Fuchun had provided such useful information. Without Xie Yuzhang even needing to give a sign, Lin Fei had already retrieved the finest gratuity envelope. Fuchun demurred for a moment, but in the end accepted it.

His willingness to accept meant it was a benefit for both parties.

Since it was not suitable to approach the Emperor just now, Xie Yuzhang thought it over and went to the Eastern Palace instead. The Crown Prince had evidently returned not long before, had just changed into informal house clothes, and still had the fresh, clean look of having recently washed his face.

“Elder brother, I have heard that the roster for my escort attendants has been finalized?” Xie Yuzhang asked.

The Crown Prince was somewhat surprised. “Your news travels quickly.”

In truth, this was entirely normal conduct in the palace. Noble Consort Chen always managed to receive word of anything she wanted to know at the very first moment. The difference was that in the past Xie Yuzhang had been so favored she had never done anything of the sort, and everyone knew her naïvety was genuine naïvety, not an affectation put on deliberately, as some others did. So the Crown Prince was somewhat surprised now.

But for Xie Yuzhang to learn these skills before her departure was not necessarily a bad thing, the Crown Prince thought. After all, the place where she would be living in the future was somewhere her family’s reach would be too short to help.

“I had intended to go ask Father Emperor about it, but then I heard Father Emperor was in poor spirits…” Xie Yuzhang looked down.

“Understood.” The Crown Prince felt tender pity for her and agreed. “I will see to this matter tomorrow.”

Xie Yuzhang raised her head and saw the tenderness in the Crown Prince’s eyes. They were not born of the same mother, yet they were still blood kin. Thinking of the hollow, dejected state he would fall into later, and of his early death, leaving Lady Yu behind, she lowered her head again, and quietly clenched her fist.

The following day, nine days having passed since the great banquet, Xie Yuzhang obtained the roster she had been waiting for.

This was only a preliminary selection. That Xie Yuzhang could receive the roster now meant that many of the people on it could also learn at this time that their names had been included. What would follow was a desperate scramble — each person employing whatever means they had to remove their own name from the list.

Mid-seventh month. The heat of summer was at its peak. In the inner chamber of Zhaoxia Palace, ice basins had been placed in all four corners, and a thin thread of coolness permeated the air.

Xie Yuzhang dipped a brush in vermillion ink and found Attendant Xu’s name.

Attendant Xu was her head palace nurse and Palace Directress. Despite having run about making entreaties and sending gifts everywhere, she had still failed to escape the fate of being sent with Xie Yuzhang to the distant land. She had died of illness on the grasslands, still longing for her elder brother and sister-in-law and nephews in the capital, unable to return to her native soil, dying in bitter resentment in that land of the alien north.

The bonds between people were subject to fate, and should not be forced. The first half of Attendant Xu’s life had been one of harmonious service between mistress and servant — it had been a beautiful thing in its own right. When the thread had reached its proper end, let it be cut.

Xie Yuzhang drew a vivid red cross through Attendant Xu’s name, the very first.

Lin Fei sat at her side, slowly grinding the ink for her. Seeing that bright red cross, her lips moved slightly, but in the end she said nothing.

Her little princess had grown up. She had begun to arrange and plan for her own life, to make decisions for herself. At a time like this, Lin Fei should not be interfering too much.

Xie Yuzhang called upon her memories, going through the beloved palace maids at her side and marking off those whose bodies had been weakest, whose natures had been too yielding — the ones who had faded and perished early on the grasslands, each marked one by one.

Those not strong enough in body, or not resolute enough in spirit, would likely not be able to endure the storms ahead. Better to give them a path to life.

When it came to the palace staff, Xie Yuzhang crossed off two who had been particularly smooth-tongued and did nothing of real substance.

After that came scholars, doctors, tradesmen of various crafts, farmers, and even monks and Taoist priests. In her past life she had never given any of these a second thought, but now she knew that some of them were very useful indeed, while others were of no practical use whatsoever.

She added a note in red beside the physicians and veterinarians: Increase as many as possible.

She added a note beside the florists and gardeners: Unnecessary — reduce numbers.

Then turning the pages, she came to her five hundred personal guards.

The first name was the man leading the unit: Ma Jianye. Several years had passed, and Xie Yuzhang still remembered that unsavory face of his well. Nothing but a captain, and yet he wore a look of smug satisfaction whenever someone addressed him as “General.”

Xie Yuzhang gripped the brush tightly and glared with deep loathing at this name she despised — but forced herself to swallow that bitterness back down.

This position was too important. If she replaced him with someone whose true nature she did not know, the variables ahead would be too unpredictable. Better to leave Ma Jianye where he was for now and deal with him gradually in due course.

She went through the roster of five hundred names, reading each one carefully.

Lin Fei was puzzled.

She could understand the additions and removals among the palace staff — after all, Xie Yuzhang knew many of those people personally. But these five hundred guards — what was there to look at? Could the princess actually recognize any of these men?

She was still puzzling over this when she suddenly heard Xie Yuzhang emit a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a murmur.

Lin Fei raised her gaze and saw that a shimmer of moisture had gathered in Xie Yuzhang’s eyes, and a single tear fell onto the paper, soaking into a name.

—Wang Shitou.

A plain, unadorned name. One look at it, and you would know it belonged to someone from the countryside.

I have found you at last, Wang Shitou.

Xie Yuzhang’s slender, pale fingers rested on that name. Everything before her eyes blurred.

She felt as though she was carried back to that day — guards stationed outside the tent, she and Lin Fei huddled together, trembling with fear at an uncertain fate. And then they heard Wang Shitou’s bellowing voice —

Your Highness! Princess Baohua — ! Where are you — ?

The two of them had gone rigid.

This was Da Mu’s army camp. Li Gu’s most trusted general, Jiang Jingye, commanded one hundred thousand strong. How many men did Wang Shitou have? How had he dared to force his way in?

How had he dared to come and save her?

Wang Shitou and his companions’ voices had been like those of beasts trapped in an iron cage — carrying desperation and a tragic, doomed courage.

Their voices had fallen silent later.

They had been kept under guard, and did not know what had happened to those men. They had been escorted all the way back to Yunjing. Yunjing still looked as it always had — bright moon, red towers — only it had become the Yunjing of Da Mu now.

Later — in a much later later — they had been living at Xiaoyao Marquis’s residence, and Lin Fei had by chance encountered one of the guards who had come in the wedding retinue. She had gone to ask about them, and had come back to tell her several names.

Wang Shitou.

Li A’da.

Zhao Niuwa.

Qian Fugui.

……

……

Dozens of men, dozens of horses, dozens of blades, and they had charged with every ounce of their guts into Da Mu’s military camp, trying to rescue her.

They had all died there.

The most loyal of her guards had all perished at the border of the Khanate, unable to return with her to Yunjing.

And yet that place was barely a thread’s width away from their homeland.

Da Zhao was already gone. She was no longer any kind of princess, no kind of Your Highness. And yet there had still been those men, loyal and fierce, unwilling to abandon her.

In the beginning it had been nothing more than… when disease struck their company during a tribal migration and she had not, as the Hu nobles did, abandoned the sick like chattel — she had given medicine, and ordered the physicians to make certain they were healed. That was all.

In truth, she had never even known their names. Wang Shitou, at the highest rank among them, had been nothing but a small fire-team leader.

She had only been unwilling to see, one by one, fewer and fewer of the people who had traveled with her from their homeland.

Later, she and Lin Fei had written down all their names in the Xiaoyao Marquis’s residence, again and again.

In their hearts, worn until they knew them like a song.

These names could not be forgotten, and would not be forgotten.

Lin Fei’s brow furrowed. “Your Highness?”

Xie Yuzhang startled back. She looked up, met Lin Fei’s eyes, dipped the brush tip again in vermillion, and circled the name Wang Shitou, adding a note: Promote to captain, deputy to Ma Jianye.

Li A’da circled: Promote to platoon commander.

Zhao Niuwa circled: Promote to platoon commander.

Qian Fugui circled: Promote to squad leader.

……

Lin Fei watched in astonishment as Xie Yuzhang circled one name after another, her manner unhesitating, as though she knew these men personally.

But… how could that possibly be?

The roster was returned to the responsible officials. The official who reviewed it was quite taken aback. He had anticipated that since the princess had requested the roster, there might be adjustments to the list of palace staff. What he had not anticipated was that the princess had extended her hand into the escort guard unit as well.

The official did not dare to bring this before the Emperor — that day word had come out that a tribal chieftain in the south had stirred up another rebellion, and the Emperor’s mood was very poor.

So the official went to consult the Crown Prince instead. The Crown Prince was also surprised that Xie Yuzhang would insert herself into the matter of the guards’ personnel changes, but he made his position clear: “Whatever she wants to do, let her do it. After all, these will be the people who follow her from here on.”

The official accepted his orders and departed. The Crown Prince returned to the Eastern Palace and remarked in wonder to Lady Yu, “Zhuzhu has actually inserted herself into the guard unit’s affairs.”

Lady Yu had a careful mind, and said, “Perhaps it is the Yang family’s doing?”

The Yang family was Xie Yuzhang’s maternal family — blood was thicker than water, and it was entirely reasonable that they would run about on her behalf. The people Xie Yuzhang had elevated were perhaps Yang family placements, for all they knew.

The Crown Prince found this quite plausible.

As a matter of course, the Yang family had indeed been running about on Xie Yuzhang’s behalf.

The Duchess of Xun entered the palace and told Xie Yuzhang, “The household steward we found for you is named Yuan Yu. He was originally your uncle’s protégé, and he is willing to go with you. Several accountants are also our own people — they will watch over your assets carefully on your behalf.”

Xie Yuzhang smiled bitterly. This Master Yuan was not without talent, but he had fallen to a sudden illness from not being acclimatized to the conditions there — and he had died in less than half a year.

She could only say, “Very well,” and receive this kindness from her maternal family with gratitude.

In her past life she had been far too lacking in conviction, and had not known how to manage. It had taken years of stumbling on the grasslands before she learned much of what she knew now. By then, the people who had come with her in the marriage retinue had already scattered. Some had died, some had been seized by others in the tribal conflicts, some had been resourceful enough to seek allegiance directly with other powers.

In short, by the time she and Lin Fei had learned how to hold tightly to their assets and to keep the hearts of those around them loyal, it was already far too late.

Once the Duchess of Xun had departed, Xie Yuzhang wrote down from memory several illnesses common in the northern lands — illnesses that struck easily and could take a person’s life — and handed them to Lin Fei. “Take these to the Imperial Physician Director. Tell the Imperial Physician Academy that when preparing the medicinal supplies for me, these must be prepared in large quantities. And — the physician assigned to accompany me is named Bao Zhongxin. Have him gather all the recruited physicians and go over these illnesses carefully, familiarize themselves thoroughly, so they are not caught off guard when the time comes.”

Her thinking had grown ever more precise, and she could even anticipate details like these. Lin Fei marveled and felt relief, and accepted her instructions to carry them out.

Xie Yuzhang had the latticed panels of the inner chamber all opened wide. She reclined on the wide daybed, gazing at the lush greenery in the central courtyard.

She felt that she had done what she could, and what came after, she would leave to fate.

But a palace servant came in to report: “Princess Kangle has sent someone with gifts.”

Xie Yuzhang froze. In all these days since her rebirth, she had actually forgotten this elder cousin of hers!

It was truly because Princess Kangle, Xie Baozhu, had never been close to her before, and to Xie Yuzhang, she… had already been dead for a long time. When a person dies, they gradually fade from memory — features and names swallowed up in the dust of history.

She let out a breath and said, “Have them come in and speak.”

The visitor was the attendant lady at Xie Baozhu’s side, who had come to present Xie Baozhu’s wedding gift to Xie Yuzhang.

“Is Elder Tiger Sister in good health these days?”

Princess Kangle of the Prince Shou’s residence, Xie Baozhu, had carried a frail constitution with her from the womb. The slightest breath of wind or change in the air could leave her bedridden. For this reason, her mother had given her the pet name Da Hu — Big Tiger — in the hope that it would bring her stronger health.

“Thanks be to Your Highness the Princess’s blessing, the Princess has had no particular ailments recently, and in the evenings she even walks in the garden.” The attendant replied.

Being able to walk about was Xie Baozhu’s finest condition. Xie Yuzhang sighed softly and said to the attendant, “When you return, please tell Elder Tiger Sister that it is too late today, and I will go visit her tomorrow.”

That attendant had come expecting to find a Princess Baohua sunk in dark misery. She had heard the rumor going about, that Princess Baohua had shown real princess-worthy composure this time, and she had privately scoffed at the thought. Unexpectedly, upon meeting her today, the rumor turned out to be true. She was about to be wed off to such a place, yet she was not weeping, not making a scene, and in fact carried a certain dignity that made it difficult to look directly at her.

Lin Fei returned from the Imperial Physician Academy to report: “The Physician Director says to set your mind at ease. He has thought of all of these, and is already preparing them.”

Xie Yuzhang twitched the corner of her mouth. In her past life she had received no such consideration. She had wept until both the Emperor and the Crown Prince had grown weary of it and had avoided her. The attitude at the top naturally influenced the way those below carried out their work. Everything they had done had been in accordance with the requirements, technically speaking, but as for the kind of attentive, thoughtful care she was receiving in this life — no, that had not existed.

Xie Yuzhang told Lin Fei, “Elder Tiger Sister sent someone with wedding gifts today. I will go visit her tomorrow.”

Lin Fei made only a sound of acknowledgment, and offered no other response.

Xie Yuzhang smiled faintly — she knew what was in Lin Fei’s mind.

A person who had been chronically ill and frail for years, spending most days confined to bed, would naturally not have a particularly easy temperament. Xie Baozhu could not be called sullen or difficult, but neither could she be called approachable.

A woman like her — how had she managed in Li Gu’s harem, holding her own against the other occupants?

And Li Gu — how had he treated her?

Xie Yuzhang recalled the scattered fragments of idle words she had once heard long ago…

They say His Majesty is rather fond of Xie the Talent.

They say Xie the Talent bears five or six parts of resemblance to that Princess Baohua.

Hmph. What princess? Just a woman who had married three times and made a mockery of human decency!