Mu Chun followed Hu Shanwei to the rear palace to have an audience with Empress Ma. Wang Ning still wanted to chase after them to say something, but Ji Gang, the Embroidered Uniform Guard standing watch at Longguang Gate, drew his blade: “The rear palace is forbidden territory. Earl Yongchun, please return.”

A palace wall blocked Wang Ning’s view.

Centurion Shi and Chen Xuan came looking for him and dragged the dazed Wang Ning, who was staring at the high palace wall, back to the banquet: “You’re really drunk. The latrine is over there. Hurry up and go – the banquet is about to end, and we need to return for the four kowtows of gratitude.”

Next, without needing Centurion Shi and Chen Xuan to pour drinks, Wang Ning poured for himself, clutching a wine jar and drinking heavily. After the four kowtows of gratitude, he collapsed to the ground, drunk and unconscious.

Meanwhile, Mu Chun followed Hu Shanwei to Kunning Palace for an audience with Empress Ma. Hu Shanwei walked very quickly, with Mu Chun following step by step: “Sister Shanwei, I see your name tag has changed to Clerk of the Palace Administration Bureau – congratulations on your promotion. I’ve been promoted too, commanding the Imperial Forest Right Guard in the palace for patrols. I’ll see Sister Shanwei often like before. After half a year apart, we’ve both grown our own shells – how wonderful.”

Hu Shanwei ignored him and walked faster and faster, leaving droplets of water on the stone path where her steps fell.

Mu Chun quickly lengthened his stride to catch up, only then discovering that Hu Shanwei was crying in the wind, pearl-like tears rolling down her cheeks and falling onto the stone path.

“Sister Shanwei, you—”

“Better to forget each other in the rivers and lakes than to barely survive together.” Hu Shanwei pulled out a handkerchief to wipe her tears. “It’s easy to say but terribly hard to do. I can’t let him see me cry – if we’re breaking up, let’s break up cleanly. Mu Chun, is my makeup still intact? I’m about to report to Her Majesty the Empress – I can’t make mistakes.”

Even at this point, she still cared whether her makeup was neat. Women truly were incomprehensible. Mu Chun pointed to the tear tracks on her cheek: “There seems to be something dirty here.”

Hu Shanwei was deeply influenced by Director Fan and maintained neat makeup daily. After crying with makeup on, it was like raindrops hitting a glass window, leaving faint muddy traces.

Hu Shanwei quickly took out the powder compact and small rhombus mirror from her pouch, dabbed a little purple jasmine fragrant powder to cover the tear stains under her eyes.

Her head could be severed, her blood could flow, her love could be lost, but her makeup must not be ruined – this was the dignity of palace female officials.

“How about now?” Hu Shanwei touched up her makeup and asked Mu Chun.

After crying, Sister Shanwei’s eyes were even brighter, like a pair of lustrous glazed gems. Mu Chun stared in a daze, inexplicably reminded of a poem the doctor had taught when he studied at the Imperial Academy: “After finishing her makeup, she quietly asks her husband, ‘Are my painted eyebrows fashionable today?'”

Mu Chun smiled dreamily: “Beautiful.”

Mu Chun followed Hu Shanwei to Kunning Palace, where Empress Ma affectionately pulled him aside to talk, only releasing him from the palace when the palace gates were about to be locked.

Meanwhile, Wang Ning had gotten thoroughly drunk at the reward banquet. When he woke up, it was already dark. His former superior, Embroidered Uniform Guard Commander Mao Qiang, was writing rapidly at his desk by lamplight. Seeing him awake, he said: “Awake? The sobering soup is on the table – drink it yourself. Don’t drink so heavily at palace banquets in the future. Improper behavior before the throne is no laughing matter.”

Wang Ning didn’t touch the sobering soup and asked: “Commander Mao, do you have any alcohol here?”

He didn’t want to sober up. Being drunk was fine – he could forget the pain.

“This is my duty room. I can’t touch alcohol while on duty.” Mao Qiang said: “Don’t call me Commander Mao anymore. You’re now Earl Yongchun, the youngest earl in the Ming Dynasty. Your noble rank is even higher than mine.”

Wang Ning preferred to drink water, clutching a teapot and gulping it down.

Seeing him in this state, Mao Qiang knew why he was like this and said with disappointment: “I’ve already heard from Ji Gang about you standing dazed outside the palace wall. Isn’t it just ‘love remains but fate is finished’? A real man shouldn’t worry about not finding a wife. I’ve already submitted your name to the Inner Palace for selection as a prince consort.”

Wang Ning spat out his tea with a “poof” sound: “You didn’t even ask me! I don’t want to be any prince consort!”

Mao Qiang didn’t stop writing and continued: “Looking at previously chosen prince consorts, they all came from prestigious families. His Majesty only chooses to form marriage alliances with founding meritorious officials, using princesses’ marriages to stabilize the Ming Dynasty. I submitted your name just as a formality, making the list look like it includes men from common backgrounds. Your chances of being chosen as prince consort are even lower than that unreliable Mu Chun’s.”

Hearing Mu Chun’s name, Wang Ning immediately recalled Mu Chun’s “tearful accusations” to Hu Shanwei about his hidden identity, and that folding fan with Shanwei’s poem inscription. Mu Chun called her “Sister Shanwei” so sweetly – what exactly was their relationship?

“Mu Chun is also going to marry a princess?” Wang Ning asked, thinking that Mu Chun appeared so pure and obedient before Shanwei, completely unlike his rogue and scoundrel appearance in the army. Would Shanwei be deceived by Mu Chun?

Mao Qiang stopped writing and gently blew the ink dry: “Marquis Xiping submitted his name, so of course he has to participate – come here, see if there’s anything improper, then sign and seal it.”

Wang Ning walked over to look and found it was a memorial written in his voice to the Ministry of Rites requesting posthumous ennoblement of his deceased mother as Dowager Lady of Earl Yongchun.

Like the last straw that broke the camel’s back, Wang Ning collapsed on the spot, falling to his knees: “Mother, your son was unfilial!”

Wang Ning’s father had died in battle in his early years. At that time, Wang Ning was only eight years old, inheriting his father’s centurion title and salary, surviving under his widowed mother’s care. His mother had overworked in her early years and was weak and sickly. What she hoped for was her son’s victorious return, marriage to his virtuous and intelligent fiancée, and becoming a grandmother the next year to enjoy grandchildren.

The Ming Dynasty’s second northern expedition had failed disastrously. Wang Ning had awakened under a pile of corpses, discovering all his comrades had died in battle, with a flock of vultures circling overhead, ready to swoop down and peck at the already yellowed eyeballs of the corpses.

Wang Ning had broken down, frantically wielding his sword to drive away the vultures. He was outnumbered, the vultures still held their feast, but he stubbornly continued raising his sword to drive away vulture after vulture. His mind held only one thought: protect whatever bodies he could. He would drive away vultures until his life’s end.

Mao Qiang, who had come to clean the battlefield, witnessed this tragic scene under the vast sky – a bloodied warrior fighting against heaven itself until the final moment, knowing it was impossible but doing it anyway. This was a brave warrior.

Mao Qiang’s subordinates collected the military tags of the fallen, and Wang Ning personally lit fires to cremate his brothers.

Mao Qiang asked him: “You have a chance for revenge, but you must sever all connections with your past, become anonymous from now on, become another person. Wang Ning would no longer exist in this world, and you’d constantly face mortal danger. Are you willing?”

Looking at the tragic battlefield, Wang Ning removed the military tag from his waist and handed it to Mao Qiang: “I’m willing. Please take care of my mother, and find a good husband for my fiancée. Her name is Hu Shanwei, daughter of the Hu family bookstore owner on Chengxian Street.”

“I promise you.” Mao Qiang took the iron military tag and randomly grabbed some plant ash to put in a jar.

Thus Wang Ning died.

Mao Qiang thought fulfilling Wang Ning’s request would be simple – send money to his mother monthly, then have matchmakers find several men with better conditions than Wang Ning.

But when the widowed mother learned her only hope had died on the battlefield, she lost the will to live. Within three months, she died of depression – no good medicine or doctors could help. His fiancée Hu Shanwei repeatedly resisted marriage arrangements, even making the extreme gesture of wielding paper scissors to chase matchmakers from her door, vowing never to marry.

Mao Qiang was helpless. He couldn’t forcibly stuff Hu Shanwei into a bridal sedan. With this woman’s temperament, if pushed too hard, she’d likely commit suicide. Plus at the time, Hu Rong and his second wife Chen Shi seemed to love their daughter dearly, so Mao Qiang gave up. But unexpectedly, Chen Shi’s personality changed drastically, tormenting Hu Shanwei while her father Hu Rong remained coldly indifferent, forcing Hu Shanwei to seek another path and test for female official position.

As a result, Wang Ning, who had wholeheartedly sought death and sacrificed everything for the Ming Dynasty, returned alive. His mother was gone, his lover was gone. Wang Ning was ennobled as Earl Yongchun but became a lonely man – no one loved him, no one waited for him.

Mao Qiang sighed: “Since ancient times, loyalty and filial piety cannot both be fulfilled. Your mother died for the country and deserves this honor. Find an auspicious burial site, relocate her grave for a grand funeral – only this can make some amends.”

Wang Ning said: “What’s the use of posthumous ennoblement as Dowager Lady? My mother is already gone. I was unfilial – it’s my fault. I can never make up for this lifetime’s wrongs.”

Mao Qiang countered: “Besides posthumous ennoblement, what else can you do? The dead cannot be brought back to life. If given the chance to choose again, would you choose to return home defeated, marry Hu Shanwei, have a fat son, and spend your life by your mother’s side? Or fake your death to infiltrate the Northern Yuan Privy Council and provide intelligence for Ming’s northern expeditions?”

Wang Ning knelt on the ground, fists clenched tight, knuckles crackling. After who knows how long, he raised his head, tears streaming down his face: “I have no regrets in this life, only guilt.”

“My family is destroyed, but the Ming Dynasty has won two consecutive northern expeditions, protecting countless families’ homes. As a Ming soldier, how could I regret my choice? I feel guilty toward my mother and Hu Shanwei. I owe them debts I can never repay or make up for.”

Mao Qiang had never seen Wang Ning cry. When he protected his comrades’ corpses, fighting a flock of vultures with his sword; when he lit torches to cremate his comrades; when he removed his own military tag and severed all family ties – he never shed tears.

His mother’s death and his fiancée becoming like a stranger finally made him cry.

Mao Qiang once again felt grateful for choosing to remain single, with no attachments, not having to face the impossible choice between family and country. This “great demon” never knew how to comfort people, only how to state cruel facts:

“You can’t have everything. No one’s life goes smoothly, not even His Majesty has various helplessness and regrets. Properly relocate your mother’s grave to fulfill filial duty. I’ll find a way to arrange for you to serve outside the capital, far from this place of sorrow.”

“I’ll still go guard the northwest frontier.” Wang Ning stood up and signed and sealed the memorial requesting posthumous ennoblement of his mother as Dowager Lady of Earl Yongchun.

Mao Qiang closed the memorial, thought for a moment, and asked Wang Ning: “Your mother is dead and cannot be recovered. But Hu Shanwei… since you still have feelings for her, female officials who serve four or five years can request imperial grace to leave the palace. You two still have a chance for reconciliation. I can help you with this.”

Wang Ning’s eyes lit up with hope for happiness, but quickly dimmed: “As a military general, I’ll eventually have to go out to fight. I can’t accompany my wife and children like civil officials can. The Northern Yuan is powerful and will certainly disturb the borders again. The Ming will have many more northern expeditions. If faced again with choosing between family and country, I’d still choose country. I disappointed Shanwei once – should I disappoint her a second time? A third time?”

“I’ve already decided to be like Commander Mao, never marrying or having children in this life, protecting the country until death. Commander Mao, any physical pain cannot compare to the pain of abandoning family and loved ones. It’s too painful – I don’t want to experience it a second time.”

Mao Qiang watched Wang Ning’s staggering figure disappear into the night, hearing his desolate song: “…Today’s youth, tomorrow’s old age. The mountains remain the same, but people grow haggard.”

Wang Ning stumbled to the Urn Hall near Xi’an Gate.

Urn Hall was a bathhouse in Nanjing city with an underground hot spring. The bathhouse was shaped like an upside-down urn buried underground, hence called Urn Hall. The circular dome and walls were built from rocks and glutinous rice mortar.

Men in Nanjing city liked to soak at Urn Hall after drinking, finding it comfortable and relaxing. Wang Ning had grown up in Nanjing and had gone to Urn Hall with his father as a child. After four years away from home, he wanted to revisit old places.

When Wang Ning was nearly falling asleep soaking in the hot spring pool, Mu Chun received intelligence from Centurion Shi and found this place. He wrapped himself in a white cloth towel and walked down to the underground hot spring pool.

All the men in the pool were naked, Wang Ning included. Mu Chun looked through the pool water at Wang Ning’s “assets.”

Hmm, not as impressive as mine.

Mu Chun’s confidence surged. He pulled off the white towel from his waist and deliberately didn’t use the steps to enter the pool, instead leaping in with a splash, sending pool water flying like a rainstorm, waking the drowsy Wang Ning.

The splashing water also disturbed other customers. Someone was about to teach this man who didn’t know Urn Hall etiquette a lesson when his friend held him back, whispering: “The eldest son of Marquis Xiping, the famous troublemaker of the capital. Forget it, we can’t provoke him, but we can avoid him.”

Thus the hot spring pool’s customers instantly dispersed, leaving only Wang Ning and Mu Chun.

Mu Chun waved his fist at him: “Hey, dare you fight me? I’ve found you unpleasant for a long time.”

Making Sister Shanwei heartbroken – he really deserved a beating!

Wang Ning was still drunk and in the depths of despair. Hearing this, he said coldly: “What’s there not to dare? I’ve found you unpleasant for a long time too.”

The two roared and charged at each other to fight. In an instant, in the hot spring pool, complete chaos ensued.