“There is none left.” But Jiuwei spread his hands helplessly. “I only made one bowl.”

“Make more.” Xiyun said, almost pleadingly.

“No.” Jiuwei waved his hand and looked at her. It seemed that only this one trait — her fondness for food — could draw an equal sign between the person before him and the Bai Fengxi of former days. “You know my rule. I never make the same thing twice.”

“I am the exception!” She said it with such natural conviction it bordered on shamelessness.

“You are the exception?” Jiuwei raised an eyebrow, then gave a faint smile. He raised his hand and pointed at the still-slightly-furrowed space between Xiyun’s brows. “Then tell me what that is about — because then I will also make an exception.”

Hearing this, Xiyun curved her lips into a smile. She set down the porridge bowl, and her gaze drifted to the ink orchid on the table. After a moment she said, “Jiuwei, do you know what the best method is to make two nations merge into one?”

“Hmm? To merge two nations into one?” Jiuwei’s brows drew together slightly at this, and then he said, “An alliance?”

Xiyun smiled and shook her head. “Let me put it differently — to make two people merge into one. Do you know what method that is?”

Hearing this, Jiuwei’s eyes went wide involuntarily. He seemed to half-guess the answer, yet seemed unwilling to believe it.

“Marriage.” Xiyun answered her own question, rising to her feet and picking up the ink orchid, holding it out before Jiuwei. “Husband and wife are of one body. And the simplest and best way to make two nations completely merge into one, with no distinction between them, is for the rulers of the two nations to become husband and wife.”

“Is this why you are unhappy?” Jiuwei watched Xiyun, not missing the faint bewilderment that had passed through her eyes when she spoke of husband and wife.

“Unhappy?” Xiyun smiled again — a smile that faded before it reached her eyes. She toyed with the ink orchid between her fingertips and said quietly, “Actually, I had anticipated this long ago. I only did not expect him to truly do it. I thought… he would at least hold back a little — our final… but it is a pity that he still took this step.”

“And what have you decided?” Jiuwei’s brows drew together, as though strongly opposed.

“Me?…” Xiyun walked to the window, looked at the ink orchid in her palm, then extended her hand and blew lightly. The ink orchid sailed out through the window, drifting into the air. “Naturally I am going to accept.” The words were spoken, yet her expression was so helpless and sorrowful, her gaze following that ink orchid with a look of longing — as though she had cast away something precious with her own hands, with that kind of deep reluctance and yet absolute finality.

“You truly intend to marry him?” Jiuwei came to her side and turned her around to face him. “Xi’er, you cannot agree. Ten years of friendship… is so much more than this. If you agree to this, what lies between you will have come to its end. That way… that way both of you will carry regret for the rest of your lives.”

“Jiuwei…” Xiyun patted Jiuwei’s hand and shook her head. She smiled — a smile as light as clouds and as clear as wind, yet also empty and without feeling. “Perhaps this is fate, destined from the very moment we first met. All these years… is it not enough? And yet we have never been able to draw close. Even at our closest there has always been a layer between us. He cannot, and I cannot either.”

“Must it truly be this way?” Jiuwei released her, seeming unable to bear it yet also powerless to change anything.

“The course of events has already led here.” Xiyun still smiled, yet the smile was so desolate. Her gaze passed through the clusters of white chrysanthemums. “Moreover, this truly is a good method… A king is the symbol of a nation, the direction to which a nation’s people’s hearts turn. When the rulers of two nations become husband and wife, the two nations can naturally and seamlessly merge into one. Only in this way… can the strength of both nations truly be consolidated, and then…”

“But…” Jiuwei looked at Xiyun with deep concern. Those eyes of his, harboring a spiritual penetrating quality, seemed capable of crossing through time to see through all that lay ahead. “What about you? For the sake of this realm under heaven — is this to be your whole life? Is this truly the only way for you and him?”

“Him and I…” In that moment Xiyun seemed dazed, her gaze drifting vaguely into the distance as though looking upon a story from long ago. “Ten years of friendship has somehow brought us to this point. I did not want it either… but neither he nor I has any way out.”

“If I were only Bai Fengxi, I would have dragged that person along with me that day on the mountain peak, and never mind what realm, never mind what grand ambition… never mind whether he is Feng Xi or Lanxi, never mind how many twists and turns lie within him… I would only be the carefree, willful Fengxi I am, dragging that kindred soul of the mortal world to laugh freely among the mountains and forests, treading through the mists and glow of the five great lakes… But… I am still Xiyun of Feng Guo.” Xiyun looked out the window with a quiet, wistful expression. “The most important part of my life is still Xiyun of Feng Guo. A person’s life is not lived only for ideals or for sentiment — even more than that, it is lived for responsibility and duty.” Her gaze turned to Jiuwei. “Are you not the same?”

Jiuwei was at a loss for words. After a long silence he let out a deep sigh. “Every day I will make you delicious food. I will make sure you are healthy and live to a hundred.”

By the middle of the twelfth month, the Queen finally concluded her inspection tour and returned to the Feng capital, carrying with her the wholehearted love and admiration of all of Feng Guo’s people.

“There is clearly sunshine — why is it still this cold?!”

Before Yusheng Palace, Jiuwei stood holding his food box, looking up at the sun hanging high in the sky and muttering complaints, while at the same time hugging the food box to his chest and covering it with his sleeve to keep it from going cold.

“What is all this?” Pushing open the door of the study, he saw at once that Xiyun was sitting before a table covered in a pile of objects, staring at them with a dazed expression.

“Jiuwei.” Xiyun looked up at him briefly and smiled faintly, then let her gaze fall back to the table. “These are all very precious things.”

“Oh?” Jiuwei set the food box on the table and swept his gaze across the objects — though they were by no means valuable in appearance. Objects of copper and iron, of wood and silk, cast or carved, painted or inscribed — a miscellaneous array of unusual shapes and patterns covered the table in a dense spread. Yet compared to the gold and jade treasures that could be found everywhere in the palace, these were truly nothing more than worn old bits of copper and iron.

“All of these are things given to Bai Fengxi by friends from the martial world.” Xiyun reached out and picked up a bronze medallion, upon which was carved a single long fang. “This bronze fang medallion was given to me by the head of the Qi Family when I once rescued their Third Young Master.”

“The Qi Third Young Master of legend — the one who never grows up, who never grows old? That is the Qi Family’s most prized treasure!” Jiuwei tucked his hands into his sleeves and accepted the medallion through the thick layers of fabric. “Everything from their family carries an eerie, ghostly chill — ordinary people cannot touch their things. Hmm? This is the Family Head’s long fang. With this fang medallion, the entire yin-yang Qi Family is yours to command. Remarkable.”

“The people of the Qi Family are cold in nature, but they understand gratitude and honor their word better than anyone.” Xiyun said quietly.

“Ugh… far too cold. Giving it back.” Jiuwei’s hand gave a shudder, and he hastily returned the bronze fang medallion to Xiyun. “Their people are cold, and everything that comes from their family is cold too! Take this bronze fang — it is colder than the ice of the twelfth month!”

“Is it really that extreme?” Xiyun looked at Jiuwei with amusement as he kept rubbing his hands together.

“I am nothing like you — you have inner energy to protect your body.” Jiuwei glanced at Xiyun’s light, simple garments, then looked at his own heavily padded layers. “Had I known, I ought to have taken up martial training too — then I could at least be spared from the agony of sweltering summers and bitter winters.”

“Ha…” Xiyun gave a light laugh. “Do you think martial training is easy?”

“I know it is not easy.” Jiuwei nodded, while reaching into the food box and bringing out a bowl of steaming noodles. “That is precisely why I did not learn. Cooking is much easier. Come eat quickly, or it will go cold.”

“Is there only noodles today?” Xiyun shifted over to sit.

“These noodles took a great deal of my time.” Jiuwei sat down across from Xiyun and began handling the objects on the table. “Try them first.”

“Mm… so fragrant, and so smooth!” Xiyun could not help but exclaim at the very first bite. “This broth seems to be a bone broth, but richer and more fragrant than ordinary bone broth. What did you use to make it?”

“This broth should rightly be called bone marrow broth. I simmered small spare ribs for three full hours to get this single bowl, then added a small amount of bird’s nest and minced dried mushrooms and let it simmer together — that is roughly how the flavor comes together. It is a pity it is winter now. In summer, simmering spare ribs with lotus root to make a noodle soup would be even more fragrant and sweet.” Jiuwei continued turning over the objects on the table as he spoke. “The Iron Flying Swallow from the Yi Family of Xizhou, the Wooden Peach Blossom of great hero Nan Zhao of Peach Fall, the Plum Blossom Rain of heroine Mei Xinyu, the Heaven’s Book Token of the scholar Fang Yan of the Four Directions… these things that look worthless are in fact priceless and impossible to obtain even with a city’s worth of gold. What are you bringing these out for?”

Xiyun swallowed the last mouthful of broth and then pushed the bowl aside, propping her chin on the table and looking at those tokens of trust spread before her. “Because I need to use them.”

Hearing this, the hand that Jiuwei had been turning the tokens with paused involuntarily. His gaze fixed on Xiyun. After a moment he spoke: “You intend to have them help you seize the realm? With their prestige in the martial world, they could certainly gather no small number of capable people for you.”

“No.” Xiyun shook her head, reaching out to pick up the wooden peach blossom. “I would not drag them onto that battlefield. Only… you have also seen that since I took the throne, I have dismissed many old ministers and appointed new ones who were previously unknown and of no standing. Those people naturally could not submit willingly — they harbor resentment.”

“You want to use these martial figures to keep them in check?” Jiuwei picked up the iron flying swallow, running a finger over the sharp swallow’s beak as he asked.

“I am not afraid of those people harboring resentment toward me.” Xiyun flicked her wrist, and the wooden peach blossom shot out in a straight line, landing with a clear ping squarely in the window frame. “But the way things stand right now, I do not know which day it will be when I must set out on campaign. Those petty and underhanded people are impossible to guard against at every turn.”

“You are worried that after you leave, they will seize the opportunity to make trouble?” Jiuwei swept his gaze across the tokens on the table, as though looking for one that caught his eye.

“I have eliminated so many festering sores precisely so that when I go to war, Feng Guo will be stable and at peace, and I will have no lingering concerns at my back. Furthermore, the new order that has just begun to take shape — I will not allow anyone to come and undermine it.” Xiyun raised her hand, and the white silk ribbon from her sleeve shot out and struck the window frame. The wooden peach blossom embedded in the frame sprang loose and flew straight back — she opened her hand, and the peach blossom settled steadily in her palm. “And so I must have people watching over them, and will absolutely not allow them to act recklessly and disturb my Feng Guo.”

“Those people — it would not be appropriate for me to dispatch official people to watch over them, and even if I were to station palace guards, they might not necessarily be a match for those cunning and treacherous ones. But these martial world masters — with their abilities, they can monitor everything covertly without ever showing themselves. If anyone dares to act recklessly, they will be the ones to deal with it — and when they do, it will be clean and decisive.” Xiyun drew back her hand, and the white silk ribbon flew back into her sleeve — as swift and decisive as her expression and manner were at this moment.

Jiuwei looked at her with a long, appraising gaze. After quite some time he let out a sigh. “Xi’er, you are actually a very capable ruler.”

Hearing this, Xiyun glanced at Jiuwei, then shifted her gaze to the wooden peach blossom in her palm, and smiled faintly. “Very calculating and shrewd in her methods, you mean?”

Jiuwei was speechless. After a moment he said, “Come to think of it, these ten years in the martial world have given you no small return — not only did you come to know intimately the geography and the people of every nation, but your reputation as a great hero spread far and wide, and you came to know a great host of outstanding and formidable individuals. When the day comes that you raise your banner, there will surely be many who follow.”

“Jiuwei, you are unhappy.” Xiyun looked into Jiuwei’s eyes, then lowered her gaze to the pile of tokens on the table. She gave a quiet laugh — but with a note of helplessness in it. “From when I was very small I already knew that I would one day inherit the throne, that I would be Feng Guo’s queen. Because of my brother… when I was five I told my brother that I would be the one to rule someday, so that he could spend his whole life painting and singing… And so how to be a capable ruler — I have been learning since I was small. As for the kingly way, I am not the least bit unfamiliar with it, and every method of it I can deploy with ease. Only…” But in the end the words were swallowed back. Her fingertip toyed absently with the things on the tabletop.

Hearing these words, watching that smile that seemed so entirely unconcerned, Jiuwei suddenly felt a heavy, aching pressure in his chest. Without quite thinking, he stood up, and without quite realizing it, drew Xiyun into his arms. “Xi’er, with your abilities, you are a capable ruler — but by your nature and heart, you are not suited to be the ruler of a nation.”

Xiyun wrapped her arms around Jiuwei’s arm, resting her head against it with fond attachment. In this moment she released every restraint and set down every burden, closing her eyes and resting peacefully within Jiuwei’s embrace. “Jiuwei, you will not leave me the way Brother Xieyue did, will you?”

“I will not.” Jiuwei patted Xiyun’s head with gentle affection, his gaze lingering thoughtfully over the tokens spread across the table. “Did I not promise to be your cook? As long as you are here, I will make meals for you each day.”

Hearing this, Xiyun curved her lips into a faint but genuinely happy smile. “And what about your Luori Pavilion?”

“I gave it away.” Jiuwei said with an easy smile.

“How generous.” Xiyun smiled, then seemed to remember something. She raised her head to look at Jiuwei. “I recall that you once told me you had taken in a singer named Feng Qiwu?”

“Yes — a woman of rare beauty matched with rare talent.” Jiuwei also released his hold and asked, “Why do you suddenly ask?”

“Is she one of those Feng Family people?” Xiyun fixed her gaze on Jiuwei.

Jiuwei started, then gave a slow nod. “Yes.”

“Just as I thought!” Xiyun sprang to her feet, her hand swinging down as though about to strike the table — then, noticing the pile of tokens spread across it, she caught herself, pulling back the force at the last instant. But when her palm landed, all the tokens on the table jumped up; some tumbled to the floor. “That black fox!”

“Is there any need to be this agitated?” Jiuwei looked at her with a shake of his head, stooping to pick up the tokens that had fallen on the ground.

“That black fox — whatever he does, he is absolutely… hmph… that man never does anything without a gain in it for himself!” Xiyun spoke through clenched teeth, her sharp gaze cutting through the air as though trying to pierce through to the person who made her grind her teeth.

Jiuwei raised his head and looked at her with an expression somewhere between amusement and wry contemplation. “He is not here. No matter how fiercely you scold or how sharp your gaze, it will mean nothing to him.”

“What a pity for that beauty Feng.” Xiyun sank back into her chair with an air of dejection, letting out a sigh of lament. “Her feelings for him run so deep. Truly… a woman so clear and transparent as that… how could he be worthy of a heart so sincere?”

“That is also their own affair. What does it have to do with you?” Jiuwei responded with indifference.

Xiyun seemed not to hear. She sat in silence for a long while, and then suddenly raised her head to look steadily at Jiuwei. “Jiuwei, no matter how deep the kingly way runs, I will never use scheming or manipulation against you.”

“I know.” Jiuwei smiled faintly.

“And I will fulfill your wish.” Xiyun added, rising and walking to the window. She pushed it open, and a gust of cold air swept in, making Jiuwei give an involuntary shudder.

“I will fulfill your wish — I swear it on the royal lineage of Feng.”

On the fourteenth day of the second month in the eighteenth year of the Ren reign, the ruler of Feng Guo dispatched his royal brother, the Marquis of Xun’an, as an envoy to Feng Guo, bringing as a gift the “Blood Jade Ink Orchid” — a treasure bestowed by Shi Di upon the first-generation Feng Guo king at his wedding — to formally seek the hand of the Feng Guo Queen Xiyun for the Shizi Lanxi.

On the sixteenth day of the second month, the Feng King Xiyun accepted the proposal of marriage and sent in return the “White Jade Snow Phoenix” — a treasure bestowed by Shi Di upon the first-generation Feng King at his wedding — as a reciprocal gift.

In Dong Chao, the marriage of a man and woman must pass through five rites: the Intent Pact, the Kinship Pact, the Rite Pact, the Harmony Pact, and the Written Pact. At the time of the Written Pact, both parties together set the wedding date, and the wedding would then be held when that date arrived, completing the union.

The Intent Pact is the proposal of marriage.

The Kinship Pact is when each party in turn sends a person — a minister — to the other family to formally present the marriage offer.

The Rite Pact is when both families exchange tokens of betrothal.

The Harmony Pact is when the man and woman choose a place to meet and together compose a piece of music in harmony, to seal the vow of lifelong union.

The Written Pact is when the man and woman, witnessed by elders and family friends — and in the case of imperial and royal families, also by their ministers and people — make a written oath, pledge their union together, and set the wedding date.

Feng Guo and Feng Guo agreed: the ceremony of the Harmony Pact would be held in Feng Guo’s capital of Fengdu, in the fourth month when the orchids bloom.

By the end of the third month, other nations might already be warming into spring — flowers blooming and spring light flowing rich and full — but Feng Guo in the west still retained a somewhat dry and cold temperature.

The moment one stepped into Lanling Palace, a wave of delicate fragrance met the face. Climbing a hundred vermilion steps, winding through nine-turn corridors, then crossing the Orchid-Petal Han Jade Bridge — ahead, Yi Lan Court could already be faintly made out in the distance.

One drew a breath, and a thread of orchid fragrance drifted in like smoke, refreshing the heart and spirit. The orchids of Lanling Palace were always different from those of other places. Their fragrance was always so pure, so faint — winding at the tip of the nose as though present yet not quite — always leaving one unable to pin down the exact quality of that scent. Much like the palace’s master, Young Master Lanxi: standing independent in the wind, elegant and peerless beyond compare, yet one found it impossible to see what lay beyond that refined nobility. The mind and senses were already entirely overawed by the grace and bearing of his outward form.

Ren Chuanyun let his gaze sweep across the orchid pots one by one, thinking privately that he did not know if anywhere else in the world could boast orchids comparable to those of Lanling Palace. Here, orchids could be seen in every season of the year — and with each season they changed: different in form, different in color, different even in fragrance.

He had always puzzled over it — how were these orchids cultivated? That orchids could bloom even in winter was truly a miracle. But when the miracle arose from their Young Master, then it became ordinary enough. He had heard that at the time of the Young Master’s birth, orchids bloomed across the entire nation, and the whole royal palace was enveloped in a cloud of fragrance. One day he should ask the Young Master about this properly — perhaps this detail could be turned into something quite significant.

Arriving before Yi Lan Court, a palace servant standing in attendance pushed the doors open for him. He stepped through the doorway into an entirely different world.

That soul-clearing, lung-cleansing fragrance was like a layer of refined and pristine gauze draped over one’s shoulders, making one feel for an instant as though one were oneself elevated and flawless. Ren Chuanyun gave his customary faint sigh — every time he came through this door, he felt as though all the grime and filth of his body had been washed away by this orchid air, leaving him feeling as though he were once again a clean and decent man. But he was not a decent man. He had told himself long ago that he had no desire to be one of those wretched, hypocritical paragons of virtue. He would rather be a selfish, self-interested scoundrel who lived happily.

Before him lay a sea of flowers. White-as-snow orchid blooms spread in branches and clusters, group upon group, stretching beyond the limit of sight. Within that pristine white sea of flowers stood a young man in ink-black long robes — his features as fine and beautiful as precious jade, his eyes dark as lacquer, his bearing distinguished and handsome. One might almost mistake him for an immortal dwelling among flowers, yet without an immortal’s ethereal otherworldliness — instead carrying an extra measure of noble, cultivated grace, like a lord standing in state upon the clouds.

“Young Master.” Ren Chuanyun bowed with deep and genuine respect.

“Mm.” Lanxi still had his head bowed, attending to a spray of snow orchid, his expression focused and intent — as though it were a cherished beloved he was caring for with devoted, gentle attentiveness.

Ren Chuanyun’s gaze followed the movement of his fingertips. The spray of snow orchid in his hand was still just a single bud, though two or three petals had begun to open loosely around the outside. Lanxi was straightening the stem and arranging the leaves. Beneath those slender, pale, and refined hands, the snow orchid had shed its drooping listlessness within moments and stood graceful and upright.

“How did matters proceed?” Just when Ren Chuanyun had fallen into a reverie watching the Young Master’s movements, Lanxi suddenly spoke.

“Hmm? Oh… everything has been prepared.” Ren Chuanyun came back to himself and answered.

“Is that so.” Lanxi replied mildly, releasing the snow orchid in his hand and raising his eyes to cast a glance at the person standing before him. “All of it?”

“Yes.” Ren Chuanyun bowed his head. “This one has followed the Young Master’s instructions. This occasion will certainly proceed to perfection.” His pronunciation landed with deliberate weight on the words “to perfection.”

“Good.” Lanxi smiled faintly, stepping into the midst of the flowers. “How is Chuanyun managing things on his end?”

“All the ceremonial preparations to receive the Feng King are also in order.” Ren Chuanyun answered, following behind him.

“Mm.” Lanxi’s gaze moved through all the flowers in an unhurried survey. “These snow orchids bloom for one month — the timing is just right.”

“When the Young Master weds, orchids will surely bloom across the entire nation and their fragrance will drift up to the nine heavens!” Ren Chuanyun raised his head to look at his master, respect in his eyes — and also a flicker of what seemed like the satisfied smile of someone whose plan had come to fruition. “For the Young Master is the one and only master of the Nation of Orchids!”

“Is that so?” Hearing this, Lanxi gave a faint smile. His steps suddenly stopped. Before him was something draped in fine silk, roughly one meter tall, shaped somewhat like a pagoda. He looked at it for a long while, then said, “Chuanyun, you have surely never seen this orchid.”

There was something in his voice that seemed, just faintly, like pride — and like joy.

“Hmm?” Hearing this, Ren Chuanyun could not help but feel a measure of curiosity. Yi Lan Court was a place he visited frequently; he could say that nearly every new variety of orchid the Young Master cultivated, he had been among the first to see. As for orchids, this man who had originally known nothing about them whatsoever could now rattle off over a hundred varieties from memory as though listing old friends. Was there truly something he had not yet seen?

He watched as Lanxi gently lifted that layer of fine silk. Beneath the silk was a crystal pagoda — but what made Ren Chuanyun even more astonished was the flower growing within the pagoda.

“Just as I thought… it is nearly about to bloom.” Lanxi’s voice was as gentle as if he feared to startle the flower inside the tower. “What do you think of this ‘Lanyin Biyue’ of mine?”

Ren Chuanyun stared with something close to shock at the crystal pagoda. Growing within it was an orchid — or more precisely, an orchid that was on the very threshold of blooming. But what was most astonishing of all was this: the orchid was growing with two buds joined at the same stem — and moreover, one was black and one was white. Twin buds growing from a single stem was already rare enough, but two buds of entirely different colors was even more extraordinary. Though the flower had not yet opened, the petals could already be dimly discerned — and they seemed to curve like slender crescents of new moon, gleaming in the sunlight with a crystalline, jade-like luster.

“I have been attempting to cultivate this ‘Lanyin Biyue’ for eight years, and I have finally grown a single plant.” Lanxi lifted the top of the crystal pagoda and let his fingertip rest lightly against that white jade-like blossom. He turned back with a smile. “She may be said to have seen all the wonders and marvels of the world — but this ‘Lanyin Biyue’ of mine will surely astonish her beyond measure.”

That smile gave Ren Chuanyun a far greater start than the twin-stemmed orchid itself. Lanyin? Biyue? Ren Chuanyun’s gaze drifted wordlessly across that orchid, then fell to the crescent of ink-dark moon at Lanxi’s brow. A sudden sense of alert rose in his heart.

“This ‘Lanyin Biyue’ is indeed a rarity in the world.” Ren Chuanyun’s voice was respectful and measured. “Only, I have heard it said that atop Changmang Shan there grows a variety called the Azure-Jade Orchid. I imagine it must be the finest thing under heaven.”

“Azure-Jade Orchid?” Lanxi glanced at Ren Chuanyun, a faint, knowing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. His gaze returned to the orchid. “Just hearing the name already tells one it is no common thing. One day, we will see it.”

He stepped away, walking toward the courtyard entrance. The breeze swept the flowers bowing gently in his wake, as though bidding him farewell. He turned to look back once more at the sea of flowers swirling like snow, and said quietly, “On that day, have the Lan covert messengers lend you their strength. Do not let those people… dirty my flowers.”

“Yes!” Ren Chuanyun bowed his head. A sudden loosening came over his heart. The Young Master was still the same Young Master.

At that same moment, in the eastern study of Yusheng Palace in Feng Guo, Xiyun sat upright in the royal seat, gazing quietly at the two ministers standing before her: Grand Steward Feng Jing and Commander of the Palace Guards Xie Su.

“Minister Feng, General Xie.” In the quiet study, Xiyun’s clear and composed voice finally broke the silence.

“This old minister is here!” Feng Jing and Xie Su bowed together in answer.

“I am to set out for Feng Guo before long, and so the great and small affairs of the nation must be entrusted to you two.” Xiyun rose to her feet.

“This is entirely within the duty of your ministers. We will give our utmost and not dare to be remiss!” Feng Jing and Xie Su knelt together to demonstrate their loyalty.

“Please both rise.” Xiyun walked forward and helped the two old ministers up from the floor. “Minister Feng, you are a senior official who has served through three reigns. There is no minister or subject in the nation who does not hold you in the highest regard. Therefore the affairs of state I entrust entirely into your hands — you will need to devote great care to them.”

“This minister will not fail the trust Your Majesty has placed in him!” Feng Jing replied respectfully.

“Mm.” Xiyun gave a slight nod, her gaze passing over this old minister. “Since last year, for all the newly appointed officials, I have instructed them that if anything arises they may seek your counsel. Over all these months, I imagine you have gained a general understanding of their characters and abilities. So when matters arise, simply direct them in what needs to be done. On one hand this trains capable people for the nation; on the other hand it will save you a great deal of effort as well. It is not that I lack confidence in your abilities, but you are a cornerstone of this nation — I cannot afford to lose you. This Feng Guo still depends on you to hold the larger situation in hand.”

These words filled Feng Jing’s heart with warmth. He dropped to his knees. “Please set Your Majesty’s heart at ease. As long as this old minister lives, Feng Guo will be secure!”

“With those words from you, I am at ease.” Xiyun reached out and helped Feng Jing to his feet, smiling warmly. “While I am away, Minister Feng must not overexert himself — please take care of your health. I still hope that this old minister will be able to assist me for the whole of my reign.”

“This minister is grateful for Your Majesty’s concern! This minister understands!”

Feng Jing’s voice was moved and sincere. In this moment, even if she asked him to give his life, he would do so with a willing heart. He had served through three reigns, and the previous two Feng Kings had, to some degree, disappointed him. He had thought he would pass the rest of his days in routine obscurity. Who could have expected that in his twilight years he would encounter an enlightened sovereign? This… must be heaven’s mercy — allowing him, within his lifetime, to still give full expression to his abilities. In this moment, he would close his eyes in peace even if it were his last.

“General Xie.” Xiyun turned her head to look at the Commander of the Palace Guards, who had been standing to one side throughout.

“This old minister is here!” Xie Su bowed quickly.

“Though the Five Generals of Fengyun have their reputation, they are ultimately young and cannot match your experience and courage. Therefore, after I depart, the security of Feng Guo is entrusted to you.” Xiyun raised her hand and patted the old general on the shoulder. “The military affairs of Feng Guo will require your close attention.”

“This minister will echo Minister Feng’s words: as long as this minister lives, Feng Guo will be secure!” Xie Su bowed his head and replied respectfully.

“Very good.” Xiyun gave a slight nod. “Of the Five Generals of Fengyun, I am leaving Qi Shu here to assist you. You and Minister Feng are the twin pillars of my Feng Guo — I can afford to lose neither of you. So both of you must take good care of yourselves and wait for my return.”

“We await Your Majesty’s return!” Both old ministers bowed in unison. “And we ask that Your Majesty take care of yourself for the nation’s sake.”

“That is enough — no need for so many formalities.” Xiyun once again helped the two old ministers to their feet, a warm and kind smile on her face. “Since I took the throne, many ministers have said I am cold and unfeeling — always saying that with every new reign the court changes hands. And yet… never mind all that. Only, if others do not understand my difficulties, surely these two ministers do? If I truly could not accommodate old ministers, I would not be entrusting the entire nation into your hands today.”

“We understand Your Majesty’s heart and have not one trace of divided loyalty.” Both old ministers raised their heads, eyes bright and clear as they regarded their queen — with nothing but loyalty and devoted respect.

“Mm.” Xiyun smiled faintly and nodded. At the same time she raised both arms slightly, one object resting in each open palm. “My departure may be long or short, but whatever the duration, these two objects are my symbol. To see these is to see me.”

“Yes!”

“Go.” Xiyun waved her hand lightly.

“We take our leave!”

The two old ministers withdrew, and the room fell once again into quiet stillness. Xiyun looked down at the two objects in her palms and let out a soft sigh.

“Reasoning with the mind, moving with the heart — those two old ministers are at this moment utterly devoted to you. Xi’er, you truly understand the kingly way.” The curtain of the inner room lifted, and Jiuwei walked out, his face holding both admiration and a touch of wistfulness.

“Though these two are old, they both carry great prestige in the court and among the people — they are very capable of holding certain others in check.” Xiyun said quietly. “Moreover, they are genuinely wholehearted in their loyalty to Feng Guo. Why would I fail their sincerity? With Feng Guo left in their hands, it will be as they have promised.”

“Since you trust them so fully, why did you also leave Qi Shu behind?” Jiuwei could not understand this.

Xiyun lowered her gaze to the two objects in her palms and closed her fingers lightly around them. “They are after all old. At times the spirit is willing but the strength is lacking. Feng Guo… since it is in my hands, I will absolutely not permit it to fall into disorder.”

Jiuwei heard this and looked at her, then suddenly broke into a smile. “Xi’er, if you were not a ruler, it would truly be a waste of your talents. No wonder the Five Generals of Fengyun recognize only you as their master.”

“They are different from everyone else. Over ten-plus years we have grown up alongside one another — beyond the bond of ruler and subject, we are also friends, and family.” Xiyun raised her head with a quiet smile — one of genuine warmth. “They are like you — among the only ones remaining in this world to me…” Her gaze suddenly drifted away again, as though something had come to mind. A slightly dazed look crossed her face. “From now on — truly, the only ones remaining.”

Jiuwei watched her, then stepped forward and took her hand in his. “On one side is the Xuanmo Token, on the other is the Feiyun Token. Together they make up all of Feng Guo — an entire kingdom held in the palm of your hand. What you hold is actually a great deal, Xi’er.”

“Yes, a very great deal indeed… Only… those who treat me with such devotion — how could I fail them?” Xiyun closed her palms and clasped her hands behind her back. “Jiuwei, do you believe in fate, or do you believe that human will can overcome heaven’s decree?”

“As for me…” Jiuwei narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze settling on a single point — seeming to look far into some distant, empty horizon.

“Your Majesty, General Qi has arrived!” The voice of an attendant suddenly came from outside the door.

“Please show him in.”

“Yes.”

After a brief moment the door was gently pushed open, and Qi Shu stepped in with large, purposeful strides.

“Shu pays respects to the Queen!” Qi Shu knelt with full and proper ceremony.

“Get up — no need for such formalities. This is not the Ziying Hall.” Xiyun raised her hand.

“Yes.” Qi Shu rose, lifting his gaze to Xiyun. “Your Majesty has summoned Shu — what is your command?”

“I want to ask you — over these past months, how have things been proceeding?” Xiyun asked with quiet composure from her seat.

“In reply to Your Majesty — with this round of troop recruitment, the people responded with enthusiasm. The one hundred thousand Imperial Guard and fifty thousand Fengyun Cavalry are all fully equipped and prepared. Furthermore, these past months we have not slackened off — we have been training the new soldiers throughout. This minister can guarantee that this fifty thousand Fengyun Cavalry is still the Fengyun Cavalry in Your Majesty’s heart.” Qi Shu answered respectfully.

“Good.” Xiyun gave a slight smile. “Shu, when I depart for Feng Guo this time, Xu Yuan, Lin Ji, Cheng Zhi, and Jiurong will travel with me. You will remain here to guard the capital.”

“This minister…”

Qi Shu had barely started speaking when Xiyun raised her hand to cut him off.

“Shu, I know you wish to come with me, but you cannot come this time.” Xiyun rose and walked to stand before Qi Shu. “I am going to Feng Guo, and I myself do not know when I can return. Though there are ministers like Feng Jing and Xie Su in the court, they are after all getting on in years. You must stay and assist them — and equally, to help me hold this Feng Guo. The responsibility that falls on you is even greater than that which falls on Xu Yuan and the others.”

“But this time…” Qi Shu seemed to want to say something, but held back, leaving the sentence unfinished. His eyes looked at his queen with wordless eloquence, as though trying to tell her everything he was thinking.

“Yes.” Xiyun patted Qi Shu on the shoulder and raised her eyes slightly to meet his. “It is just as you are thinking. I am going, and it may be one or two months before I return, or it may be several years — I cannot give you a precise answer. That is precisely why I am bringing those four with me. This Blood Phoenix Tally descends from our founding ancestor the Phoenix King, and from the time of Feng Guo’s founding it has been the symbol of this nation’s supreme command. Keep it safe. When the time comes that it is necessary, you will know what to do.” She drew from her sleeve a blood-red jade tally and placed it in Qi Shu’s palm.

“Yes!” Qi Shu bowed respectfully to receive the commander’s tally.

“With you in Feng Guo, I can depart with peace in my heart.” Xiyun gave a quiet sigh. “Take good care of yourself.”

“Shu understands. Please set Your Majesty’s heart at ease. Shu will surely guard Feng Guo well and wait in stillness for Your Majesty’s return.” Qi Shu bowed low, cupping Xiyun’s hands in both of his, and held them tight with a firm grip. “Also please Your Majesty take good care of yourself.”

“And there is this…” Xiyun spread both palms, revealing the Xuanmo Token and the Feiyun Token. “These two objects are my symbol. Whatever the future holds — no matter what comes in days ahead — to see these is to see me.”

“Yes!” Qi Shu bowed his head in answer.

“I depart at the start of the fourth month. Go and prepare.” Xiyun waved her hand lightly.

“Mm.” Qi Shu nodded, and then suddenly turned to give a bow toward Jiuwei, who had been standing quietly to one side. “I ask that Master Jiuwei take good care of our Queen.” His tone was both respectful and grave.

“Please set the General’s heart at ease. Jiuwei understands his duty.” Jiuwei returned the bow with a slight inclination.

Their gazes met, and then both gave a mutual nod of acknowledgment.

“Shu takes his leave.” Qi Shu bowed with full ceremony to Xiyun.

“Go.” Xiyun waved her hand lightly.

Watching that upright and steadfast figure disappear beyond the door, Jiuwei turned back to look at Xiyun. “You had good reason to keep him here.”

“Shu has a steady and composed nature. If I… with him remaining here, I can have no lingering concerns at my back.” Xiyun watched Qi Shu’s figure recede into the distance with a faintly wistful gaze.

Jiuwei looked at her for a moment, then suddenly said, “I have always had one question — why has Young Master Lanxi not yet taken the throne to this day?”

“Him?…” Xiyun spoke with a touch of abstraction. “He may be waiting for the most opportune moment.”