Before the sky had fully brightened, the two of them rose.

Though they had rested through the night, Li Xuandu had been unable to sleep in the second half of it. When he got up this morning, he felt his spirits were not very good.

He had assumed she must feel the same. To his surprise, she was full of energy, and seemed to be in quite good spirits.

For a brief moment, Li Xuandu had the feeling that she seemed to have completely forgotten what had happened the previous night.

This made him breathe a sigh of relief. The guilt and regret that had settled in his heart since then and would not go away eased a good deal at once. But seeing that she could be so utterly unbothered by it, he felt — inexplicably — as if a faint, thin bitterness had surfaced somewhere in the depths of his heart.

A call came from outside that the preparations were complete and they could set out.

Pu Zhu glanced at him and, seeing he seemed to be lost in thought, picked up her veil hat — the one she used to shield herself from wind and dust and the sun — put it on, said “let’s go,” and went out.

Li Xuandu watched her quick, light steps as she walked away, stood still for a moment, and finally moved to follow her out.

Once outside, Pu Zhu saw Ye Xiao and went over specifically to thank him.

Ye Xiao hastened to demur, saying it was his honor to be of service to the Princess Consort.

Pu Zhu smiled, got in the carriage, and leaned back in A’mu’s arms. She closed her eyes in feigned rest and waited for departure. Just then, a party of horsemen came galloping in pursuit on the road behind them — it was Yang Hong, who had chased after them with two jars of wine, saying that upon learning that the Prince and Princess Consort of Prince Qin were leaving beyond the passes, he had come to see them off.

Pu Zhu knew Yang Hong was a man who valued loyalty and deep feeling. She herself had avoided seeking him out to avoid any awkwardness, yet he had still come to see them off. She was moved, and seeing him, she felt all the more warmth, and called him Uncle as she used to.

Yang Hong waved his hands repeatedly, saying he dared not accept the title. Pu Zhu asked after the well-being of his wife and children, and smiled: “My little brother should be able to call out ‘Father’ by now, shouldn’t he? This trip I was afraid to disturb you, Uncle, and so didn’t dare come to the door. Once we return someday, if there’s a chance, I’ll come visit the little one.”

Yang Hong thanked her again and again. Pu Zhu said: “Uncle Yang, there’s no need for such formality between us. I’ve always understood in my heart how good you’ve been to me.”

Yang Hong was deeply moved. Pu Zhu reminisced with him for a short while, then noticed Li Xuandu standing about ten or so paces away, seemingly watching as Yang Hong and she spoke, and told Yang Hong to go exchange a few words with Prince Qin as well, while she got into the carriage first.

Yang Hong went over to pay his respects.

Though he and Pu Zhu were very familiar with each other, he had no acquaintance with Prince Qin, and his manner was respectful and reserved.

Li Xuandu opened by asking him about the frontier situation in He Xi.

“Please set your mind at ease, Your Highness. The frontier situation is currently calm, which is why this subordinate dared to leave his post to come here and see you off.”

Li Xuandu nodded: “This border area will be in your hands then.”

“This is this subordinate’s duty. This subordinate will do his utmost and dare not slacken.”

Li Xuandu nodded again: “Thank you for coming specially to see us off. A temporary parting — until we meet again!”

Yang Hong hurriedly bowed his hands in farewell. But he saw that after taking two steps, Li Xuandu stopped, as if hesitating. He slowly turned around, looked at him with something he seemed to want to say but held back. Yang Hong said: “If Your Highness has anything further to say, please just command it!” Seeing Prince Qin turn his face and look at the small carriage in which the Princess Consort sat — its curtain drawn tight — seemingly at last making up his mind, he opened his mouth and quietly asked: “The Princess Consort stayed here for many years — it was you who took her in? What were her circumstances before?”

“I have heard…”

He paused. “As a child, there were times she could not even eat her fill?”

Yang Hong, suddenly hearing Prince Qin ask this, felt a surge of emotion and replied: “With all due respect to Your Highness, General Pu, father of the Princess Consort, saved this subordinate’s life. When the Princess Consort came here to the border in her childhood, she was disliked and cast aside by her relatives and depended on her mute nurse working odd jobs for others to earn food. When I found her, the mute nurse was sick, and she had indeed gone without enough food for several days, so hungry she had no strength to walk, yet she was still searching in the earth for edible roots — it was a pitiful sight. After I brought her home, it was nominally to repay the kindness, but in truth I had not much care for her…”

Yang Hong thought of old times and wore an expression of shame.

“My wife was crude and greedy for profit; while I was away from home for long periods, she used the Princess Consort like a maidservant. The Princess Consort suffered much hardship; even in the depths of winter, she was sent to wash clothes in the frozen river until her hands were covered with chilblains. She suffered harsh treatment in my household for many years, yet bore not the slightest resentment. This subordinate feels deeply ashamed. My one comfort is that heaven has eyes, and has now given her such a worthy husband in Your Highness. In the days ahead she will have someone to rely on all her life and will no longer need to suffer the hardships of drifting and wandering. Now Your Highness is about to take her beyond the passes, and this subordinate cannot follow in your train. I can only faithfully carry out my duties and from here pray for Your Highness and the Princess Consort to live in harmony together and for all things to go smoothly!”

When he finished, he knelt down and kowtowed respectfully.

Li Xuandu slowly turned his head and looked at the small carriage in the distance, its curtains drawn tightly closed. After a moment, as if he had just come back to himself, he helped Yang Hong up from the ground. He said nothing, only gripped his arm firmly, then turned, mounted his horse, and with Yang Hong and the relay station director seeing them off respectfully, led the party away from the relay station and continued on the road.

Several days later, Li Xuandu reached Yumen Gate and assembled the five hundred men who would accompany him beyond the passes.

Of these five hundred, half were convicted officials and soldiers sentenced to labor beyond the frontier as punishment, their faces tattooed to prevent escape — every one of them was no model son or filial grandson. Pu Zhu had only briefly shown herself, still wearing her veil hat; even at the moment of departure, several of the men in the formation still had their eyes fixed unblinkingly on the small carriage in which she sat, staring for a long time without looking away.

Li Xuandu had previously entered and exited the gate several times when receiving and escorting Huaiwei, and the garrison general recognized him. He saw him off as he passed through the gate, and fearing that Li Xuandu would be dissatisfied with the quality of troops at the last moment, he explained apologetically: “Your Highness, please forgive this subordinate — it was not his intention to show disrespect. These are the only men this subordinate has who can go beyond the passes with Your Highness. Though they are not good people, many are seasoned veterans who have hacked off heads on the battlefield. Once they are put to use, they will hopefully render some small assistance to Your Highness.”

Li Xuandu looked over this rabble of convict soldiers and miscellaneous troops, said it was fine, led the party through the gate, and continued westward.

He had already traveled this stretch of road twice; he needed no guide and knew the way himself. Following his memory, he traveled for several days, gradually going deeper into the desert.

One night, the party set up camp in a spot sheltered from the wind. Luo Bao came running to Pu Zhu and said that tomorrow they would enter the heart of the desert, and it would take at least six or seven days of travel before they could pass through it and reach the oasis. Tonight, there happened to be a water source nearby, and he asked if she wanted to bathe.

The weather was full-on hot. Even sitting in the carriage during the day you’d sweat layer after layer. There had been no opportunity to bathe for the past several days. Though somewhat uncomfortable, this was what she had chosen herself when she insisted on coming along — Pu Zhu did not say a word about it and simply endured. Now that she heard she could bathe tonight, of course she jumped at the chance.

Luo Bao accompanied A’Ju and Nanny Wang to escort her to a spring nearby and set up a canvas screen taller than a person’s head. Pu Zhu bathed and washed her hair to her heart’s content inside the screen, washed thoroughly and happily, and returned with damp hair. Passing through the camp, she saw from a distance a group of tattooed big men resting on felt mats nearby, and knowing her appearance was disheveled, she took a detour to avoid them, and made her way back to the tent she was staying in and crawled inside.

These men were convicts to begin with, each one having cut off heads on the battlefield, and now dispatched beyond the frontier — no different from outlaws. A beauty had flashed by, and though she had vanished just as quickly, the men were greatly stirred up, and even after her figure disappeared, where was there any mood for sleep? They strained to look, unsatisfied and still wanting more. Most were held back only by awe of her identity and dared not be overly brazen.

The ringleader among them was a man named Zhang Zhuo. He was in his prime — formerly a military officer, savage and fierce in battle, and had commanded over a thousand men under him. Because he could not bear his superior’s behavior and in a fit of rage accidentally killed a man, he had been sentenced to exile beyond the frontier. When they were at Yumen Gate, he had become the leader of these five hundred men. He had been eager to try himself, thinking that once out there he would do great things and earn an earldom through merit. But when at last he’d seen the court’s inaugural Western Regions Protector-General who was to lead them west — though he held a noble title, a Prince no less, he looked nothing like a man of might and valor. Zhang Zhuo was deeply disappointed and thus lost all respect. Now, taking advantage of the fact that there was some distance between this side and the other over there, he was holding forth in grand style: “In my younger days I roamed as a knight-errant in the capital, ranging across the South Market, and I’ve seen quite a few beautiful women. People often say that when looking at a woman, you must look at her face from a distance, her feet up close, and her waist from a medium distance — neither too near nor too far. Do you know what that means?” Seeing the others shake their heads, he explained: “It means that even the most beautiful woman has some flaw or another when looked at from a certain angle. Today I see that saying was wrong — if she’s truly a peerless beauty, no matter how far or near you look, or from above or below, she’s perfect everywhere. Women who look like this — wherever they go, they’ll be surrounded by men bowing and scraping at their knees, completely conquered. And women in this world are mostly fickle anyway. No wonder that Prince Qin, even going to a godforsaken place like this, couldn’t bear to leave her at home. If it were me, I also wouldn’t feel at ease — I’d want her tied to my waistband wherever I went…”

As he spoke on and on, he noticed that the faces of the men across from him were changing color, their expressions growing strange. He thought they were frightened by his words and was just about to mock their timidity when a sudden searing pain shot through his back — he had been given a hard lash with a whip. The pain went deep into his bones, nearly knocking him clean off the ground. Furious, he whipped around. The one who had lashed him was the scarred man who served at Prince Qin’s side.

Not only that — Prince Qin was also standing not far away, at this moment giving this side a cold look.

Ye Xiao had been following Li Xuandu as they checked the area around the campsite and inspected the sentries. Passing by this spot, he had heard those words carried on the wind, and was instantly enraged. Without waiting for Li Xuandu’s order, he stepped forward immediately and delivered a heavy lash, and when the convict soldier turned to look at him, showed no mercy, raining down several more vicious lashes one after another.

The soldiers, caught in the act, were somewhat frightened, and exchanged glances with each other, one by one clambering off the felt mats and slowly sinking to their knees.

At first Zhang Zhuo had been so stunned by the lashing that he had prostrated himself on the ground. When he recovered, he wiped the scorching pain from his face and got a hand full of blood. Seeing his men all watching him, furious at having lost face, he hardened himself, his eyes flashing menacingly. He grabbed the whip, gritted his teeth, and snarled: “All right! What does it matter if someone doesn’t know what’s good for him? At worst it’s just one life — you think I’m afraid of you?!” and swung his fist savagely at Ye Xiao.

Ye Xiao had not anticipated this convict soldier’s ferocity, and unprepared, nearly took the hit, staggering back a step. He turned and saw Prince Qin walking toward this side with a grim expression, and quickly said: “Your Highness, please do not approach — you may be jostled. This villain has defied his superior and spoken impertinently; this subordinate will take his dog’s life right now, as a warning to others!”

Li Xuandu waved his hand, signaling him to step aside. He fixed his gaze on the convict soldier before him and said coldly: “You are Zhang Zhuo?”

Zhang Zhuo, seeing that even he knew his name, felt a trace of smugness, and drew himself up: “That’s right!”

Li Xuandu pressed together his index and middle fingers and flicked them toward him twice. It was a hand gesture commonly used when training dogs.

Zhang Zhuo did not understand at first, but quickly grasped the meaning.

This Prince Qin intended to step in personally and teach him a lesson himself?

Once he understood, Zhang Zhuo was not frightened — instead he was excited.

He was already a condemned man who had been given a reprieve only because he could be useful beyond the passes. One life was all it was — a scar on the neck the width of a bowl. If he could knock this Prince Qin flat in front of everyone, even if he died for it today, it would have been worth it!

He scrambled up off the ground and hurled himself forward.

Li Xuandu had been learning close-quarters wrestling from the palace’s finest guard captain since childhood. No matter how fierce and savage this brute was on the battlefield, how could he be a match for him in close combat? In a few moves he had already been thrown to the ground.

He pressed his five fingers into a tight fist and drove punch after punch downward, connecting with the man’s face.

The more ferociously the opponent fought back, the heavier his blows became, until Zhang Zhuo’s face was covered in blood and he gradually lost his strength.

Watching the blood that kept flowing from beneath his fists, Li Xuandu’s expression also became slightly contorted. Panting, teeth gritted, he said: “What did you just say? You roamed the capital in your younger days? Let me tell you — I used to run wild in the South Market too, rubbing shoulders with all kinds of people. A thing like you, who doesn’t know what’s good for it — in front of me — you dare to be so arrogant!”

“Thud” — another savage punch, crashing hard into Zhang Zhuo’s forehead. Where the fist landed, a large lump rose up, and blood kept pouring from the split skin.

Zhang Zhuo could no longer even feel pain — he only felt his head go “bzzt” once more, eyes seeing stars, his whole body like a fish pinned to a chopping block, the only thing he could do was open his mouth and breathe in great gulps of air.

Everyone watching was dumbstruck. They had never expected that the Zhang Zhuo, known for his ferocity, would be beaten completely helpless by this seemingly scholarly Prince Qin, his face pulverized beyond recognition, a sight too gruesome to look at straight on.

Li Xuandu’s right fist was still clenched tight. Seeing Zhang Zhuo had entirely stopped moving, he closed his eyes, let out a long, slow breath, opened them, and with one hand released the opponent who had been beaten into total submission. He rose from the ground.

The soldiers saw Prince Qin stand, and as his gaze swept over them in two sweeps, every one of them quailed. They all prostrated themselves on the ground, not daring to raise their heads.

Li Xuandu flexed his hand — only now did he feel the pain in his knuckles. He said to Ye Xiao: “Tie him up and put him on public display for three days, as a warning to the others!” That said, he turned and left.

Not far from the campsite, what was happening did not reach Pu Zhu at all. She had returned from her bath and, once her long hair had been dried by the warm night wind, sat down in the center of the tent. A’mu sat behind her, carefully combing through her long hair, her movements unimaginably gentle, not causing her the slightest tug or pain.

Around them it was quiet — so quiet it was as if you could hear the faint hiss of the comb gliding through the strands of hair.

Pu Zhu had a feeling that since A’mu had come back this time, she could barely bring herself to put Pu Zhu down, treating her like a treasure held in the palm of her hand. This made Pu Zhu feel very fortunate, and also a little heartbroken for her.

“A’mu, I’m fine now — you go rest too…”

Pu Zhu took the comb from A’mu’s hand and combed through her own hair. She turned her face and suddenly stopped short.

Li Xuandu was standing at the entrance of the tent, apparently watching her comb her hair — he had not made a single sound.

Since the sand was fine and soft, his footsteps had been silent too. She hadn’t even noticed when he had returned.

A’Ju also saw him, put down the comb, smiled, bowed slightly, and withdrew.

Only then did Pu Zhu notice that the hem of his outer garment was covered with quite a bit of sand.

It had already been a long time since he had asked her to help him change his clothes.

So she sat there and watched him slowly take off his outer garment himself, shake it at the tent entrance, shake off the sand, walk in and set it down, pick up the kettle, and casually reach for her cup to pour some water.

He looked very thirsty. Her tea cup was small, and he drained cup after cup of water in a row, the cup going up and down, up and down. Pu Zhu then saw that the skin on the knuckles of his right hand was broken in several places, with threads of blood still seeping out. She asked: “What happened to your hand?”

He put down the tea cup and shook his head, saying it was nothing, that he had accidentally scraped it. At the same time he moved that hand behind his back, as if he didn’t want her to look at it further.

Pu Zhu felt something was off about him.

But then, when they were alone together recently, he had always seemed a little strange somehow.

Since the night at the Fulu relay station, Pu Zhu had made peace with things, and found herself a new goal. She truly felt she was happier than before. Perhaps it was because A’mu had come back, but she was also smiling more. He, however, was her opposite.

He was never a talkative person to begin with, but recently he had been growing even more silent, as if he had something on his mind. Pu Zhu had sometimes noticed him looking at her, as if lost in thought, but the moment she looked back at him, he would immediately shift his gaze away.

She had grown somewhat accustomed to it, so she didn’t ask much about it — she just set down the comb, took a small medicine case she always kept with her, and beckoned to him: “Come here.”

He walked over.

“Sit down.”

He sat cross-legged.

Pu Zhu knelt and sat beside him, told him to extend his hand and rest it on her knee, and applied some medicine to the broken skin on the back of his hand. She was thinking of getting out a bandage to wrap it up a little to keep the ointment from getting everywhere, when the back of her hand suddenly grew warm. She looked down and saw that he had taken hold of her hand.

She raised her eyes to look at him.

He seemed to have only then startled into awareness; his fingers loosened their grip slightly, and she gently slipped her hand out from under his palm and continued to take out a roll of fine gauze bandage. She cut a suitable length with small scissors and was in the middle of measuring it when she suddenly heard Li Xuandu ask: “Zhuzhu, why are you so set on becoming Empress?”

Pu Zhu’s hands stilled. She slowly raised her eyes and saw him looking at her.

Candlelight was reflected in his pupils, flickering faintly.

In his eyes, Pu Zhu seemed also to see her own tiny, shrunken reflection.

“When I first knew you, you racked your brains to seduce the Crown Prince. Then, by a twist of fate, you married me, and you set your heart on pressuring me to usurp the throne…”

“Your family met disaster when you were young, and you drifted to He Xi, suffering much hardship. So you pursue power — you want to possess the highest status?”

Pu Zhu was silent for a moment. She snipped the bandage, continued wrapping his injured hand, then raised her eyes.

“In your eyes, power is like dung and dirt. In the eyes of the Grand Empress Dowager, it is responsibility and a shackle. But for me… stable power is like medicine that makes me feel at peace.”

She laughed, her tone light, as if joking: “Your Highness, you’re going to look down on me again, aren’t you?”

Li Xuandu slowly shook his head.

“I have no right to look down on you. When I was eight or nine years old, I had never experienced a few days of not having enough to eat, never had to go dig for roots in the ground. I had never experienced washing clothes in an icy river until my hands were covered with chilblains. At that age, I was favored by the Emperor my father, doing whatever I pleased. Whatever in the world I wanted, I had. What right do I have to look down on you?”

Pu Zhu gazed at him for a moment, suppressing the sudden impulse that welled up in her heart to cry, and said softly: “Thank you, Your Highness. I also should not have deceived you and pressured you like that before.”

Li Xuandu rubbed his forehead and said: “Forget it — it’s in the past, there’s no need to bring it up anymore.”

The tent fell silent. Neither of them spoke again.

“Zhuzhu…”

After a moment, Li Xuandu finally opened his mouth again and called her name quietly. He saw her beautiful eyes gazing at him, but then a look of unease flickered across his face, and he hesitated for a long time, and in the end changed course: “The soldiers picked up at Yumen Gate are none of them good people. Starting tomorrow, be careful and keep your distance from them. When I have time, I’ll teach you some techniques for self-defense. Out here in a land beyond the law, it’s always better to be more careful.”

Pu Zhu’s eyes brightened: “Really?”

Li Xuandu recalled what had happened that evening, suppressed the surge of displeasure that rose in his heart, and nodded: “Yes, I’ll teach you.”

Pu Zhu immediately beamed: “Thank you, Your Highness!”