Since this was a peace marriage to a foreign people, the formal betrothal rites of presenting gifts and receiving the good omen were all dispensed with. The Ashina Khan would come in person to the border of the two countries to receive the bride; Da Zhao’s side would need to escort the procession to the border.

The escort party had capable officials in charge of foreign affairs as its leaders, and as the bride’s family, the Emperor had delegated his younger brother Prince Shou and the Fifth Imperial Prince to serve as the family’s representatives.

The Fifth Imperial Prince was only seventeen, not yet of age. He could hold himself together in public, but this was the first time he had been entrusted with such an important assignment, and he felt a flutter of excitement inside. Prince Shou rode in a carriage while he rode on horseback, circling back and forth between the front and rear of the procession.

He hadn’t expected that on one of those circuits, he would end up alongside Xie Yuzhang’s carriage and get caught — she peppered him with questions about the route the procession would take and the arrangements that had been made.

By the time he got away from her, his mouth was parched and dry. He rode back to Prince Shou’s carriage and gulped down half a canteen of water. He complained to Prince Shou: “Zhuzhu asks so many questions.”

Prince Shou was a carefree and idle prince, who in ordinary times cultivated his mind and nurtured his spirit — he was as easygoing as they came.

“Better than weeping,” he said, stroking his beard. “Zhuzhu — she’s doing well.”

“That’s true,” said the Fifth Imperial Prince, nodding.

That day they arrived at the post station to make camp. With so many people, there was no possibility of everyone fitting inside — even the largest post station could not accommodate them all.

Only Xie Yuzhang and the other nobles and officials, together with the Ashina delegation — Grand Preceptor Abazha and two princes — were lodged inside. Everyone else camped outside the station walls.

Xie Yuzhang had been observing all along the way. That evening, after washing up, she said to her maidservant: “Please ask Master Yuan to come.”

When Yuan Yu arrived, before he could even speak, Xie Yuzhang was already studying his face. She asked: “Master Yuan, are you fatigued from the road? Is there anything lacking in your carriage? Please do speak up if there is.”

Yuan Yu’s expression softened at once, the formal official face he had been maintaining — since they were not yet well acquainted — loosening into something warmer.

“Nothing at all is lacking. The carriage is most comfortable. Thank you for thinking of me, Your Highness,” he said.

Xie Yuzhang had someone bring him a seat.

Yunjing’s people were used to sitting directly on the floor, but once you left the city, even the post stations had foreign chairs and stools.

They had met before, but had not had any real opportunity to communicate at length. Now that Yuan Yu was seated, he took this chance to quietly observe Princess Baohua.

Long days of travel were exhausting for anyone. Even sitting in a cushioned carriage for a full day left one with a sore back and aching limbs.

Yet Xie Yuzhang showed not the slightest fatigue on her brow. She had already bathed and tidied herself, and if anything she seemed luminously radiant.

Youth really was a wonderful thing, Yuan Yu couldn’t help thinking to himself.

Xie Yuzhang said: “Today on the road, I noticed you conversing very freely with the people in the Ashina delegation, Master Yuan. I didn’t know you spoke the foreign language so well.”

Yuan Yu smiled: “When I was young, I traveled in Mobei for a few years, and made a friend or two out there as well. But it’s been more than ten years without contact — I don’t know whether they’re still alive.”

Xie Yuzhang sighed and said: “The people out there move constantly, following the water and the grass, and there are always skirmishes and conquests. To find them again would be no easy matter.”

The depth of feeling in her expression — as though she herself had lived through something.

Yuan Yu said: “Your Highness need not worry. Where Your Highness is headed is the Khan’s royal court — the supreme ruler of the grasslands.”

Xie Yuzhang only smiled faintly.

While old Ashina was still alive, that was certainly true. But once he died, so many sons and no possibility of unity — the Khan’s court would shatter into pieces, and it could no longer be called the supreme ruler of anything.

Just wait him out…

“Is there one fewer person in the delegation than when they first came to the capital?” she asked. “At the palace banquet, there was a man called Xia’erdan — fierce-looking, who insisted on challenging Li Shiyi Lang from River Commander Li’s retinue to a public contest right there in the hall. I’ve been looking all the way along the road, and I don’t see him anywhere.”

“He is on the roster, but when this subject checked names against faces today, he is indeed absent,” Yuan Yu said. “Ever since the peace marriage was decided, the delegation sent people back ahead of time to report the news. He was likely among that advance group that returned.”

So that was it. In her past life, from the moment Grand Preceptor Abazha made his proposal at the palace banquet, she had been in a daze. Fearing she would lose composure publicly, the palace attendants had already “helped her along” and ushered her away.

Just like Li Gu, Xia’erdan had seen her — but she had not seen him. And now he had returned early to report the news — no wonder she had not remembered meeting Xia’erdan this early in her past life.

With Xia’erdan not among the accompanying party, the tension in Xie Yuzhang’s nerves eased considerably.

The procession continued north, and once they left the capital region, people began, one by one, to suffer from the change in conditions — just as anticipated. Fortunately preparations had been made well in advance, and they had supplies of easy-to-carry medicinal pills ready to use.

Imperial Physician Bao Zhongjin also led the doctors in brewing medicinal teas during rest stops to distribute to everyone. Xie Yuzhang made a special point of having someone keep an eye on Yuan Yu and make sure he drank his share.

“Make sure Master Yuan drinks more of it,” she told Nanny Xia. “You go and watch him yourself.”

To have the Head Superintendent personally standing over him while he drank his herbal tea — Yuan Yu was somewhere between tears and laughter.

But Xie Yuzhang put on a slightly childlike expression and said: “I’m not afraid of going to Mobei. I just need everyone to come along with me — not one person falling behind on the way.”

That night, Yuan Yu told his young attendant: “Your Highness truly understands what matters most.”

The attendant, fanning lazily, rolled his eyes: “What’s that?”

“People,” Yuan Yu murmured, gazing up at the stars.

Completely unlike Yuan Yu’s reassurance was the bewilderment felt by both Ma Jianye and Wang Shitou. Neither of them could make heads or tails of things.

Back in the eighth month, Princess Baohua had come to the garrison camp once to inspect things, and had summoned the two of them by name.

A princess was of imperial blood and heavenly lineage — young in years, yet her presence had a commanding radiance. Both men were small figures; neither had ever been this close to someone so highborn. Ma Jianye had even snuck a couple of glances, while Wang Shitou didn’t dare let his eyes wander at all.

The princess said a few encouraging words, distributed some rewards, and left.

The two men stood holding their gifts and stared at each other blankly. It was Ma Jianye who stirred himself first: “Brother Wang, the two of us are on the same boat now. We’ll need to work together with one heart — come on, let elder brother here buy us a drink!”

He dragged Wang Shitou off whether he liked it or not. Wang Shitou’s tongue-tied nature meant he couldn’t refuse, so off they went to the tavern.

A few cups of wine later and Ma Jianye had gotten the full picture out of him, and couldn’t figure out how such a plain, honest sort had suddenly been promoted like this. He asked three times over whether Wang Shitou had pulled strings with anyone.

After getting laughed at once for telling the truth — that he had been personally chosen by Princess Baohua — Wang Shitou had resolved never again to say anything so likely to invite mockery. Ma Jianye got nothing out of him, but in his heart he had already dismissed Wang Shitou as harmless.

He mulled it over to himself: looking at it this way, once they were out on the frontier, the military side of things would be entirely his.

He had been gloomy over the whole peace marriage business, but now his mood shifted. He began to imagine the future — and a smile actually crept onto his face.

When the peace marriage procession set out, on the very first evening of setting up camp Ma Jianye said to Wang Shitou: “You go organize the troops — I’ll go report to Her Highness on today’s travel.”

Wang Shitou had only ever been a squad leader before — he was used to superiors giving orders and him carrying them out reliably. Even now that he’d been promoted to Captain, he hadn’t quite adjusted to his new role. And as for appearing before nobles to show his face — that sort of thing made him shrink inwardly. So when Ma Jianye said this, Wang Shitou agreed without a second thought and went off without question.

Ma Jianye inwardly sneered: fool.

Ma Jianye had it all planned — let Wang Shitou do the hard work, while he showed his face in front of the noble. But Princess Baohua, Xie Yuzhang, wasn’t buying it. She lifted her eyes, and the very first thing she said was: “Where is Wang Shitou?”

Young as she was, the noble bearing on her was strong, and Ma Jianye was, after all, nothing but a junior Captain — his back immediately bent, and he smiled apologetically: “The camp is still being set up out there — he’s keeping an eye on things.”

“Setting up camp is not yet finished — laying the cook fires, making the meal, setting up the tents, night watches… you’re not out there overseeing all of that, so why are you here?” Xie Yuzhang toyed with her fingers and gave him a cool, sideways glance.

Ma Jianye had rushed over in a hurry, naturally wanting to show his face in front of the princess more, so that she’d know him better and be easier to manage. He had not expected the princess, young as she was, to be anything but a naive, sheltered little thing. Yet the way she spoke, in and out, showed she was quite familiar with actual practical matters.

The sweat came pouring out of Ma Jianye’s forehead then and there. The idea of getting closer to the princess, charming her into compliance, was more than half extinguished at once.

“You may go,” said Xie Yuzhang, no longer looking at him. She issued her dismissal. “From now on, all daily matters go through Master Yuan first, and Master Yuan reports to me. Each morning and evening, you and Wang Shitou are to come see me together.”

Ma Jianye withdrew, wiping the cold sweat from his brow.

He had only gone a few steps before he cleared his head and understood what had just happened. He and Yuan Yu were civil and military, one and one: Yuan Yu was the princess’s household steward, junior seventh rank below; he was Ceremonial Captain, senior eighth rank above. Though he was technically one rank lower, civil and military were separate — they ought to have been equals, sharing governance between them. With one sentence, Xie Yuzhang had placed him beneath Yuan Yu.

By the time he realized this, the hierarchy had already been set.

He cursed his luck under his breath. These imperial nobles — even when they were young, you couldn’t afford to underestimate them.

After that day, he no longer dared go wandering in front of Xie Yuzhang, giving her grounds to catch him neglecting his duties. He had no choice but to buckle down and actually work. Fortunately Wang Shitou was extremely capable. Coming from a squad leader background, when it came to giving orders and moving troops he was less skilled — but for all these practical tasks, he was meticulous and methodical. Though it was his first time managing this many people, the advantage was that all the platoon leaders and squad leaders were his own brothers — assignments were passed down smoothly, without obstruction, and things went quite well.

The only problem was that at the daily morning and evening meetings before Xie Yuzhang, Ma Jianye grabbed all the talking time — making it sound as though all these things had been achieved through his own tireless effort. Wang Shitou was furious on the inside, but his mouth was clumsy, and in front of the princess he was even more tongue-tied. He could only watch helplessly as Ma Jianye claimed all the credit.

At least both the princess and Master Yuan seemed to regard Ma Jianye with cool indifference — the way they spoke was sometimes full of literary phrases Wang Shitou couldn’t quite follow, but the tone was unmistakably brisk and professional. Ma Jianye didn’t seem to have won any particular favor with them either, and this made Wang Shitou feel slightly better.

He went back and told his brothers. Over these past few days they’d all gotten a decent read on what sort of person Ma Jianye was, and figured that with a superior like him, none of them would ever see a scrap of credit. They all egged Wang Shitou on to show himself more in front of the princess.

Wang Shitou said gruffly: “How am I supposed to show myself? The moment I get in front of the princess, I can’t get a word out. How do I show myself?”

Everyone threw up their hands: “How can you not get words out? Did you go mute?”

Wang Shitou rubbed the back of his neck: “It’s just that, when I see the princess, my legs go wobbly.”

“Wobbly my backside!” Li A’da glared at him. “When we used to go hunting bears up in the mountains, I never saw your legs go wobbly!”

Wang Shitou heaved a sigh: “You can’t compare a bear with the princess! Look at what the princess looks like! Now look at what a bear looks like!”

Everyone burst out laughing.

Fortunately, the more times Wang Shitou appeared before Xie Yuzhang, the more his legs gradually stopped going wobbly. His complexion eased, and he even dared to look up and meet someone’s eyes.

Xie Yuzhang had of course noticed. A few days in, she listened to Ma Jianye’s routine daily report to Yuan Yu. For the first few days she had not interjected, but on this particular day she suddenly inserted a few questions of her own.

Ma Jianye answered the first couple well enough — but as the questions grew more specific, sweat beaded on his forehead and his answers became halting and vague.

Xie Yuzhang and Yuan Yu exchanged a glance. Xie Yuzhang said: “Wang Shitou, you tell us.”

It was the first time Wang Shitou had been given a chance to speak in front of a noble. His legs made a strong attempt to go wobbly again — he drew a deep breath and steadied himself, then answered point by point.

The language was dry, sometimes halting, but the logic was clear and plain — the man was clearly no fool, just a little on the simple, honest side.

In her own heart, Xie Yuzhang knew she had been too impatient. The position of Captain, in her eyes, was the smallest of positions. For Wang Shitou, it was a threshold he might never in his life have crossed otherwise.

She had been forcing the seedling to grow.

If she wanted him to replace Ma Jianye and take full command of the guard detail, she would have to do it slowly.