From ahead came the sound of the city gate opening.

The imperial envoy had finally returned, his attendant following closely behind holding an umbrella to shield him from the rain. His face was dark with displeasure — evidently the negotiation had succeeded, but the process had clearly not been pleasant.

He carefully stepped around the mud and puddles on the road, and at last made it back to the front of the carriage. He frowned and looked down at his boots, already splattered with mud, and muttered a low curse about people exploiting their connections to bully others. He then ordered everyone to prepare to enter the city, stepped onto the small footstool set on the ground, and was about to climb back into his carriage when he suddenly noticed Jiang Yi standing in the rain nearby. He stopped in his tracks.

Jiang Yi had been banished from the capital and demoted to the border commandery horse farms six or seven years ago.

Six or seven years — not too long, not too short either. Young soldiers who had just joined the Southern Command in the past two years, including this group of guards at Yongle Gate, would of course all have heard of former Southern Command General Jiang Yi. But if the man himself stood before them, they would not necessarily recognize him.

This imperial envoy was different.

He had been moving through the imperial palace for over a decade. How could he not have seen Jiang Yi when the man’s fame was at its height? To suddenly find him appearing here — though his clothing was no different from that of a commoner, his face weathered by wind and frost, his temples already prematurely white — the envoy still recognized him at once. He was utterly shocked, and for a moment forgot himself entirely. His foot caught on something, and before the people behind him could reach out to steady him, there was a cry of “Aiyou!” followed by a loud smack, and he toppled to the ground, instantly covered from head to toe in muddy water — a truly wretched sight.

His attendants rushed to help him up, but the imperial envoy remained sitting on the muddy ground, exclaiming in astonishment: “Great General? When did you return to the capital! And I wasn’t even informed — surely you’re not treating me as a stranger? I am Song Changsheng! Back when the Great General returned in triumph and the late Emperor bestowed rewards, I was the one who followed along to deliver them!”

Jiang Yi had a faint recollection of this eunuch and gave him a nod. He was about to open his mouth to correct the title being used to address him when one of his deputies behind him, unable to restrain himself any longer, called out loudly to the guards ahead who were opening the city gate: “We’ve been waiting this long already! Is there any news of when the people from the Grand Stable will arrive, or not?”

The guards of the capital’s gates — how would they spare any regard for these few dusty soldiers who had ridden all the way from a border commandery? They jeered back: “You call this long? Let me tell you, the people who came two days ago from Jiaodong Commandery bearing tribute gifts waited a whole night — they didn’t get in until daybreak! If you can’t wait, then don’t — go back the way you came!”

The deputy had a fiery temper. If he hadn’t been afraid of causing trouble for Jiang Yi, he would have charged straight over for a fight right then and there. The guards on the other side refused to let it go — seeing him glaring, they goaded him further: “What’s the matter, you not convinced? Then come on! You won’t come? Then you’re a woman!” They burst out laughing.

In the early years when the Southern Command answered to Jiang Yi, discipline from top to bottom had been strict. How could scenes like this ever have occurred?

The imperial envoy Song Changsheng had watched with his own eyes as the Twelve Guards of the Southern Command grew increasingly arrogant and bullying over these past two years. He glanced at Jiang Yi, sighed, and muttered another low curse about people exploiting their connections to bully others. He allowed himself to be helped up from the ground, and wiped the mud from his body in a sorry state.

Jiang Yi had already walked back. He pressed down on his deputy’s shoulder and shook his head at him, then turned to look at the city gate and pondered for a moment before saying: “It’s dark now, and the rain doesn’t look like it’ll let up anytime soon. The people probably won’t come this quickly. I’ll stay here and wait a while longer. You all take the horses back to the postal station and wait for my word!”

“I’ll be the one to stay and wait!”

“Let me stay!”

Though every one of them had been soaked through like a drowned rat, they all spoke up at once, each one competing to be the one to remain.

Jiang Yi said: “You don’t know the people from the Grand Stable, nor do you know their procedures. Better not to invite trouble. I’ll stay and wait — the rest of you head back first!”

“If the Stable Supervisor doesn’t leave, then we stay too!”

Everyone spoke in unison, loudly declaring as much.

“Who’s making all this noise? Do you think this is some open marketplace?”

Suddenly, at this moment, a sharp reprimand rang out from inside the city gate.

That voice…

Even if Pu Zhu were to die ten more times and come back to life, she would never forget it.

It was the very wretch from her previous life who had later conspired with Princess Imperial Shang Yang, plotted treason, forced Li Chengyu to his death, and caused Pu Zhu herself to fall from her horse and break her neck!

Sitting inside the carriage, Pu Zhu’s gaze filled with loathing as she peered through the gap in the carriage door at the figure that appeared ahead.

Shen Yang had a high nose and deep-set eyes, a gaunt face, and a complexion that carried a sickly, almost pathological pallor. At this moment his expression was dark and brooding. He wore no rain cape, only a rain hat on his head. He held a riding crop in his hand, and had reined in his horse just inside the city gate, fixing his gaze on the group of men and horses outside.

With the Grand Empress Dowager’s birthday approaching, Shen Yang had recently been personally patrolling the city gates with some frequency. The Gate Commander of the western gate, seeing him arrive, rushed to his horse and reported: “General, the ones outside are from a border commandery horse farm. They claim to be delivering tribute horses. The people from the Grand Stable haven’t come yet, and they’ve been making a commotion arguing with our men. Didn’t mean to disturb the General — I’ll have them driven off right away!”

Having finished his report, the Gate Commander turned around and shouted at his men to go and drive the group away.

Shen Yang looked out at the figure standing in the curtain of rain and hesitated.

“Wait! Which horse farm are they from?”

“They say the Upper Commandery Horse Farm.”

Shen Yang looked again, then suddenly swung down from his horse, his boots landing in the mud, and strode quickly over. His face broke into a look of delight: “Why, it’s Great General Jiang! When did the General arrive in the capital? Why didn’t you send someone to let me know — surely you’re not treating me as an outsider?”

Jiang Yi looked at the approaching Shen Yang — his former subordinate deputy commander — and gave a slight smile: “General Shen, no need for such ceremony. Jiang Yi is no longer a great general. I’m only a Stable Supervisor now. This time, on account of the Grand Empress Dowager’s birthday, I received orders from above to escort prized horses to the capital. These two horses are precious — I look after them myself under ordinary circumstances — and the journey is long. I was afraid something might go wrong along the way, so I brought them myself. Wanted to set my mind at ease.”

Shen Yang glanced at the horses behind him, then turned his face, his expression darkening again as he bellowed at his subordinates: “What kind of job are you doing? How dare you even block Great General Jiang? Why weren’t you letting him in?”

The Gate Commander and the guards behind him were already dumbfounded.

The year Jiang Yi was convicted and imprisoned, all of his original senior loyal subordinates within the Twelve Guards of the Southern Command had been purged. This group of western gate soldiers happened to be new recruits from the past two years. They had only heard Jiang Yi’s name, not known his face, so when Jiang Yi’s party had arrived earlier, they had no idea who he was and had treated him as an ordinary border commandery stable supervisor.

Now, seeing Shen Yang in such a fury, the Gate Commander hastily tried to explain: “Recently there have been people arriving every day from various regions claiming to be delivering birthday gifts and tribute goods. They didn’t even mention the General’s name. We have limited personnel here and couldn’t attend to everyone properly. Besides, according to regulations, horses are not permitted directly into the city…”

Before he could finish, there was a sharp crack — Shen Yang brought his riding crop down hard across the Gate Commander’s face, leaving a bloody welt.

“You dare to argue back!”

The crop fell like rain, striking again and again at the Gate Commander’s head and face.

The Gate Commander, in pain, dared not say another word. Covering his face, he hurriedly dropped to his knees, knocking his head on the ground and begging for mercy.

Jiang Yi said: “Rules have been set and should be enforced. I don’t mind waiting. It would have been better to come during the day — this hour is indeed inconvenient. Could you trouble someone to go and ask the Grand Stable Steward when they can come to receive the horses? If it’s inconvenient now, I can come back tomorrow.”

Only then did Shen Yang relent. He ordered the Gate Commander to immediately send someone to hurry them along, then turned back to Jiang Yi with a look of apology: “In that case, I must trouble the Stable Supervisor to endure this a little longer. You’re really not going inside the city to rest?”

Jiang Yi gave a faint smile: “Staying at Bianqiao postal station will do just fine. No need to go in.”

Bianqiao was a bridge that had to be crossed when entering the capital from the western direction. Nearby was a farewell pavilion and a postal station, roughly fifty or sixty li from where they now stood.

“In that case, I won’t press further. My apologies for the Stable Supervisor’s trouble. Please wait just a moment longer — I have other business to attend to and must take my leave. It’s rare for you to make a trip to the capital; do stay a few more days. If there’s anything you need help with, just say the word!”

Shen Yang chuckled and made his farewells to Jiang Yi with a bow, then turned and went back inside.

The imperial envoy Song Changsheng watched him finish speaking and pass by on the return, then looked at Song Changsheng’s mud-splattered body and said with a casual smile: “This rainy weather is truly tiresome. Just now they insisted I personally come to be inspected — my attendants apparently wouldn’t do — so I had to go myself. On the way back I wasn’t careful and slipped and fell. Must have given General Shen a laugh.”

This comment, listened to closely, carried a veiled dig. Shen Yang fixed him with a look, then glanced over at the carriage with its windows and doors tightly shut, and said mildly: “Is the one inside the carriage the Pu family granddaughter you’ve been escorting?”

The imperial envoy nodded: “Indeed. All the way from He Xi to here, she traveled through stars and rain, journeying day and night without a single complaint about being tired. She did it all to be here in time for the Grand Empress Dowager’s birthday celebration. The young lady’s filial devotion is truly admirable.”

Shen Yang showed little interest, glanced once more at the carriage with its tightly closed doors and windows, and rode straight inside.

Pu Zhu’s carriage followed the imperial envoy through the city gate, heading toward the postal station where they would spend the night.

Behind them, the city gate slowly closed after the carriage had passed through.

Pu Zhu couldn’t help leaning her head out of the carriage window to look back one more time.

That tall, upright figure still stood waiting by the roadside, distant and motionless, like a stone statue in the curtain of rain.

By the time they entered the city after all that commotion at the gate, the sky had gone completely dark. Because of the heavy rain, almost no one could be seen on the streets, yet both sides of the road were ablaze with the lights of ten thousand homes. In the distance, the tall and magnificent Lantai tower had already been hung in advance with red lanterns, one after another, in honor of Jiang Shi’s birthday.

Deep night, damp rain, the glow of the lanterns dissolving into the darkness of the rainy evening — the lights flickered, casting everything in a dreamlike haze.

Pu Zhu’s lodgings were in Chongye Ward, close to the imperial palace — the largest and finest postal station in the capital, which ordinarily received high-ranking regional officials entering the capital, or foreign princes and envoys. The imperial envoy Song Changsheng had suffered a grievance at Shen Yang’s hands outside the city gate that he could be angry about but not speak of aloud. Here, however, things were naturally different — he was treated as an honored guest, the postal station master obeying his every command.

Pu Zhu was arranged in a small courtyard in the rear compound. Though enclosed by walls and not large, it had been swept clean and tidy, and all the necessary furnishings and utensils inside the room were complete and in order. Ju A’mu shared the lodgings with her, sleeping in a side room next door.

After settling in the young lady of the Pu Family, the imperial envoy instructed her to rest well, said he was going into the palace to report back on his mission, and told her that tomorrow a palace female official would come to instruct her in proper etiquette. Once she had learned what was needed, she should wait patiently for His Majesty the Emperor to summon her into the palace when he had time, so she could receive the imperial bestowal of grace.

Before he left, Ju A’mu escorted him out. Taking advantage of a moment when no one else was around, she passed him a small pouch as a token of thanks for his care and attention throughout the journey. The imperial envoy waved it off, and said with a solemn expression: “Lord Pu’s loyalty and righteousness move Heaven and Earth. It is my honor to have been entrusted with the imperial mission to escort the young lady to the capital.” With that, he departed in haste.

After Pu Zhu had bathed, her whole body relaxed, and combined with the genuine exhaustion of the road, she lay down, thought for a while about the unexpected encounter of that day, and fell asleep quickly. She slept through the night until dawn, rose early the next morning, and waited for the female official to come and instruct her in court etiquette.