Chen Baoxiang waited two days in the city, calculating that the man had roughly arrived in the southern prefecture by then, before she began marshaling her forces to give chase.

His Majesty had said that intercepting him halfway wouldn’t yield serious enough charges — they needed to let out a long line to catch a big fish.

Chen Baoxiang had naturally assumed His Majesty had prepared ample troops for her, enough that she could ride into the southern prefecture and seize the man on the spot.

Instead, His Majesty smiled warmly and told her: “Twenty thousand troops would be making quite the spectacle, wouldn’t it? With your abilities, two thousand is plenty… Don’t get worked up now, this is the Imperial Study — hear me out.”

“The southern prefecture’s governor will coordinate with you to deploy troops as needed. When it comes down to it, won’t you be the one deciding exactly how many to use? But on the surface, it’ll look like you destroyed their four thousand cavalry with only two thousand soldiers — now doesn’t that sound impressive? I’m thinking of your reputation, after all.”

Chen Baoxiang listened through the whole speech, then scratched her head and asked: “Your Majesty, are you being stingy about the money?”

“How could that be.” Li Bingsheng covered her lips with a smile.

Sovereign and subject stared at each other for a long moment. Silence fell all around.

“All right, I won’t hide it from you.” Li Bingsheng spread her hands. “I’ve only just taken the reins of state, and every industry in the realm needs rebuilding — there are far too many places that need funds. Spending that much silver just to hunt down Cheng Huaili doesn’t strike me as a worthwhile investment.”

Even as she said it, she felt a little embarrassed — what kind of emperor haggles with her officials over the cost of troops?

But Chen Baoxiang, rather than growing angry upon hearing this, had a sudden flash of understanding: “When you put it that way, Your servant understands completely.”

Mobilizing that many people from Shangjing was indeed a waste of money and manpower, and Cheng Huaili was hardly worth it.

“Then your servant will take one thousand troops from the Western Camp and set out from Shangjing, then request additional men from the local prefectural governor once we arrive in the southern prefecture.” She said briskly. “Your Majesty need only give your servant the written imperial order and command token.”

Li Bingsheng: “……”

This reasonable.

She actually felt a little sheepish: “Is one thousand troops too few?”

“Not at all — it’s more than enough for your servant to travel safely to the southern prefecture and rendezvous with our contacts there.”

Chen Baoxiang clasped her hands in salute and strode away with great enthusiasm.

Li Bingsheng watched her retreating figure, unable to hold back a sigh of appreciation: “To have such an excellent general — what more could one ask for?”

Hua Lingyin nodded: “Bikongreported that ever since General Chen received her noble title, her days consist of nothing but carrying out tasks for Your Majesty and teasing Zhang Zhixu. Nothing else holds her interest.”

“Wasn’t she said to be very fond of money?”

“Your servant heard the same thing before.” Hua Lingyin thought for a moment. “But lately, quite a few people have been sending gifts to her residence, and she’s turned them all away.”

Not only that, but most of her own money had been distributed to the soldiers under her command. Just recently, she had even decided that the journey to the salt works was too far, and wanted to sell the Marquisate’s mansion in exchange for a smaller house near the city gates.

It was only after Hua Lingyin had talked her out of it at length — explaining that the residence had been bestowed by His Majesty and could only be lived in, not sold — that Chen Baoxiang had finally relented.

Hua Lingyin thought Chen Baoxiang was both greedy and guileless, truly a remarkable person.

But she also knew that His Majesty’s wariness toward others wouldn’t dissipate anytime soon, which meant that no matter how loyal Chen Baoxiang was, Bikong would always be there shadowing her.

Though compared to the cold, purely official reports at the beginning, Bikong seemed to have undergone a change of heart.

·

How could she not have changed?

Bikong had followed Chen Baoxiang out of the city en route to the southern prefecture, a thick cloak wrapped around her shoulders.

She had made it clear to Chen Baoxiang from the start: she was only His Majesty’s eyes.

But Chen Baoxiang neither pushed her away nor avoided her. When rewards were distributed, she had even handed her a thick red envelope.

“If you’re not in a hurry to return to the palace, come keep working with me,” Chen Baoxiang had said with a warm smile. “I’ll pay you wages.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Bikong had refused at the time. “The palace already pays my wages.”

“Wow, then I’ll give you a second set of wages, and you’ll have two~”

Bikong had been caught off guard, her expression complicated.

After all these days spent together, she naturally knew Chen Baoxiang was no simple figure — not nearly as cheerful and naïve as she appeared on the surface.

But she genuinely cared for others, always doing her best to avoid putting Bikong in difficult positions. She had even known that traveling in the cold would be miserable and given her this cloak in advance.

It wasn’t fur — probably not expensive — but it was very warm.

She was a bonded servant, bearing a slave register, forever ranked below others.

But in Chen Baoxiang’s eyes, she seemed to be treated the same as Fenghua and Zhao Huaizhu — just an ordinary friend who deserved to be cared for.

Pulling the cloak tighter, Bikong looked ahead.

Chen Baoxiang had produced a suit of rust-mottled armor from somewhere, scrubbed it clean, and simply strapped it on for the road. No carriage, no guards — she walked among the main force just like everyone else, eyes burning with determination as she gazed toward the southern prefecture.

With the prefectural governor’s cooperation, they quickly learned the location of the town where Song Juqing had his troops garrisoned.

The trouble was, the terrain there was elevated and difficult to breach, and the enemy’s cavalry drilled diligently every day.

Chen Baoxiang wanted to strike while they were still unaware and seize the advantageous ground first.

But the moment she crept close to the town, she spotted Cheng Huaili sitting atop the watchtower.

Shangjing had sealed off all information — by rights, he shouldn’t have known anything had happened. But one sweep of the trenches and hidden soldiers positioned throughout the terrain ahead made things clear to Chen Baoxiang.

Someone had leaked word.

Since the enemy was already prepared, there was no point in pretending otherwise. She had someone read the imperial edict aloud directly to Cheng Huaili, ordering him to return to the capital.

Predictably, Cheng Huaili let loose a torrent of abuse from atop the watchtower.

Chen Baoxiang nodded with satisfaction and said to the attending historian beside her: “Record all of it.”

Then she raised her banner, spurred her horse, and led the charge straight at the town entrance.

Back in the border garrison city, Chen Baoxiang had watched Cheng Huaili fight many battles with her own eyes. She knew his tactics and understood his methods of laying ambushes.

But she found it uninteresting.

That kind of victory bought by piling up human lives — anyone could win that way.

She adjusted her formation, then raised her sword and pointed it directly at the watchtower.

“Brute,” Cheng Huaili sneered.

This person didn’t even know how many troops he had and still dared to charge like this, leading from the front no less — she probably wouldn’t even know how she died.

“Release arrows!” he commanded.

Arrows rained down like a downpour, quickly stalling Chen Baoxiang’s assault.

Song Juqing’s cavalry burst from behind the mountains at that same moment, their wild battle cries reverberating in every direction, accompanied by the clash of iron armor — morale surged in an instant.

Any other unit would likely have broken and scattered in terror at this point.

But of the thousand-plus fighters Chen Baoxiang had brought, a careful look at their faces revealed one familiar countenance after another — some from Tianning Mountain, some from the Northern Gate, some from outside the Imperial Palace walls.

They had fought and won many battles alongside Chen Baoxiang. They believed with conviction that as long as she was there, no matter how many enemies stood across from them, they would win.

At precisely that moment, Chen Baoxiang drew her longbow and loosed an arrow. It tore through the air with unerring precision, striking true into the cavalry soldier carrying the camp’s battle standard.

“Kill——” Zhao Huaizhu roared.

The loyal soldiers charged forward, clashing head-on against the cavalry with fierce, unstoppable momentum.

The fighting grew intense, and the battlefield gradually fragmented into several separate engagements.

Chen Baoxiang took in the entire scene with a glance, frowned and shook her head, swept aside her opponent with a horizontal slash, broke free from the encirclement with her soldiers, and let out a sharp, piercing whistle toward the sky.

Wang Wu, holding out on the eastern flank, heard it and began directing her forces to converge toward Chen Baoxiang’s position. Zhao Huaizhu on the southern side also recognized that the enemy was attempting to encircle them and immediately converted the right flank into the vanguard, merging with the main force.

The formation adjustment was timely. They were not carved up and swallowed piecemeal.