As the harsh winter gripped the borderlands, spring blossomed in the capital. News of the Northern Defender Prince’s awakening reached the city a month later, alongside reports of his army crossing the Yue River and laying siege to Rong Province’s main city.
Ming Tan was offering fruit to the ancestral tablets of Crown Prince Yucong and his wife in the family shrine when she heard the news. The fruit platter clattered to the ground as she turned, momentarily stunned. “What did you say?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Lv’e, her maid, repeated with tears of joy glistening in her eyes, “The Prince has led his army across the Yue River and now besieges Rong’s capital. Surely he’ll return victorious soon!” Wiping her eyes, she continued, “It seems His Highness awoke some time ago, but the complex situation at the front kept the news from reaching us. My lady, you’ve been so worried about the Prince that you’ve grown thin. Now, with this good news, perhaps you can finally rest easy!”
Since word of the Prince’s injury had spread, Lv’e had watched her mistress suffer from nightmares and lose her appetite. The weight Ming Tan had regained after her recovery had melted away in recent days.
The servants, including Lv’e, had been deeply concerned but hesitant to offer comfort given the gravity of the situation. Even Suxin, Ming Tan’s closest confidante, had been at a loss. Now, at last, their patience had been rewarded with this joyous news.
The sudden announcement left Ming Tan speechless, unsure how to process her emotions. After a moment, she regained her composure and stubbornly retorted, “Who’s been worried about him?” Unconsciously touching her thin cheek, she continued, “I’m still recovering from my arrow wound, and summer is approaching. One needs a slender figure to look graceful in light summer clothing. What do you know?” Glancing at the scattered fruit, she added, “Clean this up quickly.”
“Yes, my lady,” Lv’e replied with a tearful smile, bowing without arguing with her mistress’s obvious attempt at denial.
After Lv’e replaced the fruit and Ming Tan finished her prayers, they left the shrine. As they walked, Ming Tan paused and suddenly instructed, “Make preparations. We’ll visit Lingmiao Temple early tomorrow.”
It was best not to delay in fulfilling vows, lest the Buddha be displeased and their wishes be undone.
While families in the capital rejoiced over the progress in the northwest, the situation in Rong Province grew increasingly complex. Despite crossing the Yue River and besieging the provincial capital, victory seemed far from certain.
Crossing the river had proven easier than expected, leaving a clear path to the capital of Rong Province – Yao City, renamed Suiyang by the Qiang Yu after their conquest. Whether called Yao City or Suiyang, it remained a strategic military stronghold. The ease with which the army had crossed the natural barrier and approached the city walls struck the commanders as highly unusual.
“Scouts report minimal troop presence within Suiyang,” one officer reported. “Patrols of six soldiers appear on the eastern wall every two hours, and even the granaries lack heavy guards-“
Another furrowed his brow and interjected, “The towers are manned by only a single patrol. This defies logic. The Qiang Yu forces must be greater than this. Could they be attempting the empty fort strategy?”
“The Qiang Yu isn’t clever enough for such tactics,” a burly general scoffed. “You’re overthinking this. Can’t our 80,000 elite troops take one city? They probably have less than 20,000 defenders left. I say we charge in without delay!”
“That’s not how we should approach this,” another cautioned. “Their recent ambush nearly succeeded, proving the Qiang Yu is not without cunning. General Sun, we mustn’t underestimate them. Pride goes before a fall, as they say.”
“Indeed, we’ve long assumed the Qiang Yu to be simple-minded, but our encounters have revealed no shortage of clever opponents,” a third chimed in. “Perhaps we should camp outside the city and summon 20,000 reinforcements from Qing Province. That would improve our odds in a frontal assault.”
“How long must we wait for Qing Province to send aid?” someone objected. “While we await reinforcements, our enemy may do the same. If we give them time to catch their breath, this siege could drag on indefinitely!”
As the debate raged on, Jiang Xu stood silently before the sand table, hands clasped behind his back. After what seemed an eternity, the arguing generals fell quiet, red-faced and hoarse.
“Finished?” Jiang Xu asked calmly, his gaze sweeping across the assembly before settling on Shen Yu, who had remained silent throughout. “What’s your assessment?”
Shen Yu, taken aback at being addressed, considered carefully before responding, “This humble officer believes we shouldn’t delay the assault. Summer approaches and the borderlands suffer harsh winters and scorching summers. The heat will inevitably affect morale. This campaign has dragged on for nearly half a year since winter’s end, and our troops are exhausted. Further delays could prove disastrous.
“The Qiang Yu is not without strategic acumen. Precisely because of this, they must realize that upon discovering the city’s apparent vulnerability, we would suspect an empty fort ploy and hesitate to attack. So how can we be certain they aren’t exploiting our caution to buy time?”
Though Shen Yu’s reasoning was sound, many generals remained reluctant to launch an immediate assault given the uncertain situation within the city. Shen Yu, however, understood that their opinions mattered less than the decision of the man in command.
Boldly, he asked, “Has Your Highness already formulated a plan?”
Ignoring the question, Jiang Xu picked up a small flag and toyed with it in his hand. “Prepare the troops. We attack at the hour of the Ox tonight.”
“Your Highness, please reconsider!”
“Isn’t this too hasty?”
Jiang Xu looked up. “An hour ago, I received intelligence that the Qiang Yu is in turmoil. The chieftain’s third son has withdrawn his forces, refusing to aid Rong Province further. Only the chieftain and his eldest son remain, trapped in the city with barely ten thousand men.” His voice deepened as he firmly planted the flag on Suiyang’s position on the map.
As night fell, the sky turned pitch black without a single star in sight. Jiang Xu, clad in a dark battle robe embroidered with coiling dragons, gripped his war horse’s reins while gazing steadily at Suiyang’s gates in the distance.
Behind him stood the imposing ranks of 80,000 Great Xian soldiers. Though motionless, they exuded an aura of deadly intent.
Jiang Xu had never been one for rousing speeches to inflame his troops’ passions. Yet his mere presence at the vanguard, his back a picture of calm determination, was enough to fill his soldiers with unwavering courage and confidence.
As the harsh drumbeats echoed through the night, battle flags fluttered against the dark sky. The Great Xian eagle emblem on the banners seemed poised to take flight in the flickering firelight.
Jiang Xu raised his hand, and his voice carried across the silent night:
“The thirteen northern provinces have long been lost to barbarians. For three dynasties, countless soldiers have shed blood to bring us to this final battle. Rong Province is Great Xian territory – we cannot yield an inch. In the past, emperors guarded our borders. Now, we soldiers defend our homeland!”
Though he didn’t shout, his words resonated deeply with the troops.
Soon, a chant rose from the ranks: “Protect our land! Reclaim Rong Province!”
“It’s time Suiyang reclaimed its true name of Yao City,” Jiang Xu declared, drawing his sword and pointing it at the city gates. The blade gleamed, highlighting his sharp profile. “Attack!”
“Charge!!!” The army surged forward. Siege ladders and catapults advanced as one. Outside Suiyang’s walls, flames lit up determined faces in the night.
Three days later, after relentless assaults by the 80,000-strong Northern Army, Suiyang fell.
The defenders were clearly at their limit. Yet the Qiang Yu, with their savage nature, had feigned an empty city to buy time. Now, seeing defeat was inevitable, they showed their true colors. While the Northern Army avoided harming civilians, the Qiang Yu forces abandoned the populace, spreading oil through the city to burn it down along with their conquerors.
“Commander Shen!” a soldier cried in horror as a burning beam from the city wall plummeted toward Shen Yu.
Hearing the shout, Jiang Xu cut down his opponent and moved with inhuman speed to Shen Yu’s side. He braced himself, catching the massive beam.
“Go,” he ordered through gritted teeth.
“Your Highness!” Shen Yu gasped, realizing Jiang Xu had likely broken bones in his left hand from the impact.
More beams fell, blocking their escape. One man could hold the timber, allowing the other to flee. Despite his grave injuries, Shen Yu didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward to help support the crushing weight.
Jiang Xu glanced at him but said nothing.
Other soldiers tried to assist but were engaged in combat. Shen Yu, driven by an inexplicable impulse, looked at Jiang Xu and forced out words between labored breaths:
“A while back, I thought I’d done something wrong. Then I realized Your Highness never received the Princess Consort’s letter—”
Jiang Xu remained silent.
Shen Yu continued, “But I got a letter from my cousin in the Ming family. It said nothing, just contained a dark piece of jade. I only realized recently there was a message inside.”
Sweat poured down his face as he struggled to speak. “When I took out the message, I accidentally dropped it. It said to give Your Highness the… the Wuheng jade. My cousin wrote he was entrusted with this task. I wondered if… if it might be from the Princess Consort…”
“Where’s the jade?” Jiang Xu asked gravely.
“I… I forgot where I put it. That’s why I didn’t tell Your Highness right away.”
“…I shouldn’t have saved you.”
As summer arrived, news of Suiyang’s fall spread rapidly across the empire. With Suiyang captured, Rong Province was essentially under control. However, clearing out the smaller towns and counties took nearly three months before the army could begin its journey home.
After a month on the road, word of the Northern Army’s triumphant return reached the capital around the autumn equinox.
“It’ll be any day now,” Bai Minmin said as she trimmed flower stems. “With all thirteen northern provinces reclaimed, it’s a momentous occasion. Zhang Huaiyu says the Emperor himself will greet them at the city gates.”
Zhou Jingwan discreetly observed Ming Tan, noting her fluttering eyelashes betrayed her interest. Jingwan selected a fresh peony, and as she trimmed it, she casually added, “Lu Ting has been at the Palace Guard office these past few days. It seems the news of the Emperor’s welcome is true.”
She arranged the cut flower in Ming Tan’s vase and asked with feigned nonchalance, “Lu Ting will surely be too busy to accompany me. Tan’er, why don’t you come with me to watch the spectacle?”
“Have Minmin go with you. I need to review accounts at my country estate,” Ming Tan replied, focused intently on arranging the flowers.
“Why go now of all times?” Bai Minmin muttered.
Ming Tan shot her a look. “It’s my estate. I’ll go when I please.” She set down her shears. “It’s getting late. You two should head home. Suxin, Lv’e, see our guests out.”
Soon, Bai Minmin and Zhou Jingwan found themselves ushered out.
The courtyard fell silent. Ming Tan sat quietly for a moment before beckoning Yudie, a second-tier maid waiting by the door.
“Yudie, I hear your brother is the deputy manager at Huichun Pavilion?” Ming Tan asked casually.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“I’ve also heard… the window seats there are quite difficult to reserve.”
“Usually it’s not too bad, but for special events, they’re in high demand. Like for the top scholar’s parade after the spring examinations, or His Highness’s victorious return through the West Gate, passing by Huichun Pavilion. The window seats will be packed for that.”
Ming Tan nodded, choosing her words carefully. “I see. Well, I have a friend who wants to reserve a window seat at Huichun Pavilion in the next few days. I wonder if your brother might be able to help?”
Yudie hesitated briefly. “Your Highness, when you say ‘friend’… do you mean yourself?”