Shen Zhuxi had a nightmare.

Xiangyang fell. Flames lit the sky. The Liao army stormed into the city, burning, killing, and looting. One by one, the people she knew died before her eyes — and yet, just as she had been during the fall of the imperial palace, she was completely powerless.

In the dream, she cried herself dry. Her voice went hoarse from screaming.

She was the only one left alive.

Amid a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, a figure was walking forward, holding a severed head aloft. She thought it was Li Wu returning in triumph. She cried out his name over and over and ran toward him — until at last he stopped and turned around, and it was a face of cold, noble refinement.

“Zhuxi, why did you betray me?” he said softly.

The head he held was Li Wu’s.

An icy chill surged to the marrow of her bones. Shen Zhuxi jolted awake in an instant.

The room was dimly lit. A gentle moonlight filtered in through the half-open window, casting a pale silver band of light through the air.

Li Wu was watching her from within that band of light. His thumb, dusted with her tear, drew back from the corner of her eye. He said softly:

“A bad dream?”

Shen Zhuxi looked at him in a daze, the violent pounding of her heart slowly settling.

Only a dream.

It could only ever be a dream.

“…What time is it?” When she spoke, her voice came out ragged and hoarse.

“You’ve slept a full day and night,” Li Wu said.

Shen Zhuxi was startled and moved to sit up urgently. “Xiangyang —”

“It’s alright now.” Li Wu pressed down on her shoulder and eased her back onto the bed. “You held Xiangyang.”

“I…”

Shen Zhuxi could not go on. Her vision blurred with tears that came with surviving what should not have been survived.

She had done it.

She had stopped the tragedy from repeating itself. She had truly done it!

“You did well.” Li Wu once again lightly wiped away the tears spilling from the corner of her eye with his thumb, and said quietly, “No one could have done better than you.”

Shen Zhuxi moved her fingers and felt something odd. She raised both hands and found that all ten fingers were wrapped in clean bandaging.

Li Wu had clearly tended to her hands while she slept.

He was dressed in everyday clothes, as though he had not slept all night.

She had somehow fallen into a deep sleep the night before on her return from the battlefield, after days and nights without closing her eyes. She had not yet had the chance to ask how he had made it back, or whether he had been wounded.

The thought made her heart seize with urgency. She said anxiously, “Were you hurt?”

“Just a minor wound.”

Li Wu drew aside his collar, revealing a scar as fine as a thread.

Though it was only a surface wound — minor, as far as he was concerned — at a place like that, it must have been a desperately close call. One small turn of fate, and it might have been fatal on the spot.

Shen Zhuxi couldn’t help reaching out to touch it. “How did this happen?”

“When I was bringing Shangzhou under control, I used the Zhen Chuan military tally as bait and feigned surrender. At the welcoming banquet, I killed the treasonous commander, Huo Siguang — this is what was left from that.”

“…It was very dangerous?” Shen Zhuxi said, a face full of worry.

“On anyone else, it would have been dangerous. For me, it was easy.” Li Wu said, making light of it. “You brought honor to me — could I really afford to let you down?”

“Since you took the military tally, the Zhen Chuan military commissioner…”

Li Wu did not answer directly, but his silent, steady gaze made the answer plain.

“Xiangzhou borrowed so much grain and silver — why was there still…”

“The laborers working on the weir did receive their allotted rations,” Li Wu said. “But most of those rations never made it into their own stomachs.”

Shen Zhuxi looked at him, confused.

“The laborers set aside the daily rations they received to bring home to their wives and children, willing to go hungry themselves after a full day of exhausting work. As the laborers on the weir kept dying from overexertion, one after another — when the toll finally crossed a certain threshold — it set off a full-scale uprising. Huo Siguang had long harbored resentment against Xu You. He seized the moment and raised the banner of revolt, rapidly seizing control of Shangzhou.”

Shen Zhuxi was left speechless, her chest heavy.

Xu You had not been a corrupt official, and time had proven him right to push the work schedule as hard as he did. The rainy season arrived on cue, and the Shang River Weir had been completed before the river swelled — saving countless lives.

And yet Xu You had died because of it.

He had never been a tyrant, yet he had met a tyrant’s end.

Such is the nature of time. Such is the nature of fate.

“Shen Dunce…” Li Wu held her injured right hand and said quietly, “I’m sorry. I was late.”

“You made it in time.” Shen Zhuxi shook her head. Her left hand’s fingertips rested on the wound at Li Wu’s neck. “You were not late at all.”

This wound was proof of his effort — at the cost of his own life, he had returned to Xiangyang as quickly as he possibly could.

To survive the jaws of death and still have the chance to be reunited as a family — that was the greatest blessing heaven could bestow.

“Do you blame me for not making it back sooner to reinforce Xiangyang?”

Shen Zhuxi said, surprised: “Why would I blame you? If you had rushed back recklessly, then all those military texts I copied out for you — wouldn’t they have been written for nothing?”

With Xiangyang surrounded, no one inside the city could have gotten out even with wings. Even if Li Wu had wanted to return and reinforce them, how could he have managed it?

Two thousand exhausted Xiangzhou soldiers against a minimum of seventy thousand well-rested Liao troops — the prospect would have been bleak not only for an open battle in the field, but even for breaking through the encirclement to get into the city.

And if they had sent a single rider to break through, even if one man made it inside, the Liao army would grow alert and tighten their blockade — adding only one more fish trapped in the barrel.

More than that — the Liao army was savage. Each time they won, they would go on rampages of burning, killing, and plundering, seizing the homes of the wealthy and taking beautiful women by force. For Shen Zhuxi to have abandoned the people of this city — people who trusted her with their whole hearts, who had fought alongside her — and run away, how could she have done it?

Li Wu was quiet for a moment, then said: “When will this chaotic age finally see an end?”

“The false emperor is dead. The realm will be united before long,” Shen Zhuxi said in consolation.

Yet in her heart, she was not so sure.

With the false emperor dead, would the world truly become peaceful?

“…I hope so.” Li Wu tightened his grip on her hand. “When the realm is settled, I’ll ask the Emperor of Yan to post me somewhere with clear mountains and peaceful waters. We’ll be a pair of happy country strongholds, living just like the fat ducks in the pond — eating when we feel like eating, drinking when we feel like drinking, sleeping when we feel like sleeping — no morning roll calls, no worrying about anyone raiding us. Whatever you want to do, I’ll be there with you.”

Shen Zhuxi couldn’t help smiling at the picture he painted. She said:

“Alright. When the realm is at peace, I’ll be a pair of country strongholds with you.”

Their eyes met. Li Wu broke into a grin, and Shen Zhuxi found herself smiling along with him before she knew it.

A shy warmth rushed into her heart. She looked away and tried to push herself up and off the bed.

“What are you doing?” Li Wu steadied her and helped her sit up.

“I haven’t bathed in days. I want to…” Shen Zhuxi glanced down and suddenly realized she was wearing only her undergarments.

Shen Zhuxi’s eyes went wide as she looked up at Li Wu.

“It was Tiang who wiped you down,” Li Wu said, raising an eyebrow. “Without your consent, I wouldn’t dare take your clothes off.”

Shen Zhuxi breathed a sigh of relief.

“I want to go to the bathhouse and wash…”

Li Wu helped her to her feet. Shen Zhuxi took a few steps — and he was still following along.

“You don’t need to walk me there. I’ll call Tiang,” Shen Zhuxi said, startled.

“Who said I was walking you there?” Li Wu said. “We’re going the same way. I haven’t bathed either — might as well wash together.”

Shen Zhuxi doubted her own ears.

“The bath pool is very large. Adding one more person won’t make it crowded.” Li Wu was perfectly composed and utterly serious. “Xiangyang just barely survived a great battle — we should be conserving everything. If we wash in the same pool, we save —”

“You come in after I’m done!” Shen Zhuxi cut him off, face burning red. She shoved him in the chest and fled from the bedroom as if running for her life.

Li Wu watched Shen Zhuxi’s retreating figure and clicked his tongue twice in a show of regret.

“Sensible when she shouldn’t be, then completely senseless when she should be. One of these days… I’m going to take you apart and swallow you whole.”

A dozen jet-black horses came to a stop before a grand estate with tall gates.

The man at their head dismounted, clutching a wooden box, and entered through the main gate with a brisk, urgent step.

The wooden box passed through several hands before it finally came to rest on Fu Xuanmiao’s desk.

Yanhui carefully unlatched the iron lock and lifted the lid. The false emperor’s head lay quietly inside the box. The blood at the severed edge had long since dried, faded into several dark streaks the color of dirty water.

Several odor-absorbing, desiccating medicinal herbs filled the space between the head and the walls of the box. Inside the box, the false emperor’s eyes were wide open — unable to close even in death — his final expression one of terror, frozen on his face.

“It truly is the false emperor.” Yanhui looked at Fu Xuanmiao in astonishment.

He had originally thought the false emperor would ultimately die at the hands of their young master. The last thing he had expected was that the obscure prefect of Xiangzhou would, entirely by chance, actually manage to execute him.

Fu Xuanmiao sat at the table in a cool blue robe with a gold sash, his dark hair pinned with a jade hairpin, his expression impassive.

The pallid moonlight entered through the window on the left, draping across his slender, upright shoulders like a gossamer of pristine white silk. Fu Xuanmiao’s unreadable gaze rested on the false emperor’s vacant, glassy pupils, and he said quietly:

“…Send it to my father.”

A glance from Yanhui, and from behind the curtain stepped a maidservant as still and silent as a wooden figure. She received the wooden box with careful hands, turned, and walked out of the study.

An hour later, someone came to report from outside — Fu Ruzhi had arrived.

Fu Xuanmiao rose and went out to receive him. Yanhui, reading the room, quietly withdrew from the study.

“Father —”

Just as Fu Xuanmiao was about to kneel in greeting, Fu Ruzhi stepped forward first and raised him up.

“Chanyu need not stand on ceremony.”

Fu Xuanmiao knew why his father had come, yet he kept up the appearance of knowing nothing, ushered him into the study, and said respectfully: “Father, your expression looks urgent. What has happened?”

“The Xiangzhou prefect, Li Zhuzong, slew the false emperor from horseback. Just now, the false emperor’s head arrived at the residence along with a letter from the Xiangzhou prefect. After confirming its authenticity, I have already presented it to His Majesty.”

Fu Xuanmiao frowned. “So it is truly true.”

“When the news reached Hangzhou a few days ago, I still assumed it was a misreport. I never imagined the false emperor was truly killed in person by Li Zhuzong. His Majesty was overjoyed upon hearing it, and spoke repeatedly of wanting to richly reward this man.” Fu Ruzhi’s expression was grave. “Had I not clearly stated the risks and counseled at length, the decree of reward would already have been issued.”

“How did His Majesty intend to reward him?”

“His Majesty wished to summon him to the imperial presence before deciding. In my estimation, the minimum would be a title of General Who Pacifies the Realm.”

“That would likely not sit well with others,” Fu Xuanmiao said quietly.

“Indeed. This man’s killing of the false emperor was entirely accidental — one might even say the false emperor practically walked into his hands himself. If this man were extravagantly rewarded, officials of equivalent rank would certainly take offense. I advised His Majesty to follow the established customs of Great Yan and grant rewards in accordance with regulations — but His Majesty took it as a sign of ill intent on my part. Though I ultimately dissuaded His Majesty from making an excessive reward, it left the meeting between ruler and subject on an unpleasant note.” Fu Ruzhi let out a sigh and said with resignation, “His Majesty has been listening to the slander of others and has grown considerably estranged from our Fu family.”

“Even when the Late Emperor was on the throne, he used others’ hands to suppress the Fu family on multiple occasions. His Majesty acting in this way —” Fu Xuanmiao’s expression was placid. “Is simply a continuation of the same lineage.”

“…The false emperor broke into the capital, and His Majesty fled south in haste. Along the way he came close to death time and again — and it was our Fu family that held the realm together, negotiating and managing affairs within and without. His Majesty has not long been on the throne and his foundation is not yet firm. If we truly harbored intentions of turning the world upside down, would we have waited until now?” Fu Ruzhi said. “When I examine my own conscience, I have never harbored a single disloyal thought — toward His Majesty, or toward the Late Emperor… I, Fu Ruzhi, have a clear conscience.”

Fu Xuanmiao lowered his gaze and said quietly: “Father’s loyalty is beyond reproach. It is only unfortunate that His Majesty cannot see it clearly.”

“Let it go…” Fu Ruzhi looked troubled and unwilling to pursue the topic further. He looked up at Fu Xuanmiao and said: “Li Zhuzong has rendered great merit this time. How do you think the reward should be handled?”

“If the reward is too heavy, it carries the appearance of treating law and precedent as worthless. If it is too light, it chills the hearts of those who have served with merit.” Fu Xuanmiao said. “What does Father think of the position of Zhen Chuan Military Commissioner?”

“Excellent!” Fu Ruzhi said. “Li Zhuzong is currently serving as prefect of Xiangzhou. Promoting him to Zhen Chuan Military Commissioner would be an exceptional promotion, yet still within reason. After what happened with Xu You, a suitable candidate for Zhen Chuan Military Commissioner has been difficult to find. Placing Li Zhuzong in that vacancy resolves both dilemmas at once. I’ll write a memorial this very evening and submit it to His Majesty.”

“Father.” Chanyu rose and called out to Fu Ruzhi just as he was about to leave.

Fu Ruzhi paused and looked back at him with concern. “Is there something else, Chanyu?”

“After the realm is reunified, I wish to use the power of the imperial proclamation boards to conduct a thorough search for the Princess of Yue in every prefecture and every county. His Majesty’s suspicion of our Fu family runs deep, and he was never willing for this marriage to come to pass in the first place — I fear he will not readily agree. When the time comes, I will need Father’s assistance.”

Fu Ruzhi looked at him steadily, and said with quiet firmness, “In all matters, your father can yield. In this matter alone… rest assured. This, I will persuade His Majesty to agree to. Whether in life or in death, the Princess of Yue is the daughter-in-law our Fu family has chosen.”

Fu Ruzhi’s expression shifted — the gaze that settled on the person before him, this flawless piece of jade from the Kunshan mountains, softened gradually, and a trace of sorrow flickered across it.

This was his only child.

This was the greatest pride of his life’s work.

If he were to say there was anything left worth living for, it was that he had raised with his own hands a son of renown, of virtue pure as jade and steadfast as pine — the foremost young man under heaven.

He had watched him grow, and longed to see him marry, have children, and possess the happiness that he himself had never known.

“Chanyu… you are your father’s only child.” Fu Ruzhi said, his expression resolute, enunciating each word with deliberate weight. “Your father will not allow you to repeat the same fate.”