Back in her own tent, Nanny Xia was holding court, telling stories from the past. Lin Fei was listening intently.

“What are you talking about?” Xie Yuzhang entered the tent, shrugged off her fur cloak, and asked.

Lin Fei saw her return safe and sound, and let out a quiet breath of relief. “Nanny is telling me about the old days in the palace.”

Xie Yuzhang said, “I want to hear too.”

Nanny Xia gave a warm, gentle smile. “Of course.”

Xie Yuzhang settled in beside Lin Fei around the warming brazier, and listened to Nanny Xia tell her tales.

Nanny Xia told the story of a clever palace consort — how she had been shrewd, knowing what to say, knowing when to advance and when to retreat, winning the Emperor’s favor. She told the story of a loyal and capable palace servant — how resourceful she had been, helping her mistress navigate crisis after crisis.

It was all quite relevant to their current situation.

Xie Yuzhang could map herself onto that consort; Lin Fei could map herself onto that palace servant. And running beneath it all was a subtle molding of loyalty toward one’s mistress.

In her former life, Xie Yuzhang had had Mistress Xu by her side. Nanny Xia had only been able to seize moments here and there to impart some wisdom and methods to her — and many of them had conflicted with Mistress Xu’s way of thinking, leaving Xie Yuzhang confused and uncertain about which direction to follow.

Now, Xie Yuzhang listened with full attention, feeling no confusion at all.

In Nanny Xia’s story, the clever consort’s first principle was to protect herself first, and only then to please the Emperor in order to win affection.

Yet in the past, what Mistress Xu had taught her was to place pleasing old Ashina above everything else.

“Khan is your sky,” she had told Xie Yuzhang. “We all live under the Khan’s grace. You must make the Khan like you.”

Mistress Xu had urged her to bear the Khan a son as early as possible, to secure her footing in the royal tent. Nanny Xia, on the other hand, had wanted her to drink the tonic that prevented conception.

Their differences could not have been more stark. In this life, Xie Yuzhang would feel no confusion, would know exactly which path to choose.

“What a clever woman that consort was,” Xie Yuzhang said with a smile. “You have to keep yourself alive and well first before you can think of anything else. You can’t put the cart before the horse.”

“Your Highness is right.” Nanny Xia smiled with heartfelt relief, a glimmer of moisture passing through her aged eyes. “As long as Your Highness understands, I am at peace.”

Xie Yuzhang reached out and patted Nanny Xia’s arm. “I know what I’m doing, Nanny. Don’t worry. Two more days and we’ll be at the Khan’s royal tent encampment. Rest early, Nanny — look after your health.”

They had long since stopped relying on warming braziers and charcoal basins for heat. Instead, like the Mobei people, they had dug a fire pit in the center of the tent and heated it with an open flame that also served as light.

Xie Yuzhang and Lin Fei lay side by side with their feet tangled together.

She asked, “What did Nanny tell you?”

Lin Fei said, “Things that are useful.”

In the former life, it had been the same — Mistress Xu standing between them had left Nanny Xia little opportunity to guide Xie Yuzhang. But Nanny Xia had been clever enough to recognize how important Lin Fei was to Xie Yuzhang, and had redirected her focus to teaching Lin Fei instead.

Just like that story she had just told — not only was that palace servant clever, she was also loyal to the point of death, in the end giving her life for her mistress.

Had Nanny Xia spent all of the former life pouring such ideas into Lin Fei?

Xie Yuzhang stared up at the tent ceiling. “Take from what Nanny says what is worth taking, and let the rest pass through one ear and out the other. I am not that consort, and you are not that palace maid. We — are different.”

Lin Fei turned her head in surprise, looking at Xie Yuzhang beside her.

Xie Yuzhang said quietly, “A’Fei, you must love yourself. You are a precious daughter carefully raised by the Lin family. You must cherish yourself — don’t be swayed by all this talk of loyal servants and devoted maids, throwing themselves into death at every small thing for their mistress.”

“What are you worried about?” Lin Fei turned onto her side, propping herself up, a smile in her eyes.

“Since you know I am a daughter raised carefully by the Lin family, then you should know I was raised reading the classics. How could you fear I’d become the sort of foolish servant who throws herself away at every turn?”

She said, “What Nanny told me doesn’t quite suit me — but I can use it to guide the others. What matters most is Nanny’s heart. The fact that Nanny thinks only of you — and that she followed us here — that is truly a blessing.”

Xie Yuzhang sighed softly, knowing she had underestimated Lin Fei again. Young as she was, Lin Fei could see through Nanny Xia’s intent.

But Xie Yuzhang felt not the slightest reassurance that Nanny Xia’s heart was entirely devoted to her. If Nanny thought of nothing but her own wellbeing, then who would think of Lin Fei?

She let her worry show. Lin Fei looked surprised. “Why do I say more and you look even less reassured?”

She leaned forward, her smile blooming like a flower. “Silly little pearl. My mother entrusted me to you — that very act means she wanted me to live well. How could I not cherish myself?”

Xie Yuzhang’s chest ached. But in the former life, that is exactly what you did. You treated me as a jewel, held me precious — but had no care for yourself at all.

Lin Fei propped herself up, looking at her.

“If I were to give myself up like that palace maid,” she said, “it would only be because I chose to wholeheartedly, because that person was worth it. The classics say that a true person dies for the one who truly knows them. What this tells us is that death itself is not frightening — what is frightening is dying without meaning, dying like an insignificant insect. But to die for something or someone worth it — what is there to fear in that? What is there to regret?”

Xie Yuzhang squeezed her eyes shut.

Worth it?

She turned over and wrapped her arms around Lin Fei’s waist, burying her face against the softness of her chest.

“A’Fei, don’t be afraid. I will take care of everything,” she said.

Lin Fei’s lips curved upward. “All right — you know everything now. That’s such an enormous advantage. There’s nothing for us to be afraid of.”

“But you — from now on you need to read more history. You can’t be as lazy about it as you used to be.” Lin Fei smoothed her hair gently. “History illuminates the mind. You’re a peace-marriage princess in foreign lands — a clear mind is the most important thing of all.”

Xie Yuzhang let out a sudden exclamation.

Lin Fei asked, “What’s the matter?”

Xie Yuzhang lifted her face from Lin Fei’s chest. “Older Sister Dahu also told me to read more history from now on. She said given my position, reading history would keep my mind clear. There’s a complete set of history books in my dowry — but things were so hectic before we set out, and since then we’ve been traveling by carriage every day. I haven’t had the chance yet…”

“The Commandery Princess…” Lin Fei let out a soft sigh.

Now it was Xie Yuzhang’s turn to ask, “What’s the matter?”

Lin Fei sighed again. “The Commandery Princess carries a great depth within her.”

Xie Yuzhang was surprised. “Why do you say that?”

Lin Fei said, “That year at Prince Shou’s consort’s birthday celebration — you brought me along. The young ladies of the royal family were composing poems together, quite lively. I saw the Commandery Princess pick up her brush as well, but when she finished and read it over herself, she crumpled it up and tossed it aside. You asked her why she had crumpled it, and she said it wasn’t well-written.”

“Later everyone went to watch the opera, and I was walking behind. By chance I stepped on that crumpled ball of paper, and out of curiosity I opened it and looked. People say that handwriting reflects the person, and so does poetry. The spirit in those lines — the Commandery Princess Kangle had a heart like a wind without roots, longing to sweep across the whole land — yet she was trapped like a slender willow, unable to step beyond a courtyard on all four sides.” Lin Fei sighed.

Xie Yuzhang was quiet for a moment, then said, “I thought you didn’t like Older Sister Dahu.”

Lin Fei saw right through her. “The one who didn’t like the Commandery Princess — that was you, Your Highness.”

Caught out, Xie Yuzhang felt a flicker of embarrassment. “…It’s not that I disliked her. It’s just that before — Older Sister Dahu couldn’t join us in anything. Never mind cuju, polo — she couldn’t even come out for a stroll or to admire the flowers. Whenever she left the house, Prince Shou’s consort would nag and nag, and no one wanted to bring her along.”

Her voice grew quieter and quieter, until at last she said, “Older Sister Dahu is also very pitiful.”

The tent fell quiet for a moment. Lin Fei asked, “And the others? What about Princess Anle? And the two younger princesses, Fu Kang and Jia You?”

Since the night they had been reunited and Xie Yuzhang had confided her secret, Lin Fei had been asking questions like this frequently over these past days.

She needed to know more — so that when things arose, she could respond more wisely. But for Xie Yuzhang, what lay in her heart was not a dream — it was memory. And memory, crowded into the mind, is disordered and chaotic. Some things lie heaped in corners, gathering dust.

If she tried to recall on her own, beyond the major events that had left deep impressions, all the other scattered details were hard to organize at once.

Asking questions worked well. One question would trigger a thread, and pulling that thread would often bring out a whole string of useful information.

“Princess Anle,” Xie Yuzhang said, closing her eyes. “She died.”

“…” Lin Fei asked, “How?”

“Anle was beautiful, and a princess. Those rampaging soldiers found their pleasure in debasing palace concubines and noble women. She was seized by Huang Yungong’s son, and she killed herself with her hairpin.”

Lin Fei was quiet for a long time, then said, “So that’s why you weren’t angry at her…”

“What would be the point of anger? She and the others helped push me into being the one who was sent away. But I lived, and they all died,” Xie Yuzhang said. “Noble Consort Shu hanged herself. Though she was older, she was also beautiful — she was humiliated all the same.”

So what was there to resent in dead people?

Lin Fei’s heart clenched. “And the two little princesses?”

Xie Yuzhang’s voice turned heavy. “Not seen alive, and no bodies found.”

“We had no means to conduct a wide search later on. We used some money to ask the old palace servants. But no one reported seeing their bodies — only that during that time, the bodies of palace servants were being carted out by the wagon-load…” She said.

Lin Fei was overcome with grief.

Xie Yuzhang gripped her hand. “But before I was sent away, before I left, I told Fu Kang and Jia You over and over — if they ever saw fire in the palace, or heard screaming, they were to drop everything and run straight for the Eastern Palace!”

Lin Fei’s eyes lit up.

“Yes — the Eastern Palace is a stronghold. Even though it’s within the forbidden city, it stands as its own separate compound, with high walls and heavy gates, and the Eastern Palace Guards!” She said with excitement. “Your Highness’s thinking is exactly right. In those circumstances, the Crown Prince and the Emperor would both be prime targets for capture — so the rampaging soldiers would have their hands restrained.”

But Xie Yuzhang said, “That wasn’t my thinking. It was yours.”

She said, “Afterward, when we had given up and decided those two had died — we burned paper offerings for them. You sighed and said, ‘If only the two little princesses had known to run to the Eastern Palace. They were so close to it already. Such a pity — Noble Consort Chen had filled their household with people who were either too dim to see ahead or too slippery to act with courage.'”

Afterward?

Lin Fei paused.

She blinked, then said, “Your Highness, that dream of yours — so long, with so much in it.”

Xie Yuzhang said in a low voice, “I told you before — in that dream, I lived out an entire lifetime.”

Lin Fei lay down, clasping her hand. “Since that life is over and done with, this life must be different.”

Xie Yuzhang made a sound of agreement. “That’s what I think too.”

Their clasped hands pressed together with quiet force.

After another moment, Xie Yuzhang said, “Do you want to know what became of Princess Shanqi?”

Princess Shanqi had been from more than two hundred years ago. The history books recorded her only as a woman from a distant branch of the imperial family who had been sent north as a peace-marriage bride, bringing thirty years of peace to the borderlands. Even her name had not been preserved — only her title: Shanqi.

Naturally, no record had been made of her fate.

Lin Fei asked, “Is this something I knew, or something you knew?”

Xie Yuzhang said, sheepishly, “You again. What do I know? I’d never think to look up things like this.”

Lin Fei asked, “And where did I learn it from?”

“From Abaha.” Xie Yuzhang said. “He had many ancient sheepskin scrolls, all precious to him. Apart from him, no one in the royal tent could read them, and no one was interested. His few students were also dull-witted and never earned his favor. Then we arrived, and he came looking for us to exchange Central Plains books. You and he got talking.”

“You two ended up having a great deal to say to each other. He liked you very much and often called you over to help him sort through his precious scrolls. Because of you, he also looked after us well. You came across the information from those sheepskin scrolls.”

“And Princess Shanqi?”

“She took her own life.”

“…”

“She had married four times. Her first husband died in less than three years. She petitioned the court to be allowed to return home. The court sent an imperial decree ordering her to ‘follow the customs of the nomads.’ So in accordance with the steppe’s levirate custom, she was married to her husband’s son. That son also died, and she was married to his son; when this third husband also died, she married yet another of his grandsons. In time, her child died as well. Princess Shanqi likely felt there was nothing left to live for, and poisoned herself.”

“Because of this, when Ashina died, both you and I knew someone would be taking us over. At the time, the men were all in the great tent arguing and fighting over the spoils — dividing up cattle, horses, women, and slaves. The matter hadn’t been fully settled yet, but both of us had already noticed that Xia’erdan was scheming against me. So the two of us hid.” Xie Yuzhang said.

Lin Fei’s heart contracted again. “But he found us?”

“Yes.” Xie Yuzhang said. “Someone betrayed us.”

Lin Fei’s breath caught for a moment.

“Who?” Her voice carried a killing intent she herself did not notice.

Xie Yuzhang exhaled, and spoke the name with a dark half-laugh.

“Ma Jianye.”

The tent fell into silence for a long while.

Lin Fei said, “Then we kill him.”

Xie Yuzhang said, “Yes.”

“Kill him later — it’s too late tonight. Sleep first.”

“You close your eyes first.”

“Why won’t you close yours?”

“Once you close yours, I’ll close mine.”

Hands clasped in hands. A few murmured words. Then, gradually, silence.

They were not far now from where the royal tent of the Khanate was permanently encamped. Mobei’s bitter cold draped itself over the boundless black night. The insects of winter slept in the earth; all was still and quiet across the land.

But at the edge of the sky — sooner or later, morning light would come, and it would tear open this cold winter night.