The deep blue sky stretched across behind Shen Zechuan. He lifted his arm to push back his cloak, revealing a jade bead on his right ear. As his sleeve slipped down, showing the pristine white lining, he looked like a bird at rest in this silent world, instantly capturing Xiao Chiye’s full attention.
Xiao Chiye didn’t blink. He watched Shen Zechuan take a few steps down the slope, and instinctively opened his arms. Shen Zechuan’s momentum pushed him back slightly, and Xiao Chiye caught him fully in his embrace, lifting him tightly.
The river surged, splashing against their legs with a clanging splash.
“You scared me to death,” Xiao Chiye exclaimed, recovering from his shock, lifting Shen Zechuan higher, tilting his head back and laughing. “Falling straight from the sky!”
Shen Zechuan’s breathing quickened. “On patrol,” he said.
Xiao Chiye reached out, cupping Shen Zechuan’s cheek, then placed a hand at the back of his head, pressing him down for a kiss. Dusk fell around them, the mountains and waters dimming; their lips met amid the muted twilight. Shen Zechuan’s hands rose, gripping Xiao Chiye’s face, responding passionately.
The river’s sparkling surface faded, and night blurred the boundaries between sky and earth. They pressed close, letting years of pent-up longing spill over. Xiao Chiye kissed with fierce intensity; when they parted, Shen Zechuan couldn’t help but draw in a sharp breath, licking the place Xiao Chiye had nearly bitten through.
“Inspect me,” Xiao Chiye laughed. “Hurry, I’ll undress for you.”
Shen Zechuan, arms draped over Xiao Chiye, tapped his muscular back with his folded fan. “You ran off as soon as you got down from the carriage. The prince hasn’t seen you yet. I’ll inspect you tonight.”
“Oh,” Xiao Chiye elongated the sound, holding him close with mock displeasure. “So you came to see my father.”
Shen Zechuan waved his fan. “That’s just along the way. My heart’s here.”
Wading through the river, Xiao Chiye led Shen Zechuan toward the bank. Shen Zechuan felt too entranced by Xiao Chiye’s handsomeness; when they landed, he leaned closer to examine him. Xiao Chiye raised his arm, pressing against Shen Zechuan’s forehead, holding him at a slight distance.
“After this village, there’s no shop like this,” Xiao Chiye said, picking up his clothes. “No more peeking.”
“Am I leaving?” Shen Zechuan teased.
Xiao Chiye, robe now on, tilted his head. “You leave, then.”
Shen Zechuan nodded knowingly and stepped back a few paces. Seeing Xiao Chiye not move, he turned—only to be scooped back, enveloped, and kissed on the waist until numb.
The wide robe smelled unmistakably of Xiao Chiye, clean and fresh, overwhelming Shen Zechuan. In the thin darkness, he let his desire show, using his warm breath to tempt Xiao Chiye, whispering close to his ear, “You… father… are… here.”
A group of nearby guards, crouched behind the slope, coughed loudly in unison.
Xiao Chiye pulled back, frustrated, yanking off his robe.
Xiao Fangxu had known Shen Zechuan would come, but he hadn’t informed Xiao Chiye. Inside the military tent, it was crowded: commanders from the permanent camp, Second Sha Camp, and Liu Yang’s Third Camp were all present, discussing news from Dajing.
“The Biansha won’t retreat,” said Jiang Sheng, the commanding officer of Second Sha Camp, still bandaged from a recent shoulder injury. “If this fighting continues into winter, all frontline camps must consider adding more military engineers. Otherwise, equipment wear will be too severe; relying solely on the transport units won’t suffice.”
“Increasing engineers is one option,” Zuo Qianqiu said, warming by the fire. “But grain demand will also rise. We’ve moved Dajing’s men to the frontlines; come spring, no one will be left at home to cultivate the military fields.”
Now that Li Bei had lost its western granary, half of the grain supply would rely on domestic military fields—a matter of life and death for their survival.
“According to the heir’s plan,” Chaohui said, “a new supply camp will be built behind Second Sha Camp, able to support the south and Bianbo Camp, meeting battlefield needs more efficiently. During wartime emergencies, the territory will scrimp to supply the frontlines.”
“It’s almost winter, and winter coats haven’t been issued,” Jiang Sheng frowned. “The heir’s consort is making coats in Dajing for the elderly and children, using cotton sent from Luoxia Pass. This year is tough; if we don’t survive this winter, next year will be even worse.”
“You’re a veteran,” Xiao Fangxu said, sipping hot milk, “don’t lose heart. Not all the frontliners are dead. We are struggling, but the Biansha’s twelve tribes are struggling more. Amur hasn’t become the great lord yet; only six tribes truly submit. The rest are opportunists. At the final moment, they may not risk everything for him.”
“The Biansha’s momentum this year is fierce,” Chaohui said. “They must have prepared in advance.”
“Planned for a long time,” Zuo Qianqiu mused, flipping his palms. “In the third year of Xiande, they breached the Zhongbo defense line. It went too smoothly and gave them confidence. Now they target Li Bei’s stubborn lands—unexpected, yet it shows their intention to invade Dazhou. To avoid repeating mistakes, they must first break Li Bei’s wall.”
“Someone is supplying Amur’s troops,” Xiao Fangxu’s gaze sharpened. “After the grain case, it became clear. Amur immediately moved Hassan north. I don’t believe he wasn’t aware. We should be grateful Li Du lacks Li Bei’s military maps, while Dazhou still harbors Amur’s supporters. When Ahye rebelled this spring, it went well. If Li Bei had remained under Du’s control, grain would have been a headache. As they say, it’s easy to dodge open attacks, but secret arrows are deadly. Too dangerous.”
“With no eunuchs supervising the army,” Jiang Sheng finally smiled, shaking his head, “this campaign is much more comfortable.”
“Next year’s grain issues can be solved,” Xiao Fangxu set down his bowl. “I specifically found someone capable to handle it.”
Zuo Qianqiu laughed, standing. “Then let’s invite this young friend in.”
Wu Ziyu wanted to observe Shen Zechuan without appearing overt. Following Dan Taihu, he asked softly, “…this is him?”
Dan Taihu whispered, “Just respectfully call him ‘gongzi’ later.”
Wu Ziyu noticed Shen Zechuan listening to Fei Sheng; his profile revealed little emotion, yet his presence was like a vivid painting: pale as the base, yet the brows and eyes strikingly beautiful, almost intimidating. After a moment, he instinctively felt danger, wanting to avoid his sharp aura.
Ding Tao, ever talkative, piped up quietly: “See the jade bead? Our master polished it himself. Gongzi wears it every day.”
The bead hung on Shen Zechuan’s right ear. Whether it enhanced him or he enhanced it, it served as a tacit warning, gentle yet declaring Xiao Chiye’s possessive claim: no one but Xiao Chiye could touch Shen Zechuan.
Wu Ziyu had just blended into the crowd, unprepared for how to greet Shen Zechuan. Seeing others remain composed, he mirrored their expressions, his eyes cautiously shielded by the jade bead.
By the time Shen Zechuan could meet Xiao Fangxu, it was nearly midnight. Chen Yang drew back the curtain for him to enter.
Xiao Fangxu, originally sitting with legs crossed, straightened abruptly at the sight of the white figure. Feeling unnatural, he propped his knees to restore some authority, watching Shen Zechuan with a forced composure.
“Sorry to keep you waiting in the tent,” Zuo Qianqiu said as he led Shen Zechuan. “The road was rough, I assume. Let’s eat while we discuss.”
He glanced at Xiao Fangxu, signaling silently.
Xiao Fangxu studied Shen Zechuan, still recalling his face but noting how his aura had drastically changed since last year. He thought: damn, he really is stunning.
“Sit,” Xiao Fangxu said coldly.
Bone Jin served tea; Chen Yang brought dishes. The meal was simple: large plates of stewed lamb, fresh milk with coarse tea, steaming flatbread, and common frontline vegetables.
Shen Zechuan noticed the portions were more than enough for him.
Zuo Qianqiu, tearing bread, said, “Good food is scarce here. We want to welcome you properly, but this will have to do. If we have a ceasefire during the New Year, it won’t be like this back in Dajing.”
Shen Zechuan found the word “properly” strange. He was here to discuss trade and passage with Xiao Fangxu; how could “properly” apply?
“Half a year apart, you weren’t this thin last time in Qu Du,” Zuo Qianqiu said. “How is your master?”
Shen Zechuan hadn’t touched his chopsticks yet. He nodded: “Master’s health is fine, enjoying leisure in Cizhou. He often speaks of you. He specifically asked me to bring his regards.” He called out, “Fei Sheng.”
Fei Sheng handed the letter to Chen Yang. Zuo Qianqiu chatted briefly with Shen Zechuan. Xiao Fangxu, using his dagger to scrape lamb, asked: “You’re here to discuss trade?”
“Yes,” Shen Zechuan replied. “And also the horse routes.”
“Li Bei’s horse routes aren’t free,” Xiao Fangxu placed the sliced lamb on a plate. “You pay if you can, but trade is not borrowed.”
“If you refuse, this year’s trade will be idle,” Shen Zechuan said, tasting the flatbread. “This year the war is fierce. Hu Yan Tribe’s pastures were requisitioned by the Han She Tribe. They rely on the remaining cattle and sheep to trade for winter grain. Without trade, thousands will starve in the snow.”
“Li Bei generously allows Hu Yan to winter here. They know our difficulties,” Xiao Fangxu said, cleaning his dagger and looking at Shen Zechuan. “Do you know what granting trade entails? Your people can move across Li Bei this winter. But during wartime, if Biansha-supporting Luoshan bandits infiltrate, can you take responsibility?”
“I won’t,” Shen Zechuan replied, meeting his gaze. “I will eliminate that possibility.”
Xiao Fangxu tossed the dagger aside. “I don’t believe you.”
“Then why not let the prince handle inspections?” Shen Zechuan held his handkerchief, smiling slowly. “Cizhou supplies the grain; Li Bei decides the delivery method.”
“What do you want in return?” Xiao Fangxu asked sternly. “This deal isn’t profitable for you.”
“A route,” Shen Zechuan extended a finger, tracing an imaginary line. “A trade road connecting all of northeastern Dazhou, giving Li Bei and Cizhou a lasting link.”
Xiao Fangxu remained silent. At that moment, the tent flap lifted, and Xiao Chiye entered.