The Tartars dwelled north of the Central Plains. Decades ago, they were driven back by the iron cavalry of the Great Qian Dynasty and thus retreated from the Southern Desert. For many years since, they had submitted to the Central Plains and no longer invaded the borders. Their territory was vast and barren, with the people living as nomads with few permanent settlements. Only the Olun River flowed through their land, and thanks to its abundant water and grass, settlements gradually formed along its banks over the years.

The Tartar royal capital was built in the bend of the Olun River’s middle reaches.

After nightfall, lamps were lit inside the yurt adorned with five-colored silk ribbons. From a distance, it looked like an enormous lantern.

In the distance stood several small hills.

On one of the south-facing slopes, one could faintly make out a tall, magnificent horse, and beside it stood a woman dressed in barbarian clothing.

A maid approached from afar. Seeing that slender, frail silhouette, she nearly burst into tears.

With great difficulty, she composed herself and walked forward with a smile on her face, cheerfully calling out: “Your Highness, it’s already late. The wind is so strong at night—please be careful not to let it harm your health. Let us return to the tent!”

Shen Zhiyi remained motionless.

She gazed far into the distance at the southeastern homeland, now swallowed by vast dust and deep purple darkness, and asked only: “Still no news?”

The northern lands were bitterly cold with a dry climate and heavy sandstorms.

Without the nourishing winds and waters of the Central Plains, her once delicate and radiant face inevitably bore traces of wind and frost. Though she remained as lovely as before, her formerly plump cheeks had grown gaunt, giving her an almost emaciated appearance.

Yet compared to the changes in her features, the most startling transformation was perhaps in those eyes.

The heavy twilight seemed to have sunk into them like ink in water.

The lively light that once shone in them had been worn away entirely by hardship and suffering, yet now they resembled a dagger hidden in its sheath, possessing an unprecedented, restrained sharpness!

The maid naturally knew what the princess had endured these past years.

When they first entered the Xiongnu royal court, they had numbered more than twenty palace attendants.

Yet within less than a year, only four remained. Of those who left, some couldn’t endure the harsh conditions of the northern desert and fled; some missed their homeland thousands of miles away and requested leave; and others suffered torture and punishment at the hands of Tartar nobles and couldn’t survive…

On the surface, she was an incomparably noble imperial princess who had come for a marriage alliance.

But beneath that magnificent crown lay a cruel shackle!

Rather than calling her a dynasty’s princess and the Tartar king’s consort, it would be more accurate to call her a prisoner whose fate was no longer her own.

The maid couldn’t bear to reveal the news from outside. She simply walked up and gently tugged at the princess’s sleeve, saying: “The secret letter was only just sent out. Even if it reaches the border, those people wouldn’t dare act on their own—they must send it to the capital to report to His Majesty before making any decisions. You are a princess of Great Qian, of royal blood. His Majesty and the Empress Dowager will certainly order troops to attack the Xiongnu and rescue you!”

Would they certainly rescue her?

Shen Zhiyi’s distant gaze dropped downward. In the late autumn season, the trees were withered yellow and dying grass stretched endlessly. She looked down at the grass turf that had been nibbled by horses, bent down, and picked up a rotted grass root from the yellow-black soil, suddenly smiling.

The peonies in the Forbidden City were carefully tended by people, unable to withstand wind or rain.

But the wild grass of the northern desert took deep root in barren soil, discarding its bright colors and keeping itself low to the ground, all to survive the onslaught of drought and cold in this small patch of earth.

Under the northern wind, her fingers had already grown ice-cold.

Gazing at this grass root, she let out a long sigh: “I once thought that by becoming a blade of grass, I could eventually wait for spring to come. But this autumn, this winter—they’re both too long, far too long…”

In the distance, an evening horn sounded near the yurt.

In the desolate wind, it sounded exactly like a prolonged wail.

The last bit of daylight on the hillside faded away, and Shen Zhiyi’s figure finally merged with the boundless darkness, becoming indistinguishable from it.

On the night before departure, Jiang Xuening had a nightmare.

She dreamed she stood atop the high city walls of the capital. The faces of those around her were all blurred, and their voices rose and fell in a chaotic cacophony that was difficult to distinguish. She seemed to be striving desperately to discern something from it all.

It was the sound of weeping coming from the far end of the long street.

Snow-white ceremonial procession guards flowed like a thin river, gradually drawing closer. A grand and solemn coffin floated silently atop this river.

Though she stood on the city wall, so very far away, she somehow saw it all clearly in an instant.

And in that instant of clarity, the city wall beneath her feet suddenly collapsed.

She plummeted from the heights. In her terror, she cried out frantically: “No—”

She bolted upright in bed, cold sweat covering her forehead. Though she had awakened, that hazy, eerie feeling from the dream still lingered in her body. Jiang Xuening sat inside the bed curtains for quite some time, slowly placing her hand over her chest, the lingering fear still unabated.

She rose and pushed open the window, gazing outside.

The sky over Jiangnan was just beginning to lighten.

A solitary lamp hung in the corridor.

Xiebai Residence was located in Wuyi Alley, with no merchants nearby. At this hour, there were neither common people toiling at their work nor vendors rising early and retiring late, so it was completely silent, as isolated as a lonely island cut off from the world.

Today they would set out for the border.

Jiang Xuening didn’t know what her dream portended, nor did she wish to speculate whether everyone had their own predetermined fate. She only knew that if she wanted to change things, she had no choice but to forge ahead relentlessly.

Even if it meant conspiring with a tiger, becoming its accomplice!

At the end of the mao hour, two maids carried her luggage as Jiang Xuening left Xiebai Residence.

A carriage already waited punctually outside the door.

The sky was between light and darkness.

Standing beside the carriage was neither Daoqin nor Jianshu, but rather Lu Xian dressed in a scholar’s long robe.

This merchant from the capital, possessed of learning and knowledge far surpassing his peers, was full of calculating schemes befitting his trade, yet his appearance was so refined and proper that it made those unaware of his true nature admire him deeply.

When Jiang Xuening saw him, her steps faltered.

Lu Xian had crossed paths with her yesterday outside Xie Wei’s door at the villa. Now he cupped his hands in greeting and said with a smile: “Miss Ning Er seems rather displeased to see Lu.”

Jiang Xuening held no particular grudge against him, but yesterday’s conversation with Xie Wei had been quite unpleasant.

She had never liked being forced to do things.

Though she had indeed organized all the major and minor accounts and was prepared to devote her entire fortune to rescuing the princess, these plans did not include being coerced.

Yet Xie Wei had used Grand Princess Leyang as leverage.

So now, looking at this number one strategist under Xie Wei’s command, she felt less than pleased.

Her attitude was far from warm. She merely returned the greeting coolly: “Yesterday I already instructed Fangying to remain in Jiangnan. Whatever tasks Boss Lu has, she will carry them out. Though the affairs are complex and the enterprises not particularly large, we can produce several hundred thousand in silver currency. Boss Lu should be so busy his feet don’t touch the ground right now. Coming here in person today—could it be that some accounts don’t match up, and you have some instruction to give?”

Lu Xian shook his head: “That’s not it.”

He should know that his appearance here was concealed even from Xie Wei.

Jiang Xuening raised an eyebrow: “Oh?”

Lu Xian looked directly at her and said: “I’ve come because I have a favor to ask.”

A favor?

Jiang Xuening was confused.

But today they were heading north, and she had agreed with Xie Wei to meet outside Jinling City at the second quarter of the chen hour. She didn’t have much time to waste.

She asked: “Long story or short?”

Lu Xian paused: “It’s a long story.”

Jiang Xuening waved her hand: “I must be on my way, so please board the carriage, Boss Lu, and speak as we travel.”

Lu Xian: “…”

His gaze shifted to the carriage. His face nearly turned green, as if he were looking not at a sturdy, spacious carriage but at a death cell.

Jiang Xuening asked strangely: “Boss Lu won’t board?”

Lu Xian pressed down his twitching eyelid, gritted his teeth, and thought that perhaps he wouldn’t be so unlucky as to be caught red-handed later. Steeling himself and closing his eyes, he boarded the carriage.

The two sat facing each other.

Jiang Xuening instructed the driver to head outside the city first, then turned to Lu Xian: “What favor does Boss Lu wish to ask?”

Lu Xian’s fingers rested on his knees, but he gave Jiang Xuening a thorough once-over.

After quite some time, he said: “Over these years, Miss Ning Er has traded silk and transported salt, traveling to various places. I wonder if you’ve ever heard of a place called ‘Yin County’?”

Indeed, as Lu Xian said, Jiang Xuening had been to quite a few places over the years.

The maps of the Central Plains were basically engraved in her mind.

It was a small place in Ningbo, Zhejiang.

She thought for a moment and said: “I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there.”

A look of reminiscence appeared on Lu Xian’s face, and he smiled slightly: “To be honest, when Lu was a youth traveling for his studies, I visited this place. The local customs were simple and honest, the countryside peaceful. However, many years ago, this place appointed a new county magistrate. Over those years, when collecting taxes, there was an unwritten rule. Common folk paid their taxes by wrapping coins in white paper with their names written on it and depositing them in a box; while the local gentry and wealthy households paid their taxes by wrapping coins in red paper with their names written on it, also depositing them in the box.”

Upon hearing this, Jiang Xuening frowned slightly.

Though she didn’t know why Lu Xian was telling her all this, the fact that common people and wealthy gentry used different colored paper to distinguish their tax payments obviously meant the government office was up to something shady.

Sure enough, Lu Xian continued: “For all red paper tax payments, the government office handled everything according to the law. But when they encountered white paper tax payments, the government office runners would demand the common people pay extra money on top of the taxes set by the court, calling it tea money and hardship money for the officials. At first it was only an extra tenth, but later they demanded a fifth more.”

Jiang Xuening said: “That dog official had quite the audacity.”

Lu Xian laughed: “Indeed, audacious as could be. So as time went on and the tax burden grew heavier, the common people grew unwilling. Thus they made a commotion and gathered to petition. It so happened that someone literate who could write characters was passing through the area. Knowing that the government office’s actions violated regulations, he wrote a complaint for them. With this person as their leader, a group of people went from the countryside into the city, went to the government office, and demanded that the office abolish the distinction between red and white paper and equalize the grain tax.”

Jiang Xuening said: “The government office has soldiers. It’s simple for common people to make trouble, but succeeding is another matter. This scholar knew the law from his studies yet still wanted to meddle in others’ affairs—I fear he brought fire upon himself.”

Lu Xian glanced at her, his smile fading somewhat.

He only said: “Exactly. It was merely a bunch of country bumpkins having someone write complaints and proclamations for them—how could the county magistrate take them seriously? As the saying goes, kill the chicken to scare the monkeys. Without a word, the county magistrate had this person arrested and thrown in prison, charging him with the crime of ‘gathering a crowd.’ Under our dynasty’s laws, gathering a crowd is a serious offense—at minimum, it warrants immediate execution.”

Jiang Xuening’s brows knitted together.

She already sensed that Lu Xian telling this story was secondary—this person was probably the main point.

Her eyes rolled, and she said: “This person you’re talking about—could it be yourself?”

Lu Xian immediately shook his head: “Lu is but a common man who seeks advantage and avoids harm. If I encountered such a matter, I’d avoid it before it was too late. How could I wade into such murky waters?”

Jiang Xuening was noncommittal: “What happened next?”

Lu Xian said: “This person petitioned on behalf of the common people, yet was suddenly sentenced to immediate execution. Who among the country folk wasn’t enraged? Moreover, it happened to be a disaster year, with troubles both within and without. In their fury, they actually gathered many people, surged into the city, surrounded the county office, rescued him, and not only that—they dragged the county magistrate down from his seat and beat him. Then they escorted him to the City God Temple and publicly humiliated him, forcing him to write a notice stating that grain taxes would henceforth be equalized. Finally, they set fire to the county office and burned it down.”

As the saying goes, poor mountains and bad waters produce unruly people.

The folk customs were simple and honest, true, but they were also fierce—that was also true.

Jiang Xuening said: “This brought great disaster.”

Lu Xian sighed softly: “Who says otherwise? Every single thing was a crime worthy of beheading, and burning the county office was tantamount to treason. With the county magistrate reduced to this state, he naturally became useless. The provincial governor’s office quickly dispatched a new county magistrate named Zhou Guangqing. Miss Ning Er has been to Ningbo, so you should know this man now holds the rank of prefect and has considerable ability.”

Jiang Xuening was curious: “How did he resolve it?”

Lu Xian said: “When Zhou Guangqing took office, he first summoned these rioting villagers one by one and asked them whether they intended to rebel.”

Jiang Xuening’s heart grew cold.

Lu Xian sneered: “The villagers had acted in a moment of hot-headed fury. Only after calming down did they realize that burning the county office was a treasonous crime—how could they dare admit it? They had originally only wanted to equalize the grain tax. Before Zhou Guangqing, they naturally denied it repeatedly. Zhou Guangqing asked about the circumstances, then sternly demanded to know—if the office was burned, how could they claim it wasn’t rebellion? The villagers, not having seen much or knowing much, panicked and all asked Zhou Guangqing what they should do.”

The villagers didn’t understand the law. Burning the office was a moment of lawless audacity, but when the blade was held to their necks, who could not fear death?

Jiang Xuening had already anticipated this outcome.

She said: “Half coaxing, half threatening—this way he settled the matter without lifting a finger.”

Lu Xian sneered coldly: “More than that! Zhou Guangqing had been an official for many years and knew well that to govern the people as an official, the taxes must come from the people. If he investigated so many people’s crimes, he feared forcing the people to rebel. So he came up with an idea for these people. He said, this matter has escalated so greatly that the court will certainly dispatch imperial inspectors to investigate. If you’re afraid, why not first clear yourselves by writing a petition to the county office stating that you did not enter the city to riot. He also said he would immediately equalize the grain tax for them and have them quickly pay this year’s grain tax to prove they had no rebellious intent. This way, when the imperial inspector and soldiers came to investigate, they would capture the ringleader and wouldn’t arrest them.”

He paused here.

Jiang Xuening was full of admiration: “Divide and conquer, cutting them down while beating them. What a pity for this meddling person—I fear he’s in for bad luck.”

Lu Xian listened to the sound of the carriage wheels rolling over the ground and the gradually livelier sounds of the market they were passing through, and smiled faintly: “Within seven days, hundreds of petitions clearing themselves of involvement were delivered to Zhou Guangqing’s desk, each declaring they had not rioted, would obey orders, submit to regulations, pay taxes as usual, and had drawn a clear line between themselves and that ‘ringleader.’ This person had already been rescued and his whereabouts were unknown. The government office posted a notice offering a reward of three hundred taels for his capture, forbidding anyone from harboring him and calling on the villagers to report his whereabouts to the authorities.”

Jiang Xuening fell silent.

Suddenly she felt a trace of sorrow: “Common people must support their families. Faced with life and death, who can refrain from retreating? It’s merely human nature. But this person did help them after all—surely they wouldn’t report him to the authorities, would they?”

Lu Xian laughed loudly: “Miss Ning Er said it yourself—this is human nature. Thus, with wealth before them to stir their hearts, and as long as they didn’t catch the person, the matter couldn’t be settled and who knew whether they might be blamed again? Within three days, someone reported him to the authorities.”

Jiang Xuening was immediately speechless.

Lu Xian continued leisurely: “However, this person was not captured by government soldiers sent by the authorities. He turned himself in of his own accord.”

Jiang Xuening was suddenly stunned.

This was greatly beyond her expectations: “How could that be?”

Lu Xian said: “Back then, I thought the same thing—how could it be?”

It was a sunny afternoon.

Everything in the county town went on as usual, bustling with activity.

Lu Xian was in an inn pondering over composing poetry when suddenly he heard runners passing by in the street, running while shouting that the chief culprit of the crowd gathering and rebellion had turned himself in and gone to the county office.

In an instant, the entire town emptied.

Having heard the news, the villagers all went there.

In front of the rebuilt county office, heads crowded together, spectators packed like walls.

Zhou Guangqing sat high in the hall.

Lu Xian squeezed into the crowd and looked toward the hall below.

He had always maintained that matters that didn’t concern him should be left well alone. He thought this person who had gotten involved and gotten himself covered in mud was foolish enough, and now he was turning himself in—what kind of bookworm or reckless fool must he be?

Yet when he finally saw clearly, he was shocked and stunned.

The man standing in the hall wore a snow-white Daoist robe, standing tall and upright with a serene and imposing presence, his features handsome and distinguished.

Where was there even half an air of violent mob or bandit about him?

Only five parts composed self-possession and five parts calm tranquility. Though he stood in a dangerous government hall, observed by all, there wasn’t the slightest bit of anxiety or unease.

By contrast, the surrounding villagers all had evasive gazes and guilty expressions.

That day, Zhou Guangqing personally conducted the court trial.

Lu Xian thought Zhou Guangqing, like himself, must remember that day vividly: “This person admitted everything he had done without denial. Though Zhou Guangqing had devised this scheme to divide people and sow discord, he hadn’t expected this person to turn himself in. At the time, he probably felt that great men should be like this, and couldn’t help but praise him in words, calling him someone who took responsibility for his own actions. But the man looked at those villagers for a long time. Not one person dared meet his gaze directly—they all lowered their heads. Yet he remained perfectly calm, showing no sign of joy or anger. Then, he said something.”

Jiang Xuening had been listening quite intently and unconsciously asked: “What did he say?”

The wind lifted the carriage curtain as people bustled past outside.

Lu Xian’s gaze fell on the scene outside the window. Recalling this matter, it felt like a dream. He only said: “He said: ‘Now that the world is settled, I should naturally be cooked!'”

Now that the world is settled, I should naturally be cooked!

In the history books, when Han Xin reached his dead end, he once said: When the cunning rabbits die, the hunting dogs are cooked; when the high-flying birds are gone, the good bow is stored away; when the enemy state is destroyed, the strategic ministers perish.

It was precisely that: all under heaven bustle for profit; all under heaven jostle for gain.

The hearts of people could shift allegiance in an instant.

After careful consideration, Jiang Xuening fell into silence.

Lu Xian then said: “What does Miss Ning Er think of this person?”

Jiang Xuening observed him for a long moment before saying: “Boss Lu came here of your own accord to say you have a favor to ask. You are also a person of high ambition and great talent. There are not many people in the world who can make you look up to them. I hadn’t realized that Teacher Xie originally had this incident in his past.”

She had guessed it after all.

Lu Xian couldn’t help but sigh.

Yet Jiang Xuening was quite cold: “But what does this have to do with me?”

Lu Xian stared at her, only recalling Xie Wei’s extremely abnormal behavior these past two years. After a long while, he said: “Lu once passed the imperial examinations, achieved the rank of presented scholar, yet willingly serves under Xie Ju’an’s command. Miss, do you know why?”

Jiang Xuening said: “Isn’t it because though he may not always win, no matter what happens, he won’t lose?”

Lu Xian was first startled, then laughed aloud: “That’s also correct.”

Jiang Xuening snorted lightly.

But Lu Xian continued: “Yet it’s not only that.”

Jiang Xuening said: “Don’t tell me it’s also because you respect his character?”

Lu Xian was silent for a moment, then slowly said: “You may not believe this, but the reason I serve him is not only admiration for his strength, but more like encountering someone drowning and wanting to pull them up.”

Someone drowning, pull them up?

That man surnamed Xie with his ruthless methods—where would he need others’ pity?

Jiang Xuening thought Lu Xian’s brain had a hole in it.

Lu Xian said: “I’ve come here only because I think that heaven and earth are like a furnace, and the mortal world like purgatory. Xie Ju’an struggles within it, but he’s merely a pitiable person. This journey to the border is long and changes are unpredictable. Should some accident truly occur, though Daoqin and Jianshu are with him, I know they may not be useful. Therefore, I specially entreat Miss Ning Er—with your compassionate heart—to pull him up if needed.”

These were ordinary words of entrustment, yet they sounded rather heavy.

Jiang Xuening didn’t understand the deeper meaning: “What accident could occur?”

Lu Xian only hoped that the signs and traces of the past two years were merely his own unfounded worries. He couldn’t speak plainly to Jiang Xuening, so he only said: “I can only hope that Lu is overthinking this.”

Having finished speaking, he heard the driver outside call: “The city gate has arrived.”

He was instantly startled, nearly jumping up and hitting the carriage roof. He stamped his foot in regret: “Disaster, disaster!”

Jiang Xuening was utterly bewildered: “What disaster?”

Lu Xian without another word lifted the curtain and tried to scramble outside.

However, the carriage had already stopped.

The Jinling city gate stood before them.

Xie Wei’s carriage waited quietly beneath the city wall.

He stood beside the carriage in a pale blue-green Daoist robe, watching Lu Xian emerge from Jiang Xuening’s carriage. His pupils contracted slightly. He glanced at Jiang Xuening inside the carriage, and his originally expressionless face pulled into a smile. He said mildly to Lu Xian: “You seem quite free?”

Lu Xian’s hair practically stood on end!

As the man descended from the carriage, almost by conditioned reflex, he immediately said: “Miss Ning Er invited me into the carriage!”

Jiang Xuening: “…”

Wait—though it was true that I invited you into the carriage, why does this matter?

She hadn’t yet reacted. She was just about to say “that’s right” when she turned her head and met Xie Wei’s eyes directly.

Somehow, a shiver ran through her entire body.

In that moment, her instinct for danger made her subconsciously deny it and shift the blame: “No, it was Boss Lu who said he had something to discuss with me!”

Lu Xian: ????

He could hardly believe what he was hearing!

He instantly turned to glare furiously at Jiang Xuening—

How could she just shift the blame like that? This could damn well result in someone dying, for heaven’s sake!

Yet Xie Wei’s gaze at this moment had already drifted lightly back to settle on him: “Lu Xian?”

Lu Xian: “…”

It’s not like you’re the girl’s anyone, yet here you are being a whole vinegar vat. I’m begging you, stop calling my name. If you call it one more time, this grandfather of yours will die right here on the spot for you to see!