The Emperor was, after all, Xie Yuzhang’s father. He had also, after all, once truly doted on her. And so even in her previous life, when he had arranged the marriage alliance with the Mobei Khanate, he had ensured the other party agreed that Xie Yuzhang need not consummate the marriage with the Khan until she had reached the age of seventeen.

A princess was merely an additional symbol of honor — what mattered was the significance of her status; all else was of no consequence. Grand National Preceptor Abazha and the Ashina Khan were both indifferent to such small matters and agreed without objection.

Yet on their wedding night, a drunken Ashina Khan had forced his way into her tent.

Lin Fei had rushed forward to block him, and was sent crashing to the ground by one sweep of that enormous, powerful man’s arm — spitting blood, she fell unconscious. The ten years Xie Yuzhang spent on the steppe had begun with exactly such a night.

Like a nightmare.

A nightmare from which there was no waking.

Nanny Xia had said: the princess is still very young. If she were to conceive, it would be far too dangerous.

Nanny Xia had wanted her to drink a contraceptive decoction.

But Attendant Xu had said: you are already married here — the Khan is your support. He is so old; he will certainly go before you. You must give birth to a son as soon as possible.

Caught between Nanny Xia’s counsel and Attendant Xu’s counsel — two completely contrary views — Xie Yuzhang had chosen to follow Attendant Xu, the woman who had raised her and whom she was closer to.

After that night, the aged Khan had also said he had been reckless in his drunkenness, and sent her many pearls, gemstones, and beautiful garments, promising never to be so rough again. Xie Yuzhang and Lin Fei had held each other and wept, but she knew she was already this old man’s wife — a fact that could no longer be changed.

No matter how deep her revulsion, she had no choice but to accept it.

Nanny Xia’s words had proven prophetic.

She became pregnant before long. When her belly was great with child, the tribe relocated. She sat in the cart for several days and nights without stopping, and went into labor early.

Her body, not yet fully developed, was not ready to bring a new life into the world. She labored for a full day and night and could not deliver. She was already nearly at the point of death.

Nanny Xia had brought Bao Zhongxin with her, forcing their way into the birthing room. Setting aside the propriety between men and women, she had Bao Zhongxin use his family’s inherited technique to press and knead her abdomen — working slowly, gradually coaxing the child out — but when the child finally emerged, its face was ashen and purple. It was stillborn.

Misfortune followed upon misfortune. The child died, and she bled catastrophically. Had Bao Zhongxin not administered powerful medicine, she would most likely have lost her life then and there.

Though she was brought back from the edge of death, the damage done to her body was fundamental. From that point on, the rosy complexion and vibrant spirit she had once had were gone.

Her health had begun its slow decline from that moment — day by day, year by year, growing weaker.

It was no wonder, then, that when Li Gu had caught her wrist in the palace corridor many years later, her wrist had truly been… so thin.

The ladies’ maid lifted the heavy curtain, and the Fifth Imperial Prince strode in, asking, “Baohua, you called for me — what is it?”

Xie Yuzhang was drawn back from her memories of the previous life. She looked at him and asked, “Have you been drinking?”

“I thought the drinking began while they were presenting the wedding gifts.” The Fifth Imperial Prince grumbled, “But I never expected — the Khan had already drunk so much, and the actual banquet hadn’t even properly started yet. The real drinking comes later.”

“I called you here precisely because I was afraid of you drinking.” Xie Yuzhang signaled to a ladies’ maid with a gesture and said, “Do you think the wine here is the same as the Sangluo, Goose-Yellow, and Pear Blossom Spring back in Yunjing? The wine of the steppe is even stronger than the wine from Hexi. If you drink too much, you’ll be retching until your stomach aches.”

The ladies’ maid had already brought over a bowl of dark brown liquid, cooled to just the right temperature.

“What is this?” the Fifth Imperial Prince asked, pinching his nose.

“Something to support the liver and protect the stomach,” Xie Yuzhang said — not quite the truth, but a gentle way to coax him along. “It’s cooled down already. Just right for drinking.”

The Fifth Imperial Prince had no suspicions. There had always been all manner of nourishing soups and tonics back in the palace — it was simply less convenient when traveling. That Baohua could still think of him at her own wedding was truly considerate of her. What a pity…

The Fifth Imperial Prince drank down that bowl of the Grand Shaman’s specially prepared sobering medicine, wiped his mouth, and said, “Alright, I’m headed back. Can you — can you manage on your own?”

Then he added, “You really shouldn’t have left Fei Niang behind in Yunjing. Sigh…”

“Elder Brother, I’m already a married woman — how can you still worry about me so?” Xie Yuzhang laughed and sighed, tapping him in a tone that seemed almost offhand. “Though they say I’m not truly wed until I’m seventeen, leaving one’s home already means being grown up.”

The Fifth Imperial Prince looked at his younger sister. Without the uncanny, ageless beauty of the ceremony, her face — makeup washed away and clean — still showed traces of the tender unfinished quality of someone who had not yet fully grown. Beautiful, yes, but still visibly young.

She was still so small. Thankfully, they had agreed to wait until she was seventeen before…

The Fifth Imperial Prince thought of the aged Khan and felt deeply unsettled, thinking only that the Emperor was feeble and incompetent, knowing nothing but endless compromise and concession toward outsiders — even his own full-blooded sister he had given away to an old man. It was truly…

The four words “unworthy of his station” were not something he dared to say aloud, nor even to think. The Emperor was the Son of Heaven, his own father — it would be the height of insubordination.

But he thought: the Crown Prince’s feebleness ran in a direct line from the Emperor. Once the Crown Prince ascended to the throne, Da Zhao would have no hope left.

A resentment stirred in his heart — the lament of a talent born in the wrong time — and he thought only of how unfortunate it was to have been born a few years after the Crown Prince. He resented the Emperor too. The Crown Prince was neither the eldest son nor born of the Empress — if that was the case, why not appoint the most capable?

When the Fifth Imperial Prince returned to the great tent of the banquet, the inside was roaring with heat and noise, and a crowd had pressed together at the entrance, shouting and cheering in waves.

The Fifth Imperial Prince frowned and shouldered his way through, and when he looked up, he saw Li Gu throw Xia’erdan to the ground.

The crowd roared in acclaim.

The Fifth Imperial Prince was stunned. He quickly made his way back to his own seat and asked in a low voice, “What happened?”

Prince Shou stroked his beard with a faint smile. “Right after you left, this Prince Xia’erdan took it upon himself to suggest that our young General Li have a friendly exchange of techniques.”

Li Gu had never been one to be intimidated, and besides, this was not the Da Zhao imperial palace, where one had to mind court etiquette and imperial dignity. Moreover, in Mobei, refusing such a challenge was considered a display of cowardice. He had accepted at once and taken to the floor.

As things stood now, Li Gu had Xia’erdan pinned hard to the ground. Xia’erdan struggled several times but could not break free of his grip. With the outcome already so clear, Li Gu had brought honor to Da Zhao — no wonder Prince Shou smiled with such easy, restrained satisfaction.

And so the Fifth Imperial Prince forgot, for the moment, the resentment he had harbored on the road over Li Gu being so busy training Wang Shitou that he wouldn’t take him along for a gallop. He joined the others and cheered loudly.

Li Gu said a word of courtesy — “I yield to your generosity” — and released Xia’erdan.

Xia’erdan leapt to his feet, let out a scornful sound, and brushed off his robes while glaring at Li Gu with vicious hatred.

By his own inclinations, Xia’erdan would have preferred to take advantage of Li Gu’s presence here and surround him for a kill. But the custom of the Mobei people forbade killing a guest who had shared one’s table. No matter the depth of the grievance, today Li Gu was a guest of the Khanate’s royal tent — Xia’erdan could not touch him, or else he would become a despicable wretch in everyone’s eyes, stripped of the protection of the sky god.

The Ashina Khan cheered loudly. Watching Li Gu, a fond appreciation showed in his eyes. “Li Shiyi, when I first met you, you were nothing but a young lad at Li the Short’s side. Who would have thought that by now you’ve become the finest horse in his stable, the sharpest blade in his hand? Li the Short truly has all the luck.”

Li Gu replied in a steady, deep voice, “A man’s greatness is not measured by the height of his frame. My commanding officer has never relied on luck — when one’s ability is sufficient, the people’s trust follows naturally.”

The Khan grew yet fonder of him and slapped the table. “Well said — that’s what ability looks like! In all the Northwest, only Li Ming can match me, Ashina! Come, Li Shiyi — I drink to you, a young man of true courage — drain this bowl!”

A female slave presented a bowl of wine. Li Gu received it, tipped his head back and drained it in one go, then set down the bowl and clasped his hands in salute. “My thanks to the Khan.”

With that, he withdrew to his own seat at the foot of the table, drinking quietly, saying nothing further to draw attention.

The Fifth Imperial Prince murmured in Prince Shou’s ear, “Shiyi Lang certainly knows how to speak.”

He had thought it over himself just now, and realized that if the slight from Ashina’s lips had been directed at someone of his own seniority or a superior officer of his, he truly wouldn’t have known how to respond. Too soft and he would seem weak; too hard and he might provoke a conflict.

Prince Shou smiled serenely at everything. “Indeed, indeed. For his age — quite remarkable.”

In the Fifth Imperial Prince’s eyes, the Mobei people fully deserved to be called “barbarians.” What was supposed to be a proper wedding was not only in chaos, it had not even a scrap of the refined pleasures of song and graceful music — the entire night was nothing but big men wrestling, fighting one-on-one, slaughter and brawling. There were only two dances in total, and one of them was a group of men stripped bare to the waist in the dead of winter, hollering and bellowing as they leapt about, the noise deafening — not the slightest interest to be found in it.

Who on earth wanted to watch a bunch of rough, thick-skinned men?

And besides, the female slaves here were coarse as well — never mind their appearances, just that skin of theirs, with those two bright red patches on their cheeks — simply impossible to look at.

Sigh. Out on the great steppe, the wind and sun were brutal — he could only hope Baohua wouldn’t end up looking like some country village girl in the future.

The Fifth Imperial Prince buried himself in his drink. The wine was far too strong, burning his throat — he drank only two swallows before he could take no more. He set down the bowl, had the interpreter tell the frontier attendant to bring him plain water instead.

The moment he switched to water, the frontier people caught sight of it, and looks of contempt flickered across their faces. They snorted through their noses, and not one of them came to toast this honored prince.

It suited the Fifth Imperial Prince perfectly. Who wanted to drink with these savages anyway? The wine was unbearably pungent, and on top of that these people guzzled it like cattle!

He helped himself to some food and filled his stomach, then turned his head — and found that Prince Shou’s cheeks had already turned red, his gaze glazing over, and he had begun to ramble. He had grown drunk.

Sigh. Prince Shou had always had a weakness for the cup. He’d been living as an idle, carefree member of the imperial clan for so long that he had stopped caring about anything — not even the occasion — and simply drank himself to oblivion.

Taking stock again — the officials who had come along were also flushed deep red, every one of them looking as if they were nearly done for. One with a poor head for drink had been toasted by the Mobei people several times in succession and had already collapsed in his seat.

Only Li Gu, at the far end of the table, showed no change in his complexion. Among the Zhao delegation, the Mobei people had toasted him the most — cup after cup — and he must have drunk the most of anyone, yet not a hint of color had come to his face. Only his pair of eyes shone bright, almost unsettlingly so.

Across the way, the Prince Xia’erdan who had lost earlier locked eyes with him from a distance. Both men held the other’s gaze, both expressions alarming — the kind that looked ready to draw blades and kill at a moment’s notice.

The Fifth Imperial Prince hurriedly took a swallow of water to steady his nerves, and glanced left and right uneasily, wondering where the guards were. But this was a wedding banquet — apart from a few close-by personal guards, all their soldiers were stationed outside.

Just at that moment, one of the strong slaves in the arena defeated yet another slave. This strong slave had now beaten three men in a row.

The Mobei people were howling and yelling — was there any semblance of a wedding here? It was practically a gladiatorial pit.

“Let me have a go!” The Ashina Khan tore open his robe, stripped off his garment, and stepped bare-chested into the arena.

What kind of behavior was this? The Fifth Imperial Prince could barely look — the Khan of a Khanate, the groom of the day, honestly!

Even as he thought this, he felt a stab of worry. That strong slave was genuinely frightening — what if this old man went too far? Having Baohua married to an old man was miserable enough. The Fifth Imperial Prince really did not want Xie Yuzhang to end up married to a cripple, or become a widow outright.

But the Ashina Khan was called the Overlord of the Steppe — not entirely on account of his royal blood. In his youth he had been fierce and powerful, his might renowned across the steppe. Even now, older in years, he had not lost his edge.

Compared to what had happened earlier with Li Gu and Xia’erdan, the old Khan’s style was utterly without restraint. And what had followed between slave and slave had at least held some measure of control.

But when it came to the old Khan, it was blow for blow, flesh on flesh, sprays of blood and spittle — some of it spattering onto the Fifth Imperial Prince’s face. Such ferocity left him frozen in place, so shocked he forgot even to wipe the blood from his cheek.

In the arena, the aged Khan suddenly unleashed a roar, seized that slave who had beaten three men in succession, lifted him clean off the ground, and hurled him crashing to the earth.

The strong slave let out a muffled groan and struggled, but could not rise — clearly wounded gravely.

On any ordinary day, Ashina would have stopped there. But tonight was his wedding, the day he had taken a true and highborn princess from the Central Plains as his wife. She was radiant as a heavenly being, young and tender in her beauty — and in his delight, Ashina had drunk himself into a killing frenzy that was no longer capable of restraint.

The strong slave was seized again and hurled violently down once more. This time, great gouts of blood poured from his mouth.

And still Ashina was not satisfied. He seized the strong slave a third time and hoisted him high overhead.

This time, he did not throw him to the ground.

The way an ordinary person would snap a stiff branch — the Ashina Khan brought the strong slave crashing down hard across his own bent knee!

The Fifth Imperial Prince thought he must have been hearing things, because he heard a clear, distinct crack of breaking bone. And in surroundings this noisy, that really shouldn’t have been possible.

Immediately after, a dark shape came hurtling directly at his face. The Fifth Imperial Prince was paralyzed with terror, but Li Gu had already shot to his feet, moving with lightning swiftness, seizing the Fifth Imperial Prince by the back collar and hauling him sharply backward.

The Fifth Imperial Prince was flung onto the felt carpet. The strong slave who had been thrown crashed into and overturned his low table, wine and broth splashing across the ground. Ashina stood there bare-chested, both fists clenched, every corded muscle across his body standing out in ridges. He opened his mouth and bellowed straight at the Fifth Imperial Prince.

Like a lion. Or a bear. As if he were about to spring forward and devour him whole.

The Fifth Imperial Prince, in his fright, shuffled backward on his seat several times. His gaze slid away from the Ashina Khan and fell on the strong slave.

That too had been a powerfully built man. Now his body was folded back in a direction that no human body should ever bend, every muscle twitching and convulsing. That unceasing, spasming hand lay less than half a foot from the Fifth Imperial Prince’s boot.

“Someone — help — someone help him!” The Fifth Imperial Prince, still on the ground, clutched at Li Gu’s hem.

Li Gu, however, lifted him to his feet and said flatly, “He is dead.”

“But he’s — he’s still moving!” The Fifth Imperial Prince was incoherent.

“Sometimes, when a person dies badly, the body keeps moving for a long while.” Li Gu said.

The Fifth Imperial Prince had seen dead people before. What deep palace had ever lacked for deaths? Only in the palace, people died quietly — soundlessly, without a trace.

But a death like this, this kind of death…

“Urgh…” The Fifth Imperial Prince turned his head and retched.

This prince was handsome as a woman, and apparently just as fainthearted. The frontier people in the tent roared with laughter and shouted, “More wine! More wine!”

The female slaves streamed in one after another, clutching clay jugs.

Other slaves came to drag out the corpse of the dead strong slave and clean the felt carpet.

No one spared another thought for the Fifth Imperial Prince’s ash-white face.

Using the excuse of looking after his drunk royal uncle, the Fifth Imperial Prince made an early exit.

Since the wedding was merely a ceremony and Xie Yuzhang was not to consummate the marriage with the Khan for another three years, the Zhao delegation had been arranged in one cluster. The Fifth Imperial Prince and Prince Shou’s tents were right alongside Xie Yuzhang’s.

After settling the royal uncle, the Fifth Imperial Prince returned to his own tent. The sight of the strong slave’s manner of death came back to him, and he retched again — bringing up everything he had drunk and eaten all evening.

He was profoundly aware of the discomfort in his stomach, and felt that the liver-and-stomach tonic Baohua had given him was utterly useless. He at once told his attendants to boil him some broth to soothe his stomach and intestines.

He settled down for a time with his eyes closed. Then the sounds of commotion from outside reached him.

“Your Highness — something has happened!” An attendant burst in, calling out in panic, “The Khan — the Khan…”

The Fifth Imperial Prince had just been frightened by Ashina that very night. He leapt up from the bed at once. “What happened?”

The attendant said, “The Khan has forced his way into the princess’s tent! Your Highness — the Khan is drunk!”

What would happen when a man drunk like that forced his way into the tent of a princess that beautiful — no amount of thought was required to work it out.

“Your Highness — Princess Baohua is still so young! And it was agreed that not until seventeen — Your Highness, Your Highness!” The attendant was desperately anxious, overstepping propriety to seize the Fifth Imperial Prince’s arm and drag him toward the outside. “Your Highness, hurry and stop the Khan — the Khan is drunk, something dreadful is about to happen!”

The Fifth Imperial Prince’s mind flashed with the image of the bare-chested Ashina, fists clenched, roaring like a lion, like a bear. Was there any more terrifying creature in the world, one who could end a living person in such a manner?

“Your Highness! Hurry, Your Highness!” The attendant urged, “The Khan must not hurt the princess!”

At those words, the Fifth Imperial Prince took a half step forward, instinctively.

And then only half a step — and stopped.

The attendant froze.

“But the Khan…” This Fifth Highness, elder brother to Princess Baohua, said haltingly, “he is — he is Baohua’s husband.”