess — such was simply a princess’s due.

Sitting in the carriage for so long had left her back and waist aching. Inside the warm tent, the wooden bed frame was layered with thick fur padding for warmth, topped with soft silk-floss batting. The bed sheet was the finest weave of ramie — softer than silk, warmer than satin, and gentle against the skin.

Xie Yuzhang lay face-down upon it while a deft maid kneaded and eased the tension from her back and waist.

Xie Yuzhang suddenly opened her eyes. “Who is crying?”

The maid who had been massaging her paused and tilted her head to listen. Indeed, the faint sound of weeping could be heard. She caught the eye of the maid holding the lamp, and the lamp-bearer lifted the gauze bed-curtains, slipped around the screen, and went into the outer section of the tent.

She returned shortly: “It is Wan Xiu.”

“What happened to her?” Xie Yuzhang asked.

The maid hesitated.

Xie Yuzhang noticed something was off and raised a hand to stop the massage. She said to the lamp-bearer: “Speak freely.”

“Wan Xiu says that when camp was being made, she saw a young woman who looked very much like A’Jie…” The maid bowed her head deeply. “She was overcome with sorrow and couldn’t hold back her tears. She asks for Your Highness’s punishment.”

Xie Yuzhang stared blankly for a moment, then asked: “I remember Wan Xiu used to follow A’Fei often, didn’t she?”

“Yes. A’Jie always liked using her.” The maid said. “Her feelings for A’Jie run deeper than the rest of ours.”

Xie Yuzhang thought of how Lin Fei had praised Wan Xiu several times before, calling her “earnest and dependable.” Lin Fei had never cared much for palace maids who were too lively and flighty. The people of Zhaoxia Palace were clearly divided into two groups: those who kept her company at play tended to be more spirited, while those who worked alongside Lin Fei were, by contrast, quieter and steadier.

“Your Highness.” The maid drew Xie Yuzhang back from her thoughts. “Please give your punishment.”

Xie Yuzhang sat up and smoothed her still-slightly-damp hair. She said softly: “What is there to punish? Who doesn’t miss A’Fei?” She missed her too.

But whenever she thought of Lin Fei safely settled at the Duke of Merit’s household, no longer having to stand in front of her and bear the blows on her behalf, she felt the parting was worthwhile.

“Go tell Wan Xiu to wash her face and remember to apply the healing balm afterward. Otherwise the wind will crack her skin.” She said.

The lamp-bearer smiled with relief: “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Xie Yuzhang waved a hand, and the maids filed out. Only Nanny Xia remained. She took Xie Yuzhang’s long hair from the maid’s hands and helped dry it beside the warming brazier at the edge of the bed.

“Your Highness did the right thing,” she said. “It is only natural to long for home and miss those dear to us.”

“Yes. People’s hearts are made of flesh.” Xie Yuzhang gazed at her own shadow on the ground. “Even resentment and bitterness are natural. I am only a princess, not an immortal. I have no celestial art that can transform others — no way to spare those around me from grief and sorrow and leave them only happiness.”

Nanny Xia said: “Even immortals, I suspect, lack that power.”

Xie Yuzhang laughed.

The brazier was warm and fragrant. She drifted into thought for a moment, then suddenly said: “Nanny.”

“Your Highness?”

“A’Fei will be very safe.”

“…”

“Knowing she is safe makes me very glad.”

Her long hair was like spilled ink — jet black and lustrous. Once dried through and through, it became smooth and sleek. Nanny Xia passed the comb through it again and again, and said with tender affection: “That is very good.”

That night, Xie Yuzhang dreamed of Lin Fei.

She dreamed of her past life — perhaps not this exact day, but it was also the last night before joining the Khan’s court.

“Don’t cry anymore.” Lin Fei held her in her arms. “Your eyes will be swollen by morning, and that won’t do.”

But how could Xie Yuzhang stop crying?

The Ashina Khan was an old man. No matter how the Grand Preceptor sang his praises like poetry, extolling his valor — he was still a decrepit old man, old enough to be her grandfather!

When at last she stopped crying, her head ached and swam.

Lin Fei sighed and called for a maid to bring warm water to wash her face, then personally applied face cream to Xie Yuzhang’s cheeks and took her by the hand. “The tent is stuffy with warm air — let us step outside and breathe in some fresh air. The night snow is beautiful, too. Sights like this are rare back in Yunjing.”

They wrapped themselves in thick fur cloaks and stepped out of the tent.

The night snow truly was beautiful — it lit up the night sky so brightly it seemed almost like day, astonishing to behold. Looking up, a crescent moon hung above the vault of the heavens, as large as a cartwheel.

She had even said: “Why is the moon here so much bigger?”

Then her gaze followed the moon downward — and she saw the figure standing at the top of the slope.

He stood against the light, his face in shadow, yet he was facing in their direction.

“Hateful!” She raised her sleeve to cover her face. “That person is watching us! Make him leave!”

She had only just finished crying and had not yet composed herself — the last thing she wanted was to be seen by someone. Especially when she had no idea who that figure was or what he was doing standing up there.

Absolutely hateful!

She turned and went back into the tent.

…

Xie Yuzhang jolted awake from the dream!

Her heart was pounding wildly! Her breathing was short and quick!

That person!

The person in the dream was —!

The maid on night watch asked softly from beyond the gauze curtains: “Your Highness?”

Xie Yuzhang asked urgently: “What hour is it?”

The maid replied: “Just past the hour of Hai.”

Xie Yuzhang drew two quick breaths and said: “Bring me my clothes!”

The maid did not understand, but as a servant, she never asked why — she only carried out orders.

Xie Yuzhang turned and sat up, and with the maid’s help, quickly dressed in her padded silk robe. “And my cloak?” she asked.

Was she going outside? The maid was puzzled, but moved swiftly and had already retrieved the fur-lined cloak.

“My hair —” The maid hesitated.

“Never mind it!” Xie Yuzhang said sharply. She reached out and took the cloak, swirling it around herself. “Do not follow me!”

She stepped into her deerskin boots and walked quickly toward the exit. The maid could only watch as her silhouette vanished behind the screen.

The tent was partitioned into several inner and outer layers. Xie Yuzhang moved so swiftly that she did not even wake the maids sleeping in the outer sections. She reached the outermost layer, pushed aside the heavy curtain, and the cold air rushed at her face.

It was just as it had been that night — the moon was large, and the snow made the night sky brilliantly bright.

The guards stationed outside the tent were startled to see her emerge with her hair loose and unbound. They bowed hastily: “Your Highness —”

And asked: “Is something wrong?” They assumed Xie Yuzhang had been frightened by something.

“It’s stuffy inside — I came out for air!” Xie Yuzhang waved her hand. “Pay me no mind.”

Having said so, she strode away.

The guards looked at one another in bewilderment. Where were her maids? Even if she only came out for air, she should have a maid with her — and why was her hair not even combed?

But since the princess had told them not to concern themselves, they dared not overstep. They could only watch.

Xie Yuzhang hurried out to the open ground before the tent and turned in a slow circle, looking up in all directions.

Being in the hollow meant rounded hills rose all around her. Where was he? Where was he?

Xie Yuzhang strained to remember which direction she had been facing in the dream, and then her figure went utterly still.

Behind Princess’s great tent, beneath a moon as large as a cartwheel, lay the gentle slope of a hill.

At the top of that rounded hill, a silhouette stood — exactly as she had seen in her dream!

He stood high above, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, gazing down.

He, too, stood with the light at his back just as in the dream, his face hidden in shadow. From the foot of the slope, Xie Yuzhang looked up at what appeared to be a black silhouette, yet one traced all along its edges in silver light.

The question that had lingered in Xie Yuzhang’s mind for so long finally had its answer — in her past life, he had truly escorted her as well.