Zhang Kui brewed tea and placed it on the small table. After his gaze swept over Yan Sanhe once, he lifted the curtain and walked out of the tent.

How strange.

This thin, small girl sat facing the General, yet didn’t appear weak at all. On the contrary, the General’s eyes looked somewhat hollow.

Bu Liu wasn’t just hollow—his heart was pounding like drums.

He was a military general who never believed in supernatural things. Even when the war horses had problems, he remained skeptical.

However, when the Zheng family’s wrongful case was announced to the realm and half the war horses came back to life, he finally realized many things existed in this world—they just couldn’t be seen with the naked eye.

“Miss Yan, ask me anything. I…”

“General Bu.”

Yan Sanhe interrupted him: “Do you know what I’ve come to ask?”

“I know. Brother Zhu said—to ask about Old General’s past.”

“Then… why must I ask about Old General’s past?”

“For the Zheng family’s wrongful case, for the other half of the war horses.”

“Wrong.”

Yan Sanhe leaned forward, her gaze pressing down: “It’s to investigate… Old General’s true cause of death!”

Bu Liu’s hand shook. The tea cup fell to the ground.

“Miss Yan, you, what did you just say?”

“Investigate the true cause of Old General’s death in battle.”

Bu Liu squeezed out a sentence with difficulty from his throat: “Dy-dying in battle still has a cause?”

Yan Sanhe: “Yes!”

Bu Liu stiffened like wood, taking a long time to find his voice.

“Miss Yan, ask away. Old General’s kindness to me was as heavy as mountains. I won’t conceal anything.”

“In the seventh year of Yonghe, in the battle with the Tatars, what position did you hold in the army then?”

Bu Liu had received Zhu Qing’s message and hadn’t closed his eyes since, carefully going over all the old matters.

“That year I served as Vice Captain in the Bu Family Army, commanding a cavalry unit of three hundred men, responsible for gathering intelligence and surveying terrain—essentially the vanguard.”

“Seventh year of Yonghe, the great army departed for the northern territories. Fifteenth of the seventh month in the eighth year of Yonghe, the Zheng family was massacred. Eleventh month of the eighth year of Yonghe, the General died on the battlefield.”

Yan Sanhe: “Bu Liu, is this timeline correct?”

Bu Liu: “Miss Yan, completely correct.”

“Then we’ll follow this timeline and ask one by one.”

Yan Sanhe: “Seventh year of Yonghe—the court had so many capable people. Why did the Late Emperor specifically send Old General Zheng Yu on this campaign?”

“Miss Yan, this story is very long.”

“Then give the long story short.”

Even abbreviated, it needed a beginning and end.

The matter had to be traced back to the summer of the fifth year of Yonghe. That summer, the Late Emperor sent an envoy to the Tatars in the north to discuss border matters.

The Tatars were a nomadic people who lived on horseback.

In the northern territories, half the twelve months of the year were winter. Nothing—no wheat, no rice—could grow.

The north lacked food and drink. To survive, the Tatars often came to rob the Hua Kingdom borders.

They typically came like a gust of wind, robbed, and left like a gust of wind. Forget catching them—they were even difficult to defend against.

The northern people suffered terribly from their torment and could only seek help from the court.

The envoy that year was named Jiang Fu.

Jiang Fu had passed the jinshi examination and later became an official in the Ministry of Rites. This person’s essays were excellent, his eloquence even better—he could compose verse extemporaneously.

He was also extremely smooth in dealing with people—saying human words to humans, ghost words to ghosts.

So Jiang Fu’s official career went smoothly all the way. At a young age he’d already reached the rank of Vice Minister.

The Late Emperor sent him as envoy to the Tatars precisely valuing his silver tongue, wanting him to persuade the Tatars to open trade, establish exchanges, and stop harassing Hua Kingdom’s people.

The negotiations went smoothly at first. Jiang Fu lived up to expectations and reached a basic agreement with the Tatar King.

The problem arose during a banquet.

Jiang Fu went outside the tent to urinate. By chance, the Tatar King also had an urgent need and stood beside him.

When two men urinate, naturally they’ll compete over who can spray farther.

Jiang Fu was a weak scholar—his body certainly couldn’t compare to the Tatar King who trained in martial arts year-round.

The Tatar King’s stream went far. He mocked that all Hua Kingdom men were like Jiang Fu—unable to even satisfy women.

Jiang Fu coldly replied with four characters: “burning zithers and boiling cranes.”

The meaning was: You northern barbarians only know how to ruin good things. What else can you do? Just barbarians.

He thought the Tatar King wouldn’t understand. Unexpectedly, not only did this man understand, he caught the arrogance and contempt in his words. Emboldened by drink, he drew his blade and killed Jiang Fu.

Throughout history, even when two nations warred, envoys weren’t executed.

When news reached the Hua Kingdom, the Late Emperor was furious and immediately dispatched General Song Zhiyu on campaign.

“Wait.”

Yan Sanhe interrupted: “What was the Late Emperor’s reasoning in dispatching Song Zhiyu?”

“Song Zhiyu came from a military family, trained in martial arts from childhood, was well-versed in military strategy, and had fought several battles in the north with the Late Emperor. He was very familiar with the northern territories.”

Bu Liu: “The Late Emperor used him first because he was familiar with the north, and second because he was recommended by the Crown Prince at the time—the current Emperor.”

Yan Sanhe: “Why did the current Emperor recommend him?”

Bu Liu: “Song Zhiyu and the Crown Prince grew up together. The two were close friends.”

Yan Sanhe: “The Late Emperor and Crown Prince were always at odds. Why would he listen to the Crown Prince and employ Song Zhiyu?”

Bu Liu: “The Late Emperor always prioritized the greater good and the stability of the nation when employing people. Song Zhiyu truly had some real ability.”

Yan Sanhe: “Since he had real ability, why did he lose?”

Bu Liu was pressed by her question after question until he could barely breathe.

He exhaled a long, deep breath. “Miss Yan, military campaigns require not only favorable timing, geography, and harmony among people—sometimes you also need luck.”

Jiang Fu’s death was sudden. The Late Emperor couldn’t swallow this affront and ordered Song Zhiyu to immediately march to the north.

Immediately meant haste.

The great army departed in September. After a month’s long march, they hastily reached the north in October—men and horses exhausted. They could only rest and reorganize for a month.

A month later, the north was already filled with swirling snow, freezing cold. The great army could only continue reorganizing, waiting until spring the following year to fight.

But spring in the north came late. Even in April, snow still fell from the sky.

The long winter wore away all the soldiers’ ambition.

The Tatars, on the contrary, were the opposite. The long winter was precisely their time to rest and build up strength.

So the great army lost. Of one hundred thousand, only twenty thousand remained.

Yan Sanhe: “What was Song Zhiyu’s final fate?”

Bu Liu sighed heavily. “After returning to the capital, he surrendered his commander’s seal, resigned from office, and retired. After a few melancholy years, he died young.”

Yan Sanhe: “Compared to those soldiers who died on the battlefield, his fate was already good.”

“Miss Yan, you can’t say it like that. General Song was actually quite pitiful.”

Feeling sympathy for a fellow creature, Bu Liu couldn’t help saying:

“His parents—white-haired people sending off black-haired—also passed away within a few years. His two sons, with no one to guide them, both became mediocre talents. The entire Song family was implicated by him and couldn’t survive in the capital. They could only move back to their ancestral home. I heard that among the whole estate, few achieved success. The Crown Prince was also punished with half a year’s stipend withheld for recommending him. The Crown Prince’s position was nearly lost.”

“So he might as well have died in battle.”

Yan Sanhe suddenly smiled coldly. “Like Old General Zheng.”

Bu Liu hadn’t expected her to say this at all and was immediately speechless.