The Senior Consort Wang pretended not to hear her old servant’s overstepping, and simply raised her teacup and drank, watching idly to see how Luoyun would handle it.

Luoyun, upon hearing these words, lifted her gaze and fixed Nanny Sheng with a long look. Her tone was perfectly level. “Are you so emboldened simply because you carry some small standing within this household? You yourself just said — this is a princely house! Even in a common household, there is no custom by which a wife’s family may casually demand her dowry. For an old servant like you to speak such words — are you trying to invite people to mock the Beizhen Prince’s Household for living off a daughter-in-law’s money?”

Since her sight had been restored, when Luoyun spoke, her gaze now accompanied her words. Though she still bore the same quiet, delicate appearance as before, the moment that sharp look swept across a person, one could instantly feel a pressure bearing down.

Nanny Sheng, though emboldened by the Senior Consort Wang’s backing, still could not hold her ground against the Young Lord’s Consort’s eyes, and immediately looked away, stammering in her own defense: “This servant spoke out of turn — I beg the Young Lord’s Consort’s pardon. But even if the household is in difficulties, it is only a temporary matter. If you were to show some consideration for the two elders, who would have anything to say about the household’s affairs…”

Luoyun understood perfectly well that if the Senior Consort Wang had not relinquished her authority, there would have been no reason whatsoever for a daughter-in-law of her background and connections to be put in charge of the household. What this crafty old servant was saying was almost certainly the Consort’s own calculation, dressed up in another’s mouth.

Luoyun felt it best to speak plainly and cut off certain people’s wishful thinking at the root. So she raised an eyebrow and continued: “The household’s current financial difficulties stem entirely from the trouble that befell the maternal grandfather of the Zong family. As the Zong family’s son-in-law, it was only natural that Lord Father do what he could, and give everything within his power. Though life in the household has become a little lean, we have not yet reached the point where an old servant must go begging for money on our behalf. Mother herself has not put forward her own dowry to make up the deficit — yet here you are, pressing me with such talk. What exactly is your meaning? Anyone who did not know better would think Mother had put you up to it, setting an old servant to bully a new daughter-in-law. It is people like you who ruin the reputation of our household.”

With this, even the Senior Consort Wang could no longer maintain her composure.

Every single sentence from this new daughter-in-law had struck true. If the household truly reached the point of needing a woman’s dowry to fill the gap, by rights it ought to begin with the Senior Consort Wang herself.

After all, it was her own father’s corruption that had brought this trouble upon the Beizhen Prince’s Household, and ultimately left it without bird’s nest to eat.

“Enough. Nanny Sheng, apologize to the Young Lord’s Consort at once.”

Luoyun had spoken with impeccable logic, and the Senior Consort Wang could find no rebuttal, so she could only push Nanny Sheng forward to absorb the blow.

Nanny Sheng had no choice but to bow her head immediately and acknowledge her error. Still, the Consort’s inner fury continued to simmer. She shot a sidelong glance at Su Luoyun and said: “You are right — if this household truly runs short, it should be me who surrenders my dowry first, and offers apologies to everyone in the household. Why don’t you just calculate whether I should be sold outright, to plug the holes in your ledger?”

Seeing her mother-in-law flash with anger, Luoyun naturally dropped at once to her knees in apology.

Just then, a clamor of footsteps sounded from outside the door.

“What is all this — why is there such a lively gathering inside?” With those words, Princess Yuyang swept in, her maids and attendants trailing behind her.

As it turned out, before Luoyun had come, she had heard that Nanny Xi had returned to the household, and had anticipated that the old troublemaker would be making her move. Han Linfeng was consumed with his own affairs and had not returned to the household for some time, and she could not rely on her father-in-law to rescue her every time.

So before coming, she had invited Princess Yuyang to accompany her on a visit to the Consort to inquire after her health.

Princess Yuyang had been staying in the Beizhen Prince’s Household in Liangzhou ever since her frightening ordeal in Huicheng.

The location was conveniently close to Jingzhou, which meant that her husband and son could stop in to visit when they had a moment free.

General Zhao Dong, as the Supreme Commander, would essentially never be able to return. Fortunately, their son Zhao Guibei was reasonably filial, and would come to see Princess Yuyang on occasion — sometimes when he was passing through the relay stations to deliver important dispatches on his father’s behalf, or when retrieving something.

Today, with nothing pressing to occupy her, Princess Yuyang had accepted Luoyun’s invitation, dressed herself up, and come to call on the Senior Consort Wang.

She had arrived just in time to catch the tail end of the exchange, and had casually asked about it.

The Senior Consort Wang was a woman of great pride in her face — the moment Princess Yuyang appeared, she could hardly continue holding Su Luoyun to account. She quickly bade Luoyun rise, then turned with a smile to receive the Princess.

If Princess Yuyang were to learn that the household treasury was nearly empty, the Consort’s dignity would be utterly forfeit. She immediately smiled and steered the conversation onto other ground.

Nanny Xi, that old schemer, also recognized there was no room for her to interject in this company, and was quietly helped away by her daughter-in-law, slipping out in silence and embarrassment.

Princess Yuyang was a naturally gregarious woman, and once she entered, the conversation took on an entirely different character. She also brought with her a supply of fresh gossip from the capital — including, naturally, the matter of the Duchess of Junguo’s now-ruined reputation.

The Senior Consort Wang loved nothing more than this kind of news, and for a moment forgot entirely to continue scolding Luoyun. She settled in to chat eagerly with the Princess about this most satisfying of scandals, and while they were at it, gently raised the question of whether the Princess knew of any eligible young gentlemen among the capital households she was close to — someone to look into for her daughter.

Since the time they had all leapt from the Tianbao Tower together in Huicheng, Princess Yuyang felt that she and the Consort shared a bond forged in shared danger. Seeing the Consort’s persistent ill-health, driven by anxiety over her daughter’s future, she genuinely felt for her, and immediately agreed without hesitation, saying she would write more letters to her good friends in the capital to recommend the Beizhen Prince’s Household’s young commandery princess, in hopes of finding her a suitable match.

After the Princess departed, the Senior Consort Wang’s mood had lifted considerably. She glanced at Luoyun seated nearby, and only then recalled the unfinished business that had been interrupted by the Princess’s arrival.

When she gathered herself again and demanded to know why Luoyun had dismissed so many long-standing retainers, and whether she was trying to seize complete control of the household, Luoyun responded softly: “It was only because I initially found discrepancies in the accounts. When I began to ask questions, I discovered which individuals were involved. I had intended to deal with the matter leniently out of respect for Mother — but Father Lord, concerned about me reviewing the accounts alone, stayed and sat through the whole process. You know his temperament better than I do. In his anger, he said the household was already short of money and could not possibly continue keeping people who bit the hand that fed them. So he had them all expelled. If Mother feels it is not right, I could raise it with Father Lord and ask him to invite those people back?”

The Senior Consort Wang faltered at this.

The truth was that ever since Lord Beizhen had paid half of her father Zong Qing’s penalty fine, the household’s everyday expenditures had all been tightened. So if those people’s accounts truly had been irregular, they had walked directly into the mouth of a cannon.

If she tried to intercede for them now, she would almost certainly receive a scolding from Lord Beizhen as well.

Thinking of how many years she had toiled and endured in this household, raising three children to adulthood, only to end up with less standing in the end than a new daughter-in-law — the Senior Consort Wang felt a surge of grief, and her eyes suddenly reddened. “There is no need to use your father-in-law to put pressure on people. Now in this household, father and son alike have both been brought to heel by you. My own health has deteriorated, and I might as well die soon, to clear the way for you, the new mistress.”

Luoyun handed the Consort a cup of tea and felt somewhat at a loss between laughter and frustration.

This mother-in-law of hers, though possessed of a certain shrewdness, harbored no truly malicious intentions. Her great weakness was that she was too easily swayed — too susceptible to the prodding of scheming servants. Beyond that, she perpetually felt that fate had treated her more harshly than anyone else.

In truth, though Lord Beizhen carried the reputation of a wastrel, when one counted carefully, the household had only three children. Aside from Han Linfeng, who had been born to a beloved concubine, there were no other children of lesser birth. And while the household did have one or two bedchamber attendants, Lord Beizhen did not often stay with them — which, in a princely household, was already remarkably restrained.

Though Lord Beizhen and the Consort maintained a relationship of mutual propriety, he was not a man who treated his principal wife harshly. Yet the two of them were simply incompatible in temperament — even while maintaining surface civility, a single wrong word could set off an argument.

Luoyun had never before truly understood what it meant to be two people whose characters simply could not be worn smooth together. Her own mother, though deeply disappointed in her father, had never quarreled with him face-flushed and ear-reddened every two or three days the way Lord Beizhen and the Consort did.

Having observed her in-laws up close, Luoyun could not help but acknowledge: some people, however well-matched in rank and appearance, are simply not suited to be husband and wife. An incompatibility of temperament is, in truth, even more fatal than a mismatch of birth dates.

Hearing the Consort speak of dying soon, Luoyun said gently: “Second Young Master and the young commandery princess have not yet married. Mother cannot leave them without care. If Father Lord or the Young Lord were to arrange things, they would certainly not find anyone suitable. Mother needs only to recuperate, and once you are strong enough to rise again, please take back the account books and the keys at once. I am still so young — I simply cannot sustain a household of this scale.”

The Consort took the handkerchief Luoyun offered and dabbed at her eyes, then drank a few sips of tea. She had to admit that Su Luoyun had a point.

Her children were still young. If she died, who would look after them?

And yet this new daughter-in-law’s words sounded generous — but having just managed to take hold of the household’s authority, why would she truly be so willing to give it up?

When she voiced this skepticism about Luoyun’s sincerity, Luoyun smiled openly and said with complete candor: “The household’s foundation is so depleted. Managing accounts and holding keys is exhausting work. I am used to managing my own affairs, and have always been rather free-handed with spending. I find I am rather ill-suited to running a poor household.”

The Consort choked on her tea in fresh exasperation. This wretched girl’s words were truly infuriating! The Beizhen Prince’s Household had become a decrepit wreck in her mouth?

Yet the Senior Consort Wang also knew the truth of her daughter-in-law’s circumstances — this was no empty boasting. She had heard from her daughter that Su Luoyun’s fragrance shop business was continuously expanding, and had even contracted an overseas merchant fleet to transport rare imported fragrances. There was now even a branch of Shou Xiang Zhai in Huicheng.

When a daughter-in-law of such substantial wealth said such things, it was simply the plain truth. To be accustomed to spending money like water, and then to turn around and painstakingly count every coin in the communal household accounts — that would indeed be rather constraining.

The Consort had originally schemed to use this wealthy woman to fill the household’s gaps. But listening to this new daughter-in-law invoke the household’s dignity at every turn, she seemed to have absolutely no intention of producing any money.

Truly a product of a merchant family — far too calculating about money. As miserly as a creature that only swallows and never releases.

Seeing the Senior Consort Wang’s eyes narrow in renewed irritation, Luoyun knew when to make her exit. She excused herself by mentioning that Young General Zhao would be visiting the household shortly, and that she needed to oversee the kitchen in preparing a welcome meal, and would return to keep the Consort company at her first opportunity.

The Consort shot her a glare. “We are practically paupers here — what is there to prepare? A thin gruel and some salted vegetables will do perfectly well.”

Luoyun smiled softly. “The Princess handles her own household expenses. Since the Young General is returning, naturally he will purchase his own ingredients, and our kitchen merely prepares them. As for Mother — whatever you wish to eat, simply tell me. If the household doesn’t have the funds, I will buy it for you.”

Such coaxing words — the kind one might use on a child — left the Consort both irritated and unable to take offense. This was clearly her own household, yet somehow she had the inexplicable feeling of being a guest under someone else’s eaves. Even wanting to eat something decent required going through the new daughter-in-law’s hands.

As for Zhao Guibei — he had come to Liangzhou on official business, and earlier that day had sent an attendant ahead to say he would be stopping in to visit Princess Yuyang.

When Zhao Guibei arrived, he was carrying large and small bundles of things he had purchased at the market on the way.

This time he had not only brought tonics for his mother, but had thought to bring gifts for Luoyun, the Senior Consort Wang, and even the young commandery princess, Han Yao.

The Princess could not stop praising him, saying that since he had left the capital, her son had actually grown to understand the ways of the world.

When mother and son were reunited, Princess Yuyang saw that her boy had grown darker and thinner in these months, and her heart immediately ached. She cupped his face in her hands and asked whether he had been eating and sleeping properly.

Zhao Guibei seemed resigned to his mother’s persistent habit of treating him like a small child. He cast an awkward sideways glance at Han Yao, who was sitting nearby suppressing a smile, then stepped back and said: “Mother, I am not a child who still smells of milk — why must you always worry about my eating and sleeping?”

Princess Yuyang burst out laughing at this. “You little rascal — in your mother’s eyes, you will always be a baby blowing milk bubbles. Your father has always raised you rough, and now at the front, there is no one to look after you at all.”

She then turned smilingly to Luoyun and Han Yao, who were seated nearby: “My husband did have a daughter from before, but she was already grown when I married in and soon wed herself off. It was only this child, Guibei, who was still a nursing infant — I truly raised him from the very beginning. Watching him grow up and run off to all corners of the world with no trace of him — my heart feels rather hollow.”

Luoyun sat listening with a smile to the Princess’s domestic chatter. Watching her, one could see she was a woman who truly loved children, having raised the Young General so tenderly. Yet the fact that she had not borne any of her own was something of a puzzle.

Luoyun had not asked about it, but earlier, over tea, she had heard the Princess mention that her monthly cycle was irregular, and had quietly copied out for her the prescription that had been prepared for Luoyun’s own attempts to conceive. The formula had originally been written by the physician who had treated her eye ailment; beyond supporting conception, it was also excellent for regulating a woman’s irregular monthly cycles.

She and the Princess had been in one another’s company constantly these past weeks, and their friendship had grown ever warmer. Previously they had been no more than acquaintances separated by rank, where a familiar customer showed deference. Now there was something of the feeling of a friendship between people of different generations. Yet the closer they grew, the more Luoyun felt a quiet indignation on the Princess’s behalf, sensing that she conducted herself with too much submission before her husband.

But matters of the heart are known only to those who live them — it was not her place to judge. What she had quietly done was this: from now on, when the Princess requested fragrance blends, Luoyun no longer included that particular ingredient of Sichuan pepper in the formula. After all, Luoyun knew the story behind it, and now that the Princess and her husband were on warmer terms, there was no longer any need to add that trace of an old grief’s memory.

As the group chatted on, servants brought in an assortment of dishes.

The Princess served her son food with her chopsticks, all the while asking without pause: “How is your father’s health — does he eat three meals a day, and has his stomach trouble been acting up?”

Zhao Guibei replied: “The Iron Foe people have taken advantage of the rebel forces’ collapse to seize a good number of prefectures and counties, burning, killing, and plundering as they go. Jiayong Prefecture and several prefectures near the front have been flooded with refugees. Father says that if these refugees cannot be guided to settle somewhere in time, there is a risk of a spring famine — so he has gone to the surrounding prefectures and likely will not be back for several days.”

Princess Yuyang listened, her heart aching for her husband. “Managing refugees is surely the duty of local officials — why must the General personally step in? And where has all the relief grain and silver from the court gone?”

Su Luoyun listened without responding.

She maintained ships running back and forth transporting goods, and was regularly in correspondence with her shop managers — which naturally meant she was well aware that the court’s treasury was in an even more desolate and hollow state than the Beizhen Prince’s Household.

Perhaps because the Emperor could feel his days growing short, the Great Wei imperial family had been levying continuous corvée labor for years, constructing the mausoleum of Emperor Weihui. And fearing future grave robbers, they had constructed no fewer than nine decoy tombs to confuse the world.

Whether any particular tomb was real or false, every single one had been built with genuine gold and silver, accumulated on the blood and sweat of countless conscripted laborers.

Beyond this, the flood disaster of recent years had been made infinitely worse by the man-made calamity of officials embezzling the funds designated for hydraulic works — with the result that repairing the damaged dams proved more expensive than rebuilding them from the ground up.

The Great Wei was like a century-old tree, all flourishing branches and spreading leaves on the outside, yet with a trunk and roots long since eaten hollow by woodworms — fragile beyond its appearance, and barely able to withstand a real blow.

The court’s peculiar current practice of accepting silver payments in lieu of criminal punishment was one example: it was the Emperor’s brilliant solution to not being able to keep the pot boiling. Though in truth the wool came from the sheep’s own back — most of those fines had been stripped from the common people by greedy officials in the first place.

Luoyun could not help but recall the scenes she had witnessed on the road from the capital to Liangzhou — common people driven from their homes, begging along the roadside — and felt a quiet heaviness settle in her heart.

She had already quietly instructed the managers and staff of her Huicheng shop to purchase grain and set up anonymous porridge kitchens in the surrounding prefectures and counties — not to earn any honorable name for herself, only hoping to help some of the refugees get one hot bowl of life-sustaining gruel.

Yet however much porridge was cooked, it was a cup of water against an ocean of need when held against the tide of refugees surging in.

The border region had first had to pacify the rebel forces, and now faced the coming war with the Iron Foe — all of it an ongoing inferno consuming silver. Where was the court to find any remaining grain or money to provide relief for the disaster survivors fleeing from the northern territories?

In truth, local officials had received orders: drive these northern refugees back north, and leave them to fend for themselves.

General Zhao Dong simply could not bear it, and so had personally traveled to prefectural capitals, trying to persuade the various officials to think of some arrangement — whether it was possible to take in these people and settle them at the border prefectures, putting them to work clearing and cultivating land.

Yet by all likelihood, even the Supreme Commander’s efforts would come to nothing. Without sufficient grain, even if the refugees were allowed to stay, there would be nothing to do but watch them starve — or watch them turn into bandits and roving marauders.

The group listened as Zhao Guibei recounted several of the skirmishes with the Iron Foe, and Princess Yuyang grew genuinely shaken with dread as she listened, once again admonishing her son not to rely solely on bravery.

The Senior Consort Wang also sighed repeatedly, saying how comfortable life in the capital must be, far from the front — nothing like being here, where one felt the war closing in from every direction, and everything felt constrained and joyless.

Though in truth, even being in Liangzhou, one had little real sense of how fierce the fighting truly was at the actual front.

Just as Zhao Guibei finished his visit with his mother and turned to make his way back, General Zhao Dong — who had been out inspecting the civilian population of the surrounding prefectures — was struck by a surprise ambush of Iron Foe cavalry.

The Iron Foe fought in an entirely different manner from the rebel forces. Supremely skilled in horsemanship, they excelled above all at ambush tactics. Their mounted archers could fire arrows at full gallop — closing in and pulling back, drawing their targets into exhaustion like masters flying a kite, wearing down the enemy bit by bit. And in close-quarters combat, those powerful and fierce Iron Foe soldiers and officers could, with their bare hands and no weapons at all, snap a man’s neck sinews.

An ambush force with no weakness at either range or close quarters — once they struck, those who had been caught off-guard were entirely at a disadvantage.

Zhao Dong was caught completely unprepared, surrounded in an instant by this Iron Foe cavalry force. He watched helplessly as his personal guards were picked off one by one by the mounted archers, dropped from their horses like kite strings being reeled in. At a standstill, it seemed only a matter of time before he would have no choice but to be taken alive.

Then, unexpectedly, another mounted force came charging in.

These men were dressed head to toe in an aura of lethal severity — not only wearing black garments, but with faces concealed behind dark iron masks.

In that moment Zhao Dong’s heart gave a great lurch of alarm, for the rebel forces under Qiu Zhen had been very fond of iron masks when storming cities and breaking through defenses. Now, already locked in fierce battle with the Iron Foe cavalry, a group of iron-masked fighters suddenly charged in — Zhao Dong could only assume these were rebel forces arriving to pick over the spoils.

Yet to his astonishment, the mysterious figure at the head of this group, wearing a fearsome demon mask with green face and protruding fangs, suddenly snapped a long whip upward with blinding speed, deflecting an arrow that had been aimed straight at the General’s face — barely saving Zhao Dong’s life.

What followed was a display of this mysterious iron-masked force’s extraordinary command of the art of tormenting Iron Foe cavalry.

They flourished long whips bristling with iron spines, lashing them at the Iron Foe mounted archers, coiling the whips around them and hauling them bodily off their horses — then proceeding to drag them in wide circles across the ground.

When the Iron Foe warriors dismounted voluntarily, rolling and tumbling forward with blades drawn to hack at the horses’ legs, the iron-masked fighters had already dismounted in anticipation. Each one carried a small shield in one hand and a meteor hammer on a long chain in the other, smashing the hammer down with full force on the heads of the leg-hacking Iron Foe soldiers.

This meteor hammer, capable of freely adjusting its reach, was devastatingly effective — within a few blows, it had split the skulls of the close-quarters Iron Foe fighters.

With their primary attacking force stripped away, the remaining Iron Foe soldiers became like tender gourds newly sprouted in a field — essentially unable to fight back, left with nothing to do but be cut down.

These Iron Foe men had arrived fast in their ambush — and fell fast in their defeat.

Once the iron-masked relief force confirmed there were no further Iron Foe cavalry following, they mounted up and dispersed in a rush, arriving like shadows, leaving without a trace.

Zhao Dong had been present throughout, yet had barely been able to make sense of what he had witnessed. His instincts told him something was not right: if these people were rebel forces, their killing of Iron Foe soldiers was understandable — but why had they stayed their hand entirely against the Great Wei soldiers?

He knew well that Han Linfeng’s proposal to offer amnesty to Cao Sheng’s rebel army had not been accepted. And even now, sporadic skirmishes between rebel fighters and Great Wei forces still broke out from time to time.

Yet just now, when the Great Wei soldiers had been on the verge of defeat, those iron-masked troops had not touched them — not a single one. Why?

Could it be that these iron-masked troops were not part of Qiu Zhen’s iron-masked forces at all?

This was the first time Zhao Dong had witnessed with his own eyes the legendary iron-masked army he had only heard spoken of. But in the battles that followed, this iron-masked force appeared and vanished at will like spirits, a gust of wind — yet they struck a dozen or more brilliant ambushes in quick succession, all strikingly real.

Like the rebel army under Cao Sheng’s leadership, they struck only at the Iron Foe invaders who had come to seize their homeland, never harassing the common people, never setting themselves against the Great Wei forces — and on several occasions even coordinated with Zhao Dong’s movements with subtle precision to drive back Iron Foe ambushes.

Gradually, even those on the rebel side began to murmur among themselves, saying that this iron-masked force which had now appeared bore an uncanny resemblance to the mysterious iron-masked army that had briefly surfaced years before.

The speed and style of their lightning strikes were simply too similar — it was nothing like Qiu Zhen’s crude imitation, which had amounted to little more than hammering out a few iron masks and putting them on faces.

This iron-masked army was something that possessed a true spirit.

In a turbulent age, the weak cannot help but look to the strong in reverence. In no time at all, the iron-masked army’s reputation rose sharply — so much so that a significant number of Qiu Zhen’s former soldiers began actively searching for the iron-masked army’s whereabouts, hoping to join their ranks.

And then came a still more astonishing development: Cao Sheng — said in legend to have long since died — suddenly reappeared in the northern territories, returning with his wife and daughter. His body had been ravaged and broken by exposure to the poisonous mist, yet his old brothers-in-arms recognized him in an instant.

Cao Sheng proclaimed that among his sworn brothers was none other than the leader of that original iron-masked army — the Iron War God. The Iron War God had withdrawn from the world for many years, but had now returned to the northern lands, and formally received the mantle passed down from Cao Sheng’s hands, to resist the Iron Foe and reclaim the lost territories of the Great Wei.