In the evening, Qiu Xinran drove her carriage to Yishan Ward. The old Princess’s residence in her memory was indeed gone, replaced by an academy. It was dusk—smoke rose from the chimneys of households all around, and the sound of reading came from within the academy. The row of willows originally planted outside the residence remained, but inside it had become a different world entirely.

Qiu Xinran stood under the poplar trees outside the academy, gazing at the slowly setting sun in the distance, recalling the siege of Luzhou seven years ago.

In the spring of the ninth year of Xuande, Xia Xiuyan led troops north. Half a month after departure, they arrived at Wanfeng Mountain. Beyond Wanfeng Mountain lay Luzhou, but shortly after entering the mountains, this force that had left Chang’an to rush to Luzhou’s aid suddenly disappeared into the vast mountain forests, completely losing contact with the court.

When news reached Chang’an, court and country were shocked. Emperor Xuande flew into a thunderous rage. Throughout the court there was endless discussion. At the time, almost everyone concluded that Xia Xiuyan had lost his nerve halfway and fled with his troops. After all, alone with five thousand elite soldiers facing the Diyue people’s army of tens of thousands was truly no different from a moth flying into flame. Moreover, Xia Xiuyan was originally a frail young man who had never led troops—him doing such a thing didn’t seem surprising.

Qiu Xinran found it difficult to describe her feelings upon hearing this news. Before Xia Xiuyan’s departure, she’d cast a hexagram for him. The hexagram showed life opportunity lay south. This result had also greatly surprised her. After much hesitation, she still wrote it on the back of the Daoist paper, folded it into a talisman, and entrusted Yuan Zhou to pass it to him.

After Xia Xiuyan left, she had pondered many times over this hexagram she’d divined, more than once speculating what exactly “life opportunity lies south” in the hexagram referred to. When news of the frontline commander’s disappearance came back, before she could be surprised, she instead had a sense of “it should be thus.”

West was death, south was life. Under such circumstances, desertion was the only life opportunity.

With matters developing to this point, someone needed to step forward to bear responsibility. First and foremost was Qiu Xinran, who had recommended at court that Xia Xiuyan lead troops west on campaign. Subsequently, she was thrown into the Ministry of Justice’s prison to await judgment, knowing nothing of what happened in the outside world thereafter.

Fortunately, during that time Chang’an was unprecedentedly chaotic. Xia Xiuyan’s disappearance seemed to confirm Xia Hongying’s treason by association. The commander who once expanded territory and guarded one frontier had overnight become a petty man who sold out his country for glory, despised by all under heaven. The court was overwhelmed dealing with these successive upheavals and couldn’t spare time to discuss how to deal with her. The peace faction led by Wu Guangda gradually gained the upper hand. The Diyue people’s army didn’t stop their advance because of Chang’an’s turmoil. Emperor Xuande, left with no choice, appointed Wu Guangda as Left Minister and dispatched him to rush to the border to negotiate with the Diyue people, temporarily slowing the Diyue troops’ eastern advance.

Qiu Xinran spent two chaotic and long months in prison.

Two months later, a victory dispatch came from the northwest. While the peace faction was still at the border locked in stalemate with the Diyue people at the negotiating table, Xia Xiuyan appeared like heavenly troops descended from above, circled to the rear, and set fire to the stored grain and fodder on the Khada tribe’s grasslands—that was the main camp where the Diyue Hulan King’s tent was located. Moreover, he took advantage of the fire to take hostage Qikdan’s youngest son.

No one knew how he had appeared there like a ghost. This strategy of feinting east and attacking west enraged the Diyue people beneath Luzhou city. Qikdan detained the envoy from Chang’an and resolved to mobilize all forces to attack the city. Just at this moment, the long-missing Changwu Army descended from heaven. The Diyue people, whose morale had been strong, were like seeing ghosts in broad daylight—in an instant their formations fell into chaos, and Luzhou fought its first victorious battle in several months.

The victory dispatch delivered to court came together with Xia Xiuyan’s letter of self-accusation. He stated that after leading troops to Wanfeng Mountain, he did the opposite—taking a small road south, circling the mountain ranges to enter the grasslands from the west and launching a surprise attack. In his youth following Xia Hongying, he’d often traveled the grasslands and was very familiar with the terrain and environment of this area. During this time on the road, he found the Changwu Army besieged in the Gobi mountains to the west. After making contact, he learned the Diyue had long joined hands with the surrounding small nation Dawan. Dawan ostensibly didn’t want to offend Dali, but secretly sent troops to set a trap, trapping the Changwu Army led by Xia Hongying in the Gobi mountains.

After the two armies joined forces, they split into two routes. Xia Hongying, wounded, led troops to support Luzhou, while Xia Xiuyan led a small band of elite soldiers to circle to the rear and burn the grain and fodder.

Seeing the Changwu Army arrive, Qikdan knew it would be difficult to take Luzhou in a short time. Added to the urgent situation in the rear and his young son being held hostage, he could only reluctantly turn back and rush home. Xia Xiuyan didn’t linger in battle. Taking this opportunity, he rushed overnight to Luzhou and entered the city, leaving Qikdan grasping at empty air.

With both sides in stalemate, formal negotiations began.

Three months later, the two sides exchanged hostages on the Khada tribe’s grasslands. Xia Xiuyan used Qikdan’s ten-year-old youngest son to exchange for Dali’s negotiating envoy. Both sides signed a temporary armistice agreement.

In the winter of the second half of that year, Xia Xiuyan led troops back to the capital and was enfeoffed as General Zhenbei at age eighteen, not yet having reached his capping ceremony.

The following spring, Xia Hongying’s old injuries proved incurable—he died of illness in Luzhou. The court posthumously enfeoffed him as Duke Zhaowu. Xia Xiuyan formally took over his father’s tiger tally and led the Changwu Army.

In the autumn of the second half of that year, the Diyue tore up the armistice agreement and sent troops to Luzhou. Xia Xiuyan led troops to defend, defeating the enemy army at Qiangong Mountain, forcing the enemy army to return empty-handed.

Over the following seven years, the two sides clashed many times. Dali went from initially being on the defensive to later taking the initiative to attack, until the Hulan King died and the Diyue royal court fell into internal strife. The second prince colluded with the queen dowager to launch a coup and seized the throne in one stroke. Qikdan, wounded, fled with his remaining forces.

With the royal court’s situation unstable, Xia Xiuyan led troops to level the Khada tribe’s grasslands. The following year the Diyue surrendered, and the northwest was greatly pacified.

…

In the sixteenth year of Xuande, Xia Xiuyan was enfeoffed as Marquis of Dingbei and returned to court to receive his rewards.

Those were the seven years most relished by storytellers in every teahouse. In seven years, the sickly heir bore the curses of all under heaven and single-handedly shouldered heavy burdens to become a border war god with illustrious military achievements. Such a legendary story, passed from mouth to mouth, had many details added to it and spread vividly throughout the land north and south of the great river.

And at the source where these seven years began, the Daoist who cast a hexagram at court had always served as the treacherous villain in this story. She deceived those above and flattered those below, slandering loyal subjects. Shortly after the great victory at Luzhou was reported back to court, through the pleas of Imperial Consort Chen and others, she was released from the palace to return to the mountains, never descending the mountain again by even half a step.

Those seven years, Xia Xiuyan guarded the distant border, marching day and night, fighting bloodily.

Those seven years, Qiu Xinran resided in the mountains, with morning bells and evening drums, not concerning herself with worldly affairs.

Every time stories reached their end, they always drew dissatisfaction: “How is it that this heretical Daoist ended up perfectly fine, and the Marquis of Dingbei never came back to settle accounts with her?”

“That heretical Daoist kicked him when he was down, but the hexagram she cast was truly accurate. At the time, who could have imagined the frail and sickly Marquis’s heir could truly lead troops to resolve Luzhou’s siege?”

“But that was because the Marquis of Dingbei was extraordinary, turning the tide by his own power—what does it have to do with that heretical Daoist?”

…

Standing outside the academy in Yishan Ward, gazing at the drooping willow branches, Qiu Xinran heaved a long sigh. Daoism also taught cause and effect, but by now she no longer knew who was cause and who was effect between her and Xia Xiuyan.

Not far from the academy, at the alley entrance, a carriage was stopped—no one knew how long it had been stopped there. The evening breeze gently brushed the carriage curtain. The person inside raised his hand to lift it aside, glanced toward the purple-robed figure beneath the weeping willow, smiled, and turned his head to speak to the person beside him: “It’s Xinran.”

Another handsome man in a round-collared robe sat in the carriage. Hearing this, he also looked over and slightly curved his lips. “Thank you for your trouble, Xianyi.”

Zhou Xianyi lowered the carriage curtain and modestly demurred with some embarrassment. “The Marquis is too kind—it was merely a small effort.” He recalled yesterday after court dismissal, encountering Xia Xiuyan on the road. Unexpectedly, the other had taken the initiative to approach and speak with him: “Several days ago His Majesty ordered Astronomer Qiu to find me a place to stay in Chang’an. Several days have passed with still no word. If I directly send people to inquire, I fear it would make the Astronomer uneasy. Xianyi has a close relationship with her—would you be willing to help me with this favor?”

Zhou Xianyi, recalling their past grievances, naturally didn’t suspect anything and immediately agreed.

Xia Xiuyan then added, “The Astronomer is clever-minded. If Xianyi directly asks about this matter, she’ll probably immediately guess your intention. Better to obliquely mention the Princess’s residence fire—she’ll feel bad about it in her heart and perhaps will put more effort into this matter.”

Zhou Xianyi followed his words and went to the He Family Eatery the next day, delivering the message. In the evening, he indeed saw Qiu Xinran arrive by carriage here. He recalled the earlier palace rumors about Xia Xiuyan pushing Qiu Xinran into the water and couldn’t help explaining for her: “Last time when Xinran fell into the water, I heard some rumors about the Marquis spread outside, and she felt very uneasy. I’ve known her for a long time and know she’s not as the outside says. Back then…”

“Xianyi need not say more.” Xia Xiuyan’s gaze was gentle as he interrupted him. “I also bear no grudge about these matters.”

“Truly?” Zhou Xianyi was startled at these words and said haltingly, “Then I should tell Xinran.”

Xia Xiuyan smiled. “Astronomer Qiu is quite wary of me because of what happened seven years ago. If Xianyi tells her this, she mostly won’t believe it and might even overthink things. Better to let nature take its course.”

Zhou Xianyi was deeply moved hearing this. Since he knew Xia Xiuyan bore no resentment toward Qiu Xinran in his heart, he also felt his words made sense. So he didn’t pursue it further. After sitting in the carriage a while longer, he got down to take his leave.

After Zhou Xianyi left, the carriage stopped at the alley entrance in Yishan Ward for a long while. Gao Yang raised his head several times to glance at the sky, looking at the figure in the distance who still hadn’t left, and couldn’t help asking, “What is the Marquis’s intention this time?”

“Clearly a fake Daoist, yet she’s learned the faults of ordained people to perfection.”

Gao Yang didn’t understand his meaning. Then he heard Xia Xiuyan give a light sneer. “With someone like Qiu Xinran, if you don’t want her avoiding you, you first need to make her feel she owes you.”

Gao Yang pressed his lips together. “Back then with the Princess’s residence fire—did Astronomer Qiu truly not know?”

“She was still in the Ministry of Justice’s prison then.”

“But after she got out from there…”

“Gao Yang,” Xia Xiuyan’s slightly cold voice interrupted his following words. “The Princess’s residence being gone wasn’t caused by her. If you direct your anger at her, it only makes me appear more incompetent.”

Gao Yang opened his mouth, then lowered his head and said softly, “This subordinate knows his error.”

The carriage was quiet for a moment. Xia Xiuyan looked again at the female Daoist standing in the distance beneath the weeping willow. “Has Zhao Rong returned?”

“He just arrived yesterday.”

“Have him come find me at the official residence.” The person in the carriage lowered the curtain and instructed in a low voice, “Let’s go back.”

The carriage started moving again and disappeared around the street corner. The figure beneath the academy’s weeping willow seemed to sense something and turned her head to look toward the alley entrance. It was empty there—no one appeared.