Mobei.

The tent was utterly still. Xie Yuzhang and Lin Fei stood face to face in silence.

“Help me fix my hair first,” Xie Yuzhang said. “Then go and invite Zadayali.”

The two of them said nothing more. They moved with swift, deft efficiency.

Xie Yuzhang had always shown great respect to Zadayali in her day-to-day conduct, and whenever there was something to discuss, she would take the initiative to visit Zadayali’s tent. Given that she was now sending Lin Fei to invite her — and given Lin Fei’s grave expression — Zadayali did not dawdle. She followed Lin Fei without delay.

There was no one else in the Zhao Princess’s tent. She asked, “Baohua, what’s the matter? Did Wuwei drink too much?”

But Xie Yuzhang did not wear the gentle smile she always carried.

Even during these turbulent days of conflict, she had made every effort to offer a smile to each person around her. A Khan’s wife with a sense of duty should be exactly like Zadayali and Xie Yuzhang — able to soothe hearts with a smile even in such times.

A Xie Yuzhang who was not smiling made Zadayali feel strangely unsettled.

Xie Yuzhang regarded Zadayali in silence for a moment. Even now, this woman’s gaze held its characteristic warmth and tenderness.

Xie Yuzhang’s first words were: “Zadayali, Wuwei is dead.”

Before Zadayali could change her expression, Xie Yuzhang’s second sentence came immediately: “Make arrangements for Dielitele to assume the position of Khan at once. Do not allow others to harbor ambitions.”

Zadayali held Xie Yuzhang’s gaze for a few seconds, then said, “Let me see him.”

Lin Fei lifted the felt curtain of the inner tent.

Zadayali strode in. Xie Yuzhang followed.

Zadayali bent down to examine Wuwei’s body.

Xie Yuzhang said, “I had stepped outside for a moment. When I returned, he was already dead.”

Death of a drunken man by choking on his own vomit — the royal court saw one or two such cases every year. The men of the steppe truly loved their drink far too much.

As Xie Yuzhang finished speaking, she caught sight of a look at the corner of Zadayali’s lips — a faint, contemptuous smile.

Zadayali straightened and said to Lin Fei, “Go and call Dielitele here.”

Lin Fei left without a word.

The inner tent fell silent again.

Not a single woman wept for Wuwei, nor showed the slightest sorrow.

Zadayali and Xie Yuzhang looked at one another.

Zadayali asked, “Did you kill him?”

Xie Yuzhang said, “He died from choking on vomit while drunk.”

Zadayali said, “People who truly die that way are always sleeping far too deeply — that’s why they can’t save themselves. Their eyes are closed.”

But Wuwei’s eyes were open — he had died with his eyes wide and unseeing.

Zadayali did not accuse Xie Yuzhang. She said instead, “Well enough. It’s a fine way to die. It spares a great deal of trouble.”

Xie Yuzhang said, “If I hadn’t acted first, you would have done it yourself, wouldn’t you?”

Zadayali dropped all pretense. Her eyes were filled with contempt. “This useless wretch — I have been enduring him for many years.”

But wasn’t it she who had raised Wuwei into the useless wretch he was? Xie Yuzhang thought.

“Zadayali,” Xie Yuzhang said, after a brief pause. “Why did you have Wuwei send me to Jiang Jingye?”

Several years earlier, Xie Yuzhang had long suspected that it was Ma Jianye who had goaded Wuwei into the idea of handing her over to Jiang Jingye. For a man of Mobei, offering a daughter as a token of submission was one thing — but to hand over one’s own wife to an enemy was an act of utter, unforgivable disgrace.

Yet in this life, Ma Jianye had died long ago, without so much as a ripple on the steppe.

So then who had planted the idea of offering her to Jiang Jingye in Wuwei’s mind? Or rather — who had commanded Wuwei to do it?

There was only one person who could command Ashina Wuwei, and that was the woman who had raised him: Ashide Zadayali.

Zadayali’s face took on that matronly, tender expression once more, and she said, “What are you talking about?”

Xie Yuzhang looked at her and said, “You and I never had any conflict of interests.”

The maternal smile faded gradually from Zadayali’s face, leaving behind an expression of indescribable coldness and detachment.

She said, “You should not have enchanted Dielitele.”

Xie Yuzhang denied it: “I never once sought him out. I even made a deliberate point of keeping my distance from him.”

Zadayali’s expression grew colder still. “But the mere fact of your existence is an enchantment to him.”

Dielitele and his mother were very close and kept no secrets from each other. Once, slightly drunk, he had told his mother that if he could only hold the Zhao Princess in his arms, he would do anything she asked.

Zadayali said, “A woman like you must not be allowed to exist in this world — a woman whose influence over my Dielitele is so great.”

She had spent her entire life controlling and shaping Wuwei, yet she would never, under any circumstances, allow another woman to influence or manipulate her son. This was the greatest conflict of interests between them.

Ah — so that was it. Because she had overlooked this, even in this life, she and Wuwei had still ended up here.

But Xie Yuzhang had nothing to regret or feel remorseful about. She still had far too many things to do.

“Very well. To ensure that no such misunderstanding arises again in what’s to come, let me speak honestly with you,” Xie Yuzhang said. “I never had any intention of remaining on the steppe forever.”

Zadayali glanced at Wuwei’s body and said, “But you cannot leave.”

On the steppe she had a husband; in the Central Plains, her kingdom was gone.

Zhao Princess Xie Yuzhang, however, smiled.

“No. I can.”

After Dielitele arrived, he was the only person in that tent who felt grief and sorrow at Ashina Wuwei’s death.

Yet neither the woman who had raised him nor the woman he had secretly adored would allow him the time to grieve.

“Go,” Zadayali said. “You know what needs to be done.”

Xie Yuzhang said, “My people are at Your Highness’s command.”

Dielitele looked at the two women, wiped his tears, took up his blade, and went out.

Xie Yuzhang said, “He truly resembles Silifou.”

Zadayali smiled. “He is the grandson of the Wolf King. He will become the lead wolf.”

Both women’s gazes returned, settling on each other.

Xie Yuzhang said, “Sending me to Jiang Jingye was a truly terrible move — it brought nothing but shame to the Ashina name and served no purpose whatsoever.”

What could a woman’s beauty accomplish in matters of true consequence? Other than bringing a man fleeting pleasure, it was utterly useless.

Zadayali said, “I know. I simply didn’t like you.”

Xie Yuzhang: …

Fair enough.

Xie Yuzhang said, “If you and Wuwei had listened to me from the beginning and begun negotiating with Jiang Jingye sooner, things would never have deteriorated to this point.”

Xie Yuzhang’s original plan had not included killing Wuwei. She had been working to broker a peace between Wuwei and the Central Plains, to forge an alliance between the Khanate and the Central Plains to join forces against Chuluo together. And then, from that position, she could invoke her achievements to seek permission to return to Da Mu.

Her entire plan rested on her knowledge of Li Gu from her previous life, and on the investments she had made in him in the early years of this life.

This Emperor of Da Mu — fierce and unyielding in character, merciless toward his enemies — would never resort to conciliatory measures such as marriage alliances. He preferred to meet his enemies on the battlefield.

If she were to ask him plainly: her mission as a marriage alliance princess had been fulfilled — did Da Mu have any further use for a princess to remain here serving men with her beauty? Given this Emperor’s character, he would most certainly give her leave to return.

As long as he gave that permission, and with Jiang Jingye’s armies pressing down, Mobei would not have the strength to hold her.

She could return with her head held high, using the merit of brokering the peace talks to establish her footing in Da Mu.

But unfortunately, Zadayali’s intent had been entirely at odds with hers. The two of them had been pulling Wuwei in opposite directions all along, and in the end, she had lost to Zadayali — after all, Zadayali was the one who had raised him.

By now, the royal court had lost any standing to negotiate with the Central Plains. All it could do was beg for clemency.

Zadayali lowered her head slightly. “That was my fault.”

“But you at least chose the correct direction,” Xie Yuzhang said. “To bow before the Central Plains and submit — the Central Plains Emperor will not slaughter you all or reduce you to slaves. Chuluo, however, would not be so restrained. That said, I have a better proposal.”

Zadayali raised her head, her expression grave. “Speak.”

The royal court fell into a brief uproar. There were sounds of blades and fighting, but it ended quickly.

When Dielitele returned, there was blood on him. “All those still living have submitted,” he said.

His father Ashina Wuwei’s body still lay untended in the inner tent. His mother and the Zhao Princess had already charted the direction for the royal court’s future.

Zadayali said, “The envoys set to go to Jiang Jingye tomorrow — hold them for now.”

Dielitele said, “Wasn’t that decided when Father was still alive?”

Xie Yuzhang said, “Our position right now is too desperate. Submitting to Jiang Jingye in this state — what awaits us will also be desperate. Khan.”

She had already begun addressing Dielitele as Khan.

“Khan,” she said, “send word to the other tribes. Let us all submit together — there is more negotiating power in numbers.”

Dielitele was neither rash nor willful. From the moment of his father’s death to when he had brought the royal court’s people under control, within that brief span of time, he had matured with astonishing speed. He simply said, “The other tribes have old grievances against us. Why would they heed my command?”

Xie Yuzhang said, “Pardon my frankness, Khan — in your youth, you do not yet have the ability to compel the other tribes to submit. But right now every tribe faces the same situation we do: Chuluo to the north, Jiang Jingye to the south. If they do not stand with us, once we submit to the Central Plains, whoever comes next in line to be struck down by Jiang Jingye will be one of them. Mature leaders will see through the situation clearly, and I believe there are many such leaders on the steppe. I can go and persuade your uncle Tuqitang — he has always been a clear-headed man.”

Zadayali said, “I have nearly convinced my father and brother. With one more push, the Ashide clan will stand with us.”

“As for the other tribes on the steppe…” Xie Yuzhang said, “we need the support of one particular person.”

As she spoke, both she and Zadayali turned to look at Lin Fei.

“Ashina Abazha Kunashe,” said Lin Fei, who had been standing silently at Xie Yuzhang’s side. She raised her eyes and spoke the name. “My teacher.”

The young Khan did not underestimate a single woman in that tent.

He had come to understand: all of them were women of intelligence, courage, and capability. Except for the wielding of blades, in nothing did they fall short of any man.

He accepted this calmly and said, “Good.”

That night, Ashina Wuwei was not laid out in mourning. He was cremated directly.

His family offered very few offerings at his funeral — nothing to compare with the rites of his father. His great wife and his most beloved Zhao Princess offered not a single thing. Only his other wives wept and contributed what meager tokens they could, their grief for his death honest and heartfelt.

Xie Yuzhang looked at these women who had lived by the warmth of Wuwei’s favor and affection — and saw in them the person she had been in her previous life.

When the sparse funeral ended, several mounted groups slipped quietly away from the royal court and rode off in different directions.

When the Flaming Sun King Tuqitang saw Zhao Princess Xie Yuzhang again, he was genuinely startled.

“Baohua, what has happened?” he asked.

Xie Yuzhang removed her riding hood. In the light of the torches, her face was carved as if from jade.

“Wuwei is dead. Dielitele has taken the throne. The royal court is stable.” She was concise and went straight to the point. “The royal court has already decided to seek terms with Jiang Jingye. Tuqitang — what will you do? With the royal court gone as a buffer, the next one to be relentlessly hunted by Jiang Jingye will surely be you — the strongest of the three princes.”

The Zhao Princess’s face was as beautiful as ever. But Tuqitang had no capacity to spare for such thoughts in this moment.

A man must first have food in his stomach before he has appetite for desire. In the present circumstances, Tuqitang’s eyes had no room for the beauty of any woman — even one of breathtaking loveliness.

But he could hear her words, and those words cut precisely to the bone of his current situation and the danger he faced.

“No one is asking you to lower your head before your nephew,” Xie Yuzhang said inside the great tent. “Dielitele is just a young boy. But surely you have no desire now to seize the Khan’s banner and raise it high — only to give Jiang Jingye a target to fix his sights on?”

In other times, Tuqitang would of course have wanted that banner. But now, whoever flew that banner, Jiang Jingye would pursue. He had heard that of late, even Wuwei had stopped daring to raise the great standard.

He had been able to take a measure of schadenfreude in that — but if the royal court was already preparing to submit to the Central Plains, then the next one Jiang Jingye would come for was, exactly as Xie Yuzhang had said, undeniably him.

“Whatever quarrels and contests you and your brothers and nephews wish to have, those are matters for the future. Right now, you are all facing the same crisis.”

“Tuqitang, set aside your pride.”

“You’ve always wanted to model yourself after Silifou, haven’t you? But I can say with certainty — if Silifou were in your position right now, he would seek terms without a moment’s hesitation, to preserve as much of his strength as possible.”

“Do you think heroism means only brute endurance? If you believe that, then you have let Silifou down deeply.”

“A true hero has always known when to bend and when to stand firm.”

That night, Zhao Princess Xie Yuzhang persuaded Tuqitang to stand alongside the royal court and seek terms with Jiang Jingye.

As she was about to leave, Tuqitang called after her.

“Baohua.” He fixed his gaze on her and asked, “In your heart — are my brothers and I all beneath Father Khan?”

Xie Yuzhang looked at him and answered, “When it comes to heroes of the steppe, I have never encountered anyone who could surpass Silifou.”

Tuqitang bent his head in shame.

“But Silifou once said,” Xie Yuzhang added as she mounted her horse and took up the reins, “that you are the most like him among all his living sons.”

She sighed softly. “If it had been you who inherited the Khan’s throne from the start — perhaps the Mobei Khanate would not have come to what it is today.”

With that, the Zhao Princess drove her heels into the horse’s flanks and gradually disappeared into the darkness of the night, but her words remained behind in Tuqitang’s ears.

“You are the son of the Wolf King. You are the one who should have become the lead wolf.”