Xie Yuzhang had brought few people with her — a ten-man escort unit, along with Ma Jianye, Wang Zhong, Li Yong, and Zhao Sheng. Aside from Ma Jianye and Wang Zhong, whom she always brought on her hunts these days, sometimes rotating between the two, the rest seemed to have been chosen at random, with no apparent deliberate arrangement.

Although Ma Jianye noticed that the other men all belonged to Wang Zhong’s circle, Wang Zhong had spent the past several months behaving like a walking corpse — barely breathing, hardly alive — and Xie Yuzhang herself seemed to have grown considerably cooler toward him. Ma Jianye had long since stopped seeing Wang Zhong as any kind of threat.

The group rode out on horseback, moving away from the heart of the royal encampment. The felt tents grew fewer and farther between. As they rode on, they suddenly caught sight of Yuan Yu — crouching on an open patch of ground with a few other men.

Xie Yuzhang reined in her horse and called out brightly, “Yuan Ling, what are you up to?”

Yuan Yu and the others looked up at the sound of her voice. Seeing it was Xie Yuzhang, they all rose to their feet.

Yuan Yu smiled. “Is Your Highness going hunting again?”

“Yes. The weather is fine — thought I’d go for a ride.” Xie Yuzhang dismounted and tossed her reins to a guard, then walked over and glanced down at what they were doing. “What are you all looking at?”

The men hastily bowed in greeting.

Yuan Yu said, “These men are experienced farmers. They’re trying to figure out what can be grown in the soil here.”

Xie Yuzhang paused and turned to look at the farmers.

One of the older men bowed and said, “The soil looks decent enough — it’s not that nothing could be grown. It’s just that we’re unfamiliar with the climate here. It’s already the third month and still this cold. We’ve no idea how the rainfall is either, so we can’t say for certain. We don’t dare waste the seed grain.”

Xie Yuzhang nodded. “This place has violent swings between seasons. The winters are long and brutally cold. The summers are warm, but short — often only a month or two. The farther north you go, there may be no true summer at all. There’s little rain, and the sun is harsh. As I recall… no one really farms here. But to the west and north — along one of the river banks, and in the foothills of the mountains — there are tribes that practice a mix of herding and farming. I seem to recall hearing that the grain they grow isn’t the same kind we eat, though I can’t remember exactly what it is.”

For a princess raised in such pampered splendor to know even this much was already astonishing to the farmers.

Yuan Yu’s smile deepened. “It would be oat and buckwheat, I believe.”

Xie Yuzhang looked mildly embarrassed. “Something like that — I can’t quite remember.”

No one had ever expected her to remember such things. That she cared enough to pay attention at all was already more than enough to gladden them.

Yuan Yu said, “I was thinking we could pull out a bit of each kind of seed and try planting them. After one growing cycle, we’ll have a clearer sense of what’s possible.”

Xie Yuzhang thought it over for a moment, then, not wanting her people to waste their effort and their seed grain, said, “Anything that can be planted and harvested within two or three months — vegetables and the like — go ahead and try. As for things that need until autumn to come in, wheat and such, don’t bother.”

Yuan Yu looked puzzled. “Why is that?”

Xie Yuzhang replied, “We may be moving again during the summer.”

“Oh?” Yuan Yu looked surprised. “I hadn’t heard anything about that.”

“Just keep it between yourselves for now — don’t let it spread.” Xie Yuzhang told a convenient lie. “The Khan told me. Nothing’s been decided yet, so he asked me not to say anything.”

Ashina doted on Xie Yuzhang deeply. Hearing her say so, everyone accepted it without a trace of doubt.

“If it’s settled, we’d be setting off in summer — around the fifth or sixth month, I’d guess. Factor that in when deciding what to plant. Whatever can be grown in that time, plant it. If nothing can, don’t worry about it.” Xie Yuzhang continued, “Once we get to the new place, I’ll have the Khan fence off a plot of land for us — dedicated farmland. No one else’s cattle or sheep will be allowed to graze there.”

She was favored. What she wanted, she could have. What she wished to do, she could do.

The subjects who had attached themselves to her and followed her heard these words and saw this with their own eyes, and their hearts grew settled. Just from her saying so, smiles appeared on the farmers’ faces.

After Xie Yuzhang and her party mounted up and rode away, the farmers nodded approvingly.

“Her Highness is truly down to earth.”

“That she is, and kind-hearted too.”

“One can only hope that in a few years, she’ll hurry and give the Khan a fine, healthy son.”

What insight could farmers who had spent their whole lives with their faces to the soil and their backs to the sky be expected to have? They simply felt that for a woman, once she was married into a household, the best thing she could do was bear a son as soon as possible. That way, she would hold a firm footing in her husband’s home, and in her old age, someone would be there to care for her and see her off.

It was nothing more than the most plain and simple view of life.

Only Yuan Yu, thinking back to how Xie Yuzhang had paused just before leaving to remind him to watch for the changing of seasons and take care with his diet, stroked his beard and quietly sighed.

Xie Yuzhang had spent a good long while chattering away with Yuan Yu and the others, and Ma Jianye was growing thoroughly impatient. He thought to himself: You just complained I was too slow to arrive, and now you’re in no hurry at all?

At long last the group finished their chattering, Xie Yuzhang remounted, and the party galloped off toward the place where they had spotted tracks of Mongolian gazelles the day before.

The herd couldn’t be found for the time being, so Xie Yuzhang made do with shooting two rabbits.

Everyone was very obliging in their enthusiasm, cheering loudly. Ma Jianye’s voice was especially boisterous — his flattery rang out like resounding slaps.

His mouth sang her praises to the skies, while inwardly he thought: This girl’s archery is actually quite good.

Everyone knew that Xie Yuzhang practiced her archery diligently every day. It was said that the Khan admired this very much, and had praised her for being like a true daughter of the steppe.

Ma Jianye had once seen the old man guiding her hand and arm around her waist, teaching her personally. In his heart he was convinced this was just Xie Yuzhang’s way of endearing herself to Ashina.

Far from being put off by it, he had wanted to applaud her with both hands and both feet.

After all, he too lived and depended on Xie Yuzhang. For her to establish a firm footing here and retain the Khan’s favor was what made it possible for the rest of them to live well. Moreover, he had already tasted the sweetness of life on the steppe and was nothing like the man he had been when he’d first learned he would be accompanying her on a marriage alliance — all gloomy clouds and dark despair.

He was having the time of his life now, without a single thought of home.

He could never have dreamed that he himself was the true reason Xie Yuzhang had been so diligently practicing her archery.

“You lot — go take a look around over there.” Xie Yuzhang swept her riding crop through the air in a wide arc, selecting several men, then added, “The rest of us will search over this way.”

With that sweep, she had included Zhao Sheng and all the guards. And the “rest of us” turned out to be only Ma Jianye, Wang Zhong, and Li Yong.

The group split apart.

Li Yong spurred his horse, pulling slightly ahead of Wang Zhong. He glanced back and noticed that Wang Zhong’s expression didn’t look quite right.

“Something wrong with you?” he asked. “Upset stomach?”

Wang Zhong stared at the slender figure of Xie Yuzhang riding ahead, and at the oblivious back of Ma Jianye who still suspected nothing. He could feel the sweat breaking out on his palms and the back of his neck.

“You alright?” Li Yong turned his horse in a circle and waited.

Wang Zhong gritted his teeth. “A’da, remember what I said this morning.”

“We’re called Li Yong now — how do you keep forgetting! Stop calling me A’da, A’da — it sounds so rustic!” Li Yong said in irritation. “I know, I know, I’ve got it.”

This Shitou — ever since the night of the Princess’s wedding ceremony, he had suddenly become somewhat different.

First he’d changed to a proper name, supposedly bestowed by General Li himself — and though he’d received a beating along with it, it was still something to be envied. Once the name changed, everything felt different. There was a genuine sense of being an official about him.

And yet this Shitou somehow seemed to have gotten even more foolish than before. In the past, though he’d been rather thickheaded, he’d still been able to argue back stubbornly against Ma Jianye when he got riled up. Now look at him — Ma Jianye had shamelessly claimed all the credit for their hard work and effort, and he hadn’t so much as let out a peep.

Once, while on watch duty, Li Yong had pressed himself against the entrance of the Princess’s tent, listening in. Afterward, so furious he could barely stand it, he’d caught up with Shitou as he came out of the Princess’s tent and kicked him: “What’s wrong with you, are you mute? Why didn’t you say anything to the Princess?! We worked so hard and all the credit ends up being his?!”

The foolish Shitou had only glanced at him and said “You don’t understand,” then walked away.

What in the world!

Was there anything Li A’da didn’t understand? He was the sharpest-witted person in the entire village!

And yet to say Shitou had become foolish didn’t seem quite right either. He was noticeably more composed than before in everything he did; the way he spoke and the way he looked at people were both different.

How to put it — in the past, even though he’d been the second-in-command of the Princess’s guard, in everyone’s eyes he was still their “Shitou,” still one of their own brothers.

But now… Niuwa had once quietly asked him: did he ever feel that Shitou had become a little frightening these days?

How could he be afraid of Wang Shitou? He’d grown up sharing the same pants with him!

He’d thumped his chest and said as much to Niuwa, but Li A’da — no, Li Yong — had to admit, deep down, that the Shitou of today was not the Shitou of before.

Before, he could manage Shitou, make decisions for him. If Shitou was being stubborn and foolish, he could forcibly set him straight.

But now, Shitou had his own ideas.

Ideas that Li Yong couldn’t see through or understand.

Li Yong had a feeling, actually — that Shitou would probably never be Shitou again. He was already, now… Wang Zhong.

That very morning, Wang Zhong had gathered their band of brothers together, put on a grave expression, and said something strange to them: “Today, when we follow Her Highness out, do whatever she tells you to do! However she tells you to do it, that’s how you do it! Keep your mouths shut and don’t ask me anything! Just remember what I said — follow the Princess’s orders!”

It made absolutely no sense.

They were the Princess’s guards. Of course they followed the Princess’s orders.

Li Yong could not have imagined at that moment that “the Princess’s orders” might include a command for them to kill their own comrade, their own superior.

For each person who wants to grow and mature and shed their old self, it takes a certain amount of unexpected hardship and trial — more or less, there is no escaping it.

As with Xie Yuzhang. As with Wang Zhong. It was the same for everyone. No one could escape it.

Xie Yuzhang rode her horse over a slope.

The highland meadow was like that in its terrain — no towering mountains or rolling hills, yet always these continuous, gently undulating round mounds. None were high, but they were remarkably effective at blocking the line of sight. Looking only at the landscape, one could find no sense of east, west, north, or south. The people here navigated entirely by reading the stars or the position of the sun.

Once she crested the slope, she was separated from the guards. Though the distance between them wasn’t great, she couldn’t see them and they couldn’t see her. Beside her were only three people: Ma Jianye, Wang Zhong, and Li Yong.

Xie Yuzhang sat on her horse and looked around. A rabbit darted out of the grass, but she had already taken two rabbits and felt no interest. Then her eye caught something else — a small round head popping up somewhere and immediately pulling back down. A ground squirrel.

Xie Yuzhang drew her bow and nocked an arrow, taking aim at the spot.

At this moment, only Ma Jianye was beside her. Wang Zhong and Li Yong had just crested the slope and were still a few yards behind.

Perfect.

That little head popped back up again. Having apparently decided the surroundings were safe, it finally edged its body out of its burrow. Alas, a human arrow showed no mercy — it pierced straight through its tiny body.

Ma Jianye cheered loudly.

“Go pick it up,” Xie Yuzhang said, casually indifferent.

Under ordinary circumstances, with guards nearby, there would be no need for someone of Ma Jianye’s rank — a regimental commander — to go do such a thing himself. But right now, with only him beside Xie Yuzhang, and Wang Zhong and Li Yong still a few steps behind, there was no one else.

Ma Jianye had absolutely no qualms about flattering and fawning on people. He gave a cheerful click of his heels and rode right over.

Wang Zhong and Li Yong spurred their horses forward and halted beside Xie Yuzhang. They watched as Ma Jianye dismounted to retrieve the prey.

Li Yong was quicker with words than Wang Zhong and knew how to talk. He turned, on the verge of saying something complimentary to Xie Yuzhang — but then he saw Xie Yuzhang reach into her quiver and pull out another arrow, setting it on the bowstring.

Whatever she intended to shoot at, there was a person in front of her. That made drawing a bow a dangerous violation of basic archery conduct.

Li Yong had no time to stop her. In a moment of panic, he let out a sharp “Hey!” They were all big-voiced men by nature.

Ma Jianye heard the sound and turned his head —

Xie Yuzhang’s arrow came screaming toward him, swift as the wind!