The night was deep and dark. The sprawling connected courtyards of the Shen Mansion showed no lights. In all that blackness, the only place where lamplight could still be seen was the inner chamber where the master of the house resided.

When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter. The male master of this mansion had formally declared his withdrawal from the contest of power in the capital. The mistress had some time before returned to her maternal family, and naturally the servants had scattered as well, each finding their own way. The vast mansion now had only a handful of people left.

Xiao Shi had returned from her maternal family. She stood at the door of the inner chamber, staring at the sliver of lamplight leaking through the window. In a moment of abstraction, she found herself thinking, for reasons she could not quite explain, of her past.

When she had been a young woman, upon learning that she had been chosen from among the eligible daughters of many noble families in the capital and designated as the Prince Qin consort, she had been too excited to sleep a wink that entire night. She had harbored such admiration for that vigorous, radiant young prince. From the very first moment she had glimpsed him from a distance, she had been captivated. When he was unjustly condemned and sent to Wuyou Palace, she had even contemplated casting off the bonds of family and following him regardless of the consequences.

Of course, that was impossible. In the end she had married Shen Yang — the man who at the time had been the most promising rising star in the capital.

Before the unexpected turn of events that had now come to pass, her family had not been wrong in their judgment of him. There had been a period when she too had felt the man’s appeal, and she had even thought that if he were to give himself to her wholeheartedly, she might be willing to grow old with him.

But he had disappointed her.

He did not love her at all. His eyes held nothing but power. She, as his wife, was a stepping stone for elevating his status. His later mistress, the Princess Imperial, was the leverage that helped him rise further.

Nothing more than that.

Once she had gradually seen through it all, though she hated Li Lihua, she had also felt, alongside that hatred, a certain grim satisfaction born of her contempt for Li Lihua.

What did a lofty status matter? In the eyes of a heartless, ruthless man like Shen Yang, the women around him were nothing more than living tools to be used. That was true of her — and of Li Lihua, too, it was no different.

But now, things had changed.

From the moment that woman appeared, and she discovered that her husband was coveting her — the self-consoling understanding she had held for all these years suddenly shattered, impossible to sustain any longer.

If she had not witnessed it with her own eyes that day, she would never have believed that Shen Yang could humiliate himself before a woman to such a degree — crouching at her feet to put on her shoes.

When she had seen that, she had nearly thought she was looking at the wrong person.

Why in the world would he be willing to lower himself like that to draw close to her, to ingratiate himself with her?

And what benefit could she possibly bring him?

Xiao Shi had thought about it for a long while and could not work it out.

Since there was no practical gain to be had, the only explanation was that he had been bewitched by that woman and had conceived a desire to possess her.

Pure and simple — the desire of a man to possess a woman.

This filled Xiao Shi with a sense of humiliation. True humiliation — even more than when she had first learned that the Princess Imperial was his mistress.

With her proud, high-spirited nature, she could not accept such a thing.

Li Lihua was no longer the woman she hated most. In Xiao Shi’s heart, the most hated person had become that woman.

That day at Ziyang Temple, Li Xuandu had rejected her without mercy. Even now, when Xiao Shi thought of it, the pain was like a needle piercing her heart. That little wretch had claimed the one man she had ever truly loved in her life — and now her own husband’s heart inclined toward her as well.

Since he had shown her no mercy, she would show him no loyalty. And so she had seized an opportunity before this and disclosed a piece of information to the new Emperor Li Chengyu: her husband, Southern Division Commander Shen Yang, coveted the Prince Qin consort.

It was already an open secret that the new Emperor had a particular attachment to that woman who had married his Imperial Uncle.

Based on what she had gathered, the new Emperor’s first priority in consolidating his power would naturally be dealing with Shen Yang. Now that he had received this additional piece of information, Xiao Shi did not believe he would remain indifferent.

Her purpose had finally been achieved.

A complex expression flickered through her eyes. She steadied herself and pushed open the door.

The man was no longer wearing his official robes. In ordinary civilian clothing, he sat behind the desk, holding a snow-white handkerchief, polishing the edge of a sharp sword.

The candle flame on the desk danced; a dark gleam flickered along the sword’s edge.

He appeared entirely absorbed, as though he had not even noticed her entering. He continued polishing the sword. It was not until Xiao Shi had stood before him for some time that he finally spoke: “What is it?”

Even as he spoke, his eyes remained on the sword. He did not look at her.

Xiao Shi said: “I came to ask you something. You are leaving. What am I to do from here on?”

Shen Yang continued polishing the sword, his tone indifferent: “Being away from the capital, you would not be at ease staying there either — feel free to remain. If you want to dissolve our marriage, I can agree to that as well.”

Xiao Shi nodded: “Those are your own words. Fine — since I am of no more use to you now anyway.”

She said this through clenched back teeth, then turned to leave. But suddenly she stopped, shot him a sideways glance, and in the end could not help herself. A mocking smile surfaced at the corner of her lips: “I truly never imagined the Commander also turns out to be a man with tender feelings. After all we have been as husband and wife, I will offer you one last word of advice: beware of beautiful women who bring ruin — lest you get burned playing with fire.”

Xiao Shi finished speaking, gave a cold laugh, turned, and walked out without looking back.

Shen Yang’s expression remained impassive. He continued polishing the sword until he finished, then slowly raised it and held it horizontally before his eyes.

He stared at the pair of deep-set eyes reflected in the sword blade, bright as a mirror. Before him the image of that woman surfaced unbidden — he recalled the day he had been beguiled by her, leaning in to breathe the fragrance of her hair, only to fall straight into a trap.

The eyes carved into that blade flickered several times.

His jaw slowly tightened. He suddenly stood, swung the sword, and brought it down hard against the corner of the desk before him.

The corner of the desk met the blade and split away — like a severed head — and dropped to the floor instantly.

He stared at the now-missing corner of the desk. A ferocious expression crossed his face. After a long moment he closed his eyes, and with a clang, dropped the sword. He strode to the window, threw it open with both hands, and took a long, deep breath of the night wind.

He would return.

And he was certain it would not be long.

Unless Li Chengyu could tolerate his Imperial Uncle indefinitely — and keep tolerating him until he himself had no opportunity left to act.

But was that possible?

…

Shen Yang, once the all-powerful Commander of the Southern Division, departed the capital to return home and observe the mourning period.

Unlike Shen Yang’s quiet, desolate departure, Han Rongchang bid farewell to friends and family and set off on his journey westward.

Though those at home strongly disapproved of his impulsive decision and remonstrated with him vigorously — some even threatening to go before the new Emperor and have the appointment rescinded on his behalf — no amount of opposition could change his resolve.

He had long since grown weary of the capital. Now he felt as though he had escaped a cage, his spirits buoyant beyond measure. His greatest wish was to reach the Western Regions as quickly as possible, to meet up with Li Xuandu at last, and from there to build merit and glory and hold his head high.

Come to think of it, he had once been the one who had played matchmaker between Li Xuandu and the Pu girl — who could have imagined that after all these twists and turns, they would end up on the same side? If that wasn’t fate, what was?

Han Rongchang itched to sprout wings and fly there instantly. His impatience made him feel the Baole prince was moving far too slowly on the road, and he kept urging him on without stop. The prince did not dare defy him and gritted his teeth to keep up with the pace. The group pressed on urgently, traveling by day and resting by night, all the way west. Finally, in the last month of the sixth year of the Xiaochang era, they arrived in Baole Kingdom.

Li Xuandu, having learned of his arrival in advance from the beacon-fire sentries, personally rode out dozens of li to welcome him. Upon meeting, the joy between them need not be described. When he heard that Han Rongchang had sought this post himself — solely to build merit alongside Prince Qin from here on — Li Xuandu burst into laughter and stepped forward to embrace him. He brought Han Rongchang, the prince, and their party first to Shuang Clan City for introductions with Pu Zhu and Ye Xiao, and that evening hosted a banquet, introducing Zhang Shishan, Zhang Zhuo, and the others to Han Rongchang one by one. All were bold and fearless men who hit it off immediately, calling each other brothers. That evening they drank to their hearts’ content, and the next day Li Xuandu personally escorted the prince and his party to Yan City, the capital of Baole Kingdom.

The prince ascended the throne as king and immediately abolished all previously imposed extra taxes. He also, under the practical guidance of the Protectorate, reorganized the administrative structure. Below the Auxiliary King Marquis were established positions including Commandants, Left and Right Generals, Cavalry Commanders, and Eastern, Western, Southern, and Northern Chieftains — a full array of official posts. Every civil and military official appointed was carefully selected, and without exception each was a person whose loyalty lay with the Li Dynasty.

In truth, Li Xuandu had already been putting this series of measures in place before the prince arrived. The prince’s arrival was merely a formality — yet even as a formality, the complexity of the many affairs still took seven or eight days before everything was in proper order.

Once matters had all settled into their proper course, it was time for him to move on. Han Rongchang, barely a few days into his role as Auxiliary King Marquis, immediately invented a reason to say he also needed to go to the Protectorate’s side.

The Baole king was crestfallen on hearing this.

Though the Protectorate’s new seat, Shuang Clan City, was not terribly far from Yan City — a day’s ride on horseback — he was afraid Han Rongchang, once gone, would not return. He was also worried about the absence of Protectorate soldiers garrisoned in Yan City: if something happened one day and he could not control it himself, help from afar would be of no use in an immediate crisis.

Seeing that Han Rongchang was truly unwilling to stay, Li Xuandu dispatched Zhang Shishan with two hundred men to be stationed in the city. Only then did the Baole king feel somewhat reassured. He saw Li Xuandu off with great ceremony, extending repeated invitations: “If Your Highness and the Princess Consort should have occasion to spare the time, I hope you will come often to Yan City. The royal palace will always have its doors open wide for Your Highness and the Princess Consort.”

The Baole king’s words put Li Xuandu in mind of that day when he had brought her to the royal palace — the two of them alone in those vast, empty halls from morning to night, a whole glorious day just to themselves.

Such a fine thing — he wondered when next they would have occasion to relive it.

He smiled, gave the Baole king a nod, and rode out of the city.

Han Rongchang immediately spurred his horse to catch up and asked: “Your Highness — is the next step to deal with the Dongdi Grand Commandant?”

Having taken Baole Kingdom, accepted the Shuang Clan chieftess’s invitation, and moved the Protectorate’s seat to Shuang Clan City — while keeping Wulei for continued cultivation of the fields — with all of this accomplished in sequence, the reputation of Western Regions Protector Li Xuandu had grown greatly. The many small kingdoms along the Central Road that had previously been watching and waiting made up their minds without further hesitation. In the days just past, they had come one after another to submit, competing to send their princes as hostages to the capital.

Outwardly the Protectorate looked glorious, but inwardly Li Xuandu had not allowed himself to relax for even half a moment.

Just as Han Rongchang had said, the next thing to address would be the Dongdi Grand Commandant Hu Hu — though not because Li Xuandu was eager for an immediate fight. He would have preferred to wait until his forces grew stronger and plan the matter gradually over time. But the other side was unlikely to give him much more time.

Taking Baole Kingdom and controlling the Central Road was only a beginning. The Grand Commandant’s headquarters, stationed on the Northern Road, was his true and formidable adversary.

Once the other side was ready to attack, Hu Hu and his more than ten thousand elite cavalry would be an exceedingly difficult enemy to face. And the reason Hu Hu had not yet launched his attack, as Li Xuandu estimated, was probably wariness of his political rival, the King of Kunling. Once the two sides reached a compromise between themselves, fighting would inevitably begin.

But on his own side, the troops capable of genuine combat were, beyond the five hundred soldiers he had brought out of the passes at the very start, limited to the forces from the Shuang Clan and Khotan. Though all were brave fighters equipped with bows, blades, armor, and spears, his cavalry numbers were insufficient. A head-on confrontation with Hu Hu’s elite force would likely be a struggle.

Li Xuandu explained his concerns to Han Rongchang.

Han Rongchang listened and nodded: “Your Highness’s concerns are entirely valid. Against a powerful enemy, avoiding their strongest point and striking unexpectedly is always the superior strategy. Does Your Highness have a plan for defeating them yet?”

Li Xuandu replied: “Not yet. Let us discuss it when we return!”

He and Han Rongchang’s party arrived back at Shuang Clan City as evening fell.

The chieftess had given the city and the stronghold over entirely. On the same day her steward had come to speak with him and Pu Zhu, she herself had moved to a vineyard estate several dozen li from Shuang Clan City. Li Xuandu and Pu Zhu had gone to the estate to invite her back, but she refused to see them, only sending word through a messenger that he should not go back on his promise: when the Western Regions were pacified and the stronghold was no longer needed, it would not be too late for her to take it back. The two of them had been deeply moved at the time. They bowed their thanks at the closed gate, and so as not to disappoint her expectations, they relocated the seat of governance there.

After entering the city, Han Rongchang and the others went to rest at the camp located beside the stronghold. Li Xuandu went directly into the stronghold, passing through the labyrinth to reach the rear section.

Having made this trip to Yan City — seven or eight days without seeing her — he had been missing her considerably. He had been looking forward to her delight at suddenly seeing him return, but on entering the rooms, she was nowhere to be found. He asked Nanny Wang, and learned that soldiers had held a polo match today and invited the Princess Consort to serve as referee; she had not yet come back.

Polo was popular not only in the capital but was also widespread throughout the Western Regions. Since arriving here, Li Xuandu had actively encouraged polo training among the troops to improve their horsemanship.

Even back when they were at Wulei, he had sometimes heard in passing that she occasionally joined the soldiers on the field to play. He had been too busy then to pay it much mind. But now, hearing she had gone to the polo field again, he paused. He glanced at the sky, frowned slightly, turned, and walked out with long strides to go and find the polo field at once.