The late autumn and early winter of the Northern Frontier brought an early chill. Not long ago, snow had fallen, and that thin layer of white atop the distant rolling mountains had never retreated since. However, in the slightly warmer city, the cypress trees still bore yellow-green leaves. Looking past those yellow-green branches toward the distant grassland snow mountains created a kind of cool-colored beauty.
This was Yuzhou in October, the border fortress city closest to the Hulun Grasslands. Due to the year-round stationing of heavy troops, the development of commerce, and the implementation of Grand Secretary Wei’s “Two Policies for Pacifying Yue” after the victorious war against Yue, Yuzhou’s economy was quite prosperous, earning it the title of “Imperial Capital of the Northern Frontier.”
Yuzhou’s eastern district had always been where the residences of various Northern Frontier generals were concentrated. The court’s military supervisors who came during wartime years also had courtyards there. For instance, that residence without a name plaque in Lane Thirty-Two of the eastern district was the temporary residence of Grand Secretary Xin, who served as military supervisor for nearly two years during the war against Yue two years prior.
After Military Supervisor Xin returned to the capital, this courtyard was left vacant, though the authorities did not reclaim it. This was because Grand Secretary Xin was known for his unconventional generosity, and during his time as military supervisor in the Northern Frontier, he had taken in many war refugees, settling them in his residence to do various odd jobs. When Military Supervisor Xin left, he specifically requested that the local authorities not reclaim the residence, giving these pitiful people a place to shelter. Since Xin Ziyan, a national minister, had personally requested this, and the authorities didn’t care about a single courtyard, they were naturally happy to curry favor. Occasionally, they would summon these people to help with miscellaneous tasks for a bit of money, and so these people settled down.
Early one morning, the gate of that courtyard opened, and a woman in blue cloth dress and skirt emerged carrying a basket, her gait somewhat unsteady. Behind her, someone could be faintly heard roughly instructing in a coarse voice: “…Aunt Mei, the vegetables yesterday weren’t fresh, don’t buy from that shop anymore!”
The woman responded in a low, hoarse voice. Someone strode over, cursing and grumbling: “Stupid woman, can’t even cook rice properly even now!”
The door behind her slammed shut with a bang, making the walls hum and vibrate.
The woman stood on the steps, pulling her somewhat thin clothing tighter against the cold wind. Her hair was disheveled, as if deliberately left unkempt. Through those somewhat greasy tangled strands, one could see her complexion was extremely mottled.
At first glance, it looked like sunlight shattering across her face creating different colored light and shadows. A second glance would make one gasp and realize that the woman’s face was covered with whitish and brownish spots, irregularly distributed across her cheeks and nose bridge, making her face look like an old yellow earthen wall with all its plaster peeled away.
Upon closer inspection, her features were still refined, but covered by such terrifying mottled marks, whatever refinement existed was completely erased.
She stood stupefied on the steps for quite a while, lifting her face toward the direction of the grasslands.
That vast and magnificent land appeared so close within sight, yet was somewhere she could never return to in this lifetime.
Just like her youth, her beauty, her first half of life enjoying over twenty years of wealth and honor—gone in a flash like sparks from a flint, vanished without trace.
“Aunt Mei going to buy vegetables?” A neighbor passed by, hurriedly calling out a greeting. Not wanting to lift their head to look at her face, they walked past hugging the wall, not even waiting for her response.
Her single “Mm” floated lonely in the early winter wind of Yuzhou.
Aunt Mei.
Everyone in Lane Thirty-Two and the Military Supervisor’s residence called her this. No one cared how old she really was or what her full name might be.
But only she herself knew.
This year she was not yet thirty.
And only she herself remembered that she once had a name as refined as her person.
Meiduo.
The woman who was once on the grasslands someone even the Grassland King had to respectfully address as “Aunt,” a princess-like figure, was now a cook in Yuzhou’s Military Supervisor’s residence.
That year, she had secretly colluded with Kelie and conspired with Great Yue, harming Dapeng of the Eight Hawks and nearly sabotaging the night raid on Whitehead Cliff. Afterward, Kelie was gravely wounded. Relying on not having been present at the scene and being familiar with the grasslands, she fled in panic. Initially she wanted to remain on the grasslands, but the remaining seven of the Eight Hawks rode daily with swords and arrows across the grasslands, looking like they would dig three feet underground to find her and wouldn’t rest until they did. Like a frightened bird, she hid here and there, ultimately not daring to remain on the grasslands. She brazenly tried to return to the Dezhou horse ranch owner’s family she had married into, only to discover that family had long ago been completely wiped out by an enraged Yao Yangyu, who reported them to the court for poisoning grain supplies. With nowhere to go, she drifted to Yuzhou. Without food or shelter and living in terrible conditions, the injuries Kelie had inflicted on her gradually worsened, eventually spreading throughout her body. Wherever she went, a foul stench followed, and everyone avoided her. Finally, one day when she was huddled under a broken hemp sack in a street corner waiting to die, she encountered Xin Ziyan.
The unconventional, easy-going Dean Xin who sympathized with the poor never hesitated to extend a helping hand. From then on, the Military Supervisor’s residence had an Aunt Mei.
But Aunt Mei was unwilling to remain just Aunt Mei. One night she knelt at Xin Ziyan’s feet, tearfully recounting her origins, begging Minister Xin to help her return to the grasslands. Of course, she concealed her betrayal of the grasslands.
However, Xin Ziyan was not someone who meddled blindly. He was only very interested in her mention of Helian Zheng personally escorting grain supplies for Wei Zhiyun. He asked her many questions about Wei Zhi and Helian Zheng, but ultimately told her to remain peacefully at the Military Supervisor’s residence. He would find someone to treat her illness and take care of her for the rest of her life. As for the grasslands, she should not return.
From then on, she remained in despair at the edge of the grasslands, destined to walk out her entire journey in baseness forever.
The October cold wind rushed over from the grasslands, cutting her face sharp as a knife. Meiduo did not avoid it, deeply breathing in a mouthful of wind carrying the scent of grass tips, missing milk cakes, glutinous rice cakes, and butter tea.
Yet in this lifetime, she would never taste them again. Those people, that most noble young man of the grasslands whom she had loved, that person whose life she had saved, ultimately abandoned her, neglected her, allowed others to trample her, leaving her alone in the world to struggle and suffer, and to struggle forever more.
The love that once burned so intensely now translated into equally bitter hatred.
She stood silently stunned for quite a while, then carried her vegetable basket to buy groceries. No matter how much resentment churned in her heart, the food still had to be prepared.
After buying vegetables on her way back, she passed by the Yuzhou government office. A bailiff stuck his head out and, seeing her, his eyes lit up. He beckoned repeatedly: “Aunt Mei, Aunt Mei, you’ve come at just the right time. Come, come, help us clean the master’s study. Superiors are coming for an urgent inspection, but the master went to the countryside with many people because of a case there. There’s no one in the office to do the work, so come help out.”
The Yuzhou prefect was stingy. The government office normally employed no servants, with all odd jobs undertaken by bailiffs. When they couldn’t manage, they would summon people like her who usually received the authorities’ care and still drew court relief funds. Meiduo was used to this and set down her vegetable basket before heading to the back quarters.
She expertly entered the study to sweep, wipe, tidy, and organize, sorting the various documents and letters scattered across the desk. Suddenly her hand stopped.
Then her hand slowly withdrew, her palm holding an ordinary official document letter. The white cover had been cut open and read; nothing seemed unusual about it.
But her expression was very strange, staring intently at a bit of light brown color showing through the white cover. She was very familiar with this color and style.
Having grown up in the Grassland King’s court, she naturally recognized this as the special secret letter paper used by the King’s court secret guards—hemp material, sturdy, not easily damaged, convenient for mounted men to carry.
Why would a secret letter from the Grassland King’s court appear on the desk of a Yuzhou government office?
After thinking, she understood. The court had always both respected and guarded against the grasslands. As the border city closest to the grasslands, Yuzhou inevitably had specialized scout lines for monitoring grassland conditions. This was probably a King’s court secret letter inadvertently intercepted by some spy. But the King’s court always transmitted secret letters using the ancient script unique to the Huzhuo tribe. How could Yuzhou office officials possibly recognize it? They probably took it for something unimportant and casually tossed it here.
Holding that letter, her heart suddenly pounded several times.
As if suddenly, with a thunderous sound, a door opened in the eternal darkness before her, revealing a crack of light.
What lay behind the door, she didn’t know, but at this moment, if she didn’t push open this door, she would never be reconciled.
Meiduo almost unhesitatingly pulled out that letter.
As expected, it was in ancient Huzhuo script. That type of writing looked more like a child’s scribbles, very capable of confusing people who didn’t recognize these characters, so even if intercepted, there was no need to panic.
No one knew that in worldly affairs, through coincidences of fate, those who should have died did not die, and through twists and turns, drew near to destiny’s cold arrangements.
Meiduo hastily finished reading and frowned.
The letter said that the previous batch of horses had been delivered, the transaction was pleasant, and now that winter was approaching and the grasslands needed to stockpile grain for famine preparation, another batch could be sent. The previous gate guard at Mayu Pass had now been replaced, and with the general currently absent and no one to provide cover, they suggested changing routes, even if more circuitous, for the sake of safety, and so forth.
At the end was another line saying that the National Father, having received news that was too peaceful recently, deeply disagreed with it, feeling that a certain person must be concealing something. He asked if the Great King had heard any stirrings domestically to relay to him promptly.
Meiduo didn’t understand either passage, only vaguely feeling they concerned major matters. Especially that title “National Father” made her feel an excited tremor—clearly this letter was for Helian Zheng. No one else had that level of correspondence. The mention of “domestically” indicated that National Father was from another country. Who could that be?
She turned abruptly, looking at the map of Tiansheng hanging on the wall. Following the grasslands downward in careful search, she found that place name “Mayu Pass” at the border between Longbei and Minnan.
That place was already provinces away from the grasslands. What kind of horse trade would go that far?
Meiduo thought for a while. She ultimately wasn’t clever enough, and being long ill, her mind wasn’t very clear. She couldn’t arrive at the correct conclusion. If it had been Feng Zhiwei, she would have immediately touched upon the shocking truth. But she only stared blankly at that place name, thinking for ages that this was probably the Great King’s annual tea-horse trade for winter famine preparation.
So she set it aside, only thinking about the latter passage. At this moment, she suddenly heard commotion in the distance—probably the inspectors had arrived. She quickly put things back and left through the side door.
She returned to the Military Supervisor’s residence and was about to carefully explain to her companions the reason for her late return when the steward left at the residence waved a letter at her: “Aunt Mei, the Grand Secretary sent a letter from the capital saying he sought a prescription from the Imperial Medical Bureau to treat your illness and told us to show it to you.” He then pointed to a carriage waiting outside the door: “The Grand Secretary has been transferred to a post in Shannan. He says there are famous physicians there too. If you’re worried about getting medicine and taking it yourself, you can also go with the carriage.”
Amid everyone’s envious sighs of admiration, Meiduo took the letter and returned to her room. The letter did indeed contain a prescription, but at the end of the letter were a few more lines.
“Two years ago you told me that Wei Zhi once helped Helian Zheng train Huzhuo cavalry using a secret method. Do you still remember what this secret method was? If you have leisure time, I’ll have you brought to Shannan to describe this method to me in complete detail. The Huzhuo cavalry trained through this secret method have formidable combat power unmatched in the world. If we could apply this method to the court’s armies, the nation would have no worries.”
The words were simple. Xin Ziyan naturally couldn’t say too much to someone like Meiduo, and this reason was reasonable and logical. Meiduo didn’t think about why, since she had already mentioned this matter to Xin Ziyan long ago, Xin Ziyan hadn’t immediately requested this secret method at the time.
That year when Xin Ziyan heard about this matter, he was already moved. Wei Zhi, as a close minister of the Son of Heaven, had helped the grasslands train cavalry but hadn’t presented the marvelous training method to the court. If this matter reached Emperor Tiansheng’s ears, at minimum it would be ‘disloyalty to the court,’ at worst it could be charged as harboring treasonous intent. But at that time, Wei Zhi’s attitude was unclear. In Xin Ziyan’s eyes, he was a powerful assistant who must be guarded against but could be drawn as much as possible into Prince Chu’s camp, so he only kept this matter in his heart.
That’s why when he was imprisoned, he furiously declared to Feng Zhiwei: Don’t think I have no way to deal with you.
That’s why when Fat Little Flower died before his eyes, the matter pressed in his heart for several years immediately surfaced.
Meiduo tilted her head and thought, revealing a somewhat blank expression. She was just a woman who wasn’t very familiar with military matters to begin with. Moreover, although Feng Zhiwei had already given pointers to the Huzhuo cavalry earlier, Meiduo’s thoughts had all been on Helian Zheng—where would she have paid attention to this? When Feng Zhiwei began training grassland cavalry in large numbers, Meiduo had already been sent away from the grasslands to marry in Dezhou. Later when Kelie secretly brought her back, it was only from Kelie’s mouth that she learned there was a Han youth called Wei Zhi who had quite a knack for training cavalry. But as for the specific methods, how could she possibly explain them?
She stood there stunned, racking her brain for ages. The carriage outside was already urging her. Suddenly her heart brightened. She gave a cold laugh, stood up, packed her simple bundle, and hurriedly stepped out the door.
On winter days on the grasslands, daylight faded very early. By the hour of Wei, the sun had already set behind the mountains. Herdsmen fed their horses early and burrowed into their tents. Before long, the mingled scents of sheep’s milk and meat wafted in wisps, enveloping the entire grassland.
Budaluo Second Palace stood quietly in the twilight, black and white in stark silence under the setting sun’s afterglow.
“This year’s grain supplies are quite sufficient.” In the rear hall of the King’s court, the noisy mistress of Budaluo Second Palace, Peony Flower, lounged with one leg crossed over the other, gazing smugly at the cooking smoke outside: “Looks like we can have a well-fed year.”
Helian Zheng sat under the lamp, silently leafing through a pile of letters. He looked up to instruct the Seven Hawks: “Tomorrow drive out the last batch of horses from the pen, then stop. We need to keep our own horses ready too.”
“What do you still want to trade with Xi Liang?” Peony Flower rolled over and sat up in one motion. “We have enough grain for ourselves to eat. That route is too far with too many variables. If something goes wrong, it’s no joke.”
“Need to stockpile more grain supplies.” Helian Zheng focused on reading military reports from Tiansheng’s southwest, answering casually without lifting his head.
As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he’d misspoken. The room fell silent. Helian Zheng gathered up the military reports and raised his head to see his mother staring at him with the alert gaze of a mother leopard.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Is it because I’m becoming more handsome?” Helian Zheng grinned at his mother, then suddenly widened his eyes and made a great fuss of touching her face: “Oh my goodness, this is terrible—you’ve got forehead wrinkles appearing!”
If it had been any other time, Peony Flower, who loved beauty like her life, would definitely have had her attention diverted to first smooth away those so-called forehead wrinkles. But now she was completely unmoved, her dark eyes burning as she stared intently at Helian Zheng, saying in a deep voice: “Tell me, Jigou’er, what exactly are your plans?”
“What plans?” Helian Zheng unnaturally turned his gaze away, looking left and right: “Nothing much.”
“You damned brat!” Peony Flower suddenly jumped up and kicked the military reports flying: “Nothing much? You’re paying attention to southwest military intelligence, you’ve been conducting horse market trades with Xi Liang thousands of miles away through Changning, you’re stockpiling and stockpiling even though we already have enough grain, you’re drilling the most elite Shunyi cavalry day and night constantly expanding the troops, and you’re even secretly sending people to mine that black gold deposit—you think I don’t know? Stockpiling grain for the tribe’s famine preparation was already sufficient, so why are you still frantically hoarding? Grain supplies, grain supplies, provisions, provisions—before the army moves, prepare the logistics first. Don’t think that after decades by your father’s side, your mother is stupid enough not to know even this!”
Helian Zheng stood in the middle of the room. With a wave of his hand, the Seven Hawks didn’t dare breathe and quietly slipped away. Only after the room fell completely silent did he turn around, his gem-like eyes fixed on his mother. After a long while he said: “So what if you know?”
“You damned Jigou’er!” Peony Empress Dowager, nearly driven to sagging breasts by her son’s defiance, flew into a rage: “So what? So what? So what? How long has the grasslands been at peace? Internal fighting followed by external fighting, tribespeople constantly being consumed. It took these years to finally see some improvement, and you still want to drag whom onto horses with swords? Before your father died, he told me the grasslands needed peace. Your mother fought with all her strength to preserve intact grasslands for you, wanting nothing more than for our Huzhuo twelve tribes to recover and not start wars. The tribespeople trust you and follow you, not to be dragged wholesale onto battlefields as corpses—you, you, you—you, you, you—” Peony Empress Dowager’s bosom heaved turbulently. Halfway through her words, she was literally so angry they got tangled.
Helian Zheng kept his hands in his sleeves, listening impassively. He knew his mother would inevitably have this reaction. Back when she had even blocked sending troops to help Tiansheng attack Great Yue, how much more so now with his current plan? His Peony Flower had always been a peace lover.
“You’re overthinking.” Shunyi Great King was very succinct today, but every sentence was like a cannonball blocking his mother’s mouth.
“Am I overthinking?” Peony Flower threw open her hands, looking somewhat bewildered at her son. After a long while she shook her head: “Jigou’er, you crawled out of my belly. When you wag your tail, I know what you’re pissing. You’re preparing for war, and moreover, you’re preparing for war for Feng Zhiwei.”
Helian Zheng rolled his eyes, sat down, and simply ignored her, pouring himself a cup of butter tea to drink with relish.
“Good son.” Seeing scolding didn’t work, Peony Flower switched to psychological tactics, squeezing and pressing close: “I know you fancy Zhiwei, I know Zhiwei has shown grace to our grasslands, but we can’t repay that grace by betting the entire grasslands, can we? You still want to be that… what was it called?” She rolled her eyes thinking for ages: “Edward the Whatever? Give up the kingdom for a beauty? The problem is, does she need it?”
Helian Zheng tilted his head drinking his tea in large gulps, ignoring his mother’s strange words. His long eyelashes drooped down, concealing his shifting kaleidoscope eyes. Such obstruction was within expectations. Peony Flower deeply loved the grasslands and wouldn’t allow anyone to trample or covet them, nor would she allow anyone to bring crisis to the grasslands. Zhiwei’s grace to the grasslands wouldn’t make her willing to throw the grasslands into warfare.
In fact, Zhiwei had no such plans. This could be seen from her consistently only reporting good news and not bad. But even if Zhiwei didn’t want it, he had to give it.
Hua Qiong, merely for the grace of saving her husband, could take great risks for Feng Zhiwei. Could he, Helian Zheng, who had called Feng Zhiwei Great Consort for so many years and received her grace for the grasslands, end up being less than a woman?
Whatever she wanted to do, he would prepare for it. Helian Zheng had no grand ambitions in life, nor did he care for grand ambitions. The only thing Helian Zheng wanted to do was to be his Little Aunt’s hero!
Of course, this grand ambition need not be told to Peony Flower. She would stuff his mouth in the middle of the night with that weird belly wrap of hers covered in milk stains and butter tea, then beat him severely.
“Be good.” Shunyi Great King finished his tea, set down the bowl, and suddenly pulled his mother into an embrace: “I told you you’re overthinking. Yes, I’m preparing for war, but who told you I’m preparing for war for Zhiwei? Look, right now Tiansheng’s situation is unstable. Although the fighting is in the southwest, when a nation is in turmoil, the borders suffer first. As one of the few major separatist forces in the world, shouldn’t we make some early preparations? We won’t attack others, but what if others bully us? What if Great Yue sees Tiansheng caught in warfare and wants to take advantage of the fire to rob? It’s not like they haven’t done this before. If Great Yue comes, they must pass through Hulun Grasslands. You can’t let our sons drag rusty swords and ride horses with bellies dragging on the ground into battle, can you?”
Peony Flower looked at him half-believingly, pointing at his nose: “You’re really not lying?”
“If I’m lying to you, I’m Liu Mudan!” Helian Zheng swore to heaven: “With sagging breasts!”
“Ptui!” Peony Flower slapped Helian Zheng’s hand away, stood up and walked several circles, sighing: “Dog’er, don’t blame your mother for being heartless. Mother is afraid you’ll do something foolish. Mother understands Zhiwei’s grace and has always remembered it. As long as she’s willing, no matter how destitute she becomes, our grasslands dares to shelter and protect her for life. But we have no right to use the entire grasslands’ sons’ lives and deaths to repay… Mother watched those children grow up, and Mother can’t bear to part with them.”
“I know, I already told you it has nothing to do with Zhiwei.” Helian Zheng grinned and touched his mother’s face: “My old beauty, don’t you know Zhiwei isn’t the type to demand repayment by holding grace over people? You can’t bear to part with the grasslands’ sons—can she? If she could bear it, she wouldn’t have helped us so much back then. You’ve seen all her letters and such—has she mentioned this matter even once? It’s a non-issue, don’t worry.”
“Beauty is beauty, why add the word ‘old’?” Peony Empress Dowager raised her eyebrows and gave her son a light kick: “Chamu Tu is five years old. Tomorrow I’m taking him to Huyin Temple for initiation. You behave yourself.”
“Respectfully seeing off the Empress Dowager!” Helian Zheng bowed with a grin, cheerfully seeing his mother off. As soon as the Empress Dowager’s figure disappeared outside, the smile on his face vanished like starlight hidden behind clouds.
He clapped his hands and the Seven Hawks cautiously entered.
“Last time you said a messenger lost a letter.” After standing lost in thought for quite a while, Helian Zheng said in a deep voice: “I’ve felt somewhat uneasy about it.”
“Great King, rest assured. The King’s court letters are all written in ancient script. Only limited people can recognize it. Apart from the Yinjier King’s court people, who could?” Fourth Leopard answered carelessly: “I can’t think of any of those Han people who could recognize that script. We’ve never used that script for anything with the Tiansheng side.”
“All people who know this script are under control, right?”
“Yes.”
“Your Great Consort once said,” Helian Zheng’s lips curved in a faint smile, his kaleidoscope gem eyes brilliantly radiant, “even the most meticulous plan will have a flaw. To avoid losing, first avoid flaws.”
The Seven Hawks looked at each other, feeling the Great Consort’s words were indeed not understandable by ordinary people, all looking at their Great King with admiring eyes.
“I’ve thought it over,” Helian Zheng turned around: “This route we’ve been taking through the southwest warfare and Changning turning a blind eye, we should quit while ahead. At minimum, before next spring, we can’t use it again. We don’t know what that lost letter said, and no news has come from the Xi Liang side yet. Originally in my opinion, since this incident occurred, we should have first cut off this route to avoid bringing future trouble to Zhiwei. But as you’ve all seen, Peony Great Consort has already discovered the abnormality. If we want to prepare further, it will be difficult. So this time I’ll personally lead the team and make one last trip.”
“Great King.” Third Falcon immediately objected: “You are the grasslands’ most noble eagle. How can you for such a small matter…”
“This isn’t a small matter.” Helian Zheng cut off his words: “Your Great Consort said, to avoid losing, first avoid flaws. Your Great Consort also said that in worldly affairs with rising and falling crises, if you feel uneasy about anything, you must personally investigate. Entrusting others is not as reliable as trusting yourself.”
The Seven Hawks rolled their eyes and said nothing, toes scraping on the ground. They thought this might not really be what the Great Consort said—eighty percent you’re missing the Great Consort and looking for an excuse to go inland. If you don’t secretly go look at the Imperial Capital after finishing Xi Liang, we’re not the Seven Hawks, we’re the Seven Dogs!
“It’s decided then.” Helian Zheng was radiant with vigor and heroic spirit, waving his hand grandly: “The last horse market trip, we’ll go personally and exchange for a batch of good weapons!”
“Yes!”
The next day, when the first rays of dawn illuminated the pale yellow winter grasslands, the mounted Peony Flower departed with her young son from Budaluo Second Palace for initiation at Huyin Temple.
Less than a quarter hour after she left, the sneaky Grassland Great King in a large cloak, face masked and covered, scuttled out the palace gates. With his Seven Hawks, he drove out the last batch of healthy horses from the pen and set out on the distant journey.