After more than half a year, Hua Zhi found herself in that village again, face to face with Chen Tu. Unlike before, when she had known nothing, this time she only needed to see the way he treated Yanxi to understand that this man was most likely one of the Seven Lodges Bureau.

After a meal that was not exactly a feast for the eyes or the palate but was at least reasonably substantial, Hua Zhi rose from her seat. “You two talk. I’m going to rest.”

Gu Yanxi picked up the teapot and followed her inside. He filled a cup and placed it in her hands. “You ate too little.”

“The jolting was bad — I didn’t have much of an appetite.” Hua Zhi smiled. “Half the dishes were vegetables. That was thoughtful. Thank you on my behalf.”

“Rest well. We’ll set out early tomorrow and try to reach Yinshan Pass the day after.”

“Alright.”

Gu Yanxi gently ruffled her hair, then turned and left the room.

Outside, Chen Tu was waiting. The two of them fell into step, one ahead of the other, and went to the side room.

Chen Tu offered a proper salute. “This subordinate greets the leader.”

“Rise.” Gu Yanxi took a seat at the table. “You came all the way from Yinshan Pass when you received word?”

“Yes.”

Gu Yanxi gave a nod. “There’s no need for that next time. Prepare things thoroughly every six months and leave it at that — from here on, consider this place a base of operations.”

Now that A’Zhi knew his identity, there was no need for elaborate pretense. And given A’Zhi’s perceptiveness, she had likely already seen through Chen Tu’s identity the moment she set foot in this place today.

“Has there been any movement on Gu Chengde’s end?”

“Yes. Last month there were two separate assassination attempts against him. This subordinate has confirmed — one group was dispatched by the Second Prince, the other by His Majesty himself.”

This was not the first time the Emperor had sent people to kill the son he had once placed such great hopes in. Gu Yanxi was unsurprised. The Second Prince’s involvement, however, gave him a moment’s pause. He had not expected him to hold back this long. He had assumed the Second Prince would make his move the moment the eldest prince was sent into exile.

He had grown sharper.

“Tell me the situation there.”

“Yes.” Chen Tu had his account well prepared, and now delivered it in a steady, measured voice: “As you anticipated, the eldest prince assumed that it was General Wu who was protecting him. This subordinate communicated with General Wu, who went along with it, playing the role — and even arranged a meeting with the eldest prince. When the eldest prince sought further meetings afterward, General Wu declined with various excuses. The eldest prince understood that he wished to avoid deeper entanglement, and stopped seeking him out. The man who arrived at the eldest prince’s side two months ago has not left since. This subordinate has been unable to determine his identity.”

“Someone from the capital, without a doubt. No one is foolish enough to openly defy the Emperor’s displeasure by pledging loyalty to Gu Chengde at a time like this. As for the unknown identity — what difficulty is there?” A faint curve touched Gu Yanxi’s lips. He could reach into his sleeve and produce ten or eight such persons at will.

Chen Tu bowed and continued: “This subordinate has had men keeping close watch on those several military commanders. On the surface, they appear to have no connection with one another — some even seem to be on poor terms. But as you anticipated, they have their own private channel of communication. The trouble is, they trust no one outside their small circle and admit no newcomers. Thus far, nothing of use has been uncovered.”

Gu Yanxi tapped the tabletop lightly. If they would let no one in, then he would give them someone they already believed to be their own. This matter would have to wait until he returned to arrange. “Continue.”

“Yes.” Chen Tu kept his gaze down. “General Wu has extended his trust to the Hua Family. The old Hua official has devised a series of measures to assist the general in managing Yinshan Pass more rigorously, and four days ago they began closing the net. One sweep pulled in fourteen spies. General Wu was outraged and dispatched a report to the capital by fast courier — it should reach His Majesty’s desk within a few days.”

Gu Yanxi’s attention sharpened. “Do you know whether the report makes any mention of the Hua Family?”

“This subordinate does not know. But the matter was not concealed within Yinshan Pass — all ranks are aware of it.”

Wu Yong was a shrewd man. He likely made the mention. This credit was neither small nor large, yet it was enough to demonstrate that even in exile, the Hua Family continued to serve the Da Qing dynasty faithfully and diligently. The Emperor would not restore their positions on account of this alone — but it might at least kindle a favorable impression of the Hua Family in his mind.

“There is one more matter. This subordinate only received word of it yesterday.”

Gu Yanxi raised an eyebrow. “Speak.”

“Yes. Chen Feng, who was sent to the grasslands beyond the passes, dispatched a messenger to this subordinate yesterday. He reports that there has been no rain on the grasslands for three months. The pastures have sustained severe damage, and sandstorms are worse than in previous years. Precautions need to be taken.”

“Has Wu Yong been informed?”

“Yes.”

Flooding to the south, drought to the north. Gu Yanxi rose and paced a few slow turns. “Support Chen Feng properly. If trouble breaks out, have him withdraw at once. The rest falls to Wu Yong. In addition — deploy someone into Bingzhou to keep watch. First, prevent civil unrest. Second, observe how the officials of Bingzhou are conducting themselves.”

“Yes. This subordinate will make arrangements immediately.” Chen Tu had not seen the leader in half a year, and though certain matters had already been reported to the Seven Lodges Bureau, he now took the opportunity to relay them in careful detail in person. Some particulars had not made it into the written reports. The leader had a habit of spotting problems in small details, and with this rare chance to speak face to face, Chen Tu was not about to let it pass.

The conversation stretched well into the night. Yet by the time Hua Zhi woke early the next morning, Gu Yanxi had already completed a full set of practice forms.

Yinshan Pass was close now. But the closer they drew, the more urgent the feeling in her chest — and yet somehow, it always felt as though they were never quite arriving.

To guard against the wind and sand, Hua Zhi had put on a veil hat, while Gu Yanxi pulled a hood low over his face. The others wrapped their heads entirely, leaving only a narrow slit for their eyes. It was stifling, but riding into the wind, the force of the sand was simply too fierce to bear without protection.

It was in this state — by dusk on the second day — that they finally reached Yinshan Pass. The coverings came off, and Gu Yanxi signaled his subordinates to go present their travel documents. The guard who stepped forward, however, did not take the papers. Instead he looked at Hua Zhi — her veil hat removed now, her face carrying traces of exhaustion and the road — and said: “The Hua Family’s young lady came by before the new year. I was given some frostbite ointment by her. I remember her.”

Gu Yanxi glanced at A’Zhi, who had clearly not expected this either. This person — she had probably long forgotten that she had given someone anything.

Hua Zhi had already gathered herself. “Did the ointment help?”

“Very much. It spared us a great deal of suffering. My thanks to you, young lady.”

Hua Zhi smiled. “I’m glad it was useful. Our family’s wagon train is still a few days behind us — they’re bringing quite a bit. When they arrive, I’ll see that you get more. Share it among your brothers.”

“That would be wonderful! I thank you on behalf of my brothers.” The soldier was visibly delighted, and the few men beside him clasped their hands in gratitude as well.

Yinshan Pass’s city gate saw less traffic than the bustling entrances of city markets, but still there were people coming and going. Hearing that this was the Hua Family’s young lady, passersby slowed their steps and turned to look. The Hua Family’s name rang out well and loud in Yinshan Pass these days. Anyone who lived here would be hard-pressed to say they hadn’t benefited from the Hua Family in some way. Never mind the rest — just the marketplace alone had been transformed. It was so orderly and clean now that people found themselves wanting to beat the dust from their own clothes before stepping inside.

Hua Zhi gave no sign of noticing those looks. The moment the soldier waved them through, she urged her horse forward into the city. Inside the walls, full galloping was not allowed, but a brisk trot drew no one’s complaint.

Back home, she hadn’t felt the pull so keenly — when she thought of it, she thought of it and let it pass. But the closer they drew, the stronger the drumbeat in her chest grew, the more vivid and pressing the longing became, until it felt as though the destination was always just out of reach.