Speaking of his grandfather, Xie Zhifei’s pitch-black eyes held a different light—like a small flame that ignited then instantly extinguished.
“Old General Zheng Yu’s life had three great events worth mentioning.”
“Which three?”
“The first was during the previous Emperor’s reign, when he assisted Prince Zhao in the campaign against the Mongols. Oh yes, Prince Zhao is the current Emperor.”
After speaking, Xie Zhifei immediately looked at Yan Sanhe’s face. To his surprise, not a trace of extra emotion showed.
“Aren’t you curious how Prince Zhao ascended to the throne?”
Yan Sanhe used her foot to push aside a dead branch on the ground.
“Before my grandfather passed, he mentioned that Prince Zhao’s ascension came about because the former Crown Prince used witchcraft against the previous Emperor. After the incident was exposed, the Crown Prince was deposed, and the throne passed to Prince Zhao.”
“Exactly right!”
Xie Zhifei continued, “Precisely because of that campaign, the sovereign and subject forged a deep bond. After Prince Zhao inherited the throne, the Zheng family’s status rose accordingly.”
Yan Sanhe asked, “The second event?”
“You know this one—the Yonghe third year war between Hua Kingdom and Great Qi. Zheng Yu was the commander-in-chief.”
Xie Zhifei explained, “This campaign lasted two years with countless difficulties, but ultimately returned victorious. The Emperor was overjoyed and rewarded Zheng Yu with a golden cup. In the end, sovereign and subject became drunk together.”
“It seems…”
Yan Sanhe sighed, “The Zheng family’s imperial favor was all won by Zheng Yu through risking his life on battlefields.”
“For military officers to secure titles and honor for wives and children, they can only rely on military merit—only by wearing their heads at their waists.”
Xie Zhifei looked down at Yan Sanhe.
“As the saying goes, troubled times produce heroes. All those who march to war dislike warfare, but when battle truly comes, they stake their lives, because only thus can they establish illustrious achievements. Deserters are truly the minority.”
“What about the third event?”
“This matter…”
Xie Zhifei’s steps involuntarily slowed, pain flashing across his face momentarily. “…concerns how the Old General died!”
Yan Sanhe knew Zheng Yu died on the battlefield.
But she had never heard anyone explain the full circumstances.
“In summer of Yonghe fifth year, Tatar forces killed our Hua Kingdom’s envoys. The Emperor was furious and dispatched Great General Song Zhiyu on campaign.
“In winter of Yonghe sixth year, Song Zhiyu was defeated. Of a hundred thousand troops, only twenty thousand remnants remained. When news reached the capital, the entire nation was shocked. Thus Prince Han requested to go to war.”
“Wait.”
Yan Sanhe couldn’t help interrupting. “Prince Han—is he the one who’s your sworn enemy?”
“Ai-ya, my little ancestor!”
Pei Xiao nearly rushed forward to cover her mouth, stamping his foot. “This matter can only be understood tacitly, never spoken aloud. You must never mention it before outsiders.”
Am I that stupid?
There are just too many princes—I wanted to confirm.
Yan Sanhe glared at him.
She glared at me!
She glared at me!
My heart…
Is pounding wildly!
Pei Xiao quickly turned around, clutching his chest and gasping for breath.
What’s wrong with this person?
Yan Sanhe frowned. “Xie Zhifei, continue.”
“So in spring of Yonghe seventh year, the Emperor dispatched Prince Han as commander-in-chief with Old General Zheng Yu as deputy commander, campaigning again against the Tatars.”
Xie Zhifei bit his jaw, suppressing the surging blood qi.
“Unfortunately, this time the Old General never returned. He died in battle in Yonghe eighth year, eleventh month.”
“Wait again!”
Yan Sanhe’s expression turned cold, her tone serious.
“The campaign began in Yonghe seventh year. The Zheng family tragedy occurred in Yonghe eighth year, seventh month. The Old General died in the eleventh month. Did the Old General know his entire family was already gone?”
Xie Zhifei replied, “He shouldn’t have known.”
Yan Sanhe’s brow pressed down. “Why?”
“With the decisive battle against the Tatars imminent, the Emperor and Ministry of War would certainly conceal this matter to prevent disturbing military morale. Everything would wait until the Old General returned victorious.”
Xie Zhifei added, “This is the rule of warfare.”
Under normal circumstances, Yan Sanhe would likely curse: What kind of ridiculous rule is this—completely lacking humanity.
But at this moment, she suddenly felt this rule was quite good. At least Old General Zheng died without suffering the pain of arrows piercing his heart.
“Did we win this war?”
“We won.”
Prince Han returned triumphant; the Old General’s soul returned to his homeland.
Xie Zhifei smiled coldly. “I was thinking—this must be fate’s will at work!”
The atmosphere suddenly grew heavy. Combined with the surrounding weeds and trees taller than people, Pei Xiao just wanted to leave this cursed place quickly.
“Yan Sanhe, do you have any other questions?”
“Yes. Xie Zhifei…”
Yan Sanhe turned her head. The second half of her sentence suddenly caught in her throat.
The man beside her had a slightly bent spine that was usually straight, his face pale, his forehead covered in a dense layer of sweat—as if completely drained.
“Are you unwell?” she asked.
“Having some difficulty breathing.”
Xie Zhifei turned around and forcefully struck his chest several times.
Nine years.
This was his first time standing on these ruins of the Zheng family, his first time telling anyone about the Zheng family members’ details—that pain seeping into bone and blood erupted like scalding lava.
Eldest Zheng, Second Zheng, Third Zheng…
Lady Xiao, Lady Xu, Lady Lin…
To him, these weren’t cold names but living, breathing people who had once appeared in his life.
Those who died—found release in death.
Those who lived—suffered fates worse than death!
—
“Xie Wushi, you’re not possessed by ghosts, are you!”
Pei Xiao hurriedly pulled out a string of Five Emperor Coins from his breast and stuffed them into Xie Zhifei’s hand. “Quick, hold these—ward off evil!”
Xie Zhifei looked at his anxious expression with disgust. “Weren’t they unblessed?”
“Blessed, blessed—blessed just this morning.”
Pei Xiao raised his chin. “Fifty recitations of the Diamond Sutra. I watched that monk chant every single word.”
Yan Sanhe’s voice was flat. “Five Emperor Coins only work on ordinary spirits. Against vengeful ghosts who died unjustly, they’re useless.”
“What, what, what are you saying?”
“So many people died tragic deaths in this residence…”
Yan Sanhe looked around, then fixed her gaze on Pei Xiao.
Pei Xiao’s legs began trembling under her stare, his voice also trembling. “Why, why, why are you looking at me like that?”
“Someone seems to be standing behind you!”
“Ahhh—”
After one scream, Yan Sanhe saw the figure before her flash and disappear. Looking down…
The man had already jumped onto Xie Zhifei’s back, clutching tightly.
Yan Sanhe winked at Xie Zhifei: Lord Xie, your brother seems rather easily frightened!
Xie Zhifei suppressed a smile: Don’t scare him—his courage is smaller than a mouse’s.
“Pei Mingting, get down.”
“Wh-what for?”
Yan Sanhe grabbed and pulled him down. Before he could steady himself, her finger suddenly pressed against Pei Xiao’s brow.
“The spirit medium will bless you.”
Pei Xiao felt a chill travel from his brow straight downward.
After an involuntary shudder, he suddenly felt his legs weren’t weak anymore, his body wasn’t trembling, and everything before him seemed bright.
Yan Sanhe withdrew her finger, her head tilting as she looked at Xie Zhifei with a half-smile. “Want me to bless you too?”
Xie Zhifei startled, asking, “After blessing, will I fear neither gods nor ghosts?”
“After my blessing, not only will you fear neither gods nor ghosts, your body will feel comfortable and your mood pleasant.”
He instantly understood—what blessing? This girl was using Pei Xiao to cheer him up!
When someone usually cold occasionally revealed a hint of warmth, it was more comforting than drinking a pot of scalding wine in deep winter.
Mm!
Xie Zhifei felt himself come alive again.