That night, after being completely soaked, He Yan went back and took another bath in her room, only finishing after changing into dry clothes. Xiao Jue’s cloak had been wet by her, so He Yan went to find some soap from Shen Muxue to wash it clean. She hung it on a rope tied between tree branches outside, planning to return it to him once it dried.

Though it was troublesome, the kindness of the Liangzhou Guard’s instructors wasn’t entirely wasted. When she woke up the next day, He Yan felt refreshed throughout her body, warm and comfortable from early morning.

The hot springs’ healing properties weren’t just empty talk after all.

She quickly got up to wash and prepare, hurrying to make the morning run. During mealtime, she saw the Vanguard Unit training information at the drill grounds.

Lei Hou stood at the very front. The Vanguard Unit’s attire already distinguished them from ordinary recruits. Regular recruits only had two sets of training clothes, one red and one black – single layer in spring and summer, with thin cotton padding sewn in for autumn and winter. The training clothes had no decorations besides a belt, and weren’t well-fitted – those too large had rolled-up sleeves, while someone of Hong Shan’s build had his clothes stretched tight, looking like they might split at any moment.

The Vanguard Unit wore dark cyan riding uniforms made of much finer fabric that fit them perfectly. These thousand men were selected as the elite of the Liangzhou Guard, each carrying themselves with dignity, commanding respect from all who saw them.

Lei Hou, already naturally tall and striking, wore the riding uniform as if it were tailored specifically for him. The instructors had mentioned yesterday that his performance in the Vanguard Unit was exceptional, which was probably why they had him stand at the front of the formation, cutting an impressive and eye-catching figure.

He Yan was lost in thought watching this when Hong Shan suddenly appeared behind her. Seeing her expression, he patted her shoulder and asked, “What’s wrong, feeling uncomfortable?”

“No,” He Yan replied, “I just think the Vanguard Unit’s uniforms look much better than ours.”

“It’s not just the uniforms,” Xiao Mai chimed in, “I heard they eat better than us too – they get two extra steamed buns daily, plus meat porridge.”

“That’s enough, say less,” Hong Shan cut off Xiao Mai’s endless chatter. “Can’t you see your Brother He Yan is already troubled?”

He Yan said, “I’m not jealous of him.”

“Exactly,” Xiao Mai agreed, worried about He Yan’s feelings, “He’s Brother He Yan’s defeated opponent, what’s so great about him?”

He Yan smiled and was about to speak when Lei Hou seemed to notice their gazes. He turned to look, saw He Yan, paused momentarily, then quickly looked away and focused on training.

“This kid’s quite arrogant?” Hong Shan remarked, “Getting ahead of himself.”

He Yan remained silent, continuing to watch Lei Hou train for a while until Liang Ping urged them to hurry over. Only then did she stop.

As the instructors had said, Lei Hou’s formations were indeed excellent – agile and nimble, truly worthy of being a Vanguard Unit member. However, He Yan still remembered sparring with Lei Hou days ago on White Moon Mountain during the flag competition. The situation had been urgent then, and she had felt something unusual but couldn’t think it through carefully, later dismissing it from her mind. Seeing Lei Hou today brought back memories of that match.

But she still couldn’t pinpoint what had felt off.

What exactly had been unusual?

With Liang Ping urging them forcefully, He Yan went to get a spear from the weapons rack, thinking it didn’t matter – they were all in Liangzhou Guard anyway, and if needed, she could find another opportunity to spar with Lei Hou in a few days.

However, before He Yan could cross paths with Lei Hou again, news came that Xiao Jue was leaving.

Liangzhou Guard had received urgent reports that civilians outside Zhangtai City, a thousand li from Liangzhou, were being frequently harassed by the Wutuo people. Whenever the Wutuo arrived, they would rob money and grain, and assault men and women. The Zhangtai County Deputy Magistrate could no longer bear it and sought help from Xiao Jue, requesting him to lead troops to drive away these Wutuo people.

The Wutuo nation had submitted to Great Wei as vassals during the previous emperor’s reign, paying annual tribute. However, since the current emperor’s ascension, the Wutuo people have grown restless. After the Southern Man and Western Qiang rebellions were quelled, the Wutuo people stayed quiet for a while. But for some unknown reason, they had recently become more aggressive, daring to directly harass border civilians.

The emperor was lenient by nature and turned a blind eye to the Wutuo people’s actions. Additionally, with Minister Xu’s peace faction in court, other generals dared not touch this hot potato. Presumably, for this reason, the Zhangtai County Deputy Magistrate sought help from Xiao Jue of Liangzhou.

“Commander, when do we depart?” The instructors stood in Xiao Jue’s room while He Yan sat at Cheng Lisu’s usual writing spot. The middle door wasn’t closed, and they didn’t avoid discussing this matter in front of He Yan. But there was nothing to hide – the round trip to Zhangtai would take a month, and people would notice Xiao Jue’s absence anyway.

“Tomorrow.”

“So soon?” Liang Ping was surprised, “But we haven’t had time to inform the Vanguard Unit…”

“No need,” Xiao Jue said, “I don’t plan to take them.”

The instructors exchanged glances, but He Yan wasn’t surprised. Though Liangzhou Guard’s recruits had trained for over half a year, they had never seen actual combat. The long journey to Zhangtai followed by battles with the Wutuo people wasn’t ideal. It would be too taxing, and besides, the Wutuo people were cunning and fierce – the recruits might not be their match. All things considered, Xiao Jue’s Southern Garrison troops were most suitable.

When Xiao Jue brought the recruits to Liangzhou, his Southern Garrison troops must have been stationed elsewhere. With military authority in his hands, he could rightfully lead troops there, and if they achieved victory, the emperor might be pleased and reward him – which meant she could benefit as well.

Thinking of this, she nodded secretly, feeling that Xiao Jue’s decision was indeed very good.

After instructing the teachers about matters to attend to in the coming days, everyone finally left late at night. Xiao Jue stood up from his desk and walked to the middle door, reaching out to lock it, when he was suddenly blocked from behind as He Yan’s head poked through from behind the door.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

He Yan wouldn’t let him close the door, tilting her head to look at him, “Commander, you’re leaving tomorrow?”

Xiao Jue ignored her, trying to close the door, but with He Yan’s body wedged halfway in, he couldn’t close it. He finally gave up with a wave of his hand and walked into the room. He Yan easily stepped over the threshold, following behind him eagerly: “Commander, have you considered taking me with you to Zhangtai?”

“You?” Xiao Jue sneered, “What would I take you for, worried there aren’t enough people to slow us down?”

In his eyes, probably everyone besides himself was a burden.

“That’s underestimating me too much. I can help you deal with the Wutuo people.”

“Enough,” he looked her up and down, raising an eyebrow, “You got injured by a single guard, yet you talk about fighting the Wutuo people? Lady He, are you dreaming?”

“That was a special circumstance, and Ding Yi wasn’t an ordinary person.” He Yan defended herself but knew Xiao Jue had a point. Her wounds hadn’t fully healed, and these days she had to train carefully, afraid of aggravating the injuries and leaving lasting effects. If she went to Zhangtai and entered the battle, she might just cause trouble. And her expertise in troop deployment couldn’t be utilized – one commander was enough for a unit.

“Alright,” He Yan said with some regret, then suddenly thought of something and looked at Xiao Jue: “Commander, from here to Zhangtai, it’s a month round trip, plus time-fighting the Wutuo people – by the time you return, it will be deep winter. My wounds will be mostly healed by then, so what should I do these days? Even if I do triple daily training, with you not here to verify, you won’t deny it, will you?”

“Or perhaps,” she stared at Xiao Jue suspiciously, “you’re using the Zhangtai battle as an excuse to slip away? Are you not planning to return to the Liangzhou Guard? Abandoning me here alone?”

Xiao Jue stopped organizing the books on his desk, turned around, and startled He Yan, who was looking up at him.

His gaze fell on He Yan’s face as he bent down and said, “First, I’m not as idle as you. Second, you’re not my fiancée, so there’s no talk of abandoning you here alone. Third, isn’t my absence exactly what you want?”

“What do you mean exactly what I want?” He Yan said, “Don’t wrongly accuse me.”

He stared at He Yan with an ambiguous smile, his black eyes deep and unfathomable, only asking, “Oh? Then why are you asking so many questions? When I’ll return, if I’ll return – why does it matter?”

“Of course, it matters!” He Yan blurted out, “I’ll miss you!”

How could she not miss him? Only by performing exceptionally well in front of Xiao Jue and gaining his favor and trust could she approach He Rufei more quickly and openly, in a somewhat equal position. Such a living Buddha, such a precious treasure – how could she not miss him?

Seemingly surprised by her words for a moment, Xiao Jue turned his head away and sneered, “You really can say anything.”

“Don’t keep calling me a liar. Apart from my identity, I’ve never lied to the Commander. What I just said was sincere – when we’re temporarily separated, won’t the Commander miss me?”

Xiao Jue: “Not at all.”

He Yan: “…We’ve been through life and death together, you don’t need to be so heartless.”

Xiao Jue asked, “Are you finished? If you’re done, please return to your room. I need to lock the door.” He gripped He Yan’s shoulders and pushed her toward the middle door.

“Commander, sometimes I wonder if our identities are reversed. The way you guard against me, it’s as if you’re the woman and I might sully your virtue.”

“You talk too much.”

He Yan’s legs were already pushed into her room, and knowing he truly didn’t want her to stay, she quickly pulled out some miscellaneous items from her bosom and stuffed them into Xiao Jue’s hand while her upper body could still move.

With a “bang,” the door was closed.

He Yan spoke through the door: “Although you’re so heartless, Commander, I’m still a person who values honor. There’s nothing special I can give you for your journey to Zhangtai, but take these to eat along the way. I’ll wait here at the garrison for your good news.”

With that, she didn’t wait for a response from the other side, got onto her bed, blew out the lamp, and went to sleep.

On the other side of the door, Xiao Jue looked down at his palm.

It was a handful of persimmon frost candy, wrapped only in a thin layer of rice paper. Just looking at it made one think of its sweetness.

Like Cheng Lisu, Song Taotao had been regularly sending small gifts since arriving at Liangzhou Guard. She loved sweets herself and had asked Chi Wu to buy many from the city, sharing quite a few with He Yan.

He Yan thought that since Xiao Jue had carried that sachet containing osmanthus candy with him in his youth, his love for sweets must be true. He had refused the candied haws she bought him last time, probably because they were casually purchased from a street vendor – the Second Young Master Xiao wouldn’t eat such roadside snacks. But these persimmon frost candies were made by the chef at a proper restaurant at Song Taotao’s request through Chi Wu – surely these would meet Xiao Jue’s standards.

He couldn’t possibly refuse these too – that would be too picky.

Hopefully, he understood the principle of returning kindness for kindness!

…

When He Yan woke the next day and went to the training ground for daily practice, around noon during lunch, Cheng Lisu came running.

To avoid seeing Song Taotao, he moved to the communal dormitory where He Yan used to live. Everyone thought he wouldn’t last long, but surprisingly he had persisted until now. However, compared to his previous quarters, it was much more modest, making it difficult to maintain his image as a refined young gentleman. His face looked thinner, and he had even forgotten to match his hair ribbon with his clothes.

He ran up to He Yan breathlessly. He Yan was drinking wild vegetable soup and almost got knocked over by Cheng Lisu. She asked, “What’s the rush?”

“My uncle,” Cheng Lisu said, “Big Brother, my uncle has left!”

“I know.”

“You knew?” Cheng Lisu was stunned, then spoke angrily, “Then why didn’t you tell me? If Instructor Shen hadn’t told me today, I wouldn’t have known he had already left!”

“He’s already gone?” He Yan was also somewhat surprised. She hadn’t paid attention to Xiao Jue’s quarters this morning, thinking he would leave later. She hadn’t expected him to depart so early. He probably didn’t want to disturb others.

“Why didn’t he take Song Taotao with him when he left?” Cheng Lisu began complaining, “Who is she staying at Liangzhou Guard to bother?”

He Yan was speechless. Logically, a charming and lovable young lady like Song Taotao would have young men falling over themselves to please her, yet Cheng Lisu avoided her like the plague – what kind of taste did this boy have?

She asked, “What did Song Taotao do to you? She seems well-behaved and sensible to me.”

“Big Brother, please spare me,” Cheng Lisu said with a bitter face. “When I first learned of this engagement, I wanted to secretly take a look at her, but who knew I’d run right into her? I don’t know how she guessed my identity, but she gave me quite a lecture at the door.”

“What did she lecture you about?”

“What else? About being neither scholarly nor martial, a useless young master with no future. That would have been fine – everyone in Shuojing knows I’m useless, and I wouldn’t have been so angry just about that. But then she said she could marry me, but only if I studied diligently at home, passed the imperial examinations, and entered an official career, striving for success. If scholarly pursuits proved too difficult, I could try the military path – basically, I had to be a hardworking person.”

“How can there be such a cruel woman in this world?” Cheng Lisu was full of resentment recalling this. “The girl I love must be like me, uninvolved in worldly affairs, free-spirited, sharing wine and joy – that’s what makes us compatible. Being with her would be no different from being in prison! So, Big Brother, please stop speaking well of her. I’m truly terrified and don’t want to live that kind of life!”

At this point, even if He Yan wanted to persuade him, she didn’t know what to say. Sometimes in relationships, love at first sight is one thing, but getting along long-term is another. You hope for someone determined and hardworking, while they yearn for an unfettered life. When two fundamentally different people are forced together, even if it’s not apparent at first, time will reveal the truth.

The principle that took her an entire previous life to understand, these two young people saw through clearly.

“If you truly don’t like her, just find a way to break off the engagement. No need to be so critical of a young lady – you could at least be friends,” He Yan finally said after some thought.

“Forget it,” Cheng Lisu waved his hand, showing no desire to discuss further, “We really can’t be friends – our views are too different.”

He Yan changed the subject, asking Cheng Lisu if he wanted to move into Xiao Jue’s room now that he had left. Surprisingly, Cheng Lisu refused this too, saying he wanted to stay as far from Song Taotao as possible.

Like avoiding the plague.

When daily training ended that day, He Yan returned to her room. After washing up, she stared blankly at the locked middle door.

Although Xiao Jue rarely spoke with her normally, she always knew he was just on the other side of the door. Now that he was gone, the spacious room felt truly empty with just her there. It felt very lonely. She suddenly missed the times when she lived in the communal dormitory with Xiao Mai and others – at least then, she could hear people chatting and wouldn’t feel so bored.

Too much quiet made it hard to sleep, and being unable to sleep led to wandering thoughts. He Yan sat up in bed again, thought for a moment, then got up to put on her shoes and walked to the middle door, pulling out a silver wire from her sleeve.

This silver wire was from Cheng Lisu’s hairpin, which was shaped like a golden carp – the wire was the carp’s whiskers, curled up quite charmingly. When He Yan first saw it, she had touched it too forcefully and pulled the whiskers off. Cheng Lisu said it was fine to throw them away, but He Yan felt somewhat regretful, thinking they might be worth something to trade for tea, so she kept them.

Now, she took the curled silver wire, straightened it out, and inserted it through the door crack, pressing her ear against the middle door to listen carefully.

This skill was taught to her by a craftsman in the military camp years ago. He was a locksmith who was quite famous in his hometown for opening locked boxes from wealthy families’ ancestors or those accidentally dug up. Later, when the city was conscripting able-bodied men, the locksmith hid his grandchildren and came himself.

He Yan remembered the locksmith was quite old, with a missing front tooth that made his smile somewhat comical. He took a liking to He Yan because she was around his grandchild’s age. He had taught He Yan a few lock-picking tricks.

The locksmith had died in the battle at Mo County, but He Yan still remembered his lock-picking skills. The locksmith could open the sophisticated “Scholar” pattern locks used by officials and nobles, and the “Fortune” pattern locks used in weddings and celebrations, but he only taught He Yan how to open the common “Single” pattern locks used by ordinary people. Perhaps he had hoped that if he could return home one day to resume his old trade, he could still make a living with his skills. He didn’t want to teach everything to his apprentice and starve himself, but in the end, that hope never materialized.

He Yan tried the lock with some hope, and fortunately, the middle door between Xiao Jue and Cheng Lisu’s rooms happened to use a “Single” pattern lock.

After a moment, there was a “click” sound as the lock seemed to open on the other side. He Yan pushed gently, and the door opened.

Moonlight fell on the desk by the window, which wasn’t closed, making the tree shadows outside sway slightly, looking like water plants in a pond when cast on the ground. He Yan crept in quietly, then stood still, suddenly unsure why she was doing such a thing, feeling momentarily regretful.

If someone were hiding in the darkness now, they would probably think she was a thief. But she wasn’t here to steal anything, and it wasn’t her first time in Xiao Jue’s room. She had opened the middle door simply because she couldn’t sleep and was bored.

But since she was already here, it would be a shame to leave now.

He Yan looked around. The drinking sword that Xiao Jue usually hung on the wall was gone, but there were still two or three books scattered on the table. He Yan went over to look – they were all military texts. He hadn’t taken his zither either; it was hidden to one side, gleaming like a treasure in the moonlight.

Xiao Jue’s room wasn’t particularly luxurious; compared to Cheng Lisu’s elaborate quarters, it seemed excessively simple, to the point of feeling somewhat desolate. But He Yan remembered that the former Second Young Master Xiao had been quite particular at Xianchang Academy. His private room had been even more luxurious than the teacher’s quarters, with carpets so warm that one’s feet never felt cold in winter.

He seemed somewhat sensitive to cold; in winter, he always wore brocade robes and fox fur. But now this room was permeated with coldness, lacking the warmth of the past.

What exactly had he experienced over these years to become today’s Right Army Commander?

Lost in thought, He Yan had unconsciously walked to the desk, her fingers touching something. She looked down and saw several colorful small pieces scattered next to the brush holder. Picking them up to examine in the moonlight, she realized they were the persimmon frost candies she had stuffed into Xiao Jue’s hand yesterday.

The candies had been left out for a long time and weren’t as soft as before; their sweet fragrance seemed to have faded considerably. He Yan counted them – not one was missing. He hadn’t touched them, just left them here? Neither tasting one or two nor taking them to Zhangtai?

Why was that?

Whether he had previously thought the candied haws too crude, or if it was Second Young Master Xiao’s proud self-esteem at work, if he didn’t want them, so be it. Now these candies were made by the confectioner at a proper restaurant in the city – while not exactly a delicacy, they certainly weren’t crude. After she had stuffed them into Xiao Jue’s hand last night and closed the door, no one had seen whether Xiao Jue had taken them or how he had reacted. But if he truly liked sweets, he certainly wouldn’t have left them thrown here.

She could almost see him carelessly tossing the candies onto the desk, not even deigning to glance at them.

Was he afraid she had poisoned them? Or had Xiao Jue’s tastes changed over the years?

This question had no answer. As He Yan pondered, suddenly she felt something brush against her face, bringing a slight coolness and moisture. It was fuzzy – she looked up and saw salt-like particles drifting down outside, carried by the wind to the desk.

In the deep night, snow falls heavily, and the sound of breaking bamboo is occasionally heard.

She took two steps forward and through the window could see White Moon Mountain standing majestically in the distance. The moonlight was cool and distant, falling on the wilderness, dancing with the snow before her eyes.

“It’s snowing,” she thought silently.

So the winter snow in Liangzhou Guard came this early.