The soles of war boots crunched over the snow as they circled to Shen Zechuan’s side. The newcomer nudged Shen Zechuan’s face with his toe, smearing a bit of blood on the boot. From beneath his helmet, his voice was deep and muffled: “Shen Wei is your father?”
Shen Zechuan, blood foaming at his lips, could not contain it in his mouth. He tried hurriedly to cover it with his hands but failed, offering no answer.
The man looked down on him for a long moment before speaking again: “Answer me.”
Shen Zechuan, still tasting blood, lowered his head and managed a faint, “Mm.”
Ji Lei, seizing the opportunity, interjected from the side: “He is the eighth son of Shen Wei, named Shen…”
The man lifted his arm and removed his helmet, revealing a young face. A Northern sea eagle circled above, carrying the biting wind, and alighted on his shoulder, shaking off scattered snowflakes. He regarded Shen Zechuan with utter contempt; the gaze was neither simple disdain nor outright disgust, but as cold and sharp as a blade.
Shen Zechuan did not recognize him, but he knew the Northern cavalry.
When Shen Wei retreated westward in disorder, reaching Chizhou, it was the last line of defense for the Zhongbo. The Northern cavalry had descended from the north; Prince Xiao Jiming had led a relentless march through snow for three days, crossed frozen rivers, and driven straight for Chizhou. Shen Wei had failed to hold even Chizhou, leaving the Northern cavalry encircled. Without Xiao Jiming’s reinforcements, it would have been a massacre.
From that battle, the Northern forces held a deep grudge against the Zhongbo Shen family.
This man was not Xiao Jiming, but commanding the cavalry and bearing the sea eagle suggested he was the Northern king’s younger son, Xiao Chiye, Jiming’s younger brother.
Ji Lei had intended to manipulate the situation, but seeing Xiao Chiye’s deputy, Chaohui, behind him, he did not dare provoke further.
Xiao Chiye casually tossed his helmet to Chaohui. A smile touched his lips, and the icy, blade-like gaze melted away into a breezy, carefree demeanor; even the armor seemed ill-suited to his relaxed posture.
“Lord Ji,” he greeted, draping an arm around Ji Lei’s shoulder, “sorry to keep you waiting.”
Ji Lei laughed heartily with him: “Second Young Master, two years gone, and yet so familiar!”
Xiao Chiye gestured to the sword at his waist: “Carrying this counts as half a soldier.”
Ji Lei noticed for the first time, laughed, and said, “A fine blade! Hard work on the way to rescue the Emperor. Tonight we shall drink in celebration!”
Xiao Chiye’s smile faded; he motioned to Chaohui, signaling that the elder had sent someone to watch him. “My elder brother keeps an eye on me, so how could I fully enjoy a drink? I’ll invite you once I regain my strength.”
Chaohui saluted Ji Lei without expression.
Ji Lei nodded, then said to Xiao Chiye: “Then let us enter the palace first; the honor guard awaits.”
The two walked leisurely into the palace, talking as if at ease. Chaohui trailed behind, glancing once at Shen Zechuan. The Imperial Guards understood the cue and dragged Shen Zechuan back.
Ji Lei watched Xiao Chiye enter the palace. Once surrounded by only his own men, he spat once, his cheerful expression vanishing into a simmering grumble. He had expected this reckless youth to make mistakes, yet somehow, the boy had managed to avoid killing Shen Zechuan, casually kicking him aside instead.
Xiao Chiye entered the palace. Chaohui handed him a cloth, which he used to wipe his hands as they walked.
Chaohui murmured: “Master, that kick earlier was too risky. If that Shen bastard had died on the spot, the Empress Dowager would not have been pleased.”
Xiao Chiye’s smile disappeared, replaced by a dark intensity. Fresh from the battlefield, the aura of his killing intent was undeniable, causing even the eunuchs ahead to tread cautiously.
“We needed to kick him toward death,” he said coldly. “That old dog Shen spilled Zhongbo blood in the Chashi pit; the soldiers buried for half a month still weren’t finished. Now the Hua family protects this leftover wretch for private reasons—such convenience in the world does not exist. Besides, my elder brother’s long march has already reached its limits. Northern Li has ascended to glory; I have long become a thorn in the Empress Dowager’s side.”
Chaohui warned: “The Prince often says, ‘What waxes will wane.’ The Zhongbo city rewards are likely a trap. Master, the army is camped a hundred li from the city; the eyes of noble families watch. Do not act rashly.”
Xiao Chiye tossed the cloth back: “Understood.”
“Has Aye arrived?”
The Xian De Emperor fed his parrot.
The parrot, clever and vocal, squawked: “Aye has arrived! Aye has arrived! Aye greets the Emperor! Long live the Emperor!”
Xiao Jiming held bait in his hands. “It is about time.”
“Two years, right?” the Emperor mused, coughing mid-sentence. “Two years without seeing him. That boy followed your father. He’s grown so fast, probably taller than you now.”
Xiao Jiming replied: “He has grown, but still childish, causing trouble at home.”
The Emperor coughed again, while Pan Rugui served tea. Before he could continue, news came that Xiao Chiye had arrived.
“Come in,” the Emperor said, resting his arm. “Let me see him.”
The eunuch lifted the curtain. Xiao Chiye entered, wearing armor, and knelt, paying respects.
The Emperor smiled: “Good boy, armored and imposing. I hear during the raids on the Beisha supply lines two years ago, you performed valiantly and captured a few. Is it true?”
Xiao Chiye laughed: “Your Majesty honors me. They were mere common soldiers.”
Two years ago, during the Beisha raids, Xiao Chiye had suffered a humiliating first battle, beaten and left scattered, only saved by Xiao Jiming. The incident became a laughingstock, cementing Xiao Chiye’s reputation as a bungler.
Seeing him now, the Emperor’s demeanor softened: “Though young, you ride and fight well. Your elder brother is one of the Four Great Generals of Great Zhou; I’m sure he instructs you in warfare. Xiao Jiming, I see Aye is diligent—do not be harsh.”
Xiao Jiming acknowledged.
The Emperor continued: “For rescuing the Emperor, you merit reward. Besides yesterday’s grand honor, today you will receive another small reward.”
Xiao Jiming bowed: “Your Majesty’s favor is his fortune. Yet he has not yet accomplished a thing; how can he merit such reward?”
The Emperor paused, then said: “You rode a thousand li, crossed ice rivers at night, and achieved great deeds. Not only you, but your wife, Lu Yizhi, will also be rewarded. Aye, Northern Li is a frontier; staying long may be dull. I want you to come to this capital as Commander of the Ceremonial Falcons. Will you accept?”
Xiao Chiye, previously bowed motionless, lifted his head. “If the Emperor grants it, I accept. My family are warriors; there is little music at home. Here, I will find pleasure and forget all else.”
The Emperor laughed heartily: “You want to guard, yet you seek only amusement! If your father heard this, he’d certainly strike you.”
The hall’s atmosphere relaxed. The Emperor had Xiao Chiye and his elder brother dine together. As they were to leave, he asked: “I hear Qi Dong also sent someone. Who is it?”
Xiao Jiming replied: “Lu Guangbai from the border prefecture.”
The Emperor, weary, waved: “Let him come tomorrow.”
Xiao Chiye followed Xiao Jiming out. They soon saw a man kneeling under the corridor. Pan Rugui stepped forward, smiling: “General Lu! General Lu!”
Lu Guangbai, tired, opened his eyes: “Master Pan.”
Pan Rugui said: “Do not kneel. The Emperor is tired; he can see you tomorrow.”
Lu Guangbai nodded silently and rose, following the Xiao brothers out. Once mounted, Xiao Jiming asked: “Why keep kneeling?”
Lu Guangbai said: “The Emperor does not wish to see me.”
A brief silence followed, both understanding the reason. Lu Guangbai did not resent it. He glanced at Xiao Chiye: “The Emperor favors you?”
Xiao Chiye held the reins. “He keeps watch over me.”
Lu Guangbai patted his shoulder: “It is not over you, but over your father and elder brother.”
Listening to the horses, Xiao Chiye murmured: “…Fate, huh.”