In the eleventh month of the first year of Longxing, Liu Jue’s great army crossed the Long River and took Yilong City.

Though Xia Guo was small, it was easy to defend and hard to attack. Every city, stockade, and the royal palace itself were built high on the mountains, relying on the terrain’s natural defenses. The climate was humid and warm, with no true winter across all four seasons. After the Ning army entered Xia’s territory, unfamiliar with mountain warfare and facing Xia’s frequent use of poison, they suffered considerable losses, and so Liu Jue stationed his troops along the border, neither advancing nor retreating, holding firm at every strategic pass. Xia Guo’s supplies quickly grew scarce. Xia, in turn, held its cities and refused to come down from the mountains to fight, and the two sides settled into a standoff.

Crown Prince Cang Xie led ten thousand troops in retreat to Black Wind Stockade. To this day he still couldn’t understand how the Ning army had crossed the natural chasm between East and West Yilong. As he pondered this question, Liu Jue stood at the site of the old suspension bridge, silently gazing down at the bottomless gorge below. A’Luo had once told him about the principle of a parabola. Over a gap of thirty-some zhang, he’d simply calculated the distance, driven a wooden stake into the mountaintop, and sent his best Black-Clad Cavalry warriors swinging across on long ropes; under cover of darkness they’d cut the bridge’s iron chains, and the soldiers had rushed across. It had been that simple.

“My lord! The Xia army has retreated to the various mountain stockades—Yilong City is now entirely under our control,” a general reported.

“Reinforce and widen the bridge, cut away the old iron chains, merge the two bridges into one. From now on there will be no East and West City here,” Liu Jue ordered flatly. He narrowed his eyes against the warm sun. The mountains flanking Yilong City blazed with even richer color now. Yellow, green, red, and white mingled together, painting the mountains as beautiful as a scroll—truly a lovely place.

Liu Jue walked in the sunlight, but his heart remained cold. Anye, who had gone into Xia Guo, had sent no word. Nor had there been any news of A’Luo. She had been missing for over half a year now, and he had not received the slightest trace of her. Chen had already fallen; she wasn’t in the south. After destroying Chen, Liu Jue had pressed on without rest, driving straight into Xia’s borders.

He walked slowly through the city. Yilong City’s doors and gates were shut tight, the empty streets patrolled only by Ning soldiers. Xuan Yi and Ming Yin followed close behind him. Liu Jue found himself looking around everywhere, searching. Anye had once mentioned seeing a “W”-shaped mark—if A’Luo was anywhere nearby, she would surely leave a sign. In every city he entered, he had fallen into the habit of walking slowly through the streets, looking everywhere; he had walked the length and breadth of Chen and found nothing. And now… Liu Jue withdrew his gaze, standing silently in the sunlight. Every time, only disappointment.

Ming Yin said softly: “My lord, you needn’t worry so much. Long ago the Black-Clad Cavalry dispatched agents to every nation, Xia Guo included. Word will come eventually.”

“Mm. Are there people stationed in Yilong City?” Liu Jue’s voice was flat, the spirited brightness once natural to his brow long since worn away by months of war into something grave and guarded; his face betrayed no emotion at all.

“Distributed among the ten most treacherous mountain stockades in Xia Guo. The old prince always said the harder a place is to attack, the more it needs an inside man.”

Liu Jue said nothing, continuing to walk. He would not give up until he’d walked the entire city—he simply couldn’t let it go! The sunlight was so brilliant, but A’Luo, where was your brilliant smile? Liu Jue looked up at the sun, feeling a slight ache behind his eyes—the sunlight was truly blinding. He lowered his gaze, and several curved lines flickered across his vision. He blinked—was his sight playing tricks on him? Perhaps his eyes had been in the sun too long, distorting the colors of everything, the scenery shuddering and fragmenting before him.

His body suddenly trembled violently. Xuan Yi started: “My lord!” and reached out to steady him. These past months Liu Jue had scarcely paused for breath—the moment the army breached one city, they pressed on to the next. Those who didn’t understand him thought him ruthless for destroying Chen so thoroughly, that the people of Chen hated him for not giving them a moment’s respite. Only the Black-Clad Cavalry knew that their lord was desperately searching for her, too anxious to rest even a single day. Every time a city fell, Liu Jue would walk its entire length, search every corner. Then came exhaustion, disappointment, and the excitement and hope of conquest dissolving into nothing. Yet he refused to give up, gathering his resolve again and again to press forward, to keep searching. These past months, hope and despair, joy and sorrow, had risen and fallen around him without end. After so many swings between extremes, the spirited, high-spirited fighting will of his early campaign had transformed into a silent rage, a silent grief…

Many times, Xuan Yi and Ming Yin had felt they themselves could barely bear it any longer—yet their lord would coldly issue orders, rallying morale, pressing onward! And now, finally, Xia Guo’s complex mountain terrain and unique poisonous mists had slowed the Ning army’s advance, giving them a chance to rest at last. The excitement of prolonged victory had left the soldiers utterly exhausted. Liu Jue had finally ordered them to hold every strategic pass in Xia Guo, seal off and surround the mountain stockades one by one, and let the army recover.

Was it that the moment his steps finally slowed, his nerves relaxed, and his body could no longer bear the strain? Xuan Yi watched his trembling lord with an aching heart and couldn’t help urging: “My lord, please sit and rest a while.”

Liu Jue shook off his hand and nearly collapsed onto a rock. Xuan Yi and Ming Yin, startled, rushed forward: “My lord!”

Liu Jue didn’t answer, running his fingers over and over across the faint, barely visible carved marks on the rock’s surface. He remembered A’Luo’s clear voice back in the valley.

“Want me to teach you English? I’m almost forgetting it myself.”

“What’s English?”

“It’s, um, a kind of code. Once you learn it, no one else can understand it—it’s a code only the two of us can read.”

“For example, this ‘SOS’ means ‘help.’ That’s too hard to remember, though—let’s start with something simpler.”

…

This was a code only the two of them knew. This was his A’Luo speaking to him. This was A’Luo telling him to save her! Liu Jue could no longer hold back the burning sting spreading through his nose, and the ache of memory rushed straight into his eyes. Half a year—half a year! He had finally found her. She was alive. She was here. She had been here! Liu Jue rose to his feet, overcome with emotion: “Order the men to search the entire city, every single house! Any suspicious markings or lines, leave nothing unchecked!”

“Yes!” The soldiers rushed to carry out the order.

“Xuan Yi, bring it with us!”

Xuan Yi blinked, uncertain who he meant to bring. Ming Yin looked over and asked carefully: “My lord?”

Liu Jue let out an “Ah,” laughing as he pointed at the rock. “Take it back to camp!”

The two exchanged a glance. These past months, their lord had grown excited over the slightest line or scribbled pattern—but this rock… Xuan Yi tilted his head, studying it for a long while. It looked like two curved lines flanking a circle—a river? The sun? Liu Jue suddenly rapped him on the head, the gloom that had clung to him for so long momentarily vanished: “This is A’Luo speaking to me. Only she and I can understand it.”

Realization dawned on both their faces, and they let out a long breath—finally, they’d found her! Liu Jue had once told them of four symbols representing the different directions, but this particular shape he’d never mentioned. Xuan Yi grinned: “The princess must be saying she misses you, my lord!”

Liu Jue’s smile faded at this. He said slowly: “She’s calling for help.”

The two froze, lowering their heads, saying nothing more.

A soldier came running from a distance, panting: “The inn—there are many markings in the inn!”

Liu Jue swept his robe aside and strode quickly toward the inn. The room was already tightly surrounded. Liu Jue pushed the door open and saw, on the wall and floor, several bold “W”-shaped lines splashed in ink. West—A’Luo was somewhere west of Yilong City! He opened his mouth, silently pleading in his heart: Heavens, don’t let me miss her again this time. Please, protect her, let me find her.

Xuan Yi and Ming Yin dutifully went to question the innkeeper, returning with faces full of excitement: “My lord, she came from Black Wind Stockade! Didn’t Cang Xie retreat to Black Wind Stockade too? Could he have taken the princess with him?”

“Which direction is that?” Liu Jue needed confirmation urgently.

“West of Yilong City!”

“Surround Black Wind Stockade! Not even a bird should be able to fly out!”

“Yes!”

Liu Jue stood quietly in the room, feeling his limbs go weak. He waved a hand feebly: “I’ll rest here a moment. Close the door and go.”

The door closed gently behind them. Liu Jue closed his eyes, imagining A’Luo’s presence… her pacing the room… sitting at the table, lost in thought… standing by the window, gazing into the distance… sleeping alone in this bed… marking the directions before she left, telling him to come save her… Liu Jue suddenly fell back onto the bed, laughing softly to himself—his A’Luo, his A’Luo had been thinking of him too, every single moment!

Black Wind Stockade was easy to defend and hard to attack; at the narrowest points of the mountain path, just two defenders could hold off any number of soldiers below. To storm the stockade alone risked the enemy using A’Luo as a hostage. Liu Jue was restless with frustration—she was right there on the mountain, and yet he couldn’t reach her!

An envoy from Zili in Fengcheng arrived after a thousand-li journey, carrying two missions: first, to negotiate the Xia king’s surrender; second, to inquire after Princess Qingluo’s whereabouts. Liu Jue arranged an escort for the envoy to the Xia royal palace, but said nothing about A’Luo’s whereabouts.

Finally, he summoned Xuan Yi and Ming Yin: “Tonight I will scout Black Wind Stockade under cover of darkness. Too many people would be counterproductive—Ming Yin, come with me. Xuan Yi, stay in the city to provide support!”

“Yes!”

After nightfall, Liu Jue and Ming Yin changed into black form-fitting clothes and quietly made their way up the mountain. The mountain paths could conceal ambushes at any point. Not wishing to alert the enemy, Liu Jue circulated his internal energy along the way, alert and watchful. They wove past the hidden sentries posted around the stockade, sneaking halfway up the mountain before finally being discovered—a gong sounded in the distance. Liu Jue cursed under his breath, signaled Ming Yin, and the two retreated swiftly. Gazing up at the mountaintop, he struck a nearby rock in fury, shattering it, and said darkly: “Let’s go back. If we force our way in, I’m afraid they’ll hurt her.”

Back in Yilong City, Xuan Yi came to greet him with a grin: “My lord, Commander Cheng has returned.”

Liu Jue’s face lit up. Inside, he found Cheng Shiyue standing gracefully in the room, his jade-colored robe hanging a little loose on him now—he’d grown noticeably thinner, though his eyes remained as bright as stars as ever. Liu Jue waved a hand, signaling he needn’t bow: “Come here and let me hug you!”

Cheng Shiyue startled, his body going rigid, forcing out an awkward smile: “Did the old prince tell you to do that?”

Liu Jue laughed and stepped forward, pulling Cheng Shiyue into an embrace, resting his head on his shoulder: “He’s not here, so I’ll hug you instead. A’Luo is right there in Black Wind Stockade, and I—I still can’t reach her…”

Cheng Shiyue shuddered, caught between laughter and exasperation: “My marshal, my lord, please don’t do this! Word has already spread through Fengcheng that you favor men—and I already have a son on the way…” He suddenly recalled the warmth of paternal affection he’d felt whenever the old prince embraced him, and how Liu Jue, though the same age as him, stirred in him an urge to protect him for a lifetime. Cheng Shiyue’s eyes grew misty, thinking how fortunate he was to have found this father and son. And now he had his own family too, his own son. “I know. She’s in Black Wind Stockade—you’ll see her soon, alright?”

After a moment, Cheng Shiyue pushed Liu Jue back and said seriously: “The King of Xia is ready to surrender.”

Liu Jue raised an eyebrow: “Why?”

Cheng Shiyue smiled: “The old prince always felt that attacking Xia outright would cost us dearly—Xia’s surrender is the best outcome. So when I left Ning Guo, the old prince instructed me that if I came to Xia, I must be sure to meet with the Queen of Xia. I’ve already made contact with Queen Mingyue. She’s Xia’s Holy Maiden, equal in standing to the King himself. All the poisons Xia uses are made by her own hand. If it means sparing her people from the ravages of war, she’ll agree. Turn Xia into a vassal state of Ning—a conquest in all but name.”

“You’ve already reached an agreement with Queen Mingyue?”

“Yes, and I’ve already sent word back to Fengcheng, so Prince Li is dispatching envoys to formalize the treaty,” Cheng Shiyue said with a smile, glossing over the many details in between.

“The King of Xia is willing?” Liu Jue was skeptical—given that the King of Xia had made contact with Wang Yanhui and helped Prince Anqing in his rebellion, this couldn’t be so simple.

Cheng Shiyue smiled: “The King of Xia himself isn’t willing at all—the Xia royal palace has been in an uproar. He’s only reluctantly agreed now. But Crown Prince Cang Xie remains a problem.”

“What kind of man is he? I’ve only heard rumors of him this whole time, never seen him in person.”

“Very few have seen his true face. He always hides it behind a mask.”

Liu Jue thought of the figure on the white horse below Yun City’s walls, and after a moment’s reflection said: “It seems we’ll have to accept Xia’s surrender at face value for now, but it will remain a hidden threat here going forward—better to destroy it outright.”

“Destroy the nation? Even if we killed the King of Xia, the people of Xia would still be trouble—we can’t kill them all.”

True enough—the people of Xia revered their own gods, and this entire land was mountain and forest. Liu Jue thought for a moment, then smiled: “I imagine Prince Li intends to slowly assimilate them over time, eliminating the threat gradually. All I want is A’Luo. The realm belongs to Prince Li—if this is what he wants, then so be it.”

On the tenth day of the twelfth month of the first year of Longxing, the King of Xia surrendered, taking the title Marquis of Xia, and offered up the noble ladies of every city and stockade for Ning Guo to select from.

The gates of every city and stockade in Xia Guo, closed for three months, finally opened. Liu Jue led his troops up to Black Wind Stockade at the first opportunity. On the open ground behind the stockade gates, several hundred Xia people knelt. Ten thousand Xia soldiers had laid down their weapons and knelt to one side. Liu Jue looked around, saw no sign of Cang Xie, and asked in a low voice: “Where is the Xia crown prince?”

A soldier beside him answered: “We asked—they say he slipped down the mountain in secret long ago.”

Liu Jue slowly walked closer to the kneeling crowd. Suddenly his eyes caught on something—two young women knelt at the very front, one small and delicate, the other slender and a head taller. From their profiles, both were beautiful girls; from their attire, they must be noble ladies of the stockade. “Raise your heads,” he commanded.

The two slowly lifted their faces. The shorter one’s eyes shimmered with tears, lively and lovely; the taller one was delicately shy and captivating, beautiful as a celestial being. She was, in truth, no less beautiful than A’Luo.

“My lord, the princess—there’s no sign of her.” Having searched the entire stockade, Xuan Yi couldn’t bear to deliver the news, his voice dropping to barely a whisper. Yet it struck Liu Jue like a thunderclap. How long had he waited, hoped, endured? Finally the stockade gates had opened, and this was the news that greeted him. Fury erupted from him in an instant. Liu Jue glared with reddened eyes and demanded coldly: “Where is the princess?”

Little Bubble stole a glance at the woman beside her, then lowered her head and said nothing.

Liu Jue’s sword flashed out instantly, resting against her throat: “Speak!”

The woman beside her sprang to her feet, a voice like a silver bell ringing out: “I’ve heard Prince Pingnan is one of the Five Young Lords of Fengcheng, gentle and courteous toward women—is this what that means?”

A blade-sharp glint flashed in Liu Jue’s eyes, and in an instant his sword swung to point at this woman instead: “I’ll ask once more—where is she?” The sword’s tip had already touched the collar of her robe.

Little Bubble, terrified, threw herself forward: “My lord, please don’t! The princess was taken away by Chu Nan!”

Chu Nan. Chu Nan! Liu Jue seemed unable to suppress the violence surging within him any longer. He barked an order in fury: “Take the women. Execute the men on the spot!”

Little Bubble went pale with fear—there were tens of thousands of people here, tens of thousands of lives at stake. She screamed: “Sister wouldn’t like you doing this! She’d hate you for it, she would!”

The woman beside her, seemingly especially anxious, reached out to grab her: “Little Bubble! Be quiet!”

Liu Jue seized Little Bubble by the collar: “Who’s your sister?!”

Little Bubble’s collar cinched around her neck, her face flushing red, but she pointed a finger at the jade pendant hanging from her neck. Liu Jue released her and tore the pendant free—it looked achingly familiar. It was the one he’d given A’Luo, the pendant he’d given her that day after his match with Chu Nan. Seeing it, his eyes burned with a stinging ache. So this was what people meant by “the object remains but the person is gone.” Liu Jue clutched the jade piece, its edges digging painfully into his palm. He looked at Little Bubble anew—small, delicate, innocent and adorable. Had A’Luo grown fond of her? Fond enough that this girl called her “sister”? Had she stayed here because this girl had cared for her? After a long moment, he took a deep breath and asked: “The King of Xia offered up the noble ladies of every stockade—are you two among them?”

The woman beside Little Bubble spoke softly: “This humble one is called Ya Er. She is called Mahua. My lord, Mahua is still young—I beg you to let her stay behind to care for her father. I, Ya Er, will go with you instead.”

Little Bubble let out an “Ah!” Ya Er shot her a sharp look, and Little Bubble lowered her head, tears falling like pearls.

“Ya Er? Mm, a beautiful name. Bring her along!” Liu Jue swept his gaze over the trembling, kneeling Xia people and declared: “Ning and Xia are now one nation. From now on, you are all subjects of Ning. Soldiers will rejoin the ranks under our command; everyone else may disperse.”

One person in the crowd rose to leave, casting a glance at Xuan Yi as they went. Xuan Yi understood and followed. Before long he returned, reporting quietly: “Chu Nan took the princess and headed south.”

Liu Jue nodded. Ming Yin led a detachment of the Black-Clad Cavalry to track them.

That night, Jihua Tower, the grandest pleasure house in Yilong City, was cleared out and filled with the noble ladies from every city. Liu Jue held a grand victory banquet, ordering the ladies to serve wine. The Ning soldiers, having endured hardship for the better part of a year, were overjoyed at the chance to finally relax. Liu Jue had given strict orders beforehand that there was to be no vulgarity—flirtation was fine, but nothing more. One soldier grumbled discontentedly: “Isn’t the marshal just letting us look without touching? What’s the point of that?”

Cheng Shiyue laughed softly: “These are all noble ladies of Xia Guo. If you lot behaved like brutes, wouldn’t you frighten these delicate girls half to death? The lord wants you to make a good impression, so you might marry one and take her home. If you truly want to indulge yourselves, Jihua Tower has plenty of other girls for that.”

The generals suddenly understood, all praising the marshal’s thoughtfulness. The unmarried generals, freshly bathed and groomed, sat more properly than they ever had in camp. Liu Jue and Cheng Shiyue exchanged a glance and couldn’t help but laugh, turning away.

As the lanterns were lit, the noble ladies stepped cautiously into the hall, the more timid ones already on the verge of tears, not daring to let them fall. They took their seats at the tables, hands trembling as they poured the wine. Yet to everyone’s surprise, the generals had all shed their battle-hardened fierceness, their voices softening tenfold at the sight of these delicate Xia beauties, each lovelier than the last. There was a particular charm to this foreign elegance—back in Ning Guo, men of their rank could never have hoped to marry ladies of such standing. Liu Jue had made clear that only willing ladies could be taken into a household, so the generals were all the more careful. By the meal’s end, the gathering had become something closer to a display of gentle courtship than a soldiers’ feast.

Music rose on all sides, and the singing girls of Jihua Tower danced gracefully.

Liu Jue smiled faintly. Ya Er, seated beside him, noticed his smile and said: “No woman in this world could resist my lord’s smile. You are the hero in my eyes—please, share this cup with me!”

Liu Jue turned to look at her. She had dressed with great care that evening—slender shoulders, a narrow waist, the open-collared silk robe embroidered in Xia’s distinctive floral patterns revealing a hint of snow-white skin at her chest, her long hair simply gathered at the back of her head, a few loose strands framing her graceful, slender neck. Her skin was smooth as polished jade, her long, narrow phoenix eyes carrying a seductive, liquid gleam that seemed almost to drip, lending her an air of boundless allure. Her lips were thin and small, lightly rouged; when she smiled, that line of red parted to reveal teeth like pearls, utterly inviting.

Rumor had it that Xia’s Holy Maiden, Queen Mingyue, possessed beauty enough to topple cities. Looking at this Ya Er before him now, it seemed the rumors of Xia’s beautiful women were no exaggeration. Setting aside A’Luo, he had never seen anyone more beautiful than her.

Liu Jue smiled and took up his cup, raising it to his lips under Ya Er’s bashful gaze—then suddenly set it down again. He gently took her hand instead: “Miss Ya Er’s hands are very soft.”

Ya Er’s face flushed red with embarrassment, and she pulled her hand free with a slight tug, chiding him: “My lord! I’ll have you drink as punishment!”

“Haha!” Liu Jue laughed heartily, reaching out to tilt up her bashful face, his eyes full of teasing mischief: “It’s hardest of all to bear a beauty’s favor—very well, I’ll drink.”

He raised the cup to drink, his eyes sliding sideways toward her, a flash of urgency in them: “Come, let me hold you first.” He reached out and pulled Ya Er’s shoulders toward him, feeling her entire body stiffen. He frowned slightly: “What’s wrong? Unwilling?” His expression darkened.

“How could that be?” Ya Er forced out a smile. “I’m just… not used to this…” Her body leaned in closer against him.

Liu Jue let out a soft laugh, seemingly a little drunk, his eyes sweeping over the pale skin of her exposed neck and chest. He pulled her close as if to kiss her, one hand drifting, seemingly by accident, toward her chest.

Ya Er’s hand shot up to block and push him away: “My lord, there are… there are too many people here…” Her voice had dropped to barely a whisper, her cheeks flushed crimson, torn between resistance and yielding, a thousand shades of allure in her reluctance.

Liu Jue seemed to freeze for a moment, then laughed and abruptly stood, scooping her up in his arms, announcing to the assembled officers: “I’ll take my leave first!” And with the word “leave,” he suddenly flung the Ya Er in his arms away from him.

“Ah!” Ya Er screamed. Before she hit the ground, someone burst through the door and caught her. The two of them tumbled to the floor together. Ya Er looked up, furious: “Little Bubble, you—!”

Little Bubble, face streaked with tears, said in a low voice: “No, no… I beg you…”

“You—!” Fury blazed in Ya Er’s eyes.

Everyone at the banquet was stunned by this sudden turn of events. Liu Jue said unhurriedly: “Does Miss Mahua not wish for your prince to enjoy himself with me?”

Ya Er slowly rose to her feet, her eyes turning cold as ice: “So Prince Pingnan saw through it long ago!”

“Ya Er… isn’t that just Xie, backward? Prince Cang Xie—unfortunately, you resemble Queen Mingyue rather closely. As it happens, I’ve just had the pleasure of meeting her myself,” Cheng Shiyue said with a light laugh.

“Cang Xie!” Little Bubble let out a cry of anguish, her eyes brimming with longing and desperate hope.

Cang Xie crouched down and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek: “Little Bubble, everyone has their own path to follow!” He gazed at her deeply for a long moment. Then, turning back, he shook out a soft sword, aimed directly at Liu Jue: “My father has surrendered, but Cang Xie still stands. Liu Jue, prepare to die!”

The women in the hall cried out in shock, their faces draining of color; the generals stared, dumbfounded. Little Bubble’s eyes lit with a strange radiance, murmuring: “So beautiful…”

Cang Xie’s soft sword curved and coiled like a serpent, gleaming with scaled light as his robes billowed, his black hair dancing in the air, his perfect face carrying a chilling killing intent, seductive to the point of danger. Liu Jue sighed—he truly was beautiful.

A soft clang rang out as the two blades met. The soft sword slid harmlessly aside; Liu Jue flipped backward, releasing his grip, then struck back with an open palm. Cang Xie rode the force of the blow, spinning away to dissipate it, then lightly touched down and leapt back in. As they traded blows, Liu Jue called out: “Your Highness, why be so stubborn? Your father and mother have both surrendered.”

“I will never allow it!” Cang Xie’s face flushed with fury, and his strike turned vicious—a wisp of pale blue smoke shot from his fingertips straight toward Liu Jue.

Cheng Shiyue’s expression changed; he shot forward like an arrow, sweeping the smoke into his sleeve with a flick of his robe, placing himself between Liu Jue and the danger. Cang Xie froze—that poison killed on contact with skin, and he hadn’t truly wanted to resort to it unless absolutely necessary; his pride wouldn’t allow him to win by poison. Several times during the banquet he’d nearly used it and held back. But seeing his identity exposed by Liu Jue, and hearing him declare that his father and mother had surrendered, fury had gotten the better of him. Yet this Cheng Shiyue had swept the poison into his sleeve without the slightest ill effect!

Fury surged in Cang Xie’s long, narrow eyes, and he lunged at Cheng Shiyue with his soft sword. “My lord, stand back!” Cheng Shiyue barked, meeting the attack bare-handed, both palms forming a seal as he unleashed the same Flying Snow technique in an instant, his form flickering unpredictably. Suddenly one palm struck Cang Xie square in the chest; he spat blood and fell like a kite with its string cut. After a couple of coughs, it was clear—Cheng Shiyue’s strike had shattered the meridians around his heart.

The moment Cang Xie hit the ground, Cheng Shiyue seemed to freeze for an instant, his hand half-extending then withdrawing, a complicated look in his eyes—something like pity, something like a sigh, something like sorrow, impossible to define clearly.

Little Bubble scrambled forward, crying and crawling: “Cang Xie, Cang Xie! What’s wrong, don’t scare me like this!”

Cang Xie grew calm: “Little Bubble, I… was simply too proud…”

“You should be proud! You’re the proudest prince our Xia Guo has ever had!” she wept, and nearly every noble lady in the hall began weeping as well. He was the most noble, most beautiful prince in their hearts.

Cang Xie’s lips curved into a faint, forced smile: “My lord, to die here in Jihua Tower—Cang Xie has no regrets.”

“Your Highness,” Liu Jue sighed deeply, “if you wished to die here so that Queen Mingyue and the Marquis of Xia might avenge you, you needn’t have bothered with this plan. I never wished to kill you…” He loosened his grip, and a strip of yellow silk fluttered down before Cang Xie. On it was written, unmistakably: “Cang Xie’s pride will not allow him to surrender. If he presses on relentlessly without regard for his people, kill him.” It was signed in his mother Queen Mingyue’s own hand.

“Haha! Ha… hahaha!” Cang Xie laughed until he could barely breathe, and it was unclear whether what streaked down his face was tears or sweat. His mother—Xia’s Holy Maiden, the exalted Queen Mingyue who always placed her people above all else! She would give up even her own son! Cang Xie’s face darkened, and he looked at Liu Jue with venomous hatred: “Princess Qingluo went into the mountains with Chu Nan. Those mountains are riddled with poison and toxic mists. You—” he gasped for breath, “—what you find may already be nothing but bones!”

Liu Jue’s heart turned to ice. Chu Nan already hated him to the bone; he didn’t dare imagine whether Chu Nan would show A’Luo any mercy now that she was in his hands, let alone think of the terrible things lurking in Xia’s dense jungles. If he hadn’t had to deal with this Cang Xie, he would have given chase long ago. Liu Jue looked down at Cang Xie on the ground, deeply regretting that Cheng Shiyue’s strike had been too swift and merciful.

“Ha!” Cang Xie laughed again, coughing up another mouthful of blood, hatred deepening in his eyes. Chu Nan had actually fallen for that Princess Qingluo—fighting to the death to keep him from using her as a hostage, sacrificing every one of his loyal guards to spirit the princess down the mountain alone. They would surely never escape the poisons of the mountains!

A fresh stab of pain hit his chest, and his gaze turned to Cheng Shiyue: “Well done. You made my mother abandon her own son. You—you weren’t even afraid of my poison! Just who are you?” He coughed up another mouthful of blood, staining his robes in scattered red.

Cheng Shiyue smiled faintly: “I don’t wish to see the people of Xia die in war! Cang Xie, I won’t let you harm my lord! Xia may fall, but its people are innocent. Why must it come to war? If Ning cannot conquer Xia now, in ten years, twenty years—could it truly never be done?”

Cang Xie’s gaze grew distant. He turned to look at Mahua, still weeping without end, and heard her mountain songs echoing in his ears once more—those days had been so beautiful! Cang Xie smiled faintly: “Little Bubble, you will always be that little bubble in the Long River. I am Xia’s Cang Xie, not Ning’s… Cang Xie…” And with those final words, he breathed his last.

“Someone, carry him back to the Marquis’s palace with care,” Liu Jue ordered gravely.

“My lord, please allow me to take Cang Xie back myself!” Little Bubble wept.

“Very well. This pendant was a gift from A’Luo—keep it. If you ever tire of staying here, come find us in Fengcheng.” Liu Jue pressed the jade pendant into Little Bubble’s hands. He looked around at the weeping noble ladies in the hall and sighed deeply: “I’ll take my leave now. Carry on.”

“Farewell, my lord!” The generals rose as one. After Liu Jue left, the ladies were also escorted out by the generals. Music started up again in Jihua Tower, laughter and chatter filling the air, each general now accompanied by one of the house’s own girls.

Someone suddenly laughed and cursed good-naturedly: “Now that’s more like it! A moment ago I didn’t know where to put my hands!”

Laughter erupted through the hall.

“Thinking of A’Luo?” Cheng Shiyue’s voice came from beside Liu Jue.

Liu Jue didn’t turn: “Go back to Fengcheng. Word from home says your son is already three months old and still hasn’t met his father.”

“I’m not even worried about my own son—why are you worried for me? I’m here under orders to find the princess. If she doesn’t come back with me, how am I to report back?” Cheng Shiyue said lightly.

Liu Jue turned around: “Drink?”

Cheng Shiyue slowly raised both hands, one of them holding a wine jar: “A Xia specialty—the old prince would definitely love this!”

Even in Xia Guo, where winter never truly came, the night wind of the twelfth month carried a chill. Liu Jue and Cheng Shiyue sat on the cliffside, drinking deeply, warmth rising from their bellies. “Good wine!” Liu Jue praised. He glanced sideways at Cheng Shiyue. “The old man says you’re more filial to him than I am!”

Cheng Shiyue’s eyes sparkled: “You’re not filial to him at all! If you ask me, it’s the old prince who ought to be worshipping you like his own father—he’s the one being filial to you!”

Liu Jue couldn’t help laughing: “Only today do I realize what a witty man you are. To think, back when we were both counted among the Five Young Lords of Fengcheng, why didn’t I spend more time with you?”

“Neither of us wanted to bow to the other, that’s why! Think about it—I, Cheng Shiyue, mastered both scholarship and swordsmanship, top scholar of the examinations at eighteen, while you were nothing but a dissolute, carefree young prince!” Cheng Shiyue said, the corner of his mouth curling with feigned disdain.

“I remember, at Prince Li’s wedding, I once summed up the Five Young Lords with him, and praised him as the foremost among us. What flattery that was! He is Ning’s king, emperor of all under heaven—good thing I didn’t go and declare myself the true foremost instead!”

“What you really mean is, good thing you didn’t say it was me, Cheng Shiyue, right?” Cheng Shiyue grinned slyly.

A low chuckle slipped from Liu Jue’s throat: “Right now, I really do want to say that. I still don’t know how you managed it.”

“You’ve figured it out?”

Liu Jue’s gaze flicked briefly to his chest. “Tianxiang says he admires me, and honestly, I admire myself too—somehow I always manage to see things others miss. But there are two people I admire now. One is my own father. The other is you.”

A suspicious glint of moisture shone in Cheng Shiyue’s eyes: “Want to know why?”

Liu Jue shook his head: “You’re my brother. You have your own reasons. Not every reason needs to be shared with someone else.”

Cheng Shiyue smiled, an inscrutable smile, and changed the subject: “Do you know what I felt, the first time I saw the Qingfei and Qingluo sisters at the Peach Blossom Banquet?”

“You saw her there too, at the Peach Blossom Banquet?” At the mention of A’Luo, Liu Jue’s eyes lit up.

“She was unusual. Clever, I’d say—cunning too, in a way. Yes, sly, really. Only twelve years old, and already she knew to step aside and give her sister room, walking off on her own. She didn’t feel like a little girl at all,” Cheng Shiyue reminisced. “The second time I saw her was at the crown prince’s night banquet. That way she played the qin—you can’t capture the true meaning in a melody like that without having lived through hardship. She seemed full of contradictions—sometimes she seemed like a child her age, other times like a grown woman.”

“When I met her at Linnan, that sense of her having grown up overnight was even stronger. That day of heavy snow…” Liu Jue’s brow furrowed. “Is it snowing heavily tonight, by any chance?”

Cheng Shiyue glanced at him: “Thinking of Prince Li?”

“Yes. Tonight must be hard for him too,” Liu Jue said, tilting his head back to drink. “In the end, I still owe him.”

Cheng Shiyue’s expression darkened: “When I went to the border city and the grasslands to deliver messages, both times he didn’t even notice me—because he was thinking of…”

The two fell silent, drinking quietly together.