After Guyu (Grain Rain), it would soon be time for Lixia (Beginning of Summer).
In this season, Shuo Capital should have been experiencing endless rain. However, in Jiuchuan, the desert stretched endlessly, already showing signs of summer heat. The sun hung high and burned long, causing the soldiers’ lips to crack and peel.
The battle was exceptionally fierce.
In the month since their first victory, He Yan had led the Fuyu Army into several engagements with the Wuto people. After repeatedly suffering defeats at the hands of the Marquis of Wu’an, the Wuto gradually realized that the Marquis was not just an incompetent official who had lucked into their position. Her masterful battle formations, valor in combat, and even her refined swordsmanship reminded them of the legendary Flying Swan General of years past.
Indeed it was so.
After several encounters, He Yan had largely figured out the Wuto’s fighting style and began counterattacking. She was extremely patient, not rushing to attack the city, instead employing tactics of “defend when the enemy comes, pursue when they retreat; display forces by day, raid their camps by night.” The Wuto couldn’t withstand such frequent “harassment.” Over time, their morale dropped, and they became dejected and exhausted, clearly losing more with each encounter.
Today was the day to storm the city.
The woman in crimson armor rode her warhorse across the battlefield, amid thundering drums and banners, flashing blades and swords. The army formations followed her command like an agile dragon, carrying a murderous aura as they charged toward the enemy camp.
Her sword drove forward relentlessly.
As the armies clashed, the earth ran red for thousands of li.
Xiaomai was locked in combat with a Wuto warrior. Though young and strong, his skills weren’t equal to Shitou’s. He was fighting with all his might when he suddenly kicked at his opponent’s knee. The man stumbled, and Xiaomai seized the opportunity to slash his throat.
As his opponent fell, before he could show even a hint of joy, someone suddenly tackled him to the ground, rolling with him twice. Xiaomai’s heart tightened, and when he instinctively looked up, he saw Shitou embracing him, shielding his back. A black arrow had penetrated Shitou’s back, with only the fletching visible.
Shitou’s lips moved, managing only two words: “Be careful.”
Another arrow pierced his back.
The youth spat out a mouthful of blood. “…Run!”
“Big Brother—” Xiaomai cried out in anguish. Nearby, Wang Ba saw what happened and charged with his blade toward the two Wuto archers hiding in ambush, engaging them in fierce combat.
The usually cheerful and lively youth was now filled with terror, large tears streaming down his face as he knelt beside his brother, crying, “Big Brother, don’t scare me, Big Brother…”
Shitou struggled to look at his young brother before him. Two arrows had struck his chest, and his strength was rapidly fading. The battlefield was too chaotic—Xiaomai was in danger like this.
“Go… don’t stay here…” he struggled to speak, “dangerous…”
Then the light in his eyes extinguished.
Xiaomai let out an anguished howl, but this was a battlefield—no one paid attention to his grief.
Death was occurring everywhere, at any moment.
Huang Xiong’s armor had been hacked to pieces, and his face and body bore numerous wounds. He was already quite old—more than capable of handling ordinary bandits, but struggling against these fierce and cunning Wuto warriors.
The Wuto warrior fighting him had managed to slash his tiger’s mouth (the web between thumb and index finger), leaving it a bloody mess. When he gripped his sword, the pain was excruciating. His strength was gradually draining, and even his longtime companion, the golden blade, felt unusually heavy, as if difficult to wield.
His exhaustion was noticed by his opponent. The Wuto warrior laughed, “He’s done for, this big fellow is finished!”
Perhaps because of his imposing appearance and eye-catching golden blade, the Wuto had paid special attention to him. The warrior shouted, “That blade is mine now!”
Huang Xiong replied in a deep voice: “In your dreams.”
He gripped his large blade, clashing with his opponent’s sword. At that moment, he felt a sudden chill from behind—a bright long blade had pierced through his back and out his chest, causing him to stagger.
The Wuto warrior behind him burst into unrestrained laughter.
However, that laughter was only halfway through when the bear-like man let out a mighty roar, suddenly turning around. Ignoring his wounds, he raised his great blade and in an instant beheaded the Wuto warrior behind him. The gleeful laughter from the other direction also abruptly ceased as a flash of golden light took his life.
The armor on his body was completely pierced by the blade tip. He gripped the sword hilt and violently pulled it out. As he did so, he finally couldn’t support himself and collapsed.
His hand still tightly gripped that golden-backed great blade.
Over all these years, he had once lost his way because of this blade, but it was also this blade that had accompanied him across thousands of li, helping him exact revenge on his enemies. Now he was alone in the world, without attachments, and having this longtime companion with him in death was not so regrettable.
However…
The robust man gazed at the sky. The dark, smooth prayer beads on his chest seemed to show him visions of his mother praying in the temple hall for her wandering son’s early return, his sisters preparing steaming hot meals, his elder brother in the courtyard asking his young nephew about the day’s lessons…
So peaceful, so tranquil.
He closed his eyes contentedly, his expression showing a serenity never seen before.
The wanderer who had roamed for so long outside could finally return home.
…
The city had fallen.
Weapons were laid down, white bones exposed in the wild. The soldiers cheered for this hard-won victory, every survivor’s face showing a joyful smiles.
The woman at the lead was spirited, showing no sign of fatigue. She was always like this as if she would never show a moment of weakness. It was precisely because of her presence that the Fuyu Army’s morale grew stronger with each passing day.
The Wuto had fled the city in defeat, and with this, Jiuchuan was finally reclaimed by their Great Wei.
He Yan’s face still bore traces of blood she hadn’t had time to wipe away. Just as she was about to go count the battle’s gains, she saw Wang Ba walking toward her with a grave expression.
The smile at the corner of her lips immediately vanished.
“Come and see,” he said.
Throughout the days of the war, people died continuously. The men from the Liangzhou Guard finally realized that this time was different from every time before. War had made them grow quickly, made them taciturn, resolute, and calm. Wang Ba was no longer the person who would shout at every turn; in these days, he had become much more composed.
He Yan followed him forward.
The fallen soldiers could only be buried where they lay. The surviving soldiers were checking one by one if they carried any tokens, which, if found, would be taken back to Shuo Capital for their families. Every soldier here had mostly carried a letter with them before going into battle. If they unfortunately fell in battle, their comrades would take their last letters back to their families.
He Yan saw Shitou and Huang Xiong.
She had understood very early on that when people go to war, they cannot decide their own life or death. The moment they don armor, they are prepared to give their lives. Those who survive to the end must, unfortunately, watch their comrades fall one by one.
First, it was Hong Shan, and now it was Shitou and Huang Xiong.
Shitou had died from arrows; the arrows had been removed, and his chest garments were stained completely red. Huang Xiong had died by the sword, reportedly taking two Wuto warriors with him in his final moments. When they found him, he was still clutching his sword with an iron grip.
He Yan knelt before the two of them, carefully arranging their clothes that had been cut to pieces.
Xiaomai was crying nearby until his voice grew hoarse, his eyes red. He Yan still remembered when she first met Shitou and Xiaomai, the hunter brothers who had grown up in the mountains, telling her of their aspirations to join the army. Xiaomai had been lively and innocent, fond of food and play, while Shitou had been taciturn and steady, meticulous in everything.
War had changed all of that.
A young soldier asked, “Sir, Brother Huang’s blade…”
Such a fine blade would be coveted for use on the battlefield.
“He had no family; this blade was his family, accompanying him for so many years. Let it be buried with him,” He Yan looked at the man on the ground, that big brother who could never find his way, always getting lost in circles, and seeing the peaceful smile on his face, it seemed he had finally found his way home.
She stood up, her grief lasting only a moment, and said, “Tell them to come to my tent; we have military matters to discuss.”
Her steps were firm, and she didn’t look back again.
…
As if to celebrate the victory of reclaiming Jiuchuan, the moon emerged in the deep night.
In the tent, the woman made the final mark on the military map, rubbed her eyes, stood up, and walked out.
She climbed up the city wall and gazed into the distance. Outside the city stretched endless yellow sand, with beacon fires in the distance reflecting off the long plains. The desolate Gobi desert and the white city walls stood like a lonely boat in deep waters.
A crescent moon hung in the night sky, briefly illuminating the desolation.
She sat down on the ground, and her stomach made a soft sound. Only then did she realize that since the battle ended, she hadn’t eaten anything.
A dry biscuit was offered to her. He Yan started slightly as Jiang Jiao walked up from behind, sat beside her, and said, “Knew you probably hadn’t eaten, especially saved this for you.”
He Yan smiled slightly: “Thank you.”
She took a bite of the dry biscuit. The coarse grain filled her stomach, bringing genuine satisfaction.
Jiang Jiao handed her the water flask. She threw her head back and took a big drink, her manner unrestrained. Her face still bore unwashed mud and blood, looking particularly disheveled, but her eyes remained as bright as stars.
He suddenly felt somewhat moved.
In the Fuyu Army, everyone said He Yan was naturally valiant, commanded troops like a deity, and never knew fatigue. Even the men needed rest after this great battle. Yet after leaving the battlefield, she had counted the casualties, arranged commands for the subsequent pursuit, re-analyzed enemy intelligence, and until now, hadn’t changed her clothes or eaten. Only at this moment, sitting on the empty city wall, did she show a hint of her weariness.
He heard He Yan’s voice: “How is Xiaomai?”
“Not good. Wang Ba has been staying with him,” Jiang Jiao’s voice lowered.
Half of the brothers from the Liangzhou Guard were already gone. Who would be next, and who would make it to the end, alive to return to Shuo Capital? No one could say for certain.
He Yan took another drink of water, her voice still calm, “He needs to get through this quickly.”
The words seemed cruel, but Jiang Jiao understood in his heart—this was the battlefield, and the battlefield doesn’t give people time to grieve.
Though He Yan hadn’t shed tears, it didn’t mean she wasn’t grieving. She was, after all, a woman, staying here alone, watching those around her leave one by one—it must be powerless.
“Brother He,” Jiang Jiao asked, “Have you thought about the Commander?”
Silence answered him.
After a while, He Yan raised her head to look toward the distant city wall.
In the lonely desert, only that silver-white crescent moon hung quietly in the night sky.
“No,” she lifted the corner of her mouth slightly as if seeing another person through the crescent moon before her.
“I know he’s there.”
A raven’s cry came from the distance, the cold night wind made the torches flicker like moving stars. The young female general stood up, and patted the shoulder of the person beside her: “Go back early, there’s another hard battle to fight tomorrow.”
Then she turned and left.
…
Ji Commandery had been raining for days. The rain washed away the mud and blood on the ground. If not for the scattered weapons and corpses, one could hardly tell that a fierce battle had just taken place here.
In the tent, a man wearing hemp clothing looked at the commander sitting inside, his expression angry and shocked: “Yan Nanguang, are you throwing your life away!”
His last white robe had not escaped the fate of being cut into bandages. From now on, he wore the hemp clothing of common people as he moved through the Yan family army camp. Now, Young Master Lin no longer had his past graceful appearance. Out of twelve hours in a day, for ten of them, his face was dirty and his hands were stained with blood.
The fighting grew more intense by the day, the number of wounded increased, and there weren’t enough military doctors. Here, he was the most skilled, and the most reassuring presence.
But now, only Lin Shuanghe himself knew how uneasy his heart was.
Yan He ignored him, only frowning as he counted last night’s battle gains. Last night the Yan army had greatly defeated the Wuto people, killing ten thousand enemies and capturing over a thousand fine horses—cause for celebration.
“Yan Nanguang, did you hear what I said?” Lin Shuanghe asked urgently.
“I heard,” Yan He answered impatiently.
“Then do you know you’re in great danger now?” Lin Shuanghe lowered his voice, “You’ll lose your life!”
That day, Yan He had acted to save a father of two children from the Wuto people’s hands but was wounded by a Wuto ambush arrow. Though it hadn’t hit vital areas, only striking his arm, the enemy had been targeting him specifically, and the arrow was poisoned.
Lin Shuanghe couldn’t neutralize the poison.
On the battlefield, there were no herbs available to slowly develop an antidote.
The poison spread more each day, and without quickly finding an antidote, Yan He would die. But he continued fighting daily, and the poison traces at his wound spread faster and deeper, terrifying Lin Shuanghe. If Yan He could temporarily set aside the fighting, the poison would spread more slowly, perhaps lasting longer, but now, continuing like this… he might not even make it back to Shuo Capital.
“Have you developed an antidote yet?” Yan He frowned and asked.
Lin Shuanghe froze, then answered dejectedly: “No.”
“Since it’s death either way, why concern yourself so much?” Yan He said dismissively.
He appeared completely unconcerned as if speaking of someone else’s life. He didn’t even seem worried about it. Lin Shuanghe asked: “You really want to continue like this?”
“Lin Shuanghe, this is the battlefield.” Yan He’s voice was solemn, “Recently we’ve had continuous victories, greatly damaging Wuto morale. If we continue, we can quickly take back Ji Commandery. At times like these, we must strike while the iron is hot. If we don’t take advantage of peak morale for a decisive victory, such an opportunity will be hard to find later. On the battlefield, there’s no time to stop.”
Lin Shuanghe closed his eyes briefly.
He knew everything Yan He said was right, was true. But as a physician, he understood more clearly that continuing like this would turn even a slim chance of survival into none at all.
“You should know…” he began with difficulty, “if you continue like this, without stopping to rest, at most… three months.”
“Three months,” Yan He said: “Then we’ll finish this war within three months.”
Even now, all he cared about was the outcome of this war. Lin Shuanghe couldn’t help saying: “Even if you don’t care about yourself, don’t you think about Chenxiu? Yan Nanguang, your child is still waiting for you to return!”
Yan He’s fingers trembled slightly, though his expression remained normal. He said casually: “Since you know this, hurry and develop an antidote for me. Otherwise, what use is having you here? You’re supposed to be a miracle doctor—can you only treat women, not men?”
Normally, hearing such questioning of his medical skills, Lin Shuanghe would surely argue. But now, he only looked at Yan He, suddenly understanding in his heart that even if this man knew he had only one day to live, he would use that final day to be a good commander.
On the battlefield, he wasn’t Xia Chenxiu’s husband, nor Yan Muxia’s father—he was the leader of the Yan family army, a general of Great Wei, nothing more.
“I understand,” Lin Shuanghe gave him a deep look, “I will do my best.”
He turned and walked out. At the table, Yan He raised his eyes to watch Lin Shuanghe’s departing figure, then suddenly vomited a mass of black blood.
The poison not only drained his life but also caused him to suffer terrible pain. However, this was something he could not show in front of others. The Yan army needed a pillar of strength—before winning this battle, he could never fall.
Yan He casually grabbed a cloth nearby, wiped the blood from his lips, dispelled the painful expression, and returned his gaze to the military map before him.
Three months…
He had to achieve a swift victory.
…
In the academy, pink buds began emerging from the emerald lotus leaves in the pond. Dragonflies skimmed the water’s surface, their glass-like wings drawing faint ripples.
After the Beginning of Summer, the days grew longer, and the wind carried the warmth of sunlight.
In the afternoon academy, the sun was just right, and the young students sat dozing, the beautiful moment stretching especially long.
Someone ran in from outside, bringing excited joy, jumping onto a table in one breath, saying: “Good news, good news! Marquis of Wu’an, Lady He, led the Fuyu Army to reclaim Jiuchuan, greatly defeating the Wuto bandits—”
The previously dull afternoon was instantly awakened by this news.
“Really? They reclaimed Jiuchuan so quickly?”
“It’s true, everyone outside is talking about it! I just came back from outside.”
“That Marquis of Wu’an is truly formidable. Of the four great generals who set out separately, it was the woman-led Fuyu Army that first took the city.”
“What does being a woman matter? Wasn’t the previous Fuyu Army leader, General Flying Swan, also a woman? I see the Marquis of Wu’an as another heroine. Who knows, after returning to the capital, if the Emperor grants a high position, she might become General Wu’an!”
In a corner of the academy, a young man sitting there looked dazed, still somewhat disbelieving upon hearing this news.
He Yan had won? Already reclaimed Jiuchuan?
Just as he was thinking, a group of people suddenly surrounded him.
“He Yunsheng, your sister is amazing, achieving merit so quickly! I think your He family will only rise from here.”
“Hey, hey, Brother He, from today on, we’re good brothers. When you make it big in the future, don’t forget to help your little brother here.”
“Bah! All of you were gossiping behind Lady He’s back before, saying she only got her position through Commander Xiao’s influence and had no real ability. Now you’ve all been proven wrong! Lady He went to Jiuchuan leading troops independently, yet brought back victory reports before General Yan, Commander Xiao, and General Tiger Might. She has real ability.”
“Right, right, real ability. I was blind not to recognize greatness. Brother Yunsheng, Brother Yunsheng…”
He Yunsheng, surrounded by the crowd, wasn’t carried away by his classmates’ enthusiastic compliments. In his heart was only one thought—He Yan had won, and she was safe…
The young man turned his head slightly, unable to keep from smiling, thinking to himself that she had kept her promise this time.
…
In the Xiao mansion, the pomegranate tree had become the best shade spot in summer.
The yellow dog lay under the tree, lazily narrowing its eyes. Qingmei added water to its bowl, wiped the sweat from her brow, and was about to return inside when suddenly a shadow bounced in from outside, voice cheerful: “Sister Qingmei, Sister Qingmei!”
Qingmei was startled. Seeing Baiguo run over like a gust of wind, she hurried to steady her, “What is it? Why are you so happy?”
“I just went outside and heard people saying that Second Young Madam won a battle, and led the Fuyu Army to reclaim Jiuchuan! Sister Qingmei, Second Young Madam has achieved merit!”
Er Mao was also infected by Baiguo’s excitement, jumping up and circling her twice.
Bai Rongwei was helped over by her maid, her voice also unable to hide her joy: “Is it true?”
“It’s true,” Baiguo said happily: “They say Second Young Madam is so formidable. Though it was her first time leading troops independently, she won consecutive battles and reclaimed Jiuchuan so quickly. This servant heard people say that when the Second Young Madam returns, the Emperor will surely reward her greatly! Our mansion might produce another general!”
Bai Rongwei was amused by her words, chiding: “You always know what to say.” Then she shook her head and smiled: “Merit and rewards aren’t important. We’re all just happy that Ah He is safe and sound.”
Her belly was now gradually showing, but with war at the borders, Xiao Rubi was also very busy every day. When Bai Rongwei was alone, she couldn’t help worrying about both Xiao Jue and He Yan. If the two were together it would be better, able to look after each other, but they were in opposite directions. Xiao Jue was fine, often on the battlefield, and the South Prefecture troops were trained by Xiao Zhongwu originally. He Yan was different. Leading troops for the first time, not everyone in the Fuyu Army would necessarily accept her, and being a woman brought many inconveniences. Bai Rongwei had worried herself sick, but now she could finally breathe a small sigh of relief.
“I think He Uncle should be returning soon too,” Bai Rongwei smiled: “When he hears the news of Ah He’s victory, he’ll surely be very happy.”
Since He Yan and Xiao Jue left the capital, Bai Rongwei and Xiao Jing have been visiting He Sui’s home more frequently. First, the house Xiao Jue bought for them was originally close to the Xiao family, just a street away, making it convenient to come and go. Second, Bai Rongwei thought, if she as a sister-in-law worried so much, He Sui as a father must have his heart constantly suspended. He Yunsheng was just a seventeen or eighteen-year-old youth, not as considerate as a daughter, and Xiao Zhongwu and his wife had passed away early. Since He Sui was He Yan’s father, he was also their father. Thus, the couple often went to talk with He Sui, keeping him company, making this in-law relationship more harmonious than other families in Shuo Capital.
“The Young Master will be back soon too,” Baiguo chattered: “Madam, since this is a joyous occasion, this servant will go tell the kitchen to make some good dishes, to celebrate!”
“Alright,” Bai Rongwei smiled: “Qingmei, you also go to the He family, invite Uncle He and Yunsheng to come for dinner tonight.”
Hearing this, Qingmei showed a big smile, “Yes, this servant will go now.”
…
In the palace, in the Imperial Study, the Zhao Kang Emperor couldn’t help showing a gratified smile as he looked at the memorial before him.
Since ascending the throne, this was probably the most pleasing matter.
The palace servant, seeing the Emperor’s expression, quite perceptively said: “The Empress Dowager came by this morning when Your Majesty was busy with state affairs. It’s getting late now.”
The Zhao Kang Emperor stood up, saying: “I’ll go see Mother.”
In Qinglan Palace, Concubine Lan, now the Empress Dowager, was reclining on a soft couch reading. Though she had become Empress Dowager, she hadn’t moved from her palace, and her actions remained the same as before.
“Mother,” the Zhao Kang Emperor called after approaching.
The Empress Dowager put down her book, looked at the person before her, and smiled slightly: “Your Majesty seems in a good mood today, is it because of the victory reports from Jiuchuan?”
Before his mother, the Zhao Kang Emperor finally showed genuine joy, smiling: “Naturally. I hadn’t expected the Marquis of Wu’an to be so valiant, taking the city even before Yan He and Xiao Huaixi!”
Though he had originally given military power to He Yan, it was largely due to Xiao Jue’s influence. He had only heard of He Yan’s abilities but didn’t know how capable she was at leading troops in battle. Now, the victory reports had finally put his mind at ease—this woman was even more outstanding than he had imagined.
“It seems Your Majesty still underestimated her before, not believing the Marquis of Wu’an could truly command the battlefield,” the Empress Dowager understood.
The Zhao Kang Emperor was somewhat abashed. “I just hadn’t expected there would be a second woman like General Flying Swan in this world.”
The original “General Flying Swan” had been one in ten thousand, and the loss of such talent had been deeply regrettable. Now, with the emergence of another such blessed general, who could deny this was Heaven’s blessing on Great Wei?
“I told you long ago,” the Empress Dowager said softly, “don’t underestimate women. Among the countless women of Great Wei, who knows if there might be a third or fourth General Flying Swan?”
“Mother’s teaching is correct.”
“The Marquis of Wu’an is a person of pure thoughts and upright character. Such a worthy minister is hard to come by. Since Your Majesty has encountered one, you must certainly treat her well. This time she has achieved great merit in reclaiming Jiuchuan, and the He family has no background. Has Your Majesty thought about how to reward the Marquis of Wu’an?”
Hearing this, the Zhao Kang Emperor smiled and said, “Mother need not worry about this. I have already decided. When she returns to court, I will bestow upon her the title of true military general. From now on, she will have her place in Great Wei’s historical records.”
Just like the original General Flying Swan.