By the time Xie Changgeng rushed back to the city, it was already past midnight. The steward, who had not slept, was waiting anxiously out front. Upon learning that he had returned, the man came running out to receive him and recounted the whole sequence of events. Xie Changgeng had someone bring a bowl of food, carried it with him, and made his way to the courtyard where his elderly mother was staying. He pushed the door open and went in.

His mother was lying in bed with her face to the wall, motionless.

Qi Lingfeng and Qiuju were kneeling before the bed, eyes red and swollen, pleading with his mother to eat. When they saw Xie Changgeng appear, Qi Lingfeng covered her face and wept aloud: “My lord, it was not I who stirred the Old Madam to this. Last night, I was entirely sincere in asking her to take me as her adopted daughter. I never expected the Old Madam to fly into a rage and refuse outright, which is how all of this came about. If there is even half a word of falsehood in what I have said, may I be struck by lightning and come to no good end.”

Qiuju also hurried to prostrate herself: “My lord, you do not know — the Old Madam was talking about leaving last night and it was Miss Qi who persuaded her to stay. But this morning the Old Madam would not eat or drink a thing — not even water. At her age, Miss Qi feared she would not hold out. She has been here on her knees begging her the whole day, and no matter what anyone says, the Old Madam will not listen.”

His mother let out a groan, her voice thin and feeble: “I have no wish to go on living. Do not trouble yourselves over me.”

A’Mao stood to one side, fingers in her mouth, eyes wide, her face a picture of utter helplessness.

Xie Changgeng ordered everyone out and closed the door. He carried the porridge to the bedside and spoke softly to the old woman lying with her back to him: “Mother, please sit up. Your son will serve you your meal…”

Before the words were even out of his mouth, his mother flung up a hand and swept the bowl from his grasp.

It landed with a loud crash. The bowl shattered and the porridge spilled across the floor.

Xie Changgeng paused.

“Mother, your son is unfilial. If I have given you cause for anger, please feel free to strike me and scold me, but whatever you do, do not let this ruin your health.”

His mother trembled as she pushed herself upright, and said furiously: “So you too know you are unfilial? Do you still consider me your mother at all? In your heart, you must be wishing I would die sooner rather than later — then you would be free of the nuisance forever!”

Xie Changgeng knelt down: “Mother, I have absolutely no such thought. Please calm yourself and eat first — will you do that?”

His mother flung back the quilt and clambered out of bed, saying as she went: “There is nothing more to say. I know that now that you have become a Military Governor, your wings are fully grown and you have no more need of me. I slaved and suffered to raise you — in the end, what was it all for? You will not even grant me this one thing. What is the point of living? I will end it myself right now — that way I will not be an obstacle in anyone’s path!” With that, she went stamping over to the table, rummaged through a sewing basket, pulled out a pair of scissors, and made to drive them into her own throat.

Xie Changgeng lunged forward and seized them from her.

His mother shoved him away and dropped down to sit on the floor.

“You are the only son I have. I toiled and suffered to bring you up from the time you were small. Have I ever asked anything great of you — all your life? It is one small matter, and I am not even asking you to drive away that woman! If you are not trying to force me to my death by denying me this, then what is it?”

Xie Changgeng said: “Qi Shi herself has agreed — she said she would be willing to become your adopted daughter. Why does it have to be that I take her as a concubine?”

“And yet you say that! Once you have spoken your mind so plainly, how could a girl in her position dare to say she refuses? Poor Feng’er — all these years she has waited for you, enduring every humiliation and swallowing every grievance, and in the end, you show her such cold ingratitude! Had I known it would come to this, I should have let myself drown and not survived. As it is, I have caused Feng’er to lose her mother, and now she has no one to lean on for the rest of her life! What face will I have to meet her mother when I die?”

His mother beat the floor with her hands as she wept and lamented.

Xie Changgeng watched the old woman sitting disheveled on the floor, tears and mucus streaming together, and his brow furrowed deeply. At long last, he said: “Mother, please get up. As for this matter — allow me to reconsider.”

For a long time, his mother had been making promise after promise to Qi Lingfeng, swearing that her son would certainly listen to her and would sooner or later bring her properly into the household. She had not expected him to appear to have made up his mind this time to refuse outright. On the one hand, she was crushed with disappointment; on the other, she was all the more unwilling to lose face before Qi Lingfeng. That was what had driven her to this spectacle of threatening to end her own life.

His mother stole a sidelong glance at her son.

Her son had yielded, but the look on his face was not pleasant. She was no fool — she could see plainly that this was a reluctant concession.

In these years, his rank had risen higher and higher, and his commanding authority pressed down on all those around him. She herself had received a noble title through her son’s position and enjoyed the admiration of all the neighbors back home.

Qi Lingfeng was certainly dear to her, but in the end, she depended on her son. The old lady was clear-eyed about that. He had finally backed down, and she had salvaged something of her dignity before Qi Lingfeng. She did not dare push further, afraid that if she truly enraged him, he would turn against her entirely.

“You keep pushing it off day after day — just how long must this drag on before you actually do something!” she grumbled.

Xie Changgeng let out a long, slow breath, and with great patience said: “I have been very occupied of late. I ask for your understanding, Mother. I will attend to it as soon as possible.”

He helped his elderly mother up from the floor.

“You have not eaten all day, Mother. Let your son serve you your meal.”

His mother wiped her tears and sat down.

“Geng’er — you do not blame Mother for forcing you, do you? You are the only son I have, and in everything I do, I am thinking of you. That Mu woman, the very look of her does not bode well — she is not suited to be your match. Feng’er, on the other hand, is someone I have known inside and out. She is steady, she is devoted — with her by your side to care for you, Mother can finally set her mind at ease.”

Xie Changgeng smiled gently: “I understand your good intentions, Mother.”

After a whole night of commotion, his mother was exhausted to the bone. Having finally forced her son to appear and relent, and finding him still as filial and obedient as ever, she knew when to stop. She ate a little, sighed repeatedly, and lay back down.

Xie Changgeng attended to his mother until she fell asleep, then came out and stood at the doorway, closed his eyes, rubbed his brow, and exhaled one long, slow breath.

The steward was still waiting outside.

The Madam had left the very day after the Old Madam arrived, and now all of this had unfolded on top of it — what could the steward not see in all of that? It was plainly the back quarters erupting in flame. Knowing the Old Madam had eaten and was now resting, he felt some relief — but seeing the Military Governor’s face dark and shadowed and his eyes faintly bloodshot, he did not dare say much. He only lowered his voice and said: “My lord, please set your mind at ease. I have already arranged everything regarding the Old Madam’s behavior today, reassigned all the unrelated servants away, and only a few people are aware of it. It will not spread outside.”

Xie Changgeng inclined his head in acknowledgment and told him to go and rest.

The steward replied that he would, and was about to leave when he was called back again. He saw the Military Governor standing there as though turning something over in his mind, and so asked: “Is there anything further my lord wishes to instruct?”

“The weather is getting cold. Tomorrow, go to the storeroom and select some fine clothing and ornaments — also a fire-silkworm fur coat, a pearled lace bed curtain, and a moonlit jade pearl — and send them all to the pasture for the Princess.”

These several treasures he had named were among the rarest things in the world, one-of-a-kind objects — tribute gifts presented in former years by several small kingdoms in the western regions.

The steward startled, then understood, and quickly agreed.

Xie Changgeng gave a small nod and turned to leave.

Several days later, he received a report from Liu An of Xiutu City and went there in person.

Liu An briefed him: at the sixty-year birthday celebration of the elder chieftain of the local tribespeople a few days prior, he had gone on behalf of the Military Governor bearing gifts and a letter of congratulation. Though he had not managed to meet the man in person, the tribute was accepted and someone had been sent to relay the chieftain’s thanks. He said he knew the Military Governor was busy with important affairs and would not dare to trouble him, and told him not to worry — they would look after themselves and keep the northern tribespeople from taking the Ma River Valley without a fight, and would not yield.

The meaning of this, in plain terms, was a polite but clear rejection of Xie Changgeng’s proposed meeting, an unwillingness to allow Xie Changgeng to assist with or become involved in the defense of the Ma River Valley, and a firm refusal to consider relocation.

Xie Changgeng’s brow furrowed slightly. He ascended the tower, gazed out toward the direction of the Ma River Valley in the distance, and after a moment of deliberation, said: “The northern tribes are in the midst of a power transition. Their new chieftain took power several months ago. With the weather turning increasingly cold, they will be on the move. Keep your guard up — you cannot afford to let your vigilance slip.”

Liu An received the order. With that business concluded, Xie Changgeng left the city. He rode to where the road forked. To the left lay the road back to Guzang. To the right lay the road to the pasture.

He reined in his horse, hesitated for a moment, then brought his escort with him and turned onto the right road.

…

Mu Fulan sat inside the room, gazing in a trance at the ornate chest that sat on the table in the corner — the one Xie Changgeng had dispatched the steward to deliver here several days ago. The light in the room gradually dimmed.

Another day was drawing to a close.

She glanced outside.

Since that day Xie Changgeng had left, Xi’er had been going off to ride horses the moment he finished his morning reading lessons.

Mu Fulan had been worried about the danger at first and always stood nearby watching. But after the past couple of days, seeing how well he rode and how gentle and docile the small horse was — never once bucking — and with two guards always at his side to protect him, she had set her worries aside.

On the past few evenings at this hour, the guards had already escorted Xi’er back. But today, for some reason, he had not yet returned.

She rose and went out. She had barely stepped out of the inner room when, from the side, a pair of arms reached out and pulled her close.

She closed her eyes briefly, then turned slowly to meet the gaze of a man whose eyes held a faint smile.

“When did you arrive?” she asked.

He did not answer. He simply lowered his head and pressed his lips to her cheek and throat.

Mu Fulan turned her face away.

“I was just going out to see when Xi’er is coming back,” she said.

Xie Changgeng drew her in more tightly and said in a low voice: “I saw him just now. I already had someone take him to eat dinner first.”

He said this, then lifted her up, carried her into the inner room, and set her on the bed. He unhooked the sword at his waist and set it on the table, then pressed himself down toward her and gazed at the beautiful face on the pillow in the dimming light, his hand gently gliding across her cheek.

“It has gotten cold. Did you not use the things I had the steward send? Why have you not touched them?”

Mu Fulan said: “You have come at just the right time. I accept the kind thought, but take the things back with you — I have no use for them.”

Xie Changgeng held her gaze for a moment, then said softly: “Mu Shi, I know I have done you wrong. Stay here a few more days — I will send my mother on her way.”

Mu Fulan smiled: “All right.”

He hesitated. “Mu Shi, there is something I need to tell you.”

He seemed to have something weighing on his mind, as though he could not quite find the words.

Mu Fulan said nothing, only continued to look at him with a quiet, steady smile.

“I will most likely be taking Qi Shi as a concubine.”

He finally said it.

“It is not what I wish. I have no choice in the matter — I hope you can understand.” He added at once.

Mu Fulan looked at the face before her.

In her previous life, the man who had shared her pillow had said the same thing to her as well.

She thought this coldly to herself, yet the smile on her face did not waver, and she said: “If you are staying for the evening, I will go and have someone prepare dinner for you.”

She pushed him off her and sat up, straightening the hair he had disheveled somewhat.

Xie Changgeng lay back on the pillow and watched her back.

Mu Fulan finished setting her hair right, then climbed off the bed — only to be caught by the wrist by the man behind her.

She fell against his chest.

“Are you angry?” He studied her.

“Even if I do take Qi Shi in, she will be kept at home to attend to my mother. It changes nothing for you.” He said.

Mu Fulan said: “Do whatever is most convenient for you. There is no need to tell me any of this.”

“If that is the case, then why will you not use the things I sent?”

Mu Fulan sighed.

“All right, all right — I was wrong. I failed to appreciate your kindness. I will take them out and use them right now — how is that?”

She pulled free of his arms, climbed off him, got out of bed, and was making her way to the corner to open the chest that had been sitting untouched since it arrived — when the man reached out and dragged her back, trapping her on the bed.

The bed curtains fell.

The bed frame began to emit faint, slow creaking sounds.

The man breathed hard, pressing into her with fierce, desperate urgency.

The last of the daylight was spent.

Dusk drew in from all sides, smothering the open land.

In the dim shroud of the bed curtains, Mu Fulan lay beneath the man like a small boat with nothing to hold to. She closed her eyes, and her thoughts drifted far away.

She remembered a time many years ago, when she was still a very young girl — that day, beneath the ancient cypress trees on Mount Jun, she had encountered a young man dressed in blue.

He had helped her rescue a small bird, and his smile was the brightest thing she had ever seen.

He had come down the mountain path through the trees, and he had left by that same path, and from that day forward, he had never come back.

One mistaken glance — and it had become the whole of her life.

Xie Changgeng touched her face, and his fingers met something cold and wet.

That coldness came in a steady, unceasing flow — seeping out from behind her closed eyelids without a sound, running down her cheeks, finding their way into her hair, soaking the pillow beneath.

He slowed, and then stopped. He lay on top of her, and over his broad, powerful back and shoulders, beads of brilliant sweat seeped without pause from every pore of his skin.

He spoke through gritted teeth, low and strained: “Why will you never try to understand my difficulties?”

Mu Fulan said: “Why should I? You are not the only one with difficulties. If I understand yours — who is there to understand mine?”

Xie Changgeng slowly raised his head and looked hard at the woman’s face on the pillow below him.

Pear blossoms in the rain — a beauty that moved in a hundred ways. She slowly opened her eyes and looked back at him, her gaze as cold as ice.

Xie Changgeng moved off her, got out of bed, and put his clothes back on.

“Do not push your luck. How do you compare to my mother?” he said.

He walked to the table and seized his sword. As he turned to go, his eyes fell on the ornate chest.

His figure stilled for a moment. The muscles at the corner of his eye twitched faintly. He abruptly drew his sword, and brought it down.

The chest split in two at the blow. The fur coat and the bed curtains split apart. Everything else inside spilled and cascaded out — bright pearls rolling and scattering across the floor.

He stepped over the scattered pearls and strode for the door. When he pulled it open, he found a small figure standing at the threshold, head tilted back, looking up at him — a drawn sword still in his hand.

Xi’er’s gaze held confusion and bewilderment, and a trace of unease.

He hesitated for a moment, and then said softly: “Lord Xie — what is wrong?”

Xie Changgeng slowly sheathed his sword, reached out, and ruffled the child’s head. Then he walked past him and was gone.

Late that night, when he returned to the Military Governor’s residence, he was met by a piece of news that had just come in.

The local tribespeople of the Ma River Valley had been attacked. The assailants had disguised themselves as his soldiers, and the tribespeople, catching not the slightest hint of suspicion at first, had suffered devastating casualties. Not only that — the elder chieftain himself had been struck by a poisoned arrow.

The tribespeople were now convinced it was he who had ordered the attack in retaliation for their refusal to relocate. They were gathering their warriors and swearing vengeance.