The scorching sun burned overhead as hot winds swept across rolling yellow dunes. Wei Shu, serving as deputy envoy, had traveled with the chief envoy’s diplomatic mission over a hundred li beyond the Great Wei border.
After passing through the frontier and crossing Longyou, their group of about a hundred people exchanged their horses for camels to adapt to desert life. During this time, one person fell ill from the harsh conditions. The diplomatic mission couldn’t halt for a single person, so after making arrangements for their care, the envoys continued their journey.
According to their map, they were meant to visit a small nation. This country was reportedly established by a branch of a tribe that had fled here to escape warfare. Earlier that year, when those envoys visited Great Wei, various parties had verified this and provided such a map to Great Wei.
However, now that Wei Shu’s group had followed the map to this location, they found themselves standing in the vast desert, staring bewildered at the ancient city ruins buried beneath the sand and dust.
Even their hired Hu guide was stunned, not expecting the nation to have vanished.
The climate was severely dry. Wei Shu stood on a high dune while others sat dejectedly on the ground, all fanning themselves with gauze hats against the heat. Wei Shu sweated less than the others, not suffering as much from the temperature. He heard the guide say helplessly, “My lord, I was here just three years ago. Their nation still existed then. Looking at this now, whether from warfare or lack of water… *sigh*, we’ve come all this way for nothing. My lords, please return my payment?”
The Hu people beyond the frontier didn’t understand Great Wei’s complex official titles and simply called everyone “lord.”
Wei Shu crouched on the sandy ground and began updating the map. He erased the marker for that nation and noted the guide’s account beside it. An ancient city had silently vanished, leaving neither written records nor legacy. If not for their visit, history might never have recorded even a whisper of its existence.
Seeing everyone’s disappointment, the chief envoy said, “Well then, let us rest here briefly before continuing to our next destination…”
But the guide grew very anxious: “My lord, this place isn’t safe. If bandits appear…”
Before he could finish, everyone heard strange sounds and looked up. Their group was scattered around the ancient city ruins, with Wei Shu still kneeling on the scorching sand. As he raised his head, he saw what looked like storm clouds covering the sky—dozens of Hu people wearing sheepskin clothes and brandishing spears had appeared on the desert hills above.
These men rode horses, moving like lightning across the desert. Black horses poured down from above as the Hu warriors shouted in unintelligible languages, charging down to attack!
The chief envoy immediately called out: “Prepare for battle!”
The guide beside them said, “They must have seen our caravan and come to rob us. My lords, we should abandon the goods and save ourselves…”
Wei Shu had already walked over. As the chief envoy hesitated, he said coldly, “We cannot abandon them.”
The guide was nearly crying from fear of the fighting: “Then we’ll die here! You Wei people don’t understand—these desert bandits are especially fierce… they’ve destroyed many nations!”
A nation destroyed! How formidable!
The chief envoy’s eyes flashed with tension. He shouted for everyone to gather together, not wanting to give the enemy chances to pick them off. Meanwhile, Wei Shu looked at the guide with an odd expression: “May I ask how many provinces and prefectures these destroyed nations had?”
The guide was confused: “What provinces and prefectures?”
Wei Shu simplified it to terms the other could understand: “How many people were in the whole nation?”
The guide: “Several hundred people…”
At these words, even the previously tense chief envoy relaxed somewhat: How frightening—he’d thought it was a great nation like Wei. Talk of destroying nations had made him nervous for a moment. Merely several hundred people calling themselves a nation… Though still impressive for dozens to defeat hundreds, at least it wasn’t as invincible as they’d imagined.
Wei Shu explained from beside him: “We cannot abandon the goods now. If we lose supplies so early in our mission, things will only get harder later. We should preserve what we can while we can.”
The chief envoy gave Wei Shu an approving look, thinking that though young, this seventh son of the Wei family wasn’t a burden but rather calm and clever—quite impressive.
However, whether Wei Shu was clever or not had little to do with this desert battle.
Even if these bandits weren’t as fearsome as everyone had thought, they’d roamed these lands for who knew how long. The Wei diplomatic mission, half scholars and half warriors, truly wasn’t their match. They watched as the enemy on horseback surrounded them, shouting arrogantly and excitedly while staring at the supply wagons the mission protected in their center.
Seeing them about to attack, Wei Shu grabbed the trembling guide beside him: “Can you understand what they’re saying? Can you translate my words to them?”
Guide: “…Yes!”
Wei Shu: “Good, tell them we are envoys sent by Great Wei. Wei is a wealthy and vast nation, not some small country! If they harm us, Wei will surely send troops… If they’re only after the goods, we can negotiate!”
His message was too long; the guide’s translation was halting and awkward. The bandits just laughed loudly, ignoring whatever they were saying. Their leader raised an arm with a shout, and dozens of men charged toward them, eyes gleaming with endless greed!
In this life-or-death moment, Wei Shu’s scalp tingled as he realized reasoning with such bandits was useless. Sword in hand, he could only fight first and talk later. Though not a martial official, noble families of this era emphasized both literary and martial cultivation. While Wei Shu wasn’t as martially talented as Yang Si, he could handle ordinary combat…
However, Wei Shu now worried that these bandits seemed exceptionally fierce… Would their diplomatic mission fail at the first hurdle?
As Wei Shu desperately sought a way to escape while struggling against the enemy’s mighty assault, a bandit of massive build swung his blade carelessly at the slender youth, clearly dismissing him. Suddenly, a flash of snow-white blade light cut in diagonally from the side.
The bandit immediately grew alert!
At the same time, a hand grabbed Wei Shu and yanked him back forcefully, nearly throwing him to the ground. After stumbling several steps, he saw someone with a youth’s build take his place, wielding a narrow blade with deadly precision. This person exchanged only a few moves with the enemy before cutting them down.
As the enemy’s blood gushed forth, his savior turned to look at Wei Shu.
A clear voice rang out: “To negotiate with someone, you must first subdue them with force. If you can’t even defeat them in combat, who would negotiate with you?”
Wei Shu stared in shock at this person who appeared as a young man but had willow brows, apricot eyes, and fair cheeks with red lips… clearly… he blurted out: “Zhao Wu Niang?”
How could Zhao Wu Niang be on his diplomatic mission?
Consort Zhao made a face at him, but before he could recover, she turned to face the battle again!
That night, the diplomatic mission reached a compromise with the bandits, agreeing to negotiate the next day.
The envoys rested at the ancient city ruins. After Wei Shu, as deputy envoy, had comforted everyone and consulted with the chief envoy, he left the tent and spent some time lost in thought under the bright moon. Looking up, he saw a young woman sitting cross-legged on the dune in the moonlight.
Zhao Lingfei sat in the moonlight cleaning her blade, sensing someone approach. She turned her face and saw it was indeed Wei Shu.
In the desert, everyone looked somewhat disheveled, yet Wei Shu still shone with clear radiance, like fragrant orchids and jade trees.
Zhao Lingfei smiled: “You’re different from before. You used to barely speak a word all day, but now I see you on the diplomatic mission talking to all sorts of people constantly.”
Wei Shu: “Just official duties.”
Seeing him dismiss her with so few words again, Zhao Lingfei humphed and propped her chin on her hand like a young girl, showing none of the heroic bearings she’d displayed while killing earlier that day.
When she fell silent, Wei Shu looked at her: “That was your first time killing, right? You seemed… practiced. Weren’t you afraid?”
Zhao Lingfei: “In a life-or-death moment, who has time to be afraid?”
Wei Shu quietly watched her. She felt he was different from how he’d been in Chang’an, and he felt the same about her. In Chang’an, Zhao Lingfei had been the fifth daughter of Ritual Officer Zhao—though trained in martial arts, she was still playful and delicate. But here beyond the frontier, Zhao Lingfei’s gaze was bright and determined, her expression open… like an eagle freed from its cage.
Wei Shu: “So you’ve been following the diplomatic mission all along? Just avoiding showing yourself to me for fear I’d discover you?”
Zhao Lingfei: “I had no choice. I failed at disguising myself as a man once before when Second Brother Yan caught me. I was afraid I’d be caught again and sent back to Chang’an before even leaving Great Wei. So this time I had to be extra careful.”
She turned her head, looking at Wei Shu pleadingly. She tugged gently at his sleeve and said softly: “Just pretend you never saw me, don’t send me back to Chang’an, alright? I can follow along and protect all of you. You saw today how dangerous it is outside Great Wei—you need me.”
Wei Shu pressed his lips together and said quietly: “You’re still a young lady.”
Zhao Lingfei: “What’s wrong with being a young lady? Why look down on me? Wasn’t it this young lady who saved you from death today?”
Wei Shu said helplessly: “I mean that it’s inappropriate for you to mix with us men. When the Ritual Officer finds out, he’ll surely be furious.”
Zhao Lingfei froze, thinking of something that made her face turn red and her manner grow shy. She stammered for a while before lowering her head, still blushing. But she still said softly: “…Anyway, I can’t go back. I must follow you all.”
Wei Shu: “Why not go find Third Young Master Yang?”
Zhao Lingfei: “You mean cousin? He’s starting from scratch as a common soldier now, not some general—how could he hide me? Besides, he’s so close with my father that he might just send a letter to Longyou and have my cousin package me right back to Chang’an.”
“But you’re different. You’ve left Great Wei, can’t communicate with them, and they can’t control you. Following you, going further and further away—that’s where I’ll be safe.”
Wei Shu: “Why? Is your father still forcing marriage?”
Zhao Lingfei gave a gloomy “mm-hmm.”
Wei Shu: “But we don’t know when we’ll return—could be a year, could be ten years… Are you truly willing to accept that?”
Her mood was low, but she curved her eyes and said softly: “Weren’t you the one who said not to submit to fate, but to rebel? My father was about to exchange betrothal cards with someone—if I don’t escape now, I never will. He says I can’t survive without the Zhao family, and that everything I have depends on him. I refuse to believe that… So I must leave Great Wei. I want to prove I don’t need to rely on them, don’t need a man to support me… I can support myself. My life shouldn’t be controlled by my father.
“They may have raised me, but does that mean I should be a puppet? And if I refuse to be a puppet, must I atone with death? The world shouldn’t be like this.
“Seventh Brother, Brother Juyuan… help me just this once, let me go with you all!”
The moon was bright, stars were sparse, and desert dust flew.
Zhao Lingfei looked up at the moon in the sky, her expression gradually growing determined: “My cousin always wanted to leave Chang’an, and now I understand—I want to leave too. My cousin wanted to be a free eagle in the sky, and now I understand—I want that too, I also don’t want to be bound by others!
“Is marriage the only path for girls? Do girls have no life of their own besides being traded for family benefit? I don’t know… but I want to find out for myself, to understand what I truly want.”
Wei Shu watched her quietly.
When she spoke of her aspirations, she seemed to glow. But perhaps even she hadn’t noticed—
In Chang’an, Zhao Wu Niang’s escape from marriage sent Lord Zhao into a tremendous rage. He’d had to swallow his pride and apologize to the noble family of the intended match, shamefully taking back the betrothal cards.
Lord Zhao had declared that when he next saw Zhao Lingfei, he would break the Fifth Young Lady’s legs!
He currently assumed his daughter was hiding somewhere in Chang’an as usual, at most daring to seek Third Young Master Yang at the frontier. He had no idea his daughter was so bold as to leave Great Wei entirely.
Lady Zhao cried daily, Lord Zhao’s various schemes proved fruitless, and as dark clouds gathered over the Zhao household, even Princess Danyang heard the family gossip from a court official.
Hearing of Zhao Lingfei’s escape from marriage, Mu Wanyao grew cautious and hurriedly sent a letter to Shu, fearing Zhao Lingfei might seek out Yan Shang. At the same time, she felt relieved that she had held tightly to Yan Shang. Given Zhao Lingfei’s fearless temperament… Yan Shang might truly have been moved by her.
With Yan Shang gone, especially for disaster relief work so far away in Shu, at least half a year had passed… Mu Wanyao felt rather irritable.
In Chang’an, she merely followed the routine of consolidating her political power. Without Yan Shang’s companionship, without Yan Shang for her to tease, life was too normal—normal to the point of tedium. Yet Mu Wanyao couldn’t possibly chase after him to Shu… He was busy with official duties—what would it look like if she kept pursuing him?
As if she couldn’t live without Yan Shang.
Besides, wasn’t she busy too?
While Mu Wanyao glumly attended to Chang’an’s political affairs, nothing major occurred in the capital. The only unusual matter, from her perspective, was that the Prince of Jin’s wife was with a child.
The Princess Consort of Jin had prayed for countless years, dragging Mu Wanyao to worship Buddha who knew how many times… Now that she was finally with child, Mu Wanyao, who had witnessed firsthand how anxious the Princess Consort had been, also felt relieved and somewhat happy for this woman who’d had such a difficult time.
So someone could pray for a child to this extent and succeed. If the Princess Consort of Jin hadn’t conceived, Mu Wanyao felt she might have gone mad… Mu Wanyao thought of herself but quickly pushed such thoughts away. Yan Shang had already accepted her; she shouldn’t create trouble for herself, tormenting herself needlessly.
However, amid her joy, Mu Wanyao grew concerned about Chunhua’s treatment in the Prince of Jin’s manor.
When the Princess Consort had no child, she’d kept Chunhua close, preparing for the worst—if she never conceived, the Princess Consort would surely have adopted Chunhua’s son as her own.
But now the Princess Consort was with child.
If she bore a son, the subtle competition between the legitimate and first-born sons… would inevitably change Princess Consort’s attitude toward Chunhua. Chunhua’s life in the Prince of Jin’s manor would likely become much harder.
Mu Wanyao pondered this for a while but saw no solution. It was Chunhua’s life to live—she couldn’t marry Fifth Brother in Chunhua’s place. At most, she could remind Fifth Brother more often to watch over the inner court… So if only Chunhua hadn’t had to become a concubine in the first place, how much better that would have been?
As she thought about it, Mu Wanyao grew to hate the Prince of Qin even more.
Recently, the Prince of Qin had been quite active… Having been confined long enough, the troop movements in Chang’an made the Prince of Qin uneasy, and he would likely be released soon.
Though Mu Wanyao used every means to keep the Prince of Qin confined longer, in the seventh month, she had to watch helplessly as he was released. Fortunately, this nearly half-year confinement had greatly affected the Prince of Qin, making him much more low-key, no longer daring to show off.
The Prince of Qin even made a special trip to the Princess’s manor to drink with Mu Wanyao, saying he wanted a temporary reconciliation: “Yaoyao, we were never enemies, to begin with. Third Brother wronged you before, and now I’ve come specially to apologize—please stop hounding me at court.”
For this, the Prince of Qin sent vast treasures.
Mu Wanyao truly couldn’t do much about him now, so she half-heartedly accepted his reconciliation. At the same time, she felt secretly pleased, playing with the Prince of Qin’s apology gifts in her manor, thinking how all this came from her current position.
Power, power, it was all about power.
She was fascinated by it.
She became even more engrossed in political affairs; without a man around, she grew more passionate than before. Focusing entirely on her schemes, Princess Danyang’s influence behind the imperial court grew tremendously important. It was at this time that Xia Rong suddenly reminded Mu Wanyao of something: “Your Highness, when will Second Young Master Yan return?”
Mu Wanyao was reading a memorial when she heard this and grew alert: “Why do you ask?”
Xia Rong: “Because this servant’s brother was born recently, and I suddenly remembered—isn’t Second Young Master about to come of age?”
Mu Wanyao paused, saying: “His birthday is in mid-tenth month; he’ll come of age then.”
Xia Rong: “Will the Second Young Master be able to return by then?”
Mu Wanyao said unhappily: “Of course, he can return! He’s there for disaster relief, not to live in Shu permanently. No matter how difficult things are in Shu, once they get through September, they’ll be past the dry season. No matter how dedicated he is, there’s no need for him to stay in Shu after that.”
Xia Rong’s reminder left Mu Wanyao thoughtful and excited. She tossed aside the memorial and began pacing, muttering to herself: “How important is a young man’s coming-of-age ceremony! After the capping ceremony, that’s when one truly becomes an adult. His father can’t come to Chang’an, so as his… mm, I should help arrange it.”
She tilted her head in thought: “I should discuss this with Scholar Liu.”
Scholar Liu was Yan Shang’s teacher—if Yan Shang was to have his coming-of-age ceremony in Chang’an, it would certainly need to be performed by a respected elder like Scholar Liu. Mu Wanyao’s heart fluttered as she thought about discussing it thoroughly with Scholar Liu, giving Yan Shang a surprise… He probably didn’t think anyone would care about his coming of age.
Mu Wanyao was a woman of action. No sooner had she had the thought than she headed straight to Scholar Liu’s residence without warning to discuss the matter.
The princess’s sudden arrival left the Liu household scrambling to receive her. As Mu Wanyao descended from her carriage and entered the Liu residence, it was Liu Ruozhu who hurriedly came to welcome her. Over these few months, due to Liu Ruozhu’s persistent efforts, Mu Wanyao had grown much more familiar with the young lady and thought much better of her.
So when she saw Liu Ruozhu, Mu Wanyao wore a hint of a smile and nodded in greeting. However, when her gaze moved past Liu Ruozhu to a tall, refined-looking young man who seemed somewhat familiar, Mu Wanyao paused.
That young man bowed to her: “This humble official Lin Dao of the Hanlin Academy pays respects to Your Highness.”
Mu Wanyao remembered—this was the person who had organized something like storytelling at the Hanlin Academy during her literary competition, competing with her and infuriating her thoroughly.
Mu Wanyao said unhappily: “Why are you here?”
Liu Ruozhu smiled from beside her: “Some books I bought from the East Market turned out to be inaccurate, some are rare copies of lost works, and some are later fabrications. I couldn’t sort through them alone, so Brother Lin came to help. Brother Lin is very learned, and with his help, we’ve organized many books these past few months. Once we finish organizing them all, we plan to make copies and send them to the Hongwen Library, so scholars throughout the realm can read them.”
Lin Dao nodded beside her: “These books Miss Liu saved are indeed extremely important. Though I originally wanted to donate them to the Hanlin Academy, she wants to send them to the Hongwen Library.”
Liu Ruozhu blushed, saying embarrassedly: “The point is to let more people see them. If Your Highness is interested, we could send some to the Princess’s manor as well?”
Mu Wanyao smiled: “How could I let you copy them alone? I’ll send some people to help you with the copying.”
As she passed by the two, she smelled the fragrance of ink on them, imagining they must have been busy in the library earlier. Liu Ruozhu followed Mu Wanyao, leading her to see her grandfather. Mu Wanyao looked back to see Lin Dao following behind Liu Ruozhu… her eyes flickered, suddenly realizing this talented scholar and beautiful lady were well-matched indeed.
Mu Wanyao asked Liu Ruozhu: “After you finish organizing these books, what will you do next?”
Liu Ruozhu said softly: “There are many lost books in the world—I want to recover them all, one by one. But my abilities are humble, and I’m just a woman. I don’t know how such a wish could be fulfilled.”
Mu Wanyao smiled casually: “That’s simple. Just marry a husband willing to do this work with you. Someone to collect and organize these with you, to travel everywhere with you, exploring history and antiquity, helping you preserve these lost cultural treasures…”
Liu Ruozhu’s face suddenly turned red, especially with Mu Wanyao said this in front of Lin Dao, making her stammer: “Y-Your Highness, what are you saying! How can you suddenly say such things!”
She glanced nervously at Lin Dao behind her.
Lin Dao smiled at her, making her face redder as she guiltily looked away.
Liu Ruozhu: “I-I’ll help Your Highness look for whatever books you want…”
Mu Wanyao languidly waved her feather fan: “Choose whatever you like. After all, I’ll be reading alone, not like you, who has someone to keep you company, adding fragrance to your studies, sharing your aspirations… Our little Yan Er isn’t interested in such things.”
She affectionately called out “little Yan Er,” and Liu Ruozhu, already used to the princess’s occasional showing off and reminding her to stay away from Yan Shang, merely curved her lips in a smile. Lin Dao, however, grew thoughtful, wondering who this “little Yan Er” might be.
Could it be… Yan Suchen?
The refined and elegant Yan Suchen with this proud, married princess?
Interesting—
While Mu Wanyao was discussing Yan Shang’s coming-of-age ceremony with Scholar Liu in Chang’an, Yan Shang’s disaster relief work in Shu was progressing exceptionally smoothly.
Smoothly… to an almost eerie degree.
After arriving in Shu, he first went to Yizhou, also known as Shu Commandery. Yizhou was an extremely wealthy region of Jiangnan, yet a great drought had occurred in Jiangnan. The Yizhou officials were very cooperative with Yan Shang—whatever he requested, the local officials arranged.
The disaster victims in Yizhou hadn’t caused any major incidents, neither rioting nor rebelling, simply queuing daily to receive the court’s grain distributions. Fearing the officials might be up to something, Yan Shang personally supervised, yet no problems arose. The prefects and magistrates of Yizhou all claimed to love the people like their own children, saying they wouldn’t dare defy the court’s will even in secret.
Yan Shang provisionally believed them.
Later, leaving Yizhou, he visited several other key countries. This time, unlike Yizhou, the disaster wasn’t so well-controlled. In these small counties, as an official dispatched from Chang’an, Yan Shang was naturally received enthusiastically by the local minor officials. He supervised their disaster relief work just as he had in Yizhou.
However, this time when people queued for grain, Yan Shang discovered sand and stones mixed into the grain.
The daily porridge distributions also contained many impurities and more water than rice.
When Yan Shang questioned this, as was his duty, the officials wailed about their difficulties: “Young lord, you’ve come from Chang’an and haven’t seen disaster victims—you don’t understand our hardships. There are too many suffering people. By mixing in some other materials, we can save more people. As long as no one starves to death, it’s fine. In such difficult times, saving more people is what matters most.”
They had written Yan Shang off as a high-ranking official who didn’t understand the common people’s suffering or local officials’ difficulties.
Even though their actual ranks might be higher than Yan Shang’s… but officials differed, and a Chang’an official outranked local officials in status.
Yan Shang appeared to accept their explanation, but when he returned, he told his servant Yun Shu: “When grain is mixed with impurities, there are usually two numbers that might be wrong behind this phenomenon.
“One is the amount of grain in the warehouses—there’s a high chance that’s problematic. The other possibility is that the number of commoners… doesn’t match the actual situation.”
Yun Shu didn’t understand: “We have the household records of the local people and daily records of grain distribution quotas… How could they not match?”
Yan Shang said quietly: “I don’t know either. I’m just saying it’s possible… This has all been too smooth. The threads behind this might run very deep. But perhaps I’m overthinking it… In any case, we should investigate.”
Yun Shu: “If they’re deceiving their superiors and oppressing their subordinates…”
Yan Shang sighed and said no more—
While most commoners had become victims of the disaster, some remained unaffected.
Like the powerful local families, like the noble houses.
Shu didn’t have many great noble houses; those that existed had only recently risen above being local strongmen. Such families were much easier to investigate than established noble houses. When Yan Shang and his men made private inquiries among the common people, they easily discovered several such families who had people supplying them grain—they weren’t short of food at all.
Yun Shu, holding their findings, said: “These families are all buying grain from outside merchants, at prices higher than the market… but there’s nothing to criticize there. We can’t stop merchants from making a profit, can we?”
Yan Shang sighed: “Merchants.”
That night in the study, seeing Yan Shang’s silence, Yun Shu looked up: “What’s wrong, young lord?”
Yan Shang rested his hand on his forehead, saying softly: “Yun Shu, do you know why we’ve always suppressed merchants from growing too powerful? Though they merely seek profit, why do we constantly diminish their status? Merchants value profit, but so do officials. Once officials and merchants collude… it becomes truly troublesome.”
Yun Shu was startled: “Young lord, you suspect they’re manipulating the disaster relief grain?”
Leaning against his desk, looking at the papers spread before him, thinking of the commoners they’d questioned during the day… Yan Shang spoke calmly: “If it were just that, I could handle it. I fear there’s more… I fear all of Shu is doing this. I fear that from top to bottom, everyone knows and is tacitly allowing it.
“If too many officials are involved… when the law doesn’t punish the majority, what should I do?”
Yun Shu was silent.
Though Yan Shang’s tone was level, having served the young lord for so long, he could hear a trace of anger in his voice. Yun Shu privately marveled—to make someone as even-tempered as his young lord angry… these officials were truly something.