Xiao Chiye gifted Shen Zechuan the white horse left behind by Lu Yizhi, and took advantage of a free morning to ride with him across the grasslands of the battlefield. The horse was pure snow-white, save for a small dark patch on its chest—both beautiful and spirited, livelier than Langtao Xuejin.
There was no battle today. Xiao Fangxu, clad in armor, sat on the railing watching Shen Zechuan circle the track on horseback, and remarked to Zuo Qianqiu, “This habit…”
“This habit?” Zuo Qianqiu squinted against the sun, looking at the medicine prescriptions in his hand. “Finish your sentence.”
“Like Ah Ye’s mother,” Xiao Fangxu traced Shen Zechuan’s riding path with a finger, circling twice, “he doesn’t ride straight.”
“He’s spent years in Qudu, not skilled in horsemanship. Ah Ye just needs to bring him along more often,” Zuo Qianqiu replied, looking up. “Have you found Yideng yet?”
“The master’s whereabouts are elusive, coming and going unpredictably. Not an easy find,” Xiao Fangxu dusted his helmet, “what’s up?”
Zuo Qianqiu’s expression grew serious. “This child’s condition can only be treated by Yideng. I saw him last year in Qudu; outwardly weak, but internally not severely harmed. Now… signs of decline are clear.”
Xiao Fangxu studied Shen Zechuan. “That serious?”
“He’s been on medication for so long,” Zuo Qianqiu said, “it must be carefully replenished. He endured three major trials in Qudu. Qi Huilian took heavy damage, but Ah Ye and Ji Gang have been diligent.”
“Will he recover?” Xiao Fangxu’s gaze returned to Zuo Qianqiu.
Zuo Qianqiu furrowed his brow, folded the prescriptions, and tucked them away. “…I doubt it. Best to keep him under careful care for now.”
At noon, a bowl of fresh milk appeared on Shen Zechuan’s table. He did not understand the battlefield supply system, assuming it was Xiao Chiye’s arrangement. Later, Xiao Chiye came in with another bowl, ensuring Shen Zechuan drank his fill.
During meals, Xiao Chiye said little, assuming it came from Zuo Qianqiu. As he turned to thank the master, he ran into Chen Yang collecting bowls.
“Master’s?” Xiao Chiye quickly donned his cloak. “I’ll deliver it.”
Chen Yang placed the bowl on the tray. “It’s from our prince.”
Xiao Chiye slowed his movements.
“The prince instructed Wu Ziyu this morning to give his portion to the young master, and also asked the frontier camp to send milk-producing livestock to Cizhou,” Chen Yang explained. “He specifically said not to announce it, and not to tell the young master directly.”
That old man…
Xiao Chiye nodded. “I’ll deliver my supplies tomorrow.” After a brief pause, he stopped Chen Yang before he left. “…Never mind, I’ll handle it.”
Shen Zechuan could not stay long on the battlefield. The weather in Hongyan Mountain changed suddenly; after two days, he had to return. On the day of departure, thick fog rose, and the wind from the eastern mountains carried moisture, flapping the military banners violently.
Xiao Chiye adjusted Shen Zechuan’s cloak and wind collar. Seeing Xiao Chiye in only a single layer, Shen Zechuan muttered, “Winter is coming soon. Has the army arranged winter uniforms?”
“Da Sao is making plans,” Xiao Chiye blocked the wind while holding the carriage door. “This New Year, take Master Ji Gang to the Great Border.”
Shen Zechuan glanced behind him and whispered, “Is that alright?”
Xiao Chiye replied softly, “Come marry me quickly and tell my father clearly. Otherwise, it’ll always feel like a secret affair.”
Shen Zechuan, unaware that Xiao Chiye had already spoken with Li Bei, nodded. “Da Sao gave me a bracelet last time; I’ll return the gift at New Year.”
Xiao Chiye found Langzhou endearing. He smiled, stroked Shen Zechuan’s cheek, and said, “There’ll be cavalry escorting you. Once you reach Cizhou, write me a letter. In three or four days, I’ll return to the frontier camp; we’ll be close.”
“I’ll write you one immediately,” Shen Zechuan said, slowing his speech as if to stretch time.
“The fan isn’t ready yet; busy forgot,” Xiao Chiye touched the jade bead. “I’ll polish a new one for you at New Year.”
Shen Zechuan said, “Then I’ll be off.”
Xiao Chiye leaned in, but before he could reach him, Shen Zechuan cupped his face and kissed him—briefly, almost a touch-and-release. Xiao Chiye stepped back from the carriage, lowered the curtain, and moved away.
Fei Sheng, standing nearby, tried to comment, but was immediately shoved aside by Xiao Chiye.
“Langzhou is here,” Xiao Chiye’s gaze was cold. “You stay put.”
Fei Sheng felt as if iron tongs gripped his neck, nearly choking him. He hurriedly nodded, and Xiao Chiye released him.
The carriage rolled on. Shen Zechuan pulled back the curtain. Hongyan Mountain, shrouded in mist behind Xiao Chiye, seemed to merge with his figure as the wind howled.
Shen Zechuan watched him.
Suddenly, a few eagles spun out of the wind; the leading one screeched across the camp. Military tents flapped as sentries blew long whistles from the watchtowers.
Xiao Fangxu mounted his warhorse and drew his sword. “Third squad guard the camp; vanguard advance! The transport squad, immediately retreat to Sha Two Camp to protect the artisans!”
Xiao Chiye retreated, donned his helmet, and mounted Langtao Xuejin, the wind forcing Shen Zechuan to squint. Clinging to the carriage door, he watched Xiao Chiye ride farther and farther away.
Clouds scattered into countless white flecks, drifting across Li Bei’s sky.
The battlefield’s first snow had arrived.
At the third watch, three quarters past, Li Jianting opened her eyes. She sat up as palace maids drew back heavy curtains. Feng Quan adjusted her robe and helped her into shoes with quick, precise movements.
After Mu attempted to assassinate Li Jianheng, Feng Quan had found a scapegoat and remained hidden in the Xue Mansion, serving as Li Jianting’s personal eunuch. Now residing in the palace, Feng Quan continued his service under a new name at Li Jianting’s insistence.
Li Jianting had not slept well, still unaccustomed to the vast chamber. Palace maids knew that at night only Feng Quan could attend to her; others waited outside, occasionally hearing nightmares.
Everyone inside moved silently, dressing Li Jianting with care. Once ready, Feng Quan gently applied a floral forehead ornament. The crown prince did not suit pale tones; bright red looked best.
By dawn, Li Jianting waited under the eaves for the instructors. Today, the wind was harsh; Feng Quan draped her cloak to shield her. Her lips were purple from the cold.
Li Jianting looked at Feng Quan. “Autumn has come. Has the Crown Hat Bureau issued new coats?”
Feng Quan, avoiding eye contact, replied, “They have, Your Highness.”
Li Jianting reached for her cloak but realized her actions were observed. Adjusting her clothing in front of a eunuch was improper, leaving room for gossip. She looked toward the gray-tinged roof eaves, paused, and said nothing.
The instructors were late, leaving her legs numb. She glanced at Feng Quan again, noticing his ears in the dim light.
Feng Quan thought she was cold. “I’ll have someone check ahead…”
“You have ear piercings,” Li Jianting said, staring.
Feng Quan startled, instinctively shielding his ears, then quickly lowered his gaze, nodding silently. He slowed his breath, the tiny holes near his ears amplifying his panic.
After a moment, he led the instructors inside. Li Jianting bowed respectfully and whispered, “Quite beautiful.”
Feng Quan, adjusting the curtain, stole a glance at her, but she did not meet his eyes, moving in to follow the teachers.
Feng Quan clenched his fist inside his sleeve, cold sweat forming. He retreated to the door, glancing from the curtain gap to watch her skirt, lingering over her words in uncertainty.
Shen Zechuan’s return journey was slow. Rain and snow made roads treacherous. Fei Sheng, cautious, personally oversaw every step, ensuring Shen Zechuan did not fall ill. Even with Li Bei cavalry escorting, the carriage’s inner side was guarded by the Embroidered Guard. Daily medicinal decoctions were strictly supervised by Fei Sheng.
After passing the frontier camp, the road collapsed from mudslides, forcing the group to halt and camp overnight.
Shen Zechuan dismounted, strolling the horse with Ding Tao nearby.
“Has the young master named this horse?” Ding Tao asked, arms folded, walking backward.
“Called it Wind-Treading Frost,” Shen Zechuan replied, stroking its mane.
Ding Tao clenched his fist. “Perfect! Pairs nicely with Master’s Langtao Xuejin.”
Shen Zechuan looked south. Ding Tao followed. “Eight or nine days that way brings you to Dunzhou.”
“Really close?” Shen Zechuan was surprised. “I see no Li Bei relay stations nearby.”
“They used to exist, later abandoned,” Ding Tao said. “Now all the action is northeast with the frontier tribes.”
Shen Zechuan exhaled warm breath and walked with Ding Tao a while longer.
At night, Fei Sheng and men kept watch, warming by the fire with the Li Bei cavalry. Neck hunched, he remarked, “Li Bei is really cold. Not yet winter, yet the battlefield is already snowing. Hard work for the brothers—eat!”
The cavalry, being guerrilla fighters, ate heartily without politeness. “Snow falls early here; normally, we’d be home by now. Only a few camps remain on the line.”
“This battle won’t end soon,” Fei Sheng said, mouth burning from spice. “Without you holding the line, the southern states would suffer.”
“No choice,” the guerrilla said, flushed. “We are Li Bei cavalry.”
Fei Sheng reminisced. “Everyone says Li Bei cavalry are the northern fortress, iron-willed men. I admired them back in Qudu. Old Han got jealous of their favor, spreading nonsense—I defied him many times. Now being here, they truly are worth knowing! Later, if anyone goes to Cizhou, prepare nothing. Report my name, Fei Sheng, at the office—I’ll arrange everything.”
The guerrilla laughed, clapping Fei Sheng. “True loyalty!”
They chatted and ate more meat. The fire remained burning against wolves. Li Bei cavalry patrolled, returning with urgent words to the guerrilla: “Armor on!”
Fei Sheng rose immediately; the Embroidered Guard snapped to attention.
Shen Zechuan, awake in the carriage by candlelight, heard footsteps. Without looking up, he asked, “Anyone nearby?”
Fei Sheng, knife in hand by the door, replied swiftly, “The Li Bei night patrol spotted carriage tracks to the south. Master, near the frontier camp—back in June, that siege engine also came around from the south.”
Though talkative, Fei Sheng was observant and possessed an excellent memory. Unlike Ding Tao’s photographic memory, he retained every detail of events, never missing a clue.
“Have the cavalry lead the way,” Shen Zechuan said, donning his cloak as he dismounted. “Send men ahead quietly—no startling them.”
Fei Sheng acknowledged.
Shen Zechuan gazed at the sky and southward. “South borders Dunzhou. If the escort is real, most likely it came around from Dunzhou.”
Fei Sheng pinched the mud at his feet. “Snow fell a few days ago; this road is in disrepair, heavy with baggage. They must have assigned many to guard it, ensuring safe passage.”
“Send men first,” Shen Zechuan considered. “We’ll follow with the carriage, and check Dunzhou ourselves.”
Dunzhou held the former estate of the Shen Guard. Fei Sheng dared not speculate further. He signaled his men, extinguished the fire, erased their tracks, and immediately pursued under cover of darkness.