The northwest was bitterly cold. At the beginning of winter, the area around Duck Slope had nothing but sand hills and white snow.

On this day, the wind was strong, blowing so hard people could barely stand. Several soldiers who had gone to scout returned to the slope entrance and said to the large man standing guard there: “Uncle Hao, we’ve carefully checked the western side path. We didn’t see any trace of the Chili deserters.”

This man called “Uncle Hao” had a bristling beard and white eyebrows. Though clearly approaching sixty years of age, he was tall and robust with vigorous spirit.

He counted the number of people. Seeing that all the waves of soldiers sent out to scout had returned, he said: “Let’s go back and report to Commander Nan.”

Commander Nan’s name was Nan Ting. After arriving in the northwest at the end of April, he was personally selected by General-in-Chief Left Qian to be the commander of their unit.

Originally, several veterans in the unit were dissatisfied and sought to duel with Nan Ting. Who knew that even when several people attacked together, within seven moves they were beaten until they begged for mercy. At the end of June, when the Chili barbarians launched a surprise attack, whether by chance or not, Nan Ting casually predicted the timing correctly. From then on, no one in their unit dared to disobey Nan Ting.

The group returned to the back mountain of Duck Slope. The Commander waiting there wore a black velvet cloak. Perhaps because it was too cold, his handsome features showed traces of wind and frost. Though clearly approaching thirty years of age, his eyes were not turbid like those of ordinary people—black was black, white was white. Looking closely, his pupils were so bright they could reflect mountains, rivers, sun, and moon. He was extraordinarily handsome.

Uncle Hao had never seen such a person in his entire life. Drawing closer, even his tone became more respectful: “Commander, the scouts have all returned. They found no trace of Chili deserters.”

Zhu Nanxian was looking at a map of Duck Slope. Hearing Uncle Hao’s words, he rolled up the map and put it away, dismounted from his horse in one smooth motion, and with a vigorous step climbed to the top of a nearby earthen slope to look into the distance.

This morning, scouts had clearly reported seeing Chili deserters at Duck Slope. How could they have disappeared in just half a day? Further in was a glacier canyon—there should be no way forward according to reason.

The mountain road ahead divided into several paths. On both sides, aside from sand, there was snow. One path was extremely narrow and long, with especially thick snow on both sides.

Zhu Nanxian stared at this path. His mind suddenly stirred, and he ordered: “Bring the mastiffs.”

The two mastiffs had thick, snow-white fur and were massive in size. When they stood up, they were as tall as a person.

Zhu Nanxian led them to the entrance of that narrow path and let them sniff a piece of bloodied clothing. He bent down to rub their heads and said gently: “Go.”

The white mastiffs led the way, exploring as they walked. Zhu Nanxian led his soldiers, silently following behind.

After walking for a short while, the two mastiffs suddenly began to wander, as if they had lost direction, emitting low whining sounds.

Uncle Hao asked: “Commander Nan, can they no longer smell the blood scent of the Chili barbarians?”

Zhu Nanxian looked around. The terrain here was sunken, with snow piles on both sides several people high. Strange that everywhere else at Duck Slope was half snow and half sand, but here the sand was all buried by snow.

“Quite the opposite,” Zhu Nanxian said. “The blood scent is strongest here.”

Strongest blood scent?

But they couldn’t see a single Chili soldier anywhere around.

Although the group didn’t understand, hearing these words, they all held their breath in concentration.

“Bring fire arrows.”

The fire arrows used for winter combat in the northwest had specially prepared oil wrapped in cloth that wouldn’t be extinguished by snow.

Zhu Nanxian drew his bow like a full moon. In the silent mountain path, only the sound of wind breaking could be heard—”whoosh.” The fire arrow shot out like a rainbow piercing the sun. With a “thud” as it struck the snow pile, the snow on both sides of the mountain path began to fall away, and one after another, Chili deserters hidden in the snow stood up, eyes bloodshot, making a final desperate struggle.

“Kill—”

Although there were many Chili deserters ambushed at Duck Slope, they had been pursued for days and were already at the end of their strength. Within half a day, they were all annihilated by the pursuing troops led by Zhu Nanxian.

After the beginning of winter, the first battle between Great Sui and Chili was a great victory. By nighttime, bonfires were lit in the military camp, cattle and sheep were slaughtered, and dozens of jars of strong liquor were opened to reward the meritorious soldiers.

Zhu Nanxian and his group sat around the fire. Those who couldn’t resist their cravings were already drooling at the sight of the lamb legs sizzling with oil over the bonfire.

Beside him, a soldier called “Little Shanzi” wiped away his drool and asked: “Commander Nan, do you think that now we’ve won this battle, the Chili will quiet down for a year or two?”

Zhu Nanxian saw that the roasted lamb legs were done. He took the dagger from his waist and skillfully cut them into several portions, called people over to distribute them, and took two pieces himself, handing one to Little Shanzi: “Hard to say. Right now it’s winter. No matter how we fight, it’s all probing. Today doesn’t count as a win either—we can only say we repelled them. They probably won’t dare cause trouble this winter. Come spring, they’ll likely reorganize and return.”

Hearing these words, Little Shanzi heaved a heavy sigh. Even the lamb leg meat in his hand, which had made him drool just moments ago, seemed to lose its flavor.

Uncle Hao, seeing him like this, teased: “What’s this—is Little Shanzi missing his wife at home?”

When these words came out, several soldiers nearby all laughed along.

Little Shanzi was only nineteen years old and had come to the northwest less than half a year after getting married. Hearing this, his ears turned red enough to bleed as he shouted in defense: “What’s wrong with missing my wife? After finally marrying a wife, who wouldn’t miss her? If you don’t believe me, ask Commander Nan—ask him if he misses his own wife!”

Hearing him say this, everyone’s gazes turned in unison toward Zhu Nanxian.

Zhu Nanxian was still dividing the lamb leg meat. His hand movements paused. He glanced at Little Shanzi. The bonfire bloomed like a star flower in his eyes. He nodded slightly: “I miss her.”

Another soldier teased: “You miss your wife and drag Commander Nan into it for what? I think you, at your young age—want to take off your pants and sleep holding your wife!”

Little Shanzi’s face instantly turned red as if burned by blood: “You, you—Commander Nan, please judge—isn’t what he’s saying embarrassing!”

The soldier replied matter-of-factly: “We’re all men. Who doesn’t know who? What’s there to be embarrassed about!”

Zhu Nanxian couldn’t hold back and laughed heartily along with the group.

While they were talking here, a vice general-looking person walked over. Everyone looked and saw it was actually Vice General Li, who often stayed by General Left’s side. They hurriedly tried to stand and perform salutes. Vice General Li raised his hand and pressed down, indicating the formalities could be omitted, then said to Zhu Nanxian: “Nan Ting, General Left is calling you over.”

Zhu Nanxian shoved the dagger for cutting lamb into Little Shanzi’s hand, patted his shoulder, stood up, and followed Vice General Li toward the military tent.

Upon entering the tent, Vice General Li, who had been somewhat casual before, stepped behind Left Qian and Mao Zuofeng, and together with them, performed a respectful salute to Zhu Nanxian—earlier in front of the soldiers, to avoid exposing His Majesty Jin’an’s identity, he hadn’t dared show a deferential attitude toward him.

Zhu Nanxian took off his fur cloak and set it aside, revealing the sky-blue robe underneath: “What is it? Important business?”

The military tent had connecting sections. A curtain divided it into inner and outer rooms.

Left Qian glanced at the curtain: “Someone has come from the capital, saying they wish to see Your Majesty.”

As soon as these words fell, the curtain was lifted. Que Wu walked out and performed a salute to Zhu Nanxian: “Your Majesty Jin’an.”

He had a blade at his waist, and his back seemed to carry another weapon, wrapped in black cloth so one couldn’t clearly see what it was.

Zhu Nanxian’s expression grew somber. He didn’t respond but walked to a table and sat down, moving aside the wine jar in front of him before asking: “Zhu Yushen sent you?”

When these words came out, both Left Qian and Mao Zuofeng became alert.

Zhu Nanxian glanced at the two of them and said: “You two go out. I’ll speak with him alone.”

Mao Zuofeng became anxious: “But—”

These people were all military commanders by origin. In earlier years, there had been frequent transfers between garrison posts, and they all knew each other’s abilities very clearly. Que Wu’s martial arts were extremely high, with almost no match in the military.

Left Qian held Mao Zuofeng back and cupped his hands: “Then this subordinate and Maozi will wait outside the military tent. If Your Majesty has any orders, just call out.”

The implication was that if Que Wu dared to make a move against Zhu Nanxian, they were all trained in martial arts—could so many of them not handle one person? Did he not see whose territory this was?

Zhu Nanxian nodded slightly. After Left Qian and the other withdrew, he said: “Speak.”

Que Wu said: “His Majesty sent this subordinate to the northwest to tell Your Majesty Jin’an the truth about a past matter.”

“Why I was able to escape from the great fire at Minghua Palace?” Zhu Nanxian looked at the wine cup on the table, not even lifting his eyelids. “Or rather, why did Liu Yun, or Zhu Yushen, spare my life?”

“Yes.” Que Wu nodded. “In the third year of Jin’an, Your Majesty was originally in the northwest. The reason you returned to the capital alone was because you learned that Lord Su was under house arrest at the Liu residence, her life in danger. Your Majesty, do you know why Lord Su was imprisoned in Lord Liu’s residence?”

Zhu Nanxian remained silent.

The reunion with Su Jin had been too hasty, and she seemed unwilling to mention past events, so he hadn’t asked.

“The reason Lord Su went to the Liu residence was to return a jade pendant,” Que Wu said.

“The jade pendant was given to Lord Su by Lord Liu’s father, Old Master Liu. When presenting it, he only said that the Liu and Xie families were long-time friends, treating it as a gift from an elder to a younger generation. But in reality, the jade pendants were a pair, with the other one in Lord Liu’s possession. In other words, according to custom, the jade pendant Old Master Liu gave to Lord Su should actually have been given to Lord Liu’s wedded wife.”