After Li Shuang’s confession, the situation in the capital grew tense. As promised, the city gates were indeed locked, with strict martial law imposed for ten days. No one could enter or leave. The Western Rong envoy was placed under house arrest, delaying his return.
The envoy repeatedly requested permission to depart, but his pleas were ignored, vanishing like stones cast into the sea. With the envoy’s prolonged absence, the frontier situation quickly became strained. Western Rong amassed a large army, and the conflict that hadn’t erupted last winter now seemed poised to break out in the approaching early summer.
As external pressures mounted and no trace of Jin’an was found within the capital, Emperor Sima Yang finally opened the city gates, allowing the Western Rong envoy to leave. However, from the moment the envoy exited the city, he was surrounded by Great Jin soldiers, strictly guarded to ensure he didn’t take anyone else with him.
Li Shuang was summoned to the cabinet countless times, and interrogated by the Prime Minister’s trusted subordinates. The current Prime Minister, Ji He, had been the maternal uncle of the Third Prince and had fully supported his bid for the throne when Sima Yang was still Crown Prince. After Sima Yang’s ascension, the Third Prince was placed under house arrest at North Mountain to observe mourning, while Ji He retained his position due to his deeply entrenched power in the court.
However, astute observers knew that Ji He’s survival was less about self-preservation and more about Sima Yang temporarily sparing him. As emperor, Sima Yang had been elevated by the Great General. His empress and the forces behind him relied heavily on the Great General’s support. Some recklessly referred to the Great General as the “General King” behind closed doors, his prestige nearly overshadowing the throne.
Sima Yang needed a force to counterbalance the Great General. Their struggle in court allowed Sima Yang to develop his power base. How long Ji He remained depended on Sima Yang’s political maneuvering.
Ji He’s role in questioning Li Shuang demonstrated his usefulness to Sima Yang. His trusted men interrogated her relentlessly for days, asking about the man’s appearance when she last saw him, and who else he knew.
Li Shuang was no stranger to such high-pressure questioning, having overseen similar interrogations herself. Her responses were a mix of truth and fabrication, consistent and without discrepancies, leaving no room for her interrogators to find fault. In her account, she was simply a general who had saved a stranger out of gratitude.
She claimed to know nothing of his identity, origins, or why she was being questioned. She only knew his appearance and abilities.
The Great General remained silent about Li Shuang’s interrogation, not using any connections, leaving the Prime Minister without grounds to implicate him.
Half a month passed, and as Jin’an’s matter seemed to settle, the Prime Minister suddenly accused the Great General of colluding with the enemy before the entire court. The reason: they had discovered an underground chamber in the Bai Temple in the southern part of the city.
The chamber showed recent signs of habitation, and Li Shuang had lived in this temple before joining the General’s household as a child. They tortured the temple monks, using methods they dared not use on Li Shuang. Finally, one monk broke and confessed that someone had indeed been living there recently. This person had spoken with the monk, claiming the Great General had arranged his stay and instructed the monks to keep it secret.
Li Shuang immediately recognized this as a forced confession. Firstly, her father had nothing to do with this arrangement. Secondly, though her interactions with the memory-restored Jin’an were brief, she knew he wasn’t foolish enough to reveal his background to the monks or even allow them to discover his presence.
Someone had been coerced into providing false testimony, claiming to have seen Jin’an and knowing of the Great General’s involvement. Though the testimony was false, it contained elements of truth, plunging the General’s household into a precarious situation.
At this point, Li Shuang broke her silence: “I was the one who sent him there.” For the first time, she told the truth to her interrogators. “I knew he was a Western Rong prince. When I learned the Dragon Guards were coming for him, I told him to go there. The General’s household is implicated because of me. My father was kept in the dark.”
The Prime Minister’s confidant questioning her immediately perked up: “General Li, this is a serious matter. Don’t try to take the blame to protect the Great General.”
“I’m not taking blame falsely. This is what I did,” Li Shuang replied calmly. “My father hasn’t been to the northern frontier in years and doesn’t know Western Rong people. I returned from the north via South Changshan specifically to rescue him. After bringing him back to the capital, I finally learned his identity and decided to let him go.”
Her calm statement left the scribes stunned. The emperor’s feelings for Li Shuang were well-known throughout the court, and her confession directly challenged his face.
“General Li,” the Prime Minister’s confidant asked with a sinister look, “why would you help an enemy of the state?”
“Western Rong signed a peace treaty with Great Jin and is no longer our enemy. Colleague, mind your words,” Li Shuang replied, her gaze lowered. “As for why I saved him… he once saved me. I owed him greatly.”
“Your actions seem to go far beyond repaying a debt,” the man said with a slight smirk. “What exactly is your relationship with him? Please elaborate.”
Li Shuang raised her eyes, fixing them on him. “I’ve said all that needs to be said. The rest is not for you to ask.”
Unperturbed, the man stood and gathered his documents. “Then I’ll report this as is. If someone with the authority to ask comes later, I hope you won’t evade the questions, General.”
The report was passed up through the ranks to Emperor Sima Yang’s hands. Li Shuang didn’t know what alterations the Prime Minister’s people might make, but the next day, she was imprisoned as a result.
In the cabinet’s dungeon, Li Shuang was given the largest cell. Compared to conditions during military campaigns, it was merely dark and damp—not too unpleasant. She endured it calmly.
No one from the General’s household came to see her, not even Li Xing. Li Shuang understood. The household was now a target, and any misstep could bring disaster. All they could do was distance themselves from her, pushing all blame onto her. Whether this was her father’s wish or not, it was necessary to protect the household.
Ultimately, both Li Shuang and the Great General were subjects. Her relinquishing of power and the Great General’s gradual concessions were meant to reassure the current emperor.
Li Shuang spent some time in prison, feeling the weather gradually warming even in the dungeon. The cabinet hadn’t yet passed judgment on her actions. By the time mosquitoes appeared in her cell due to the heat, a familiar face finally came to visit her in the dungeon.
When Li Shuang saw Qin Lan, she showed no emotion. Qin Lan, however, knelt before her cell. “General,” he said.
Li Shuang sighed. “My rank has been stripped. Just use my name.”
“…How could you do this for one person, General?” Qin Lan asked.
“You’ve asked me this many times, Qin Lan,” Li Shuang replied. “You know why.”
Qin Lan gritted his teeth and fell silent. After a long pause, he admitted, “I reported my suspicions to His Majesty.”
“I know,” Li Shuang’s simple response struck Qin Lan like a slap. He couldn’t meet her eyes.
Li Shuang continued, “Keeping the future Western Rong crown prince as a hostage would have been the best guarantee for the peace treaty between Great Jin and Western Rong for years to come. What you did was good for Great Jin. I was the one who erred.”
From the emperor’s perspective, Great Jin’s perspective, and even Li Shuang’s former perspective, her imprisonment was justified. She hadn’t defended herself since her arrest.
But Qin Lan’s expression grew increasingly strained. Finally, as if his veins might burst, he exclaimed, “No! It wasn’t out of loyalty to the emperor or patriotism!” His voice was low but filled with confusion and hatred – hatred for the departed Jin’an and himself. “I was just jealous! General, I was just jealous. I… for you…” Even in this outburst, he bit back his words.
He compressed and buried those long-suppressed feelings of love, letting them explode within his chest rather than speak them to Li Shuang.
Li Shuang watched his struggle, understanding his meaning but unable to do anything.
“Qin Lan,” she said calmly, “I’m no longer a general. Now I’m just a prisoner. I no longer need or deserve a personal guard. When you leave today, return the captain’s seal to my father. With your abilities, you shouldn’t stop here.”
Qin Lan finally looked up at Li Shuang. Her eyes were calm, her expression unchanged, as if she had just issued a routine order for training or deployment, or for him to stay by her side day after day.
But she was ordering him to leave.
“Take care of yourself in the future.”
Qin Lan’s eyes suddenly emptied. He knew Li Shuang too well; he knew she meant it. She no longer needed a personal guard, needed him.
The air in the cell seemed dead. Qin Lan’s back was like dry stone. He bowed, his spine creaking as if about to break. “Yes,” he said.
He stood, as if his soul had been taken, and began to leave.
“Qin Lan,” Li Shuang suddenly called. A tiny spark lit in his eyes as he half-turned. But she only asked, “Do you have any news of him?”
The last flame extinguished. He said softly, “I heard some martial arts sects are helping him. His whereabouts are unknown. There’s no news of his return to Western Rong yet.”
“I see,” Li Shuang nodded. “Thank you.”
“Miss…” Qin Lan hesitated. “Please stay calm in prison for a few more days. The Great General will surely find a way to free you.”
“Mm.”
Qin Lan turned and walked out of the cabinet prison, each step taking him further from Li Shuang’s presence.
The path ahead seemed to darken until he couldn’t see. He only knew he should move forward, as Li Shuang wished, but where to go, how to walk, where to place his next step…
At that moment, it all became a mystery.
After Qin Lan’s figure disappeared from the prison, Li Shuang sighed softly. She had known him for over a decade, and memories of the past seemed vivid. She closed her eyes and rested for a while.
It was comforting to hear that martial arts sects were helping Jin’an – undoubtedly the Five Spirits Sect. Alone, it would have been difficult for Jin’an to reach Great Jin’s borders. His striking appearance made him easy to recognize, and Li Shuang feared the money she’d left in the underground chamber might not be enough to support him until he left Great Jin.
With the Five Spirits Sect’s help, and Wu Yin’s cleverness, Jin’an would surely be well-cared for.
Li Shuang leaned against the wall, pondering these things. She dozed off until the afternoon. As the sun was setting, she noticed a figure moving outside the dungeon. The newcomer wore a jailer’s clothes for delivering meals.
The previous jailer had always been polite, addressing her as “Miss” before carefully placing her meal by the cell door.
This jailer didn’t call out to her.
Li Shuang thought he might not want to disturb her sleep, so she greeted him: “What’s for dinner today?” After being imprisoned for so long, she had few chances to speak each day. Even a jailer could help pass the time.
“Ah… oh… vegetables, rice, and some meat,” he replied.
Li Shuang raised an eyebrow. “There’s meat? I must try it properly.”
She hadn’t tasted meat in a long time.
The next morning, shocking news spread from the cabinet prison: Li Shuang, daughter of the Great General and former commander of the Changfeng Camp had suddenly died of illness in her cell. Upon hearing this news in court, the Great General suffered a relapse of an old ailment due to shock and grief. He immediately left the morning court to return home and recuperate.
Li Shuang had always been the Great General’s pride. As a woman, she had fought for the country in battles that even men feared. Now she had met such an end, dying suddenly in prison.
The Great General claimed illness and didn’t attend court for five consecutive days. The atmosphere between the emperor and the Great General’s household suddenly became strange.
The entire capital fell into an eerie silence.
But the news of Li Shuang’s death grew wings. From the capital, through the mouths of common people, it spread like dandelion seeds in the wind, floating and swaying for thousands of miles.