Two days later, Liu Buwang was laid to rest.

Following Jiyang’s customs, after death, the deceased was placed in a coffin aboard a wooden boat for water burial. The wooden boat, known as the “Soul-Carrying Vessel,” reflected Jiyang’s proximity to water. The people of Jiyang believed that the Water Goddess would use these vessels to carry souls to the other shore.

He Yan went to bid Liu Buwang a final farewell.

Liu Buwang lay peacefully in his wooden coffin, his expression serene. Whatever his final thoughts might have been, a slight smile graced his lips. He Yan placed a handful of flowers on the wooden boat.

Her master-disciple relationship with Liu Buwang had been remarkably brief. It was Liu Buwang who had pulled her from among the dead, teaching her the arts of blade, arrow, bow, and horsemanship. His expertise in the art of Qimen Dunjia, combined with the military treatises He Yan had studied, had transformed her life forever.

Without Liu Buwang’s outstretched hand that year, she would likely have perished in the desert of Mo County. Having lived another life and encountering Liu Buwang again seemed like heaven’s blessing, but this fate proved as fleeting as evening primrose, vanishing all too quickly.

He Yan regretted not having more conversations with Liu Buwang, leaving many things unsaid. She never got to ask about what had truly happened between him and Mu Honjin, nor about the places he had traveled over the years. She never had the chance to share her troubles with him, those uncertainties that weighed on her mind. Throughout her life, her connections with elders had been tenuous. Her relationships with parents and relatives were particularly sparse, and now Liu Buwang, who had been both master and father figure, had also departed.

Life’s regrets often outnumber its perfect moments.

“Your Highness,” He Yan heard Cui Yuezhi speak behind her. She turned to see Mu Honjin approaching.

Mu Honjin had forsaken her red robes for black attire. Her long hair was braided and coiled atop her head, crowned with a golden headpiece. She remained as beautiful and powerful as ever, though a hint of bewilderment in her expression made her appear somewhat like a lost child, revealing an unexpected vulnerability.

He Yan stepped aside as Mu Honjin approached the wooden boat.

The man in the boat would be buried with only two items: a sword and a zither. He had descended the mountain with just these possessions, and now he would leave this world equally unburdened by material things. Though the young man in white had aged, he seemed to have retained his youthful spirit until the end.

Mu Honjin stared intently at the scene before her.

When Xiao Jue had told her of Liu Buwang’s passing, she had first felt disbelief, then found it laughable, before being overwhelmed by a profound sense of confusion that made it difficult to accept the reality of what had happened.

But what had happened had happened. Many things in life proceed regardless of human will. She was no longer the naive young girl who could bury her head in a pillow and convince herself not to believe something she didn’t want to accept.

So she had come.

Liu Buwang had died protecting Jiyang City, setting up a formation before the riverbank at Hulou Mouth, facing hundreds or even thousands alone, without telling anyone.

He had remained true to his nature, keeping everything to himself until the end.

This was the only man she had ever loved. Even though Liu Buwang’s heart had belonged to another, and they had been estranged for many years, her attachment remained. His death still caused her grief.

“Your Highness,” He Yan stepped forward after some consideration, opening her palm. “Do you recognize this?”

Mu Honjin slowly turned her head to see a silver bracelet in He Yan’s hand. The bracelet had been polished smooth, with faint traces of small daisies engraved around its edge. In an instant, memories flooded her mind, accompanied by the echo of an elderly woman’s kindly voice.

“This is called the Heart’s Delight Bracelet. Buy one for your beloved, and you’ll never part for life.”

“Master Liu, did you hear that? Quick, buy one for me!”

“She’s not my beloved.”

Mu Honjin stared at the bracelet before her, as if looking at a long-delayed gift. Her throat tightened as she asked hoarsely, “How did you come to have this?”

“Master clutched this bracelet tightly before he died. I thought it must have been important to him,” He Yan looked at Mu Honjin. “Was this Your Highness’s bracelet?”

Mu Honjin took the bracelet from He Yan’s hand and murmured, “I don’t know.”

How could she know? Those playful words from years ago had sunk deep into her memories, too painful to even recall. She had confronted Liu Buwang about his lack of feelings for her, yet now this bracelet told her that she had held a place in Liu Buwang’s heart.

How dare she believe it?

How could she possibly believe it?

He Yan felt a wave of helpless sorrow. Liu Buwang was gone, and no one would ever know the true story of what happened back then, but she still wanted to speak on his behalf.

“Your Highness, I feel that there might have been many misunderstandings between you and Master regarding what happened back then,” He Yan said. “But he’s no longer with us. If Your Highness recognizes this bracelet, please keep it. If you find it difficult… you can place it back in the wooden coffin.”

“But I think,” He Yan said softly, “if Master were still here, he would want you to keep it.”

An ungiven gift, a delayed explanation, an honest confession – these were probably his greatest regrets in life.

But what use were regrets now? When a person dies, all related grievances, whether one is willing or not, whether one accepts it or not, dissipate like smoke.

The story ended here.

Mu Honjin looked at the silver bracelet in her palm, and after a moment, slowly closed her fingers around it, saying quietly, “I understand.”

He Yan noticed from her gesture that she intended to keep the bracelet, and felt slightly relieved. There was little she could do for Liu Buwang now; this was the only thing left.

The wooden coffin was sealed, and the boat was surrounded by wildflowers of various colors. Liu Buwang had descended the mountain in spring, and now he would return to spring. The clear river waters pushed the small boat forward, carrying it farther and farther away until it disappeared among the emerald waves between the mountains.

“What lies on the other shore?” He Yan murmured.

But who could know? Just as when Liu Buwang had met Mu Honjin after descending the mountain that year, he had scoffed at the flower seller’s words about “forever and ever.”

Back then, a lifetime had seemed endless, but it turned out that after meeting a few people, hearing a few songs, and experiencing a few encounters and partings, a lifetime had already passed.

…

After Liu Buwang’s funeral, He Yan’s group prepared to return to the Liangzhou Guard.

Cui Yuezhi came to see them off, standing at the entrance of the Cui residence, directing people to continuously load items into the carriage.

“These are all Jiyang specialties, take more back with you. You can’t find these things in Liangzhou.”

Lin Shuanghe propped his head with his fan and said, “Is it necessary to take these roasted rabbits? They’re so greasy, and it’s not convenient in the carriage.”

“Take them,” Cui Yuezhi insisted, “You can eat them when you’re hungry on the road. Zhong Fu,” he called the steward, “Are the apricots ready?”

“Yes,” Zhong Fu brought over a cloth bag of red apricots, “They’re all washed clean. The Inspector and the young lady can eat a couple when they’re thirsty on the road – they’re both thirst-quenching and delicious.”

He Yan: “…”

One might think they were going on a picnic.

Such hospitality was truly hard to decline.

“It’s enough, Master Cui,” He Yan smiled, “If you add any more items, the Inspector and I won’t have anywhere to sit.”

Cui Yuezhi looked at the fully packed carriage and finally relented, smiling, “Alright then, that’s it. You stayed at my Cui residence for too short a time. If you had stayed longer, I would have shown you around the entire Jiyang City.” At this point, he solemnly bowed deeply to Xiao Jue and He Yan, “The crisis in Jiyang City was resolved thanks to Inspector Xiao, Miss He, and Master Liu. This great kindness, I, Cui, will never forget, and the people of Jiyang will remember your benevolence. If there’s ever anything in this life where you need my help, or the help of Jiyang City, I and the people of Jiyang will not hesitate to go through fire and water for you.”

“Miss He, you must come to play in Jiyang City again if you have the chance,” said Cui Yuezhi’s Fourth Concubine with a smile, “Next time, stay longer, and we’ll cook delicious food for you.”

The Second Concubine looked at Xiao Jue and said with a bright smile, “The same goes for Inspector Xiao.”

Concubine Wei glared at both of them, then stepped forward to take He Yan’s hand, instructing, “Be careful on the road.”

He Yan nodded with a smile. Just then, someone came to report: “Master of Middle Cavalry, Mu Yi has brought people to bid farewell to Miss He.”

Xiao Jue raised an eyebrow, and He Yan asked, “To bid me farewell?”

The people Mu Yi brought were the fifty who had planned to set fire to the Wutuo warships with He Yan. Among these fifty, about twenty had perished in the war, but at least half had survived. Now, upon hearing that He Yan was leaving, the remaining twenty-some people came with Mu Yi to express their gratitude.

“Thanks to Miss He,” a young man scratched his head, “otherwise we might not be alive now. Before Miss He leaves, we brothers wanted to come thank you properly.”

Mu Yi took out a wooden frame from his chest and handed it to He Yan: “This is a gift from everyone for Miss He.”

He Yan took it and looked – it was a wooden carving made from a single piece of wood, depicting a young woman in armor standing at the bow of a ship amidst a sea of flames. The woman held a whip, her long hair tied high behind her head, appearing valiant and striking.

He Yan looked at it for a while, then hesitantly asked, “Is this… me?”

“Yes,” another person said, “We all pooled some silver together and found the best craftsman in Jiyang City to carve it. But still, it doesn’t capture Miss He’s spirit – when Miss He used the whip to sink the Wutuo warships, it was truly exciting, much more impressive than what’s carved here!”

“Indeed, even this carving can’t fully capture Miss He’s bearing, not to mention Miss He’s actual beauty!”

“That’s right, Miss He’s beauty is beyond what even immortals could portray.”

In the end, there was nothing but sincere praise, making He Yan blush. She could certainly feel the enthusiasm of the men of Jiyang now.

Cui Yuezhi watched the scene with a smile.

Mu Yi looked at He Yan and asked, “Must Miss He return to Liangzhou?”

He Yan paused briefly, then nodded, “I have important matters to attend to.”

“I see.” A flash of regret crossed the young man’s eyes, but moments later, he looked directly into He Yan’s eyes and asked earnestly, “Will you return to Jiyang City in the future?”

Mu Yi was naturally handsome and masculine; his sincere yet slightly bashful gaze was truly difficult to resist. Even though He Yan was typically slow to notice such things, faced with such a look, she understood its meaning. She felt both embarrassed and touched, as anyone would be moved by such genuine affection.

Being liked and admired was indeed an honor.

“I like Jiyang City,” she smiled at Mu Yi. “If I have the chance in the future, I’ll return.”

Mu Yi froze for a moment, scratched his head, and smiled foolishly.

“My, my,” Lin Shuanghe waved his fan and leaned close to Xiao Jue’s ear, saying, “I told you, with my little sister He’s beauty and temperament, she was bound to attract admirers. Look at all these eager eyes, tsk tsk tsk, you’d better keep a close watch on her.”

Xiao Jue snorted dismissively, as if finding it absurd, “What poor taste.”

“On the contrary, it’s excellent taste,” Lin Shuanghe closed his fan. “You should know that gold will always shine.”

As they were talking, another person emerged from the residence – a slender, refined man in a cyan-colored robe. It was Chu Zhao. Beside him, Ying Xiang carried a bundle.

“Fourth Young Master Chu?” Cui Yuezhi was startled.

Cui Yuezhi had learned about the relationship between Chu Zhao and Xiao Jue from Mu Honjin. The two men were at odds, with different standings, and Mu Honjin had arranged them together for the sake of balance. Indeed, their victory over the Wutuo people owed much to the military maps and information Chu Zhao had provided. However, Cui Yuezhi was a martial artist who felt a natural kinship with Xiao Jue, and having fought alongside him, his loyalties had already shifted toward Xiao Jue. Thus, his manner toward Chu Zhao remained somewhat formal and distant.

“Where is Fourth Young Master Chu headed?” Cui Yuezhi asked.

“I came to Jiyang for the Wutuo matter. Now that it’s resolved, it’s time to bid farewell to everyone,” he smiled slightly. “I didn’t inform Master Cui earlier because I didn’t want to trouble you, knowing you must be busy with the cleanup around the Grand Canal these past few days.”

“He makes himself sound so considerate while making us seem pompous,” Lin Shuanghe whispered to Xiao Jue, “He’s too smooth with his words.”

Cui Yuezhi smiled, “Fourth Young Master Chu is too polite. You should have mentioned it earlier. No matter how busy I am, I would have made time to see you. However,” Cui Yuezhi looked at Xiao Jue, “if Fourth Young Master Chu is departing today, couldn’t you travel with Inspector Xiao? The journey wouldn’t be so lonely then.”

Hearing this, Xiao Jue’s expression remained cold, not even bothering to feign the slightest pleasantry.

He Yan thought to herself that Cui Yuezhi’s courtesy seemed rather forced. Chu Zhao had probably chosen this day deliberately to travel together.

However, what she hadn’t expected was Chu Zhao’s smiling response: “Indeed, as our destination is also Liangzhou Guard.”

Liangzhou Guard?

He Yan was surprised: “Fourth Young Master Chu… why would you go to Liangzhou Guard?”

Xiao Jue raised his eyes, his gaze falling on him.

“I’ve already written to Minister Xu about the military matters here in Jiyang,” Chu Zhao smiled. “Until His Majesty’s edict arrives, I will stay in Liangzhou Guard. After all, I was present throughout the Jiyang incident.”

He didn’t continue, but everyone understood his meaning.

Cui Yuezhi inwardly clicked his tongue – had the court’s internal struggles become this intense? No wonder the Wutuo people had found an opportunity to strike.

Xiao Jue first sneered, then said with an ambiguous smile: “Fourth Young Master Chu wishes to stay in Liangzhou Guard? That’s fine.”

“However, in Liangzhou Guard, I make the decisions.”

Chu Zhao responded with a contained smile.

Xiao Jue didn’t acknowledge Chu Zhao further and turned to board the carriage. He Yan’s gaze toward Chu Zhao had changed – this person… seemed to be deliberately provocative.

So deliberate that he didn’t even try to hide it.

She bowed to Chu Zhao and said, “Brother Chu, I’ll get in the carriage first.”

Without waiting for Chu Zhao’s response, He Yan quickly boarded the carriage. With Chu Zhao’s provocative behavior, Second Young Master Xiao would surely be displeased. At this crucial moment, she couldn’t risk pulling the tiger’s whiskers – if she angered Xiao Jue and he refused to let her join the Southern Army, this entire journey would have been for nothing.

Her hasty boarding caught Chu Zhao’s eye. He was momentarily stunned, then shook his head with a smile. After bidding farewell to Cui Yuezhi and the others one by one, he unhurriedly boarded his carriage with Ying Xiang.

The carriages headed toward the city gates.

Lin Shuanghe lifted the carriage curtain and glanced outside. Jiyang City, having just endured the Wutuo incident, wasn’t as lively as before. But the rivers, large and small, remained unchanged, with boats floating quietly. He thought that before long, it would return to its former bustling, vibrant state.

They had come here treating it as a mere excursion, but now that they were leaving, many feelings of sadness emerged. Lin Shuanghe looked on and sighed.

He Yan still tightly held the wooden carving that Mu Yi and his group had given her. As her fingers traced the image, the woman depicted in the carving seemed to capture something of the female general’s bearing from her previous life.

Seeing her gesture, Xiao Jue mocked: “Now you’re not afraid of others in Liangzhou Guard seeing it?”

Previously, she had been extremely troubled over a mere figurine, but now with such a large wooden carving, she treasured it like a precious gift, no longer mentioning concerns about her female identity being discovered. Women’s thoughts truly couldn’t be taken seriously.

“If worst comes to worst, I can say it’s for my fiancée. Isn’t that what you taught me, Inspector?” He Yan said. “So many people, such genuine sentiment – their kindness is hard to decline, truly hard to decline.”

Though her words were modest, her eyes betrayed satisfaction and pride. Xiao Jue found it amusing and leaned back slightly, a trace of laughter passing through his eyes as he said neutrally, “Quite popular, aren’t you?”

The carriage gradually moved away.

Mu Honjin stood on the riverbank, where layers of green mountains blocked any view of the soul-carrying vessel. The youth of the past had returned to the mountains and seas, while she had to continue here, sitting on that high, cold throne in the icy hall.

This was her responsibility.

“The young prince is already on his way back,” the maid beside her said softly. “Your Highness, shall we return to the residence?”

Mu Honjin nodded, taking a final look at the end of the long river before turning away, her wide-sleeved robe magnificent and imposing, a flash of silver at her wrist quickly disappearing.

From somewhere unknown, a traveler wearing a bamboo hat and carrying a walking stick walked along the riverbank, singing. The voice scattered over the river with the wind, gradually fading away:

“The returning one still yearns for home,

How shall I now comfort my solitude…

In the bitter cold, I think of your thin quilt,

Riding alone on a lean horse under the waning moon…

Though I know life must have its partings,

I fear only how swiftly the years slip away.

By the cold lamp, we recall the past,

When will I hear the whisper of night rain again…”